The last thing he heard was the scream of a train whistle, as the 7:55 Flyer came roaring down the tracks.
6
Seeing Ghosts
Sea Island, Georgia
I grew up on Sea Island, Georgia, where my old Granny used to tell us that there was a trick to seeing ghosts. Well, I was a young and foolish boy back in those days, and I was just plain excited to hear that common folk could experience ghosts. I demanded to know exactly how it was done.
“Timmy,” my Granny said, “if you take the wet coating from a dog’s eye and stick it in yer own eye, then you can see ghosts. But don’t you go trying nothing, Timmy. They’re bad news, them ghosts.”
“Of course not, Granny,” says I, with my most angelic smile. Oh, I was a bit of a scamp in those days. Always up to my ears in trouble.
I couldn’t wait to try out my new skill. As soon as everyone was distracted after dinner, I sneaked up on my old dog, Lion. Now Lion, he liked to curl up by the fireplace at nighttime. He was snoozin’ away all cozy, and he never guessed I was sneaking up on him until I stuck my finger in his eye. Well Lion, he shot near up to the ceiling with a terrible yelp and then jumped right out the window. Good-bye, dog. Lucky for Lion, we’d left the window open that night.
Seeing Ghosts
“Timmy,” yelled Granny from the kitchen. “What’s wrong with Lion?”
“He musta heard something outside, Granny,” I fibbed.
Once Granny started talking to my Ma again, I rubbed the finger I’d stuck in Lion’s eye into my own eye, grabbed my cap, and left the house. I’d only traveled about a hundred feet toward the woods when a huge white mist started forming in front of my eyes. It moved like a swarm of birds, but I knew it weren’t birds, ’cause each of them things had two long legs and two long arms. They started flying around like buzzards, and came right at me with a woofing sound. I let out a yelp and ducked to the ground as they flew right over me. My heart was hammering near out of my chest, and my hands were shaking. I never realized seeing ghosts could be so scary.
When I looked up again, the night was dark and there were no more bird-ghosts. I was feeling a little queasy after my narrow escape, but as I said before, I was foolish in those days, so I kept walking into the woods.
Just where the path narrows a bit, I heard a hissing sound. A strip of light started rising from a fallen log near the creek. The rope of light was squirming upward like a snake, and suddenly it opened two black eyes and I saw it was a ghost snake. It opened its mouth and a forked tongue reached for me. I let out a terrified squeak, closed my eyes, and ran for my life. I seemed to hear that snake slithering behind me as I bumped into tree branches, tripped over some roots, and finally banged square into a broad tree trunk. I kept pumping my arms for a while, but I finally realized I wasn’t getting anywhere with that tree in the way. So I stopped running. I didn’t want to open my eyes, but since I had no idea where I was, I decided to chance it. I opened my eyes just a wee bit, but all I could see was the bark of the tree nearly touching my eyelashes. I pushed away from the tree and looked around for the snake, but it was gone.
I made my way back to the path, keeping my eyes on the ground ’cause I didn’t want to see any more ghosts. There was a rustling sound to my right, and I shut my eyes real quick and started running again. I could hear that ghost running with me, and then it must have gotten in front of me, ’cause I tripped and tumbled head over heels. I kept my eyes shut even though I could feel the breath of that ghost on my face, and it kept licking me. Then I realized it was Lion.
Feeling foolish, I opened up my eyes and said, “Stupid dog.” I grabbed him and gave him a hug, and sat up. Then I saw the most terrifying sight of all. A lady, all in white, was rising slowly from what looked like an open grave. She moaned as she stepped out of the ground, and she pointed her finger right at us. Me and Lion, we moaned too, and we took to our heels and ran as fast as we could for home. We didn’t even wait to open the front door, we just threw ourselves in the same window that Lion had jumped out of and dived under the hearth rug.
We stayed under that rug until Ma came into the parlor to send me up to bed. Granny came with her, and when she saw me under the rug she just laughed and laughed. She knew what I had done. She told me to make sure I cleaned my eye out with water before I went to sleep, ’cause who knew what ghosts might be haunting this house. I shot right out to the kitchen and got some water from the bucket to clean my eye with. And I never took the coat out of a dog’s eye again. Once was plenty for me.
7
The Headless Haunt
Madison, North Carolina
The evening was windy and cold. It was a bad night to be out walking, but the old man and his wife kept pushing their way through the thick mud on the road, trying to reach their son’s house. Darkness had fallen swiftly, and threatening clouds hovered overhead.
“Mother, I reckon my feet are nigh on frozen,” the old man said after a while. “And I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”
“Well, Father, I think we should find a place to stay the night,” his wife replied, hugging her shawl tightly around her. “I reckon Junior won’t mind if we don’t arrive till morning.”
Heartened by this decision, the old couple kept watch for a place to spend the night. Soon they saw a house through the thick trees that lined the muddy road. As they approached, they saw that it was quite a grand house, with smoke rising from the chimney and firelight flickering in many windows.
“Father, I reckon the folks who live here are rich,” the old woman said to her husband. “We’d best go around to the back door.”
“Whatever you think best,” said the old man, who didn’t care which door they used, as long as they got in out of the cold.
They went around to the back porch and knocked on the door. A man’s voice called, “Come in.” So in they went.
They found themselves in a large kitchen with a fire in the hearth and skillets waiting as if someone was about to prepare supper. But there was no one in the room. They looked around, but they didn’t see the man who bade them enter. The old woman saw a rabbit boiling in a covered pot, and she smelled beans baking. On the wide wooden table were meat and flour and lard.
“Somebody’s cooking dinner,” the old woman told her husband, who was warming his hands over the fire. “I wonder where they be?”
“Seems a bit strange, them running off just after they told us to come in,” said the old man. “But meanwhile, Mother, take off your wet shoes and stockings and get yourself warmed up. I’ll run out and fill up those buckets at the springhouse we passed so we can have some coffee. Maybe our host will make himself known while I’m outside.”
“I’ll get the brown beans and that molly cottontail and that cornbread ready for our dinner in three shakes of a lamb’s tail,” the old woman said with relish as she took off her wet shoes and stockings.
The old man went out with a bucket, and the old woman sat down by the fire to toast her feet. She was just thinking about getting up and mixing up some cornbread when right through the shut door came a man with no head. The old woman gasped in fear and astonishment. The man was wearing britches, a vest, shirt, coat, and shoes. He even wore a fancy collar. But rising above it was a bloody stump where his head should have been.
“What in the name of the Lord do you want?” the old woman gasped.
And the man started to talk to her without any mouth. The words seemed to form themselves in the old woman’s head as he told her how he came to be this way.
“I am in misery, madam,” the man said. “I was killed by a robber who was after my money. He removed my head with a cutlass and then took me to the cellar and buried my head on one side and my body on the other. Then this villain and his companions dug all around my cellar, but fortunately they did not find my treasure. Alas, they went away and left me in two pieces, doomed to hau
nt this house until someone should restore my head and bury me in one grave.”
The old woman was moved by the ghost’s story. “How is it no one has ever restored you?” she asked.
“There have been others, madam, who have entered this house. But as none addressed me in the name of the Lord, I was unable to speak to them.”
At that moment the door swung open, passing right through the body of the ghost. The old man hurried in with his bucket full of water, stamping his feet to get the mud off.
“Mother, it’s plumb cold out there,” he said, setting the bucket on the shelf. He turned back toward the door, intending to shut it, and saw the ghost. The old man gasped and backed away, his horrified gaze on the bloody stump where the ghost’s head should be.
“It’s all right, Father,” the old woman said hastily, closing the door against the cold. “Sir, please tell my husband your tale, in the name of the Lord.”
The Headless Haunt
So the ghost told the old man his story. When the ghost finished, he asked the old couple to go to the cellar and find his head so he could be buried in one grave.
“If, in your kindness, you restore me, I will show you where my treasure is buried,” the headless haunt concluded.
The old man looked at his wife, who nodded. “We will surely help you,” he told the ghost. “Just let me get a torch and a shovel.”
“You will not need a torch,” said the ghost. With great dignity, he walked to the fire and stuck his finger in it. The finger blazed up as bright as any torch. He pointed to the place where the shovels were kept and then led the old couple down into the dark cellar by the light of his finger.
“There. That is where my head is buried,” said the ghost, pointing toward the north end of the cellar, “and there is where my body is buried,” he finished, pointing toward a hole in the south corner. “But dig here first, and you will find my barrels of silver and gold.”
The headless haunt lit up a section of the floor, and the old couple started to dig. They dug until the old woman was almost worn out. They were deep under the cellar floor. Then the old man’s shovel made a hollow thump as he pushed it into the soil, and they soon uncovered several barrels filled with gold and silver. The old woman sat on her heels, running her fingers through the beautiful coins, lit by the blazing finger of the ghost. With tears in her eyes, she said, “Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you. And now, we must restore your head to you.”
Her husband, who was staring speechlessly at the gold and silver, came out of his trance and said, “That we must, Mother. Good sir, if you will show us again where your head is buried?”
The old man helped his wife out of the pit and they followed the ghost to the corner where his head was buried. A few turns of the shovel produced the head, and the husband lifted it with the shovel and offered it to the ghost. The haunt reached over with dignity, took his head in his hands, and put it on his neck. Then he lit several candles with his burning finger so the old couple would have light to remove the gold and silver from the pit they had dug. He blew out his finger, and, still keeping a firm grip on his head, walked over to the south corner and sank through the floor into the place where his body was buried. Just before his head sank into the ground, he said, “Thank you, good sir and kind madam.”
As soon as the last bit of the ghost disappeared, the ground shook and the house trembled above their heads. Then a voice came from under the ground: “You have restored me! I am now buried together, head and corpse. Because of your kindness, I give you my lands, my house, and my money. May you be as rich as I was, and come to a more honorable end.”
The old man and his wife stared at one another in shock for a moment. Then the old woman smiled and picked up one of the candles the headless haunt had lit for them.
“Come, Father,” she said. “We have the rest of our lives to count this gold. But that cottontail will be boiled over if we wait much longer to eat supper.”
The old man took the other candle and helped his wife up the stairs. They were covered with dirt from their digging, so they washed themselves clean with lye soap. Then the old woman mixed up a batch of cornbread and the old man made some coffee with the water from the springhouse and they had a wonderful supper of cottontail and cornbread and brown beans and hot coffee.
And the old man and the old woman lived in the grand house for the rest of their days, with money to spare for food and clothing. When they died at last of old age, they left a large inheritance for their grandchildren. And no one ever saw the headless haunt again.
8
The Baseball Game
Birmingham, Alabama
As soon as Uncle Henry heard about the big barbecue and baseball game in the next town, he was absolutely determined to go. Uncle Henry once pitched for the local team, and he still loved to see a good ball game. So he got up early on Saturday morning and took the train down to the game.
Uncle Henry looked around until he found himself a good seat on one of the wagons lining the far end of the pasture where the barbecue and ball game were to take place. Pretty soon, the ballplayers came riding up on their big horses and crowded around the barbecue to get some food. There were a lot of people, and Uncle Henry had to fight his way through the laughing, arguing throng to get something to eat. The ballplayers had to rest for a bit under the big tree at the side of the field after eating too much barbecue. Then, as the spectators settled down with their food, the ballplayers started warming up on the field.
Uncle Henry reclaimed his spot on the wagon and ate with a good appetite. This was going to be a humdinger of a game, judging from the antics going on during the warm-up session. It was getting late, and Uncle Henry grew impatient. Why wasn’t the game starting? He asked a fellow what was happening and was told that one of the pitchers lived quite a ways out of town and hadn’t arrived. A few minutes later, the pitcher rode up on his horse and ran out onto the field to warm up.
By the time the game started, it was late in the afternoon. Uncle Henry knew that he was going to miss the train back home if he stayed for the whole game, but it was so exciting that he just didn’t care. He would walk home along the tracks.
What Uncle Henry hadn’t planned on was the game going until it was nearly too dark to see. But what a game! It was tied right up until the very end, and then an unexpected home run decided the game in the home team’s favor. Uncle Henry yelled himself hoarse with excitement.
And then it was over, and Uncle Henry realized he had to walk home in the dark. Uncle Henry never minded the long walk in the daytime, but walking the railroad tracks at night was not something he looked forward to. And how in tarnation was he going to see? At that moment, Uncle Henry spied a bottle on the ground beside the wagon, and he got an idea. He stopped at the local grocery store and bought enough kerosene to fill the bottle. Then he took off his necktie, folded it, and stuffed it into the bottle of kerosene like a wick. As soon as the tie was lit, Uncle Henry started walking down the railroad tracks toward home, using the bottle as a lantern to light his way.
The night got darker and darker. Storm clouds covered the sky, and Uncle Henry was getting mighty scared. He kept imagining that eyes were peering at him from beside the railroad tracks. Finally, Uncle Henry lost his nerve and started running as fast as his legs could carry him. Suddenly, a huge white dog with red eyes appeared, standing in the center of the tracks. Uncle Henry stopped dead and stared at the dog. It seemed to grow larger and larger the longer he looked at it in the light from his bottle.
“Get back!” Uncle Henry shouted, waving the bottle at the dog. The necktie slipped out of the bottle and the light extinguished on the ground as the dog backed off a pace, its red eyes still glowing at Uncle Henry. Uncle Henry knew he was a goner. He ran for his life past the big white dog, hoping to get home before it could catch him. The big white dog ran after him, right on his heels, panting. Luckily
, the dog’s wild red eyes seemed to light the track so Uncle Henry did not stumble as he ran. Uncle Henry veered off the tracks when he got near home and ran through his neighbors’ yards until he reached his own house. He didn’t hear the dog chasing him anymore, and he collapsed on the front porch to try to catch his breath.
Aunt Jenny heard him fall onto the porch and came out with the lantern from the kitchen. When she saw him lying on the floorboards, she ran inside and brought him a dipper of well water. Uncle Henry drank it in one gulp and sat up. He drank two more dippers before he was ready to tell Aunt Jenny about the white dog chasing him all the way home.
When he finished his story, Aunt Jenny shook her head. “Uncle Henry, you’re the strangest fellow I ever knew,” she laughed at him. “That weren’t an evil spirit, that was one of your friends come back from the grave to escort you home safely ’cause you stayed too long at that ball game.”
Uncle Henry shook his head stubbornly. “Only reason I’m here is that I ran faster than that dog,” he said.
He let Aunt Jenny pull him up, and she sat him down to a nice supper of collard greens, meat, and cracklin’ bread.
The next morning, their next-door neighbor Jonathan stopped by to tell Uncle Henry and Aunt Jenny the latest news. The sheriff had caught two robbers lurking near the railroad tracks after the ball game.
“According to the sheriff,” Jonathan said, “he’s been trying to catch those thieves for a long while. They’re always lurking near the tracks on ball game nights, waiting to rob people walking home from games. Sheriff says they’re the ones that killed that fellow after the game last month. Lucky for everyone, the robbers were scared off by a big white dog near the train station last night, and the sheriff caught ’em.”
“A white dog, did you say?” asked Aunt Jenny, glancing over at Uncle Henry, who had turned pale when he heard Jonathan’s news.
Spooky South Page 3
