The Stories That Haunt Us (12 page)

Later on that year, a huge fire broke out in the MacNeil home and spread quickly throughout the house. David MacNeil tried desperately to reach little Grace's bedroom, but the flames drove him back and the debris created a barricade through which he could not pass. The fire trucks arrived, but too late to save the home. The flames and smoke were overwhelming, even for the firemen, and it looked as if there was no hope for poor little Grace.

Claire and David were watching the flames engulf their house in despair, when, from the rear of the house, a fireman emerged carrying something. With a grin on his face he said to Claire and David, “Look what I found sitting under the apple tree in the backyard, out of harm's reach.” In his arms was Grace.

“It's a miracle!” Claire exclaimed, crying and hugging her daughter.

“I don't know how it happened” said the fireman. “She was just sitting there safe and sound. Oh, and your dog is safe too. Nice big, black dog was sitting right next to her.”

Watch Your !?+©–!% Tongue

L
aurent J. D'Entremont of Lower West Pubnico, Nova Scotia, brought this little fish tale to my attention. Laurent remembers the subject of the story, an old man in question who drove around Pubnico in the early 1950s in a 1927 Model T Ford. Laurent was a mere kid at the time but he remembers Willie LeBlanc clearly.

The story goes like this: Early one morning Willie took his boat out to check his mackerel nets. They were empty most of the time, and that upset him to no end. He was a hot-tempered individual, and on his way back from the fishing grounds, he was swearing a blue streak because he had only caught three mackerel that day. As he sailed past the Baptist church, he let out a volley of curses, blaming the church for his bad luck. He then picked up the three mackerel and hurled them one by one at the church.

When he turned around, much to his horror, there was a stranger seated in the bow of the boat watching him! Willie was so scared that he would never even describe what the stranger looked like. Word has it he never swore again.

Chapter five

Unfinished Business

The Suit

H
ere's one that'll knock your socks off.
     Back in the thirties there was a Fredericton family of humble means that from time to time received hand-me-downs from fancy relatives in the United States. One day a large box of clothes arrived, including a brand new blue pinstripe suit. A letter from their cousin Minnie pinned to the suit lapel explained that her brother, their recently deceased cousin Charles, had owned the suit. Charles had wanted to be buried in the suit, but the family was a frugal lot and decided it would be an awful waste of a brand-new suit. So they sent the suit to cousin Angus, as they knew it would fit him beautifully. They were sure Charles wouldn't have minded a bit.

Angus was thrilled at his expensive new suit and hurried up to his bedroom to try it on. Funny thing, though, it was as if the suit had a mind of its own. Angus had to struggle to get it on. Every time he'd lift his foot to pull a pant leg on, he'd fall over, like someone was pushing him off-balance. Finally, he got the suit on. When Angus came downstairs, everyone told him how grand he looked.

At church that Sunday the neighbours noticed the new suit and told Angus how spiffy he looked. Angus felt good. Halfway through the service, though, he felt something pulling on his suit collar. He turned around thinking someone might be teasing him, but the people in the pew behind him were watching the priest piously. Then something was pulling at Angus's waist. When he looked down he saw his three-button suit jacket being undone, as if with invisible hands. And something was pulling his suit jacket off his shoulders! Angus fled from the church, and by the time he got home all he was wearing was his Stanfields.

It seemed Cousin Charles did mind, after all.

Annie's Brooch

T
his sad ghost tale takes place in Liverpool, Nova Scotia. The account my storyteller gave differs slightly from the tale as it's told by “Ted” R. Hennigar in his book
Scotian Spooks, Mystery and
Violence
.

Willie and Annie grew up together knowing that one day they would get married. But first, Willie needed to save up some money for a house for them to live in. Though he hated the thought of leaving his Annie, and he worried that some handsome young man may come along and court and marry her, Willie was determined: he decided to head to Boston to make his way.

The streets of Boston were not paved with gold and Willie found it hard to save for the home he planned to build back home for Annie. Meanwhile, Annie saved what she could from her job at a local Liverpool store for their life together. The young lovers wrote to each other regularly, dreaming of their reunion. When he was not working, Willie would walk the streets of Boston looking in all the shop windows. One day, he happened upon a beautiful gold brooch in the shape of a rose with a diamond in the centre. He wanted it for Annie more than anything in the world, but he knew he shouldn't spend any of the money he was saving for their home. Ever determined, Willie managed to save enough money working a part-time evening job to buy the brooch. He sent it home to Annie with all his love. When Annie received the gift she wrote and told Willie she would treasure it always.

Willie worked in Boston for three more years until finally he had saved enough money to return to Liverpool, marry Annie, and build their dream home on the outskirts of town.

Willie and Annie loved children, but sadly they were unable to have any of their own. Willie's six year-old niece, Martha, spent a lot of time at their place, becoming almost like a daughter to them.

One day, Annie discovered her brooch was missing. Annie thought Martha may have been playing with it, but when she and Willie questioned their niece, the girl denied playing with it.

The missing brooch caused an argument between Annie and Willie. He thought Annie had been irresponsible by leaving it someplace for Martha to find. Angry words passed between the two—the only serious argument they ever had. They never found the brooch, and it remained a quiet bone of contention, always there in the background during even their happiest times together.

Two years later, Martha died from a childhood illness. Willie and Annie missed her very much and often thought of her.

The years passed and Annie and Willie remained devoted to each other. Willie watched his love finally slip away and die of consumption. To honour her memory, he always kept a light on in the house and always set the table for the two of them. He visited her grave regularly and always kept a fresh supply of flowers in a wooden vase he made and placed on her grave. He was as devoted to her in death as he had been in life.

On the way home from the cemetery one day, Willie had an uneasy feeling. When he got home, he thought perhaps he was coming down with the flu and retired early. He lay in bed listening to the rain on the roof until he fell into a listless sleep. Some time during the night, Willie was awakened by a sound in the far corner of the room. He lit the lamp: there, looking back at him were Annie and little Martha, holding hands. The child looked upset, as though she had been scolded, and Annie looked white and pitiful. Her brown hair was wet and drops of water poured down her face. She stepped toward the bed and said, “Willie, we have found the brooch. Martha remembered where she left it. Come.”

The ghosts of Annie and Martha started out into the hall toward the attic door. Grabbing the lamp, Willie followed. Annie opened the door and Martha went up first, then Annie and Willie after her. Martha walked toward a small hole in the floor. Willie remembered the hole from when he built the house—there wasn't enough lumber at the time so he left it as it was, an opening barely large enough for a child to climb through.

When Martha came to the opening, she got down on her knees and poked her head inside. She reappeared and passed Willie a small bundle of mesh cloth.

Willie set the lamp on the attic floor and unrolled the cloth—Annie's wedding veil—to reveal the beautiful brooch that Martha had hidden so many years before. He stared with disbelief at the long-lost brooch. With tears in his eyes, Willie turned to his wife and niece, but they had disappeared. He returned to his room and placed the veil and brooch under his pillow.

Sleep came hard to Willie that night. A couple of days later, during another summer rainstorm, the ghost of Annie appeared to Willie. Annie stepped closer to Willie's bed, and again, he noticed her face and hair were soaked. Annie looked down at Willie and spoke: “We have the brooch back, Willie. Let's not quarrel any more. Please, come help me.”

Willie reached for her, but she backed toward the door and beckoned him to follow. “Come help me, Willie. I am so cold and wet.”

Willie dressed quickly and followed the ghost of his wife out into the rain, toward the cemetery. When they reached her grave, Willie looked down on the simple headstone and the flower vase he'd lovingly made for his dear Annie. When he looked up, her ghost was gone. Willie called her name repeatedly, but there was no response. She had left him alone again.

Summer was drawing to a close, and the weather turned cold and rainy. Once again Annie appeared to Willie, soaked to the skin. Her beautiful brown hair was hanging limp over her shoulders. She begged Willie to help her and back to the cemetery they went. As before, when Annie got to her grave, she vanished.

Willie woke early the next morning and headed for the cemetery. He brought a few pink chrysanthemums with him, deciding it was about time he replaced the peonies which had been there since early summer. As he picked up the vase, he noticed the bottom had rotted out, leaving a large hole under the vase which had been there since early summer. He picked up a stick and poked. It was then that he realized what had been bothering Annie. Each time she appeared, she was drenched, and she always came during a rainstorm. She had been trying to tell Willie that water was pouring down on her face through the hole in the grave. Even though he realized fixing the hole would mean never seeing Annie again, he did what he had done for her in life—made her happy. He fixed the hole…and never looked on his beloved again.

Row, Row, Row Your Ghost

I
n the last century, boating was a popular pastime, and boats were available to rent by the hour, the day, or the week on Nova Scotia's Eastern Shore. One afternoon, a Mr. Hampton showed up at the boathouse wanting to rent a rowboat to take to an island he was interested in buying. The rental shop owner told Mr. Hampton he had only one boat left, and that, well, it was haunted. Mr. Hampton smiled and said that whoever was haunting the boat could join him for the ride.

Halfway across the lake, the man began to have some difficulty keeping the boat on course. It seemed to have a mind of its own and kept veering off toward the middle of the lake. Suddenly the boat dipped to one side and there was a loud splash, as if someone had jumped over the side. Mr. Hampton could hear gasping and thrashing in the water, but no one was there. After a few minutes, the splashing sounds stopped. When he got to the island and pulled the boat up on the beach, Mr. Hampton noticed a puddle of water on one of the seats and the floor of the boat, but couldn't think of how the water got there.

His return trip was without incident, and when he got back to the wharf he told the owner what had happened. The owner said, “I told you the boat was haunted. A man rented it last summer to go fishing. Somehow he lost his balance, fell overboard and drowned. Or maybe he jumped over. No one will ever know.”

Broken Promises

T
his story takes place in Deer Island, New Brunswick. My contacts on Deer Island for this story are life-long residents Dale and Glenna Barteau.

In the mid-1850s, a resident of the town, John Hooper, was fed up with life and decided to end it all. According to reports, he was a little touched up top. He did have one child, a daughter who got off the island and headed for the States. Since no one heard from her since she left, one assumes she bought a one-way ticket.

Now, John Hooper had tried suicide once before, but failed. This time he made sure he would not. He tied a large bolder to his ankle, held the bolder in his arms and jumped into the pond behind his home.

John's relatives knew he didn't want a marker of any kind—he had stated as much many times before. He simply wanted to be buried in an unmarked grave, but when it comes to the wishes of the dead, the living think they know better. Big mistake on their part!