Eleven New Ghost Stories

by David Paul Nixon

  His father might not have believed him in full, if it were not for his mention of the vicar, for whom his father shared a similar enmity. This swayed him to Benjamin’s side. When they went home that night, Benjamin waited in the kitchen while his father calmed his mother and seemed to rectify the situation. Benjamin was sent to bed with only an apple and some stale bread for his dinner, but at least he was spared another beating.

  The next day was a Saturday and Benjamin could not wait for his chance to see if the boy in the well was right about Penelope’s stealing too. He awoke especially early and snuck out to go down to Mr Wittle’s shop and wait for her, though he knew not when she would actually appear.

  He loitered outside the bakery next door, until he was chased off by the baker. He then stood waiting across the road in front of the post office for his quarry to arrive. He waited a long time before Penelope finally came skipping along, happy as pie. Benjamin watched as she went into the bakers before finally going into Mr Wittle’s shop, right into his trap.

  He went swiftly across the road and peered through the shop window. Penelope was reading her shopping list to old Wittle and he was showing her where the right wares were, or retrieving them himself for her.

  Benjamin snuck himself into the shop quietly, not wishing for Penelope or Wittle to see him. He hid behind the end of some shelves waiting for his chance. Wittle rang up Penelope’s bill and she calculated how much change she would have from the money her mother had given her. When she worked out how money sweets she could have, she asked Wittle for some sweets so conveniently placed on a high shelf. The shopkeeper reached for his stool, stood on it and reached up to the jar.

  It was at that moment that Benjamin saw it; he saw Penelope silently lift a bar of chocolate from in front of the till and slide it behind her coat buttons into her inside pocket.

  Benjamin leapt into action, screaming “Thief, thief!”

  Penelope screamed at him, denying it. But she was caught red-handed…

  Mr Wittle was horrified. Who would’ve thought it? Good little Penelope Lucinda Revile, stealing from him. He sent Benjamin to fetch her mother – stealing was a very serious crime. With his nemesis crying, Benjamin skipped to her home positively triumphant. Penelope’s mother didn’t believe him, but when she arrived at the shop, she had no choice but to accept her little angel was not so angelic.

  Benjamin watched with satisfaction as his goody-two-shoes enemy was dragged away. He had won an important victory, and what’s more, he had found a new friend. A very special friend…

  So excited was he of his victory over Penelope he ran straight back to the well, to thank the mysterious boy: “It worked, it worked!” Benjamin cried.

  “I knew it would,” said the boy in the well. “No one is going to look at her in the same way again. Her disguise has been uncovered; she was not what she seemed.”

  “No, she’s horrible and I hate her and she got what she deserved.”

  “Yes Benjamin, many people are not what they seem. They hide behind disguises and pretend to be what they’re not. But we’ll uncover those disguises won’t we? Show the world what those people are really like”.

  Benjamin was so excited, but the boy told him he must run on home because his mother was looking for him. Benjamin asked the boy in the well how he could see beyond his home, but the boy said it was a secret he couldn’t tell him yet. But soon he would. Soon he would show him the world inside the well…

  In the meantime, Benjamin still had more scores to settle, and the boy promised he would help him to settle them. After horrid Penelope, the next on the list was Miss Bones, his horrid teacher. The boy had an idea how he could get his own back on her too, and Benjamin positively couldn’t wait to put the plan in action.

  It was but a few days after he had caught out Penelope that he put in practice the boy’s new plan. It was on a rainy Wednesday afternoon that Miss Claxton was doing multiplication revision – barking sums at her assembled pupils, insistent that they must deliver the answer back to her almost instantaneously, or receive a ruler strike across the knuckles. That very afternoon, we know that a boy named Richard Price, a mere boy of seven, had his hand turned red from the merciless teacher – she did not alter the punishment, regardless of age.

  Fortunately, Benjamin had a good memory, and like most of the class, he knew his tables well to avoid any punishment. Benjamin was fortunate that day that the rain was falling, otherwise he might not have been able to see Miss Bones get what she deserved. Because of the weather, they would not have to eat their sandwiches outside, or cross to the church hall. They sat indoors, eating their lunches quietly, permitted only to play the quietest, calmest of games.

  As Benjamin opened up his lunch, he did not take his eyes off of his teacher, waiting impatiently as she fiddled around her desk, adjusted her hair, tidied away some of her papers…

  Finally, she reached for her bottom drawer and lifted out the tin box where she kept her own lunch. Benjamin raised his head, gripping the desk in his palms with anticipation.

  She opened the box distractedly, and placed her hand inside. But almost instantly, afterward, she withdrew it, and then her jaw dropped open. She stood up abruptly, scraping her chair against the floor behind her. She started to scream and gasp for air simultaneously, warming up for an almighty screech, one that raised goose bumps on all the children’s skin.

  She tried to climb out of the window behind her; she started to scratch at the glass, screaming “Get away, get away.” She kicked at the desk from her place on the window’s ledge, knocking it over. And then the children saw what she so afraid of: the lunchbox slid across the floor, and from its inside hopped a great big toad!

  The girls in the glass screamed, scattering the desks and chairs as they ran away from the creature. Of course the boys were not afraid – they thought it was so comical. Still, none of them wished to take hold of the toad and they had to send for the caretaker to remove the slippery creature.

  Benjamin tried not to get involved, but he must’ve struggled to hold in his glee. Her reaction was better than he could’ve possibly hoped for. He thought that Miss Bones wouldn’t like finding a toad in her lunch box very much, but her absolute terror was something he could not have predicted.

  But the boy in the well had told him so, said that she had been terrified of toads and frogs and lizards ever since a frog had jumped into her pram as a child and hid beneath the blankets. It had taken Benjamin two days to find one near the river, and it was no easy task to catch and keep hold of him once he had found him.

  He relayed his delight to the boy in the well that very evening. “You should’ve seen her face!” he said.

  “I heard her scream,” said the boy. “I think half the valley did.”

  “How did you know about her fear of toads?” he asked.

  “I told you, I can see all kinds of things from down here. See all and know all. It’s amazing what you can see in the dark. There are no limits, or walls.”

  “Can you teach me? I want to see in the dark.”

  “One day Benjamin, one day. You must be patient; there is still much work to be done.”

  “But we got Miss Bones and we got Penelope – they really got it.”

  “What about your worst enemy? What about the vicar?”

  Suddenly Benjamin was quiet. Getting his own back on Penelope and his teacher was one thing, but the vicar, he was something else entirely.

  “I said I’d help you to get revenge on all those that had done you wrong. And he’s the worst isn’t he? The nastiest and meanest of them all.”

  “But what if he catches me?” cried little Benjamin. “He’ll thrash me, beat me.”

  “Brave heart, dear Benjamin. You needn’t worry about the vicar. In fact, he’s the easiest of them all. All it will take is a letter.”

  “A letter?” said Benjamin, surprised.

  “Yes, just a short simple letter. Have you got your school things with you my friend? A pencil an
d paper?”

  Benjamin reached into his satchel and pulled out some paper and a pencil.

  “Write this down for me,” said the boy. “It’s all you need to get your revenge on your uncle.

  All you have to write is, ‘I know what you did’.”

  Benjamin scribbled it down.

  He looked at the words and then he looked at the well.

  “Is that it?”

  “Trust me my good chum. That’s all you need to write. Everyone has secrets, the vicar more than most.”

  Though he trusted his new friend, Benjamin still felt nervous and unsure.

  “I was right about Miss Claxton and Penelope Green wasn’t I?”

  Benjamin nodded.

  “Then trust me again on this. Just write these words down, put them in an envelope and drop it off at his cottage. Then all you have to do is watch what happens.”

  Benjamin didn’t understand what the boy expected to happen, but he did what he was told, trusting that his new friend knew what he was doing. He took an envelope from his father’s desk and wrote down the message on a sheet of writing paper. He sealed the envelope and took it to the vicar’s house early the next morning, being as careful as possible not to be spotted on the way there or back, should the vicar later enquire if anyone had been seen going up the path to his cottage. He posted the letter, feeling not too confident that it would produce the effect he desired.

  As it turned out, he did not have to wait for long for the effect of the letter to be felt. That very afternoon, he returned home from playing down near the stream when he noticed the vicar’s bicycle leant up against the wall by the front door.

  Benjamin was canny – he knew that if he were to announce his return, he might well miss what the fuss was. He instead crept inside, and sure enough, heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. Instead of going straight there from the hall, he crept around into the living room and into the dining room, where he could listen without being seen.

  His mother sounded distraught; “Someone could just be playing games with you!”

  “It’s blackmail, pure and simple,” said the vicar. “You swore you would say nothing to anyone.”

  “I have told no one. Why would I want anyone to know such shameful things?”

  “It was a long time ago. I was possessed of some evil. I was a different man, lost and confused.”

  “So I’ve heard you say, so many times. But it never goes away, does it?” Benjamin’s mother started to cry, but rebuffed any attempt by her brother to comfort her. “Putting on a collar and preaching the Lord doesn’t make it go away!” she shouted at him.

  “Why shouldn’t it?” he cried. “I have given him my repentance; dedicated my heart and soul to the church, I have done everything I can.”

  “But what you did after…”

  “It was the right thing to do. Nothing good could have come of it, you know that.”

  “Benjamin!” his mother cried.

  He had leant too far into the doorway to listen and had been spotted. Both of them marched towards him; he backed away into the dining room.

  “Eavesdropping now,” snapped the vicar. “Another sin to add to your growing collection!”

  “How long have you been there?” said his mother, shaking fearfully.

  “I only just got home,” said a frightened Benjamin.

  “You’ve gone too far this time boy…”

  “Albie, don’t!”

  The vicar charged towards him and Benjamin ran.

  “What did you hear?” the vicar demanded, knocking his way through the dining room furniture to pursue him.

  Benjamin went through the sitting room into the hall, the vicar just inches from catching him, when they both stopped all of a sudden. The front door hung open and there stood Benjamin’s father watching them. His face stern and serious: “By thunder, what is going on here?”

  The vicar took a step back and tried to compose himself. “We were just playing a game,” he lied feebly.

  “Doesn’t look like any game I know,” Benjamin’s father said slowly. “I had no idea you and my son were such firm friends.”

  “Water under the bridge,” said the vicar. “Like God, I always prefer to be forgiving.”

  After an aching silence, the vicar said: “Yes, well, I only stopped by briefly.”

  “All your visits seem to be brief,” said Mr Morris. “It’s funny, every time I see you, you always seem to be on your way out.”

  “Well I’m a busy man, the parish does not run itself. But perhaps sometime soon you could come around for supper. I feel that we hardly get a chance to talk you and I.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Let me show you out, Albie,” said Benjamin’s mother.

  “No need Emily,” said Mr Morris. “I think he probably knows the way by now.”

  Emily passed the vicar his hat. He snatched it from her and walked swiftly to the door.

  “You’re home early,” Mrs Morris hissed.

  “Young Harry can round up the sheep by now I think. I’ve taught him well enough... I think you should go to your room Benjamin. Me and your mother, we need to talk.”

  This was not what Benjamin had expected at all. For hours and hours his parents seemed to argue. Benjamin tried his best to listen, but he could not make out much, except that his father seemed to think his mother was keeping something from him. It was the first time Benjamin thought his father seemed more angry than his mother. It ended, as it often did, with his father slamming the door and going to the pub. Sometime later his mother shouted for him; he went downstairs to eat a cold, miserable supper she had left for him. She was outside, sat crying beneath the old apple tree in the garden.

  No, this had not been what he had expected at all, and the next day, when he visited his friend in the well, he expressed his displeasure.

  “It was supposed to upset the vicar,” he cried. “Now my mum is throwing tantrums again. My dad is furious, he doesn’t want to even calm her down.”

  “Secrets are dangerous things, Benjamin,” said the boy. “If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be secrets now would they?”

  “You knew that was going to happen didn’t you?” said Benjamin angrily. “You knew he was going to come over and upset Mum!”

  “Benjamin! How could you say that! I thought we were friends you and I? I didn’t do this for me, you know. I was trying to help you get your own back on the vicar, but if you don’t need my help...”

  “No, no, I do,” Benjamin said quickly. “I was just sad to see her upset.”

  “She doesn’t mind upsetting you though, does she? The day you first came up here, she struck you after you had been told off by the vicar. I’m surprised you don’t want to get your own back on her as well.”

  “I don’t want to get my own back on her,” Benjamin said, almost in tears. “I just want her to be normal. To be happy, so me and Dad can be happy too.”

  “Then you must trust me Benjamin,” the boy snapped. “Once this secret is out in the open, the vicar won’t be interfering anymore. You’ve said that he causes the arguments, causes the trouble. Once he’s gone, everyone will be happier.”

  “I suppose so. But what is their secret? What was all the shouting about?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “But why can’t you tell me now!” Benjamin pleaded.

  “I’ve done so much for you Benjamin,” said the boy, raising his voice. “I’m upset that you’re so ungrateful.”

  “I’m not ungrateful; I just want to know what it is.”

  “I only have my suspicions,” snapped the boy. “I don’t know everything! The only way to find out a secret for sure is for those who keep it to tell the truth.”

  “But what about my mum?” the young boy pleaded.

  “Don’t you think that a lie, a secret, is a heavy burden to bear? That your mother might be relieved, grateful even, to be unburdened from it? Have you not been taught about these things at school?”


  “I don’t know,” Benjamin pouted.

  “Of course you don’t. You haven’t thought this through. You need to be strong, Benjamin. I can only help you so much. Trust me my friend, when we are done, all will be uncovered. And you won’t have to worry about your mother, the vicar, or anyone else tormenting you ever again.

  Can you be strong for me Benjamin?”

  Benjamin wasn’t sure; the boy from the well had always helped him before, but now he was scaring him too. After a moment, he just said yes so that he would not be shouted at again.

  “Then we have work to do. What I’m going to ask you to do next may sound a little strange. But it will be the icing on the cake!”

  With hesitance, Benjamin listened as the boy in the well told him the next stage of his plan – he wanted Benjamin to go to the grocer’s and purchase a birthday card.

  “A birthday card?”

  “Yes, a birthday card. It’s quite simple. You can spare some of your pocket money for a birthday card can’t you?”

  “Yes… I think so.”

  “Good! The timing must be so precise for this to work. It should be a child’s birthday card. Something you might like. Then you must deliver it to your mother on this coming Saturday.”

  “But I thought we were out to get the vicar…

  “I told you to trust me!” yelled the voice, showing its impatience. “Once she has the card, she will give it to the vicar.”

  “But why don’t I just give it to him then?”

  “Because he’ll be on the look-out at his home for any new messages! Why all these questions? Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

  “You did upset my mother.”

  “Only as a means to an end. But if you don’t want my help, then fine. Just go home as normal, go back to your life as it was with foul Penelope, horrible Miss Bones and enjoy your beatings from the vicar. That’s if you don’t need my help.”