Echoes of a Haunting - Revisited

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Echoes of a Haunting - Revisited Page 12

by Clara M. Miller


  At this point, Beth decided to turn on the TV to have some normal noise in the house. She walked to the living room and let out a scream that would curl your hair. I ran in and she said a girl was sitting on the foot of her bed. She described the same girl I had seen earlier in the window, a girl I had told no one about as yet.

  I went in to check. There was a depression on the bed, as though someone had just gotten up. I felt it. The spot was warm! Were ghosts warm? There was absolutely no way anyone could have gotten out of that room without being seen!

  Just then Phil called. He had gone upstairs again and found all the lights out this time. On his way down the stairs, he opened the crawl space and nearly fainted. Our chimney, which had been neatly mortared, was taken apart, brick by brick, and carefully stacked against the other wall. So, Beth had heard something. When Beth saw the chimney, or what was left of it, she began to cry.

  I left her in Jeff’s care while I went to call Father Al. He promised to come right over so we gathered in the living room to wait for him. I felt as though we were under siege. No one looked out the windows and no one moved from the room. We were terrified at what we might see. Frankly, I’m afraid no one’s color was normal. When Father arrived, Phil told him all that had happened, finding it hard to keep the incredulity out of his voice. It’s really awful when you can’t believe what’s happening even while it’s happening.

  They checked the house over together then they split up and investigated further. Father was questioning me in the kitchen when Phil called me from the yard. He had Father’s five cell flashlight and was pointing it toward the pond. He asked what I saw in the beam. I looked and was amazed to see what appeared to be a young girl wearing a long, sheer gown walking along the path on the other side of the pond, near where the dancing figure had been seen. I told him and he asked, “What color is the gown?” As I looked, it changed from white to purple and back again.

  When we called to Father, he offered to hold the light while Phil went down to the pond. As much psychic investigating as Father does, he has yet to have a truly personal psychic experience. Perhaps his subconscious wouldn’t allow him to. Phil ran across the yard, calling the apparition every name he could think of but, naturally, couldn’t find her. We returned to the house and, when everyone calmed down, I insisted they all go to bed. Phil and Father kept watch until early morning so we could sleep.

  Hereafter, Labor Day 1973 was referred to as “the day all Hell broke loose!”

  Tuesday–September 4, 1973

  Phil was sick all day today. I guess it must have hit him suddenly that all we have been saying is true.

  This morning I couldn’t find my purse. Finally, it was located behind the bathroom door on the scale. Four dollars was missing. Father had warned us that the money disappearing could be a way of splitting the family up. Each of us would blame the other for stealing. I know the purse was in its accustomed place in my room when I went to bed last night.

  We have been trying to make some sense out of yesterday’s happenings but so far–no luck. Going over the “spirits” we had seen or which had been seen by others we came up with the following: the old farmer (the “black man”), the young boy, the redhead (could the woman by the pond, “Agatha” and the woman in the window be the same one?), the strawberry blonde (Beth, Mary and I had all seen her), plus the assorted figures of no definite description which we had all seen flitting around the property.

  Who belonged to the perfume we occasionally smelled in Mary’s room? Who smoked the pipe whose aroma was noticed in the living room near Beth’s bedroom door and in the bathroom by the cellar door? And who belongs to the threatening voices Beth hears nightly outside her window? I began to take those voices more seriously. Sometimes I wish I were Sherlock Holmes!

  I read somewhere about this time that many years ago an itinerant preacher and his spinster sister used to travel in the area. He hated women and, though he claimed hospitality from his “congregants”, carried his own sheets so he wouldn’t sleep on any sheets a woman was liable to have slept on. I wonder–are the pair back?

  This afternoon, Gary D, a friend of ours from Buffalo, came to give us a copy of a book of his poetry as a gift. It had just been published and we were really pleased to get it. Gary’s family was the one that owned property down the road from our cabin near Cuba. He attended State University College at Buffalo when I worked there. It was a relief to talk to someone who knew nothing about the house so we could hold a normal conversation for a change. Before he left, Gary took the boat out on the pond. After rowing it around for a while, he carefully pulled it right up on the shore so it wouldn’t drift.

  Wednesday–September 5, 1973

  Last night Paul and Tim woke Mike to ask for a flashlight. They had seen a figure in the boat on one of their regular patrols of the property. It amazed me that they still spent almost every night up at the house. They had seen strange things almost every night. Last night, as they went toward the pond, just as they reached the runoff, their flashlight suddenly burned out. Now, it’s one thing to be brave when you have a light with you and quite another in the pitch dark of a moonless night.

  Mike sleepily gave them the two flashlights he had and, again, they ran for the pond. They reached the same spot in the stream and the flashlight again burned out. Luckily, Mike had given them two so, after they had crossed the stream, they turned on the other one. It didn’t burn out. The boat, by this time, was drifting, empty, on the other side of the pond.

  Friday–September 7, 1973

  Again this morning, I found my purse moved to the same place in the bathroom and $2 missing. At least I knew where to look for it now. Moving things was not new. I remember one morning a few weeks ago we found a gallon of milk moved from the refrigerator and sitting in the kitchen sink. Then, when Mike stepped onto the back porch there was a broken rake lying with the tines pointing up. If he hadn’t seen it he could have really hurt himself. These things always happened when no one was around.

  Mike also found something new today. He told me to come and look in his room. He said it was foggy! When I went in, it wasn’t foggy but that was as good a way as any to describe the sensation. Everything in the room was out of focus. We tried changing the lighting but it didn’t help. Mike thought it was kind of funny. I didn’t.

  Beth’s room was assailed by that awful cold again today but then a strange thing happened. Suddenly, the room filled with the smell of perfume and warmed up. It was the same scent they had smelled traces of before. It is like nothing Beth owns. I haven’t smelled it as yet. Something else to look forward to! As much as I hate to experience these things, I wonder if it’s the only way to be able to make sense of them.

  Saturday–September 8, 1973

  Last night Beth really had a strange experience. She had just turned off the light and turned over to go to sleep when she heard a drawer opening behind her. She turned to see “me” (at least a woman with reddish hair) in a long nightgown standing looking at her diary with the drawer standing open in front of her. The woman’s back was towards Beth. Since she thought it was me, all she did was ask what was wrong. The woman said, “Are you sure it was June 29th?” Beth assumed she meant a fire that had taken place that day down the road and, coincidentally(?) was also the day our problems began in earnest. We had discussed the “coincidence” so Beth just said, “That’s what my diary says.”

  At that, the woman replaced the diary, closed the drawer and walked out of the room, still with her back to Beth. Normally, I’m sure, Beth would have wondered about the long gown since I always wear pajamas. This is just like the time I mistook the woman in a long gown for Beth though I knew Beth wore baby doll pajamas. She should also have wondered how the woman could have read the diary since the room was dark with only the night light burning. I think it frightened her in the morning when she thought about it and realized it couldn’t have been me. Frankly, I don’t even know where she keeps her diary and wouldn’t presume to read it
if I did. Idly, I wondered if this were the same woman I took to be Beth last month. The long nightgown certainly fit.

  Mum and dad came today for the weekend. We sat and discussed the possible significance of “June 29th”. I’m glad their visits haven’t stopped because of this nonsense.

  Sunday–September 9, 1973

  Mum was very happy when she got up this morning. Beth’s room, where mum slept, had started to get “cold” again. So cold, in fact, that it woke her up. As she lay there freezing, suddenly the room was filled with perfume and the cold receded. The only thing she could say about the scent was that it was light and floral, like a young girl’s. She seemed to think it meant that one of the spirits was on our side and was trying to help us. We sure could use some “inside” help.

  Thursday–September 13, 1973

  Today was grocery shopping day. We have to drive twelve miles to the store so I try to shop just once a week. Beth and Mary went along to help me. All of a sudden, the car filled with the strong odor of perfume. I figured one of the girls had spilled some and paid no attention until it became unpleasant. Neither of the girls knew where the smell was coming from. They checked their purses and mine but found no perfume. Just as suddenly as it came, it disappeared.

  We talked about it and suddenly it began again. The smell got so strong we had to open all the windows. If the perfume were the same as that in Beth’s room, and Beth seemed to think it was, the scent was gardenia and something else. Funny, though, every time I mentioned gardenia to anyone something in my mind said “and verbena”. Until I looked it up in the dictionary, I didn’t know verbena was a flower used in making perfume and was especially popular long ago.

  Monday–September 17, 1973

  I saw a notice in the paper today that a noted psychic, Alex T, was giving a lecture on psychic phenomena on Wednesday at St. Bonaventure University. Of course, we all wanted to go and planned on it if it didn’t cost too much. The last lecture we attended there only cost $.50 so I hoped this one would be the same. I made plans to contact Father Al about it.

  Wednesday–September 19, 1973

  Father Al called today to tell me he had good news. Not only was tonight’s lecture free but Alex T had promised to come to the house afterwards. Father was very excited and explained that Alex had been called in on cases by the police in New England and that he had a tremendous psychic gift. We left for the lecture with a high degree of expectancy.

  Our expectations were fulfilled. Alex took the audience, step by step through his evolution as a psychic. To demonstrate his ability, he mentally manipulated cards and dowsing rods. He also showed slides, one of which showed a ghostly hand materializing in mid-air. A series of pictures showed Alex solidifying light! It was quite incredible. They put a high powered bulb close to his eyes. He extended his hands in front of him, cupped, and soon a ball of light appeared in them. He also warned everyone that, if he shook hands with them and they were going to die soon, he would know. His accuracy at this type of prediction was 100%. Paul, who had come with us, was suddenly apprehensive about meeting him.

  After the lecture, Alex was mobbed by the audience, mostly made up of students from the University. We went home and waited. It was a while before Father Al and Alex finally arrived. I was shocked when I saw how pale and tired Alex looked. He didn’t waste time talking and wanted to know nothing whatsoever about the house before he checked it.

  He and Father toured the house and then Alex came into the living room where we were all gathered. He sat down on a hassock and looked directly at me. Alex has the eyes of a mystic, deeply set and introspective as though they’re focused on something not visible to most. In a quiet voice (I have never heard him raise his voice), he asked, “Did you know you had a mass murder here?” I guess I managed to gasp a barely audible “no”.

  He then explained his impressions: he saw seven spirits, some much more clearly than others–one man was stabbed (the letter opener in Mary’s picture?); a woman was hanged (the bulging eyes on the woman at the pond, the figure hanging from the tree?); another woman was drowned (was the hair on the apparition at the window dirty or wet?); a man beaten to death and (here his voice broke) a young girl of eighteen with strawberry blonde hair was attacked, beaten and tortured to death! Like a jigsaw puzzle all the pieces seemed to fall together. It all fit so well! Too well?

  He went on to explain that it had happened over a period of time about 100 years ago. The former owner of the house and, indeed, the original builder knew nothing about the murders. He thought someone from outside used the house. He felt there was a stagecoach or carriage route nearby and passengers had stopped at the house only to be robbed and killed. There were graves nearby which we may have unwittingly disturbed. Until they were buried, the bodies were kept in the crawl space. He said when Father opened the crawl space to show him the chimney he saw bodies piled like “stacks of fire wood”. We had heard him gasp on his tour of the house and had wondered why, now we knew!

  He also saw an elderly woman of about ninety who had died recently. He described her and said she was not involved in any way with the murders but she knew what had happened and wanted to tell someone. The description fit the former resident who had, indeed, died during the summer. Her family had brought her up shortly after the story of the house had been in the paper. At that time, she had refused to speculate on the causes of our trouble. As a matter of fact, she refused to speak at all.

  Just then Tim, who had come in unexpectedly from his job in an Olean sub shop, said quietly, “Hey, Paul, what about the picture we took?” Alex jumped as though he had been shot. He spun on them and asked, “What picture? You mean you got a picture?” Tim, pinned by those searching eyes, was startled. He told Alex how he and Paul happened to take a very unique picture. They had concealed the story until now because they were afraid of upsetting me!

  A couple of weeks before, they had been on their customary patrol of the grounds in the middle of the night when they saw a man near the pond. They had been taking pictures around the outside of the house hoping to catch an apparition off guard but not really expecting any results. Paul had a Polaroid camera and Tim a flashlight when they started chasing the man they thought to be a trespasser.

  They ran across the fields and had almost caught him when they reached the tree line. Had he continued into the woods, he could have lost them easily. Instead, he turned and threw himself against a tree with his hands raised above his head. Paul, thinking of identifying a prowler, raised his camera and took a picture. Tim, who was about six feet behind the man, lunged at him just as he ducked around the tree and completely disappeared! They both realized at the same time how close they had come to the unknown and they ran all the way back to the house. Later, walking those same fields, pockmarked with woodchuck holes, I marveled that they could have run at all, especially in the dark. However, as Tim pointed out, his feet didn’t have time to touch the ground!

  Alex was ecstatic and wanted to see the photo right away. Unfortunately, Tim had left it at home but promised to bring it to the house the next day. Father said he’d send it to Alex and have its authenticity verified. Alex, now thoroughly drained, was visibly sagging so he and Father headed back to the University. It had been some night!

  Thursday–September 20, 1973

  A group of waitresses from a nearby restaurant called today and asked if they could come up to the house. Since the ridiculous traffic had died down, I said it was all right. Thus it was, that they were present when Tim and Paul brought the picture. So, at least we have some witnesses. I’m afraid it’s very difficult to describe that picture. The man was middle-aged, dressed in a navy blue jacket and he seemed to be hurt. His nose was pushed to one side and his jaw was twisted. There also seemed to be either a cut or blood down the side of his face. His mouth was open in a silent scream and he was plainly terrified. Funny, though, he wasn’t looking toward the boys (the camera) but behind them and to their left.

  Did he see someone
they couldn’t? He was frightened of something but it didn’t seem to be the boys. Another interesting thing: the figure had a narrow blue glow around it. It couldn’t have been a reflection since the only thing behind him was a very non-reflective tree. The waitresses were as horrified as we were. There was something profoundly disturbing in that pathetic face. I called Father right away and he promised to stop by as soon as possible to pick it up.

  Saturday–September 22, 1973

  Mum and dad came today to spend the weekend so they, too, saw the picture. Everyone’s reaction was about the same. They were shocked and almost inevitably remarked that he seemed to be hurt. Some people thought he looked like an American Indian. I didn’t get that impression but, looking at the facial features, I could see why people thought so. I just wished it weren’t a Polaroid so we would have had a negative. At the time, unfortunately, I wasn’t aware that Bernice had a Polaroid copy machine.

  Monday–September 24, 1973

  Father came for the picture today. He had the same reaction we did and was very puzzled by the blue glow surrounding the figure. In psychic circles, I guess, a blue aura means a person is good. Alex told Father that after he checked the picture he would send it to the American Institute for Psychical Research in New York City for additional verification. We couldn’t wait to hear their findings.

 

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