The Haunting of Lovesong House

by G. F. Frost

  The two men ran to the staircase hoping to reach Massey before the house came down on them all, but as they reached the foot of the stairs, a bright light shone through the parlor windows distracting them. Theo and Father Patrick turned towards the light and realized it was coming from the cemetery. They ran into the parlor and to the window peering into the darkness almost tripping over one another as an unseen force slung pillows and candlesticks at them. As soon as Theo looked towards the graves, the commotion ended. He could see a bright light hovering over the headstones. The bent oaks above the cemetery fence were blowing wildly in the wind. Both men watched amazed as the light grew even brighter and rushed from the trees towards them and through the window past them and out the front door. All went still.

  Father Patrick could not catch his breath as he made the sign of the cross across the front of his chest. Theo looked out the window again and saw the light once again hanging determinedly over the tombstones. He ran into the foyer closing and locking the front door then into the kitchen to do the same. After closing the door, he walked towards the parlor. Father Patrick met him at the door, as their eyes met, they both bounded up the staircase and into the bedroom.

  The light of the foyer beamed into the large room and onto the bed. Massey was sound asleep. She had not heard or seen a thing. The men stopped at the foot of the bed and looked at her. Both of them wondered if she was dreaming. As Theo walked to the side of the bed and looked down at her, he felt the urge to take her in his arms and run with her. He was frightened. Now, he was frightened more than ever. He wanted to wake her and drag her from all this.

  The bedroom was intact except for a few pictures that had fallen from their hooks on the wall and a few pieces that had fallen from the top of the antique dresser. The light from the cemetery was still glowing through the blinds of the bedroom. Father Patrick stood at the foot of the bed, amazed that Massey had not awoken from all the turmoil. He stood wondering how even a sleeping pill could keep her from rousing during the otherworldly storm that had just shaken the house. Raising his hand to make the sign of the cross above the bed, he noticed something.

  “The book, Theo, the diary!” Father Patrick exclaimed.

  Theo looked down at the small thick book on the nightstand. He looked back at Father Patrick and reached for the book. As he touched it, Massey stirred. Theo grabbed the book and motioned Father Patrick to follow him. As they left the room, Father Patrick stopped and looked towards Massey. He too wanted to take her in his arms and take her away from here, but he knew that couldn’t happen. Closing the door, he hurried down the steps behind Theo.

  The two men rushed into the parlor and looked out the window and into the cemetery. The light was pulsing and dancing wildly over the graves. Father Patrick pushed his face towards the window and saw the light morph into an image; he pulled his face back and tried to speak.

  “Look!” Father Patrick yelled pointing at the light.

  Theo looked into the light and watched in horror as the whiteness of the oval ball transformed into a face of a grimacing woman, and then back into the shimmering mass again. His hands were shaking wildly as he handed the book to Father Patrick and closed the curtain. He rushed to the switch on the wall and turned on the overhead lights. Father Patrick knew what he wanted. They had to read the diary.

  “Sit down, Father.” Theo said pointing towards the sofa.

  Father Patrick sat down and pulled the glasses from his shirt pocket. He held the book in his lap as he looked over at Theo sitting impatiently beside him on the sofa. Father Patrick realized that this was their last and only hope of figuring it all out. He knew that if they couldn’t solve it all tonight, Massey and Theo would leave, and Lovesong House, Marie, and Joseph would never rest in peace. Father Patrick knew this night would test his faith. He knew.

  He took a deep breath as he opened the book. His hands were shaking, as Theo watched the priest flip through the pages.

  “Read it out loud!” Theo demanded.

  Father Patrick nodded and began to read.

  After reading the first few pages, he stopped and looked at Theo.

  “Skip over the parties and things, just look for something meaningful,” Theo said.

  Father Patrick began to look through the book for entries that seemed important to Lovesong House. He read about the construction, about the deaths of family, about the marriage of Joseph and Marie, and about Tattienne. As he finished the part about Marie’s concern for her sister-in-law, he stopped and turned to Theo.

  “Maybe that’s it, the Voodoo thing she was involved in. Maybe Totti did something with Voodoo that is causing all this,” Father Patrick said.

  “Maybe, keep reading,” Theo replied.

  Father Patrick read page after page, on and on. Throughout the night, the two men discussed any part they could relate to the happenings at the house, but nothing made sense. From time to time, Theo would encourage Father Patrick to keep reading as he poured them both a cup of coffee. After four cups each and most of the book covered, Father Patrick laid it down and pulled his glasses from his face.

  “I don’t know, Theo. I don’t see anything here that will help us,” he said sadly.

  “Just finish it. Look the light is still in the cemetery. We have to do something,” Theo said as he nodded towards the parlor window.

  Father Patrick shook his head and rubbed the lenses of his glasses against his shirt. He didn’t want to give up, but he was frightened and tired and feeling beaten down. The feelings of insecurities were creeping back into him, and he hated questioning whether he had the faith it took to be a priest. He looked into Theo’s eyes and back towards the light in the window. He realized that he couldn’t be as beaten down as Theo. He smiled at Theo and began to read.

  Marie’s writings were lovely and fluent and passionate, she revealed everything that words could reveal from her experiences in life. Both men were moved by the tender and loving personality opened up to them within the pages, but neither could determine anything written there that would cause the chaos they had experienced. After an hour of reading, Theo left Father Patrick, once again returning with a cup of hot coffee. As he returned, he noticed the look of astonishment on the priest’s face. Tears were welling up in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Theo asked as he sat the cups on the coffee table.

  Father Patrick swallowed hard and opened the diary to the last few pages. He looked up at Theo.

  “I think I understand now, Theo. And, so will you,” he said as he handed Theo the book.

  Theo took the heavy leather diary and looked into Father Patrick’s eyes. He knew that he had read something important, something pertinent. He began to read. As he read, Father Patrick stood up and walked to the window. This time his hands weren’t shaking, this time his heart wasn’t beating fast. He knew what they had to do.

  Theo finished the last page and looked up at Father Patrick. His eyes were wide and nervous.

  “That’s it. That’s got to be it! We’ve got to take care of it! Come on, we have a lot of work to do!” Theo said excitedly.

  Father Patrick wasn’t sure exactly what Theo had in mind, but he had a pretty good idea. It was going to be a very, very long night.

  As Theo laid the book on the coffee table, he heard the slight sound of singing from the upper floors. He looked up and started to follow it. Shaking his head, he continued to the foyer and bound himself in jackets, scarves and rubber boots. Father Patrick went to the closet, pulled out some of Theo’s warmest coats, and after choosing one for himself, followed suit. They walked through the kitchen and through the doors out onto the back veranda. They marched together as they headed for the barn. They were men on a long-awaited mission. They were men who finally had a definite purpose to fulfill.

  * * * *

  Massey woke startled. She could hear the singing, but it was louder. Somewhere outside she heard familiar voices speaking loudly to one another through the screeching wind. One sounded like Th
eo. Then, she heard the sound of hard metal against frozen ground. She sat up and listened carefully, but it was difficult to make it out beyond the voice of Marie singing the love song over her head. Massey climbed out of bed and started towards the window. She felt dizzy as the singing swirled around her, and she stepped on a picture lying in the middle of the floor, nearly cracking the glass.

  She looked down at the frame underneath her foot and stepping back, looked around the room. She could make out vague images of the items from her dresser scattered about. Stepping through the maze of cologne and pictures, she headed for the window. As she pulled up the blinds, she first noticed the light hovering high in the tree tops over the cemetery. Then her eyes lowered and caught the image of Theo and Father Patrick digging in the ground. Her heart raced. She had to see what they were doing. It didn’t make sense.

  Massey didn’t take time put on her robe. She stepped into her slippers, ran to the bedroom door, and down the stairs as quickly as her legs would allow. The singing from upstairs was deafening as she reached the kitchen door. She could hear whimpering from the pantry as she opened the door, but she didn’t take the time to look for Jenkins. She had to see what Theo and Father Patrick were doing.

  The frigid December wind blew its icy fingers beneath her thin gown and between her legs as she ran towards the men. She could still hear Marie’s voice singing from the open kitchen door and throughout the house. Massey glanced up into the trees at the light as she ran towards the men. They were digging frantically into a grave as she approached them. Theo turned as he saw her from the corner of his eye. He was surprised to see her in her thin revealing gown running through the yard. She looked like a ghost herself, long, red hair shining in the moonlight and white gown billowing behind her in the wind.

  He met her midway and pulled off his jacket to cover his wife.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked.

  “What are you doing?” Massey yelled.

  “Go back inside. You’ll catch your death,” Theo replied as he turned her towards the house.

  Massey felt dizzy again as her husband turned her and nudged her away from him. She whipped back around and followed Theo to the grave. Father Patrick had knelt down to the side of the headstone and was looking into the hole. As Theo approached the priest, he noticed the open grave revealing a coffin. It was under Marie’s headstone. Massey ran to Father Patrick’s side and knelt beside him.

  “Father, what are you doing?” she yelled, trying to shield her face from the blistering wind.

  Father Patrick looked up at Massey and then at Theo. He didn’t know how to answer. Theo walked over to Massey and pulled her to him. She looked into his eyes and waited for an answer, but as he tried to find the right words, the light in the trees above them began to pulse and loud banging noises could be heard coming from the attic of the house. Massey turned towards the house as she heard Jenkins howling from within. Suddenly, the winds became wild and frantic, nearly knocking the two off their feet and almost knocking Father Patrick into the open grave.

  “Theo, what are you doing? You’ve got to stop now!” Massey screamed barely forcing the words out against the winds.

  “Go into the house, Massey. Read the last page of the diary,” Theo yelled as he pushed her towards the house. “Then, you’ll understand!” He watched her fighting against the blistering gushes of icy wind.

  Massey tried to run, but the winds were pushing against her, she had to bend her knees and duck her head to push onward against the stinging cold. By the time she reached the back porch, the door was slamming open and shut. She grabbed the handle and the movement almost knocked her to the floor. Regaining her footing, she pulled with everything in her to force open the door and rush inside. The banging in the attic was loud and thundering. As she looked into the pantry, she saw poor Jenkins shivering in the corner howling pitifully.

  She knelt in front of the dog and tried to comfort him. Pulling his collar, she got him to his feet and led him out the door. Jenkins ran to the barn and inside, his howls were even louder. Theo stood beside the grave trying to keep his footing against the forces of the wind as he looked back towards the house. Massey was running through the foyer and up the stairs towards her bedroom. Realizing the diary was not beside her bed, she bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was not on the table.

  “Where the hell is it?” she screamed to herself as the house began to rumble loudly.

  She darted into the foyer again and then into the parlor. The diary was lying on the coffee table where Theo and Father Patrick had left it. She grabbed the book and ran out onto the back veranda opening it. The pages were flipping wildly against the icy winds. Massey looked into the cemetery and saw Theo kneeling beside Father Patrick, holding a flashlight and pointing it into the grave. Massey wanted to scream to them to stop.

  She tucked the book under Theo’s jacket and ran towards the barn. Jenkins was standing behind the barn doors howling wildly as she entered. She turned on the lights and made her way to a crate to sit down. She could hear the howling of the wind and the banging of the sounds in the house as she opened the book to the last page. She began to read.

  Totti, I know you will be the one to read this. I am sorry for what you have had to suffer, but it must be this way. I could only live without my son because of my love for Joseph, and now he is gone. I cannot live without my heart, without my soul, without my only love. I know that we will be together somewhere, somehow, but I cannot endure living on Earth without Joseph. Please bury me with my locket and the booties I made for baby Joseph. I will place them on his cold little feet when I see him soon. We will all be together again, I’m sure.

  Please forgive me and try not to grieve because it must be this way. May God forgive me and place me in the arms of my beloved husband and place our son in my arms once more.

  Your loving sister,

  Marie

  Massey dropped the diary onto the dirt floor of the barn and looked out the doors towards the cemetery. Father Patrick had sat back on his legs watching as Theo pushed a metal rod into the hole. Massey knew what he was doing. She jumped to her feet and ran towards her husband. She watched silently as he reached into the hole and lifted something. She knew what she had to do.

  Theo turned and watched as Massey ran towards the banging door of the house. He nodded towards Father Patrick and the priest lowered his head and closed his eyes. They were trying to shield their faces from the blistering wind as Theo pried open the lid and the two men looked into the coffin. The sight lying before them was not what they had expected. Both men made the sign of the cross and sat back on the cold ground. Father Patrick sighed and lowered his head once again. Theo sat gazing at the sight laid out before them.

  Massey raced frantically into the parlor; she grabbed the tiny booties from the mantel and reached for the locket hanging over the picture of Joseph and Marie. Her hands and body were trembling terribly as she looked into the faces of the couple. Marie’s face seemed peaceful and loving; her eyes seemed to be alive and serene. Massey turned and ran back through the foyer and out the kitchen door. As she hurried towards the kneeling men, she noticed the look on their faces and her pace slowed.

  By the time she reached the gate of the cemetery, she could hardly force her feet to move beneath her. Theo looked up at her and nodded. He rose to his feet and walked to meet her reaching for the items in her hands. Father Patrick pulled himself up from the frozen earth beside the grave and reached out for Massey’s hand. She walked to him and placed her hand in his allowing him to lead her to the open grave.

  Father Patrick nodded and placed his arm around Massey’s shoulder. She looked into the coffin and saw the body of Marie lying still and lifeless, her long black curls still soft on her chest. Her face was dark but still young and lovely. Her small thin hands crossed one on the other upon her chest. She looked as though she had been placed there only recently. Massey gasped as she felt a shiver across her back. She watched as
Theo handed the little dingy booties to Father Patrick.

  Father Patrick knelt down and lifted Marie’s hand placing the soft stockings beneath it. As he did, a weakness came over him, and he sat back on the ground. Theo reached to hand him the locket, but the priest shook his head. Theo bent down and ran his hand behind the stiff frail head to lift it.

  “No, hand it to me,” Massey said as she reached towards her husband.

  Theo looked up at her and released Marie’s head from his hand. He took Massey’s arms and helped her into the deep hole, and then he lifted the locket towards Massey. Bending down to her knees, Massey took the locket and sat down beside the coffin. She slid her hand behind the cold head and pulled the chain down and around the thin cold neck, letting it lie on Marie’s chest. She sat crouched beside the lovely corpse and cried as the air began to lighten around them. Theo pulled her from the dark grave and sat her on the ground. They all looked at the lovely face; the winds began to die as they looked at the small booties in her hand and the locket on her chest. Theo slowly closed the rusty lid. Father Patrick placed his right hand above the coffin and made the sign of the cross.

  Theo began to push the loose dirt onto the coffin and fill the grave. Father Patrick and Massey began to help. By the time they’d filled the hole, the winds had stopped completely. There were no sounds of rumbling or doors slamming coming from the house. They couldn’t hear any singing, only silence.

  Jenkins bounded from inside the barn as they gathered the shovels and tools. No one had spoken a word. Theo took the tools in his hands and headed for the barn as Father Patrick and Massey stood at the cemetery gate. As Massey turned to walk towards the house, her knees gave way and she began to collapse. Father Patrick caught her in his arms and lifted her up like a child, carrying her towards Lovesong House.

  Theo stopped to watch the two and shook his head as he saw Massey look over Father Patrick’s shoulder at the grave. The early morning sunshine was warm on her face as they reached the back door. Father Patrick could feel Massey’s tears on his neck as he carried her into the house. Once inside, they felt something very different. The calmness and serenity within the house was something they hadn’t felt there before. It was like walking into a church in the midst of a riot. Both Father Patrick and Massey felt it. It was a peaceful feeling, something warm and secure.