What Happened to Anna?

by Jennifer Robins

  “We have to get out of here!” he shouted. He hurried back to the living room and grabbed Andrea by the hand. “Come on, I’ll try a window.”

  They raced to the dining room. He went to the window and pushed up on it, but it would not open. He began to strike at it with his fist. Scared out of her wits, Andrea shouted, “Don’t, John! Please, stop.”

  He grabbed a brass candleholder from the table and held it high, then brought it down hard on the windowpane. Glass shattered and went everywhere. He pulled the remaining shards from the wooden frame.

  From out of nowhere a voice rang out, calling eerily. “Andreaaaa.”

  John didn’t hear it. His only thought was to get them out of the house as quickly as possible. Andrea stood shaking and frightened, watching him hammer away at the window. He never once looked over at her.

  The ghostly female voice called out once again. Andrea pushed John away from the window and held her finger to her lips. He stepped back and paused to listen.

  “Andreaaa.”

  His jaw dropped, his eyes grew wide. The two of them stood, hopelessly paralyzed as the voice broke out into sobs and whimpers that could be heard throughout the house. At last John had heard the crying. Now he’d know it wasn’t just her imagination. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

  Gradually, the cold diminished, the frost disappeared, and it became warm again. Andrea pulled at John’s hand. “Come upstairs with me,” she said in a soft voice.

  A floorboard creaked as they went upstairs, giving John a jolt, but they continued on. The crying stopped suddenly as they reached the top of the staircase. John’s hands now trembled.

  They went slowly down the hallway to the bedroom. John closed the door behind him as soon as they entered the room. He walked to the open window and sat in the chair next to it. He put his head down.

  The closet door also stood open. Andrea noticed the top of the wooden box had tilted open. She went to investigate, and drew a deep breath when she saw the photograph was gone again. Where is it now?

  Afraid to say anything to John, she went to the bed to sit down. The photograph lay there, face up on her pillow. Andrea picked it up, not sure whether to feel glad or afraid. She looked at John, expecting him to say something nasty.

  He approached the bed with eyes zeroed in on the photograph. In a rage, he grabbed it from her. Viciously he tore at the old picture and didn’t stop when he heard Andrea shout, “No!”

  In a terrible frenzy, he destroyed the photograph and threw it in the wastebasket. “I’ve had enough of this! Ever since you found that thing, there’s been nothing but weird happenings around here.” He waved his fists in the air. “We are going to move out of this house!”

  Andrea threw herself on the pillows and began to cry. John paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. After several minutes, he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. He extended his hand to touch her shoulder. “Stop crying, Andrea,” he said in a much softer voice. “I’m sorry for getting so angry, but I just can’t take this anymore. We have to do something. Come on, babe, talk to me.”

  Andrea sat up and looked him straight in the eye. “Talk to you? What’s the use? All you do is yell at me and talk about moving. What good did it do for you to tear up that photograph? Did you think it would end all of this?”

  “I don’t know what I thought. All this cold and frost in the house, a woman crying, and now a voice calling out your name. It’s just too much. All I can say is…I’m sorry.”

  The dark night brought a concert of crickets outside. John’s thoughts were only on Andrea and how to get her to agree to leave that house. Andrea, on the other hand, could only think about Anna, and what she could do to convince him to give up the idea of moving.

  Chapter Ten

  The crack of dawn found Andrea still wide awake. She lay in bed, mulling over a colorful dream she’d been having just before the cold had woken her. It had taken her back in time to the 1800s. She’d worn a long, formal gown and danced in a large ballroom with an exciting man. Even though the dream remained a little hazy, she could remember circling around the dance floor to a waltz. Sparkling lights from the ceiling chandeliers illuminated the room. The music had been so beautiful, and Andrea could recall how good it had made her feel. Just the thought relaxed her enough to make her sleepy, but the alarm would be going off soon. John had told her he wanted to leave early, so he could come back home around noon.

  John had only slept a short time — two hours. He also woke before the alarm went off. “I’m not going to the office today,” he announced. His gaze traveled to hers, a deep frown on his face. “I can’t even think of leaving you here alone.”

  They lay close to one another, John with his arm around her. When the alarm did finally ring, they both jumped as though shocked. Andrea rose from the bed, put her robe and slippers on, then hurried down to the kitchen, leaving John lying there staring at the ceiling. She knew he feared more would happen just by the look on his face, and that he’d decided to stay home surprised her. It wasn’t like John to miss any days at work. He never let anything stand in the way of his business.

  Andrea filled the coffee pot and set it up to brew, then went to the table to sit down. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them while she waited. John came down to the kitchen. “Are there any boxes out in the shed?” he asked. “I need some cardboard to cover that broken window in the dining room.”

  With tear-filled eyes, she told him, “Yes, there are some out there that I saved from our move.”

  John went out the back door. She watched him disappear around the side of the house. In a few minutes he returned, carrying two boxes. He took a pair of scissors and some tape from the kitchen counter and went straight to the dining room.

  In an attempt for something normal, Andrea called out to him, “Are you hungry?” She walked to the refrigerator and opened it, waiting for his answer, but no reply came. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand. She could hear him cutting boxes, but he said nothing. “I hope you can hear me, John. I want you to go to the cemetery with me today. I would like to go right after we have something to eat.”

  “I’ll have to call my office and let the girls know I won’t be in today. They can cancel my appointments.” Disgust soured his voice. “Go ahead and make something for me.”

  “I secured the windows with the cardboard from those boxes,” he told her as he entered the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Andrea set his plate of eggs and toast down in front of him, then sat opposite him with her cup in hand.

  She’d never seen John so upset. He could hardly eat his breakfast — he put his fork down several times. Finally, he looked over at her. “Listen, Andrea, I want us to go on with our lives, do the things we planned. We talked about adopting a child. This is a wonderful place to raise a child, but now… I don’t know.”

  Before he could say another word, Andrea spoke up. “I want those things too, especially a baby. That’s why we can’t let anything like this spoil it for us. I want this house. I love it here. I believe there’s a way to put an end to all of this. Then we can stay here and do all of the things we planned. Why move and let whatever it is win? I’m not ready for that.”

  She paused a moment, and then continued. “I think we can solve this problem when we find out why Anna’s ghost is here. Please try and understand.”

  John said nothing. He went to the phone and called his office. Andrea went upstairs to dress. As she walked to the bedroom, she thought about the photograph. Going to the waste basket, she took the torn pieces out of it, held them up in her hand for a moment, then spread her fingers apart and let the pieces fall back into the basket. She felt so badly about it being destroyed that way. She shuddered remembering how viciously John had torn it up — almost barbaric.

  She had dressed and made the bed by the time John came upstairs. Now that he had called his office and taken care of business, the
y could leave. Andrea was happy John would be going with her to the old cemetery.

  It was nine-thirty, and the morning sun shone brightly. Andrea took a map with them. Using a highlighter, she marked the roads they would take and showed them to John. Although somewhat familiar with the main roads, he told her to keep the map handy.

  The drive seemed exceptionally long. “Did it take you this long when you came out here?” he asked.

  She only nodded and continued with her instructions. Summer had brought out the beauty of the countryside around them. Trees all in bloom, green grass, and the wonderful smell of the foliage’s new growth gave everything an exhilarating look of rebirth.

  They approached a sign for Route Fourteen, where they would turn off. “This is crazy,” John said, slapping the steering wheel. “We shouldn’t even be doing this. I should have my head examined.”

  Some miles ahead the road became bumpy as they came upon an area of fields and trees.

  “There it is, John!” she said with excitement.

  He pulled the car up to the gate and looked around in surprise. “I thought you were exaggerating about this place. It sure is a mess. I don’t know if I want to drive the car in any further. Who knows what’s under all this mess?”

  “I drove in without any trouble,” she assured him. “Just go ahead. You can go in a little further.”

  John inched forward about five feet past the gate. He couldn’t believe how run down the grounds were. “Maybe no one cares about it anymore because it’s so old, and it’s way out here in no-man’s land. Who would come out here, anyway?” He got out of the car and kicked a large branch away from the door. “How did you ever get through all of this? It looks like a jungle.”

  “It wasn’t easy. Let’s go.”

  She went ahead to show him the way. He followed her with reluctance. “You know this is crazy, Andrea. What will this prove?”

  “I think it has a lot to do with everything,” she said as she looked back over her shoulder.

  Andrea located Anna’s grave with little trouble. As they moved toward it, her heart beat with excitement. “There it is, John, back there. See that small stone? It’s barely above the high grass.” She pointed toward rear of the cemetery. Then she took John’s hand as she led him through the overgrown weeds.

  They stood over the lonely grave. John bent down and pulled the grass away from the front of the stone. The inscription read MY BELOVED WIFE, ANNA MARIE DICKENS. Under the large carved letters were her birth and death dates. Andrea hadn’t seen those when she’d been there before. November 8, 1859-August 4, 1888.

  November eighth? Anna’s birth date was the same as her own! Another link between her and this mysterious woman.

  John gazed down at it, a stunned look on his face. In a serious tone he said, “This is very strange. I don’t like it — too many unexplainable things. We really should consider moving out of the house.” He turned away from her and started stroking the sides of his head nervously.

  Andrea continued staring at the inscription while thinking of what had happened. She didn’t want to listen to John about moving, but she didn’t want to argue with him about it either. She knew without a doubt there had to be a connection between her and Anna. All of the facts pointed in that direction.

  “Let’s get out of here. Right now, Andrea!” John grabbed her hand, practically dragging her to the car. Despite her efforts to keep up with him, they almost fell as he pulled her along.

  On the way home, the two of them remained quiet as John drove along the back roads to the highway. Finally, when they got on the main throughway, he broke the silence. “I hope you’re going to be sensible about this. I don’t think we have any choice but to sell the house and move out of there. I don’t want to live in a house that’s haunted.”

  She grinned. For the first time, John had acknowledged the ghost in the house. A good thing, she thought. At least now maybe she could talk to him more openly about what was going on and make him understand it. Finding the reason for the ghost’s presence could help them to move on. She truly believed that.

  She took her chance. “I’ve heard of people who can get rid of ghosts. There are ways, you know. There is so much we can learn about it, and maybe even do something ourselves. I know what I’m talking about, John. Remember when I read all those books about psychics and ghosts hunters?”

  “Oh, no! I don’t believe in those kinds of people. They’ll only take our money and do nothing. Don’t even think of it.”

  She should have known she wouldn’t convince him so easily. She pleaded with him, asking him once again to give her a little more time to find out more about Anna and why her spirit had stayed in the house. “She’s earthbound for a reason, John. I think she wants to tell us something. Maybe if we find out what happened to her, she will move on.” She truly believed finding the reason behind it all could help Anna to be at peace.

  He listened without interruption — partly because he didn’t know how to handle her wild speculations, and partly because he’d become more interested in what she had to say. He was no fool. He had witnessed enough to know something was there that he couldn’t explain away.

  “I know you like the house, John, and you can’t tell me you wouldn’t stay there if this whole thing could be changed. Wouldn’t you stay there if we could get rid of all of this?” He didn’t answer her. He just shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes on the road. “Look at all the people who lived in the house over the past hundred years, and nothing happened to them—nothing happened until now. That has to prove something.”

  John pulled to the side of the road to check the map. His thoughts were so taken up with what Andrea had said to him, he was afraid he’d made a wrong turn after they’d left the highway. After checking the map, they went on. “How do you know what happened in the house during those years?” he asked.

  “From my research. So many families lived in the house for long periods of time,” she said. “I don’t think they would have stayed if they’d experienced anything like what we have. Don’t you think that tells you something?” He just shook his head. “Well, don’t you think so, John?”

  “All right, Andrea. Maybe you’re right, but what do you think we can do about it? Go ahead. “ He tapped his fingers on the top of the steering wheel. “You don’t have an answer, do you? That only proves we need to move out of that house.”

  “We need to find out more about Anna and her family. What happened to all of them? It’s like a mystery just waiting to be solved, and we could be the ones to do it.”

  They were now on their street, and John pulled into the driveway. “It’s noon already, and I’m kind of hungry. How about some food?” he asked her with an attempt at a smile.

  “All right, I’ll make something for lunch. Let’s get inside.” While Andrea went into the kitchen, John settled in his recliner. He was tired from the long drive after their difficult night. As they ate, they discussed the issue. She tried to convince him to help her investigate the situation further, bringing up the fact that no one had ever seen Anna’s body when she’d supposedly died. “I really think it’s important to find out if she’s buried there or not. From what Marie told me, I have to wonder if Anna’s body rests in the grave.”

  John remained calm for a moment as he listened. “How do you expect to find that out?” He glared at her while he waited for the inevitable answer.

  She stood and started clearing the table. In a subtle voice, she said, “We could do it.” While she had him captive, she kept on. “I know we can’t get that grave dug up legally, but…” She hesitated several moments to make sure he wouldn’t interrupt her. “But, we could dig it up ourselves — you and me, John.”

  His hands were in the air, waving, but she went on before he could say a word. “We could go to the cemetery in the night when it’s dark, and no one would see us. You know, when there are no people driving by who would see the car. With flashlights and maybe some lanterns and tools…”<
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  That did it. “No, you don’t, Andrea!” he yelled. “We are not going there in the middle of the night, or any other time, to dig up that grave. I don’t want to go there again for any reason!” That said, John left the kitchen and went out to the patio.

  Andrea set the dishes in the sink, then followed him. She started right in again. “The only way we will ever know if she’s buried there is to open her grave and look. Maybe it sounds crazy to you, but I know down deep inside it’s something we need to do. We need to know if she is there.”

  John had become quiet. He got up and paced back and forth on the patio. Knowing the limits to which she could push him, Andrea stopped talking and went back into the house. She’d be prepared to bring it up again when the time was right.

  John stayed outside and worked in the yard all afternoon. Although he kept himself busy trimming shrubs and bushes, he couldn’t stop thinking about Andrea’s idea. Just the thought of doing something like that was far beyond his realm of reasoning, yet it had some intriguing merit to it… enough to keep him thinking about it. He shook his head and moved on to weed the flowerbed. It seemed like the better thing to do, rather than face another confrontation with his wife.

  After several hours, he came inside and found Andrea in the living room trying to read a magazine. “Have you come to your senses yet? Will we move before something else happens — maybe something worse?”

  Without responding, she got up. She left the room and went to prepare dinner. He followed her, knowing how angry she was with him. “All right then, go make dinner. There doesn’t seem to be any way of getting through to you. You want to wait until some other horrible thing happens.”

  After dinner, they went to the living room. Neither of them spoke. They sat in front of the television without concentrating on what was on. Before long, John got up and went upstairs.