Ghosts of Government House

by Judith Silverthorne

  Robin stopped short at the doorway to the billiards room.

  “Whoa!” Sam yelped, looking past Robin.

  The billiard cues lay on the floor on either side of the table. The three balls were scattered, as if someone had been playing.

  Gabe shook his head, wide-eyed, the moment he and Grandma Louise stepped into the room.

  “I didn’t touch it!” he said

  “None of us did,” said Robin. Her hands shook as she replaced the balls and cues on the table the way they‘d originally been displayed.

  Boom! Crash!

  “What now?” Robin asked warily.

  Grandma Louise nodded towards the drawing room. Sam smiled when Gabe grabbed their gran’s arm.

  Sam followed Robin to the drawing room and cautiously peered inside. An overturned chair lay near the door and a display easel was toppled at the end of the table. The drapes were a tangled mess, some closed and some partially opened.

  “How could that have happened?” Sam asked.

  No one answered.

  Robin gave the room a quick scan before she marched over to pick up the chair and easel. Grandma Louise helped her examine them for damage.

  “The chair looks fine,” Robin said.

  “The corner of this display board is crunched a bit where it hit the floor, but otherwise it’s okay too,” Grandma Louise reported.

  Sam wrestled with the heavy drapes, trying to straighten them. J.J. and Gabe came to help, but nobody was tall enough to reach the rods to set the folds evenly again.

  “One more job for the maintenance crew,” groaned Robin. “I hope I don’t get blamed for all this—they might fire me.”

  “We’ll back you up,” said Sam.

  The look on Robin’s face told Sam she wasn’t much consoled by the offer. Wearily, she led them back into the main hall.

  “Maybe we’ve had enough ghosts for one day,” suggested Grandma Louise.

  “If you’re sure you’re finished touring, I’ll make sure all the lights are off on the second floor before we go. It’s almost closing time anyway.” Robin hurried up the stairs. “You can wait for me over by the entrance, if you like, but feel free to leave too.”

  “We’ll wait,” said Grandma Louise.

  Sam wandered back into the library with its wall-sized painting of Queen Victoria and comfortable seating. The room was cozy with bookcases and stands.

  “Does that rocking horse start moving automatically when someone comes into the room?” Gabe asked.

  “As if,” J.J. giggled.

  Sam stared at the little rocking horse sitting in front of the large mahogany desk swaying back and forth. “Ben, is that you?” she asked, trying to make out a dusky shadow. All at once the shape grew denser. “Jocko’s back!” she told the others as she crept closer.

  Chattering at them, Jocko rode his custom-built rocking horse hard.

  J.J. laughed.

  Tinkly music wafted down the stairway.

  “What’s going on?” Robin yelped from halfway down the staircase.

  “Are you okay?” Sam headed for the stairs. Gabe stood rooted to the spot while Grandma Louise waited patiently beside him.

  “The music box in the nursery is playing!” Robin called.

  Sam and J.J. joined Robin and tiptoed back upstairs to the day nursery. When they reached the doorway, the music stopped.

  “They told me it didn’t work,” said Robin hoarsely, stepping over to the table with the music box. She tried winding the key, but nothing happened.

  Sam felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. J.J. mumbled something that sounded rather like a whimper.

  Everything was silent once more. Robin glanced around the nursery one last time and switched off the light.

  As they left the room, a rustling came from the tiny hallway that joined the day nursery to the night nursery. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam glimpsed the governess, her long green dress whisking across the doorway on her way back to the night nursery with Robbie in her arms.

  “I’d like to talk to her,” said Sam. “I’ll be right back.”

  She scurried into the night nursery.

  “Madeleine, are you here?” Sam asked when she didn’t immediately see the woman.

  Slowly a shape materialized and hovered by the crib.

  “It’s okay. I can see you.” This ghost seemed shy.

  The woman’s hazy outline slowly solidified as she tucked Robbie into his crib.

  As Sam waited, the figure became more and more defined, yet somehow still translucent. When nothing more of the governess emerged, Sam asked, “Can you hear me, Madeleine?”

  The image nodded but didn’t speak.

  “Don’t be frightened,” she said. “I’m Samantha. I wondered if you’d tell me about yourself, like where you’re from and how you came to be here.”

  “I was an orphan in Montreal,” said a soft voice with a French accent, “But my adopted family moved to a farm near Saltcoats in this province two years ago.”

  “How old are you?” Sam asked.

  “Eighteen.” The governess kept her eyes cast down.

  “How long have you been working here?”

  “Six months,” Madeleine answered.

  Sam continued to probe. “Do you like it here?”

  Madeleine’s face became animated. “Oui, very much! The baby is so much fun and the family so kind. The house we visit is so beautiful. I wish to stay here always.” She clasped her hands together and held them to her chest.

  “Gaawk!” Sam spluttered in surprise as something landed on her shoulders.

  “Gotcha!” J.J. laughed as she poked her head into the room.

  For a split second, Madeleine hovered, then simply vanished.

  “Darn, you scared her away,” Sam said, frustrated.

  “Sorry,” J.J. said. “But Grandma Louise and Gabe want to know what’s taking so long.”

  Sam stepped into the hallway just in time to see the curtain across the hall at the doorway of the first guest bedroom settle back into place, as if someone had just brushed past it. She looked over at Robin, who shrugged.

  “Who’s here?” called Sam bravely, though her legs wobbled.

  chapter nine

  when no answer came, Sam tiptoed across the large hall towards the room. J.J. and Robin crept behind her. As they reached the doorway, Sam came to a halt. J.J. bumped into her again.

  Sam yelped.

  “Sorry,” said J.J.

  The three stuck their heads into the room. At first glance all the furniture seemed to be in its place. None of the clothing on the sleigh bed had been touched, and the ornaments and rugs were as they should be.

  Then Sam giggled. The chamber pot was sitting in the middle of the mantel of the carved maple fireplace.

  “Not again,” said Robin, exasperated. She swished past them and placed the chamber pot on the floor just under the edge of the bed. “Everyone blames Howie for doing these things—meaning Cheun Lee—but I think it must be someone else.”

  “Cheun Lee doesn’t seem like the kind of ghost who’d be moving things around like that,” Sam mused. “Though I guess we don’t really know him that well.”

  “And I don’t think we’ve met them all yet,” J.J. said.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Robin agreed. “I haven’t seen some of the ones you’ve met either, until today. But I’ve seen and heard other strange things going on.”

  They made it back as far as the centre well when Robin raised her finger to her lips. They listened.

  Slap-slap, slap-slap, slap-slap, slap.

  Cheun Lee was on the move again.

  Sam and J.J. crept forward as the slippered steps headed towards the top of the staircase. Robin’s eyes flew wide open when the sound continued through the close
d door.

  “Quick,” whispered Sam. “Let’s follow him.” She reached for the doorknob, making sure Robin and J.J. were right behind her, then cracked the door open. The footsteps continued down the narrow back staircase and into a room on the left. Treading softly behind, Sam entered the tiny room. Robin and J.J. crowded in beside her. The only furniture was a single bed, a chair and a small bureau. There was a small shelf above the bed. A couple of hooks on the wall served as a closet.

  Cheun Lee was visible but he didn’t seem to notice them. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled an envelope out from under his pillow. A photograph fluttered out. Cheun Lee picked it up and held it to his heart. Tears glistened in his eyes. He placed the photograph on the shelf above his bed, next to a small Buddha statue and a delicate fan with Chinese characters and a colourful flowering tree.

  Sam recognized Cheun Lee in the sepia photograph. He stood with a woman and two children, all of them dressed in drab clothing, outside a small dwelling on a village street in China.

  Sam, J.J. and Robin backed out quietly and went back up the stairs to the second floor hallway.

  “I actually saw Cheun Lee,” Robin exclaimed in a low voice. “Usually that room is a small office with a desk and everything. Somehow, it—altered.”

  Sam shivered. “Just like in the photo of Sheldon,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Robin asked.

  Sam pulled the camera out of her backpack and showed Robin the picture she’d taken.

  “Wow!” Robin stared at it. “You’ve actually captured a ghost on camera.”

  “Too bad Cheun Lee left his wife and children behind,” J.J. said mournfully.

  Robin sighed. “I know a little bit about that period in history,” she said. “I’m sure he couldn’t have afforded to bring them to Canada when he first came in 1898. Back then the government imposed an expensive head tax for each Chinese person entering Canada.”

  “How awful,” said Sam.

  Robin nodded. “Even when the head tax was discontinued in 1923, Cheun Lee couldn’t bring them over because the Canadian government passed a law forbidding Chinese immigrants unless they were someone of special note or owned a business. And Cheun Lee was an employee, not a business owner.”

  “How long did this go on?” J.J. asked.

  “I think until a new immigration law came into effect in 1967.” Robin shook her head. “By then Cheun Lee had been dead for almost thirty years.”

  Sam shuddered. “How horrible not to see your family ever again.”

  “Kind of like missing someone who died,” said J.J., swiping at her eyes.

  Robin nodded solemnly. “I’m not sure which would be worse, knowing for sure you will never see a family member again or having them live thousands of miles away without hope of them ever joining you.”

  “One is just as bad as the other, I think.” Sam linked arms with J.J.

  J.J. nodded silently.

  Robin’s face brightened. “Cheun Lee did have some brothers who also came to North America, though. He rarely saw them since one moved up to Melfort and two others went to New York.” She paused. “At least he was well-respected in the community for his cooking abilities. Many dignitaries attended his funeral in 1938.”

  “No wonder he came back to Government House after he passed on. This was his home,” said Sam.

  “I wonder if my mom’s spirit will come back to our house,” said J.J. faintly. “Sometimes I almost feel like she’s with me.”

  Grandma Louise and Gabe joined them just as J.J. finished talking. “I’m sure she’s watching over you right now,” said Grandma Louise.

  “Sometimes I talk to her,” J.J. confessed. “I pretend that she hears me.”

  “I bet she really does,” said Sam. “You two were so close.”

  Suddenly Gabe tilted his head, listening. “Uh, is that water running?”

  “Oh no!” Robin dashed towards the bathroom then stopped abruptly. “The water isn’t turned on in this part of the house.”

  “This I have to see,” said Gabe, racing past her to the tiled bathroom. “The tub has water in it!” he yelled.

  Sam sprang across the hall in record time and skidded to a halt beside her brother. “Oh my gosh!” she said.

  The tub was one-quarter filled with water. Gabe dropped to his hands and knees, peering at the pipes—which didn’t quite reach down to the floor.

  “The plumbing’s not even connected!” Sam cried.

  Gabe leapt back to his feet. “How can there be water in the tub without any plumbing?”

  Then his jaw dropped. He gaped at the tub and yelped again.

  “Huh?” Sam said.

  The water had disappeared.

  Sam shuddered and backed out of the room, colliding with J.J. and the others who had crowded in the doorway.

  Gabe rubbed his eyes. “Whoa!” he stammered, and caught his breath. “That time you almost convinced me.”

  J.J. poked Sam in the ribs. “What happened?” she hissed.

  “The pipes aren’t even connected,” Sam whispered back. “And then—poof! All the water disappeared.”

  “I don’t know how you did it,” Gabe muttered. “But I’ll figure it out.” He looked a bit shaky as he headed across the upper hallway.

  “I have to admit that gave me quite a jolt too,” Grandma Louise said with a wobbly laugh.

  Robin looked shaken. “Someone told me this had happened before, but I didn’t believe it.”

  Grandma Louise and Robin paused at the top of the stairs to discuss the ghosts. “It seems to me that most of the entities Sam and J.J. have found are lonely,” Grandma Louise observed.

  “What about me?” a voice piped up behind them.

  Sam whirled around. Ben stood there, holding Jocko’s hand.

  She laughed. “You just enjoy being here,” she said. “And your brother Robbie must like it too.”

  “I don’t know, he’s too little to ask,” Ben said. “Sometimes I wish he’d get older so we could play together.”

  “That’s it!” said Sam. “All the ghosts enjoyed living here so much that they stayed after they passed on.”

  Jocko jumped up and down, chattering at them as he clung to Ben’s hand.

  “If only you could meet some of the others who are here too,” J.J. said to Ben.

  “There must be a way,” said Sam. She brushed J.J.’s brown hair away from her ear and whispered, “How about we call all of them together at the same time?”

  J.J. thought for a moment. “It might work—but they don’t always come when we call them.”

  “Ben can bring his governess and brother and Jocko. We could ask Cheun Lee to join us. Maybe we can even convince Sheldon to bring his dog.”

  J.J. grinned. “It’s worth a try.”

  Sam asked Grandma Louise, Gabe and Robin to stand at one end of the centre well. “Please don’t say a word until we’re done,” she said. Then she turned to Ben. “Ben, could you bring Madeleine and Robbie here?” she asked. “And hang onto Jocko too, if you can.”

  Once again dark storm clouds passed over the skylight, casting an ominous atmosphere over the gloomy house.

  Sam turned to J.J. “Ready?”

  J.J. nodded.

  “Sheldon, could we talk to you please?” Sam asked. She closed her eyes and focused on saying his name over and over again in her mind.

  When J.J. jerked beside her, Sam’s eyes flew open. The lights were flickering. The power stayed on, but now the lights were dimmer than they had been just a moment ago.

  “What do you want?” Sheldon’s growly voice came from behind them.

  Sam turned to greet him. “We thought you might like to meet someone,” she said, catching a glimmer of Ben coming towards them with Madeleine and Robbie.

  “Who would I possibly w
ant to know?” Sheldon grumbled, adjusting himself in his wheelchair.

  A flash of lightning lit the place up, followed by a resounding crack of thunder. The lights flickered again and went out once more, plunging the upper hallway into dark shadow. Only the shallow emergency light glowed from the top of the staircase.

  “Get that monkey off me,” Sheldon snarled.

  “He likes you,” said Ben. His ghostly image had materialized strongly, though the governess and the baby were still faint.

  “Who are you?!” Sheldon demanded in astonishment.

  Ben introduced himself and the others, then drew a flat box from beneath his arm.

  “Do you like to play Mahjong?” he asked, holding out the game.

  “Never tried it.” Sheldon’s words were gruff, but his one eye widened with interest.

  J.J. clapped her hands, whirling to Sam. “They can see each other.”

  “Mais oui, we can,” said Madeleine, her presence growing more solid. “But what has happened to this poor man?”

  Holding Robbie in one arm, she bent to touch Sheldon’s shoulder. Although the bandaged teenager flinched, he let her check his swaddled forehead. “You need to rest, not to play Mahjong,” she clucked at him.

  “Now all we need is Cheun Lee,” Sam said. She closed her eyes again and called his name.

  Slap-slap, slap-slap, slap-slap, slap.

  Cheun Lee’s footsteps came up the back stairs, through the closed door and stopped beside them.

  “Mahjong? I like to play.” He bowed towards Ben.

  “You’re here too?” Ben grinned and passed over the Mahjong game.

  “I thought you didn’t know him,” said Sam.

  “Of course I do,” Ben replied, staring at her. “Why would you think I didn’t?”

  “Well, we asked you if you knew him,” said Sam.

  J.J. giggled and reminded her, “We asked him if he knew Howie, but he didn’t—because that’s not his name.”

  Sam blushed as she realized her mistake.

  “Cheun Lee is great at Mahjong,” said Ben, bowing to him. “A great cook too.”

  “He cooked for you?” asked Sam.