A Haunting In Wisconsin

by Michael Richan

  “They are trampled,” Granger said, observing the flowerbed. “He blamed Wanda?”

  “They all blame Wanda,” Eliza replied.

  They waited longer. The mid-morning sun produced a lazy feeling, and Eliza felt herself beginning to drift off when she heard a yell in the distance. All three of them shot to their feet.

  “That sounded like Mack!” Robert said.

  “No one’s here,” Eliza said, scanning the front yard.

  “It came from around back,” Granger replied, leaving the porch and running to the back yard.

  People were beginning to gather around Mack, who was lying on the ground. Ivan rushed to the scene, kneeling next to his son, examining the rusty garden shears sticking out of his son’s leg.

  “What happened?” Ivan asked.

  “Wanda!” Mack said. “She stabbed me!”

  “That monster!” Teresa said, looking down while she wrung her hands. “I told you they should have done something about her!”

  Ivan gently pulled the shears from his son’s leg. Blood started to flow, and he placed his hand over the wound, pressing down. Then he picked up his son, and began to carry him into the house.

  “We’re leaving!” Ivan said as he marched to the back door. “You’re all crazy to stay here, with that thing!”

  “No Wanda,” Eliza said to Granger and Robert, turning to scan the back yard.

  “We never saw her yesterday, either,” Robert added.

  “Do you think we missed her?” Granger asked. “Or did that kid stab himself?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Eliza replied. “They all have such a single-minded focus on blaming the girl for everything, it’s weird.”

  “Well,” Granger said, returning to the front yard, “what happens now? You two said you took a nap?”

  “Yeeeaah,” Robert replied, elbowing Eliza when Granger couldn’t see.

  “We went back to the room and eventually fell asleep,” Eliza said.

  “And when we woke up, we were back to reality,” Robert said.

  “I wonder what would happen if we just stayed up?” Granger asked.

  “I don’t know,” Robert replied. “I suppose we could try it and see.”

  They reached the front of the house. “Back to the porch chairs?” Eliza asked.

  “I thought they were comfortable,” Granger replied, heading for them.

  “Me too,” Robert added. The three of the settled into the chairs and looked out over the front yard.

  “This really is a beautiful area,” Granger said. “And not too different from the present day. Shows you how little things change.”

  As Eliza was wondering exactly how far back in the past they were, Teresa and Abbey emerged from the entryway. Teresa was dressed in a riding outfit.

  Abbey saw them sitting in the chairs. “We’re off for equine adventure! There’s a stable just up the road. Teresa cut a deal with them to borrow a stallion for a couple of hours. Want to come along?”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Eliza replied. “Thanks for the invitation, though!”

  “Of course,” Abbey replied.

  “Come along, Abbey,” Teresa said, already down the steps, anxious to begin her horse riding, and happy that the invitation had been declined. Abbey descended the steps and followed her.

  “Oh, Abbey?” Eliza called.

  The woman stopped and turned, while Teresa continued on. “Yes?” she called back.

  “What day is it today?” Eliza asked.

  “Why, it’s Saturday!” she cheerily replied.

  “What date, though?”

  “April twenty-seventh!”

  “Year?”

  “Year? Goodness, it’s 1957!”

  “Thank you!” Eliza called. Abbey smiled and waved, then turned to hurry and catch up with Teresa.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite trying to stay awake, the sun on the porch caused them to slowly drift off. Eliza found herself waking on the bed, and pushed herself up. There was light coming in through the windows; they’d slept the entire night.

  Robert was still asleep next to her. She turned to see Granger beginning to rouse on the other bed. Out cold in a chair in the middle of the room was Milton. Concerned, she rose from the bed and walked to him. His chest slowly rose and fell. She gently pressed on his shoulder, and his eyes opened.

  “Ahem,” he said, sitting up straight. “I guess I dozed off.”

  “We all did,” Granger said, rubbing his face. “I swear I didn’t intend to fall asleep on that porch.”

  “Neither did I,” Eliza said. “Time plays out a little differently in there than we realize. I think it’s faster.”

  Robert sat up. “Well, that was a bust.”

  “I disagree,” Granger replied. “We learned a lot. It confirmed a few things.”

  “Like, it’s a loop,” Eliza said.

  “Exactly,” Granger replied. “And just like before, Wanda doesn’t show.”

  “Neither does her mother, Martha,” Eliza added. “Last time, Mack was stabbed on the front lawn. This time, it was the back yard.”

  “Small variations due to our presence,” Granger replied. “Did you see Mack get stabbed the first time?”

  “No, we were in our room,” Robert replied.

  “Well, we were looking over the front yard this time,” Granger replied. “The loop made sure Mack’s stabbing didn’t happen in front of us. Moved it to the back.”

  Robert stood and stretched. “We’ve got to start focusing on Wanda,” he said. “I think she’s the key to this.”

  “I agree,” Eliza replied. “She’s a no-show, but she seems to be the center of it all.”

  “Alright,” Granger said. “We can try a trance and see what happens. First, though, I’m headed to the bathroom. And after that, I’d like some coffee.”

  “I’ll go down and start some,” Milton replied, heading for the door.

  “Give us a half hour, will you, Milton?” Eliza said. “Sleeping in these clothes all night, I feel gross. I’d like to get cleaned up.”

  “Of course,” Milton replied, and stepped out.

  ●

  Milton served breakfast. Granger ate quickly and asked to use Milton’s phone before Eliza and Robert had finished. He returned after a few minutes, just as Eliza was eating the last of her eggs.

  “Well, we’ll see how that goes,” Granger said, sitting at the table and refilling his coffee mug.

  “Who did you call?” Robert asked.

  “His name is Don Dellwood,” Granger answered. “His father used to run the county newspaper. Knew everything about everyone. He died some years back, but his son, Don, kept up on a lot of it until they shut down the paper a few years ago.”

  “You think he’ll be able to shed any light on this?” Robert asked.

  “He’s heard of the place,” Granger replied, “so that’s a good sign. He said he’d dig through his father’s stuff and see what he could find. His father had an incredible card catalog system. Helped me out a couple of times before he passed.”

  “While we’re waiting on him,” Eliza said, “I think we should try to reach Wanda.”

  “OK,” Granger said. “Any reason not to do it right here?”

  Milton, who had been sitting at the table, quietly listening to their conversation, perked up. “Do what right here?”

  “We’re going to do a trance,” Robert said. “It’s a way to go deeper into the River.”

  “If we’re lucky, we can get Wanda to show,” Granger added. “It might work; it might not.”

  “Would you watch over us again?” Eliza asked Milton. “We’ll be in a very deep state, and it leaves our bodies vulnerable.”

  “Of course,” Milton replied. “And I apologize for falling asleep last night. I want you all to know how appreciative I am for everything you’re doing. When I reached out to Nathan, I was really grasping at straws, not knowing if anything would come of it. You all have uncovered more in two days than I
have been able to since I’ve owned the place. I’m truly grateful. You’re saving an old man’s retirement.”

  “Don’t worry,” Granger replied. “This is old hat for us. Just a normal haunted house. Nothing to be too concerned about.” He patted Milton’s hand.

  Eliza, Robert, and Granger moved their chairs from the table, and turned them to form a tight circle. Then they sat in them.

  Eliza took several deep breaths, and looked at Granger.

  “I’ll start the trance,” Granger said. “It usually takes me ten or fifteen minutes. I’ll need complete silence, Milton — don’t move around or say anything, OK?”

  “I won’t budge,” Milton said, still sitting at the table.

  Granger closed his eyes.

  Eliza closed hers in response. She expected several minutes of quiet before things would begin to develop; instead, she felt herself pulled into Granger’s trance the moment she dropped into the River.

  Everything was still tilted, but the feeling of nausea was lessened inside Granger’s trance. Darkness surrounded them, and a blue mist circled at the edge of the darkness.

  What’s happening? Eliza asked.

  Not a normal trance, Granger replied. I barely have any control at all.

  There was a pulse of light overhead, and Eliza looked up. Images were cascading down, like a projection on a faraway ceiling that was slowly descending toward them. Three circles formed and pulsed; Eliza had the impression that they were forming a triangle. Their circumferences grew as they descended, until they overtook each other and were engulfed, becoming one large circle.

  What does it mean? Robert asked.

  Hell if I know, Granger replied.

  Eliza heard a voice — it was of a small child, a girl. She tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, and realized it was coming from the circle, hovering in the air above them.

  Do you hear that? Eliza asked.

  Yes, Granger replied. A girl. Wanda?

  They listened; the voice became louder as the circle approached; when it was within a few feet of their heads, Eliza could make out what it was saying.

  I hate you! the voice was screaming. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

  The circle dropped, encompassing them all. Eliza was immediately overtaken with an incredibly strong, rancid smell. It took over her nostrils and stung as it entered her lungs. She felt herself gag, and the nausea swelled. She was sure breakfast was on its way back up when Granger dropped the trance.

  They coughed, trying to catch their breath.

  “Well?” Milton asked. “Did you see her? Wanda?”

  “I don’t know,” Robert said, standing. “Excuse me.”

  Eliza assumed he was headed for the bathroom. She felt the bile in her throat subside, and reached out, afraid she might fall off her chair. Granger’s arm was there, and they stabilized each other.

  She looked up at Granger; he looked as if he wanted to vomit. He let go of her hand, rose from his chair, and walked to the kitchen sink. He spat repeatedly, as if he was trying to get the taste of something awful out of his mouth.

  “What happened?” Milton asked.

  “Horrible stench,” Granger replied. “Disgusting.”

  “I haven’t participated in a lot of trances,” Eliza said, trying to swallow. “But that didn’t seem normal.”

  “No,” Granger replied. “There was nothing normal about it.”

  “What were those circles?” Eliza asked.

  “No idea,” Granger replied, and spit into the sink again.

  “Circles?” Milton asked. “No Wanda?”

  “No, no Wanda,” Eliza said, rising from her chair. She was about to check on Robert when he returned to the room.

  “I’d like to go to my grave never smelling that again!” Robert said, falling into the chair. “That was god awful.”

  “Did you hear the voice?” Eliza asked. “Just before the circle reached us? It was a girl’s voice.”

  “‘I hate you’,” Robert said. “Yeah, I heard it. Then she assaulted us with that smell. It was so powerful, it felt like an attack.”

  “I’m beginning to think those ghosts were right,” Granger said, turning on the water to wash out the sink. “Wanda is some kind of monster.”

  “What now?” Eliza asked.

  “Our options are starting to dwindle,” Granger replied. “If that’s how trances are going to go, and we can’t really use the River like we’re used to, I’m not sure what we try next.”

  “Maybe your historian will come through,” Milton offered.

  Eliza saw Granger and Robert exchange a skeptical glance. “Let’s hope so,” she said, not wanting Milton to lose confidence in them.

  “There’s one other thing I think we should pursue,” Robert offered.

  “What’s that?” Granger asked.

  “Horace Lyon,” Robert replied. “He was mentioned a couple of times by Abbey and Teresa.”

  “Ivan mentioned Horace too,” Eliza added. “That first night.”

  “So, like Wanda,” Granger said, “this is someone that people have talked about, but hasn’t been seen?”

  “I might have seen him,” Eliza replied. “Someone was looking down at us from the second story, when we were examining the flowerbed with Ivan that first night.”

  “What did he look like?” Robert asked.

  “I don’t know,” Eliza replied. “I can’t even be sure it was him. It was just a figure that moved away from the window when he realized I was watching.”

  ●

  Don called back later that morning, saying he’d unearthed some information. He’d made copies of all of it, and wanted to hand it off; since he was a couple of hours away, they made arrangements to meet halfway at a coffee shop.

  Eliza asked Milton if he wanted to join them, but he declined, saying he needed to remain at the B&B in case of walk-ins. Eliza felt sorry for him; he was desperate for any revenue he could get. The entire house was empty, and it didn’t seem as though there were any upcoming reservations.

  They arrived at the coffee shop after the hour-long drive and found it bustling with locals. Seated at a booth was a short man wearing a knit hat with a Vikings logo. He looked as if he was in his mid-50s, and was wearing a thick, puffy coat.

  “Hello!” Don said, and they greeted each other. Eliza felt Don shake her hand warmly, and they slid into the booth.

  “We really appreciate you doing this,” Granger said.

  “No bother,” Don replied. “I kinda like it when I get to use my dad’s archives. It’s like he’s still there, you know, living in those card catalogs. So I don’t mind at all. You knew him?”

  “Well, our paths crossed once or twice,” Granger replied. “He helped me out a few times with information. Kinda like this.”

  “His knowledge of the county was encyclopedic,” Don said enthusiastically. “I know a lot of it, but not like him. He ran the county paper, but he knew a lot more than that. Not much happened in the northwest part of Wisconsin that he wasn’t aware of.”

  “So what did you find?” Granger asked.

  Just then a waitress arrived, and they paused while meals were ordered. Eliza smiled as she heard Don order enough food to feed two people.

  “So, found a fair amount,” Don said after the waitress left, lifting an inch-thick packet from the seat and plopping it on the table in front of them. “Those are copies.”

  “Wow,” Robert replied. “That was fast.”

  “His system was brilliant,” Don replied. “Everything cross references six different ways. I mean, it’s all on little cards like the library, but it works.”

  “What did you find out?” Granger asked, reaching for the packet.

  “The place was built in the ’50s by a couple who ran it as a boarding house. It did OK; it was never really a big hit, not like some of the resorts, because it was so remote and it wasn’t by a lake. People like lakes.”

  “That they do,” Granger said, flipping throug
h the photocopies.

  “They sold it to a woman,” Don continued, “in 1958. She ran it for a while — not long — before closing it down. It was shuttered.”

  Eliza felt hot in the booth, and wiggled out of her jacket. She couldn’t understand how Don could remain bundled up in his heavy coat.

  “So the place sat empty for decades after that,” Don continued. “A man named Olmstead bought it in the early 90s and refurbished it. Tried to market the place with some success. Sold it just over a year ago to the current owner.”

  “According to the current owner,” Eliza said, “it wasn’t as successful as the previous owner made out.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” Don replied. “People wondered why they built it in the first place. There wasn’t a lot of expectation that it would do well.”

  The food arrived. Don’s order took up an entire end of the table. He dug in. “Why are you all interested in it?”

  Before she could stop herself, Eliza blurted out, “It’s haunted.” She could feel Granger and Robert stiffen in response.

  “Haunted?” Don said, lowering his fork. “Haunted?”

  “Yeah,” Eliza replied, a little sheepishly. She glanced at Robert; he was trying not to look pissed.

  “Well, get out!” Don said, slapping the table. “I always thought it was haunted! So did a lot of people!”

  “You did?” Eliza asked, deciding to ignore Granger and Robert for a moment, and ride along with Don’s enthusiasm.

  “There’s so many haunted places around here,” Don answered, resuming his eating. “That place is one of dozens. People like to pretend places aren’t, but they are; we all know it. That place, people would say, ‘it’s too far out of the way,’ and all that, but I think the real reason it was shut down for so many years was because of the ghosts. A place gets a reputation, and it’s hard to overcome.”

  Eliza watched as Don inhaled the plates of food; she was surprised that such a small man could pack it in so quickly.

  “You all investigating the place?” Don asked. “Are you trying to clean it up?”