Читать книгу Startled from Their Graves... - Jan BSL Langley - Страница 3

The house was quite large, but cozy enough, at least on the main floor which held a large stone fireplace that divided the dining room and living room. The library stood off to the side of the dining room and it also had a fireplace and a wonderful view of the back yard; it would be a great place for a cozy fire and a good book. The kitchen was small but filled with storage cupboards and all of the cooking necessities one could want. Mary especially liked the two ovens built into the brick faced wall beside the stove. The kitchen looked as if it had been redone about ten years before. A central staircase led up to four bedrooms, two on each side of the stairway with a small hallway separating them.

Mike was in the process of finishing off part of the basement to make it into an office. It was one of several remodeling projects they were planning. An old piano remained down there, left behind after the estate sale of the previous owner. Mary often played it while waiting for the dryer to finish its job in the adjacent laundry room.

A few weeks before Christmas, Mary went down to the basement to finish some laundry. After folding the clothes she set the basket at the bottom of the steps and went to the piano to practice for the holiday recital at her church. Just as she sat down she heard a soft crying in the wall right next to her. Thoroughly startled she paused as the notes of “Noel” disappeared into the room. Her fingers turned ice-cold and, improbably, she could see her breath. The weeping started again, very softly… quite close to her as if someone were sitting on the piano bench next to her. That and her frozen fingers jarred her enough to make her run to the stairway grabbing the basket of laundry as she threw herself up the steps. Mike, who was making himself sandwich in the kitchen, heard the sobbing that seemed to bounce off the walls and echo all around him. He ran to the basement door just in time to catch Mary as she ran into his arms: the laundry basket took flight across the room to land sliding next to the kitchen table where its contents started to unfold and unseen hands pitched them from the basket throughout the room.

This wasn’t the first time that strange things had taken place in the house at the end of a country lane outside of college town in the Upper Peninsula As a matter of fact, there had been several instances of paranormal activity in the house since Mike and Mary had purchased the property from the Mattsom estate. For the first few months the activity was limited to slamming doors, flickering lights and finding an occasional few pots and pans scattered about on the kitchen floor. The activity had only recently increased as Christmas approached. Today’s episode was terribly unnerving for Mary. She knew now that their home was haunted. She repeatedly told Mike of the shadowy figure she caught out of the corner of her eye as she sat in the rocking chair in the living room reading her favorite mystery writer, Agatha Christie.

Mike listened but brushed it all off as nerves but secretly he too became increasingly aware of unusual occurrences while in the house…especially lately as his tools begin to disappear and reappear from one place to another. While they were both a bit unnerved by this latest aberration, they decided to wait until after the Christmas holidays to do anything about it. Their sleep was undisturbed during this time period. Doors stayed shut, lights stayed on, the pots and pans remained in the cupboards. Everything was quiet as if the house were resting

The week before Christmas they drove to the tree farm about six miles down the road to pick out a Christmas tree. It had started to snow when they pulled their pick-up into the parking lot. Holiday music filled the air. Christmas lights were strung throughout the large lot dividing it into sections of small, medium, and large trees. Harry Brown, the owner greeted them with hand outstretched, “Merry Christmas you two, he said, “Welcome to the town. Folks around here were glad to hear someone had moved into the old Mattsom place. Everything going fine there?” He asked.

“It’s a great house”, answered Mike. “We love it Mary added.”

“Yep,” replied Harry, “Cara Lee was the last of the Mattsoms. They owned the property for generations. Fine family. Bit strange in their thinking on some things, but a real fine family. So how big a tree you folks want? I got ‘um all sizes.” “Not too tall,” said Mary looking around as she walked over to some nicely shaped evergreens. Like this one. This is the right size,” she added as she brushed snow from its branches. “What do you think, Mike?” Harry walked over and grabbed the tree, picked it up and put it down Hard. “Here,” he said, “Walk ‘round it. Got a nice shape doesn’t it?” “Perfect,” announced Mary. While Harry tied the tree to the back end of the pick up, Mary prodded, “What did you mean when you said the Mattsom’s had some strange ideas?” “Didn’t mean nothing, just sometimes they were different from us in their thinking,” replied Harry. “Use to tell stories about the house and the stuff going on there…you know. Ghosts. Nothing to it, of course, but they never moved out so guess it was all their imaginations now, wasn’t it?” Harry answered as he turned to another family that had just pulled in.

“Well, now you folks have a nice Christmas and enjoy that tree. Be sure to water it good every day now, you hear? He said as he tipped his hat to them and walked over to a family with two small kids. “Hi there,” he called as he walked into the group and Mike pulled out of the lot.

“Now what do you suppose that was all about?” asked Mary as they drove the short distance home.

“Beats me. Seems like the Mattsoms according to Harry, were a little off the norm but then again, maybe they were right. I mean…well, lets face it Mary, there is something about that house we’re in.”

Mary shivered, “I know…but darn it Mike, I really like the old place. And it’s perfect for us .It really is. By time we’re done with it, it will be a showplace,” answered Mary as they pulled up to the garage.

Mike took the Christmas tree into the garage to cut off the bottom while Mary went to locate the ornaments. After moving into the old house, she recalled she had seen old boxes of ornaments in the basement storage room or was it the attic, and she remembered being excited about maybe finding some real antique Christmas decorations. She first went down into the basement, forgetting her fear of her last trip. As she switched on the lights she thought she saw a movement near the piano. Suddenly she was chilled to the bone and she turned and ran back up the stairs, through the kitchen and into the garage and safety where Mike was just putting the tree into the stand. “What’s up Mary? Anything wrong?”

“Mike, I’ll wait for you to come down to the basement with me and look for our decorations. You did put them down there, didn’t you?”

“Nope, they’re here in the garage. Up there,” he pointed. “See those three large boxes next to the window? I’ll get them for you in a minute; now show me where you want this beast in the house.”

She laughed, “My goodness, I think it grew while it was in the back of the truck. Let’s try the living room first; just follow me.” The tree went directly in front of the large bay window in the living room. It seemed to be the perfect spot. Mike carried in the boxes of decorations while Mary brought in hot chocolate and sandwiches.. “I remember seeing some old boxes of Christmas ornaments in the basement, Mike, but honestly, after my last trip down there, I would rather you come with me. Do you mind?” she giggled as she glanced over at him, then said, “Maybe you should start doing the wash for me too.” He gave her “the look.”

A short time later, when their snack had disappeared, they cautiously followed the steps into the basement. Mary found the boxes she remembered behind the furnace on some shelves covered with dust. They pulled them out and carried them upstairs without incident.

By the time darkness arrived, the tree was lighted and covered with old and ornaments from their previous home. The older ornaments that had come from the basement seemed to glow with an inner light but Mary knew that was just her imagination and laughed at her ability to turn something beautiful into something spooky. Mike gathered Mary into his arms as they stood looking at the tree. Dinner took just a little time to prepare; meanwhile snow had started falling and it was covering the surrounding landscape with a thick blanket, not at all unusual for this part of the Upper Peninsula. The fireplace threw shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling as they returned to the living room to catch the news and weather on TV 6. It was Mary who first noticed something was missing from the tree.

“Mike,” she asked, “Why does the tree look different?”

“Different? How?” he answered. “I don’t know, it just looks different.” They both stared at the tree. The wind started to blow and they could hear it crying through the tall pines that lined the drive. Suddenly Mary shivered as she moved closer to Mike. “Mike,” she whispered, “they are all gone…” Her voice drifted off into silence. And they were all gone. All of the old ornaments found behind the furnace were gone. But where did they go and how did they go?

They both heard or thought they heard a soft giggle, a whisper of laughter that seemed to dance around the tree. “Mike, I am scared,” whimpered Mary, clinging to his arm as they climbed the stairs to bed. Mary locked the bedroom door.

Silly, she thought, as if that would keep out a ghost.

The following morning, after coffee and a discussion on what to do next, they decided to begin searching the house for the missing ornaments. They made their way downstairs to the basement and started behind the furnace. As Mary looked through the old cupboards, she felt an icy cold wrap around her like a shroud, the lights flickered off-on—off again. “Mike,” she said in a voice above a whisper. “Mike!” she cried out a bit louder. She slowly forced herself to turn around and face the stairway. “Mike,” she insisted in a pitiful call for help.

“I can see her,” Mike answered in a stunned voice.

A white-haired lady wearing a silvery dress stood at the bottom of the steps. In her hand she held one of the missing ornaments. She smiled and turned to walk upstairs, vanishing as she went.

“Oh my god, Mike, who was that?”

“I believe that was the former Cara Lee Mattsom,” answered Mike. “Come upstairs, I found something in the garage the other day that I forgot to tell you about.”

Mary trailed Mike up the stairs into the kitchen. “Sit here, honey, while I go get it.” Once again Mary grew cold. Icy fingers of frost spread across her back, up her arms and neck. She quickly got up and watched in amazement as the same lady appeared in front of her…but this time she was pointing to the library, She seems so sad thought Mary as she slowly walked into the library. There on a chair, neatly stacked, sat the boxes with the old Christmas ornaments. She took one out of its wrapping when Mike reappeared exclaiming, “You found them!”

“Not me, Mike. The spirit pointed me to them.”

“What have you got?”

Mike kept looking at the boxes of ornaments in wonder as he replied, “It’s an old album.”

They sat on the floor next to the fireplace and opened the large leather bound book with Christmas engraved on the front. It was filled with photos of children playing in the snow, horses pulling sleds and Christmas trees. Scrolled beneath each Christmas tree was the date. The earliest was 1871. The tin types and photos were not taken in the living room, but rather… was it the library?

“How strange, Mike. Notice where they have placed the tree through the years?” She answered for him, “Everyone pictured has the tree here in the library.” A small push of air seemed to slip across the room making the flames in the fireplace dance a two step. “You know Mary, you’re right. I wonder though, why here?” He got up and walked around the room. Looking at the book lined walls. The large stain- glass window in the room held a window seat and overlooked the back yard. “It looks like the trees were always placed in front of this window.” Said Mary.

“Yeah, and away from the fireplace,” he answered as he continued his probing. Mary placed another log on the fire.

She walked over to the window shivering as she looked out at the frozen landscape. Mike’s voice startled her as he cried out, “Mary! Look at this!” “God, Mike, scare me to death why don’t you…what have you found?”

“The answer to the mystery of this room and the Christmas tree,” he slowly replied as he pushed books aside on both ends of the bookcases opposite the fireplace. “A secret room?” asked Mary.

“No, no secret room. Look here, Mary. This room used to be the main living area. You can tell by the original molding behind the books. This is the original house. Our living room is… for Pete’s sake, an addition!”

“So Mike, our Christmas tree belongs in here. It’s a family tradition. As she spoke the pages of the Christmas album that lay open in front of them slowly began to turn. Mike sat next to Mary as they watched in amazement.

“What the…!” exclaimed Mke.

“Shussssssh,” cautioned Mary.

Suddenly the boxes of ornaments that sat forgotten on the chair fell to the floor and scattered through the room. At the same time the pages stopped. The book lay open to a picture of a white-haird lady watching a small girl placing an ornament on the tree. Beneath the picture was written, Cara Lee and Great Grandmother Caroline Mattsom, 1939. As they looked closely they could see the ornaments on the tree in the picture were the very ornaments that lay spread beneath their feet.

“Well I guess we know what we have to do to make things right around here,” said Mary, as she got up and went into the living room with Mike close behind.

“We’ll have to keep up the tradition,” replied Mike with a smile on his face.

It took the rest of the evening before they finally sat down in the library with a glass of wine, admiring the newly placed Christmas tree in front of the library window.

“I guess that wasn’t Cara Lee we saw,” said Mike.

“No, not Cara Lee but Caroline. She was concerned the traditions would be forgotten.”

Caroline Mattsom never again reappeared in the old house. But often, as Christmas nears, an ornament mysteriously appears in the oddest of places: in a silverware drawer, on the porch swing, in a shoe and once in the dog’s bed. But, never in the living room. The appearance of the ornaments signal it is time to purchase a Christmas tree for the holidays.

Peshikee Grade Camp