by Lewis Stanek
“That's just it,” Bridget continued, “the Baroness Theadora boarded up the place because she said it was haunted.”
“Is that it then?” Randal asked, hoping there was more to the story.
“Well, that's what they said, but when we got near the castle one of the men pointed it out to me. The castle isn't far from the riverbank really. It was getting dark at the time, but I wanted a good view of the house. It really is more of a mansion than it is a castle. I don't know why they call it a castle anyway, Vanity I suppose.” Randal nodded to her comment hoping she would continue with something a little more interesting.
“In any case, there I am leaning over the edge of the barge straining my eyes trying see what I could see of the castle in the darkening skies, and there it was a shadow of a woman, or a man hurrying across the grounds towards the house. Then the next thing I knew there was a light in the window on the second or third floor shining out from between the shutters.”
“There was someone or something inside place, that has to be what you saw” Ozzie said, skeptically.
“I knew then I wanted to go inside and explore, but the barge wasn't about to stop and let me break into some old abandoned house. I decided right then that I would be coming back on my own if I had to, to get a closer look at the castle.” Bridget continued.
“That is why you are here now?”
“That is the theme of my vacation this year anyway. Why are you here?”
“I'm just on a walking tour, there are some things I need to work out for myself. I thought this would be a good way to do it.”
“What about you Ozzie?”
“I'm here for fun and adventure. So what do you two think, should we go hunting this castle down? If we can get in it would be a lot less expensive than eighteen euros a night.”
“We'd need to bring our own food though. I don't think there will be power or water to the house either. It could be pretty rustic.”
“And who knows what animals may have taken residence in there.” Bridget added.
“Squirrels probably, maybe some raccoons, who knows.” Ozzie replied.
“Bats.”
“What?”
“I said bats, I bet there are bats in the castle. I bet the place is filled with bat shit all over the place.”
“Why would you say such a thing, Randy?”
“ Just seems natural, an old abandoned house and bats the two go together.” He replied.
“If we are going to do this, I would prefer if we get there during daylight, so we have a little time to clean up a place for ourselves to sleep and do a little exploring before it gets dark.” Bridget advised.
“We should do what we can to get some supplies for the night too before we go.” Randal stated flatly, rapidly losing the desire to go along on this trip. He gulped down the last of his coffee, cold and bitter the last dregs of the urn and left his cup in the gray dishpan with the other breakfast dishes and such. For some reason he wanted to get out of there and away from his new friends.
“I bet you two will have a great time at the castle tonight telling each other ghost stories and roasting marshmallows and making smores and stuff.”
“What aren't you interested in going? You're the one who told me about this in the first place.” Ozzie exclaimed.
“I just asked if you heard about it, I never said I wanted to go and break into the place. We could end up in jail for breaking and entering.”
“Some soldier you are, afraid of an old abandoned house no less. Look at it this way Randal, there is no harm done just going over and taking a look at the place is there?”
“No I guess not, but….”
“Do you have anywhere else to go?”
“No, but that is not the point.”
“The point is Randal, we have the opportunity for a little adventure. An opportunity that may never come our way again. We may find out for ourselves if there really is such a thing as life after death.”
“Fine” Randal said, giving in to Ozzie. How could he tell them he had enough adventure for a lifetime and seen enough death not to question it's permanence and only wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, to walk off the effects of the war from his life if he could. Life after death though, that could be a concept worth investigating. He wondered.
“Okay, if we are going to do this we need to come up with a plan of action.” Randal offered.
“Ghost hunting sounds great to me, I've seen all the shows.” Bridget brightened at the prospect. “We need digital cameras, infrared cameras, recording devices, energy sensors flashlights, and plenty of batteries.” she continued.
“What about access? Do you think there is some way we can get permission to go inside, instead of just planning on breaking in? I really don't want to spend any time in a Dutch prison if I can help it.” Ozzie glanced over to the registration desk. He waved at Igor, or Boris or whatever Ozzie is calling him today.
“Oh concierge.” Ozzie called to the old man who looked nothing like the butler from the Rocky Horror Picture Show in the morning light. Bridget and Randal followed Ozzie to the desk.
“Can I do something for you young people ?” The concierge asked.
“Sir, we were talking earlier amongst ourself about ghosts and hauntings and such. My friend Randal here told me a tale of a haunted castle that is nearby. Do you know anything about it?”
“Young man, everyone over who lives in town knows about the Castle.”
“Does anyone live there? I mean who takes care of the place?” Bridget asked.
“No one has lived in the Castle for almost seventy years. Come a little closer and I'll tell you what I know.” he whispered for effect more than anything else. We gathered around the desk like children around a campfire waiting to here the next ghost story told by a master story teller.
“Castle Reuversweerd was built in the year 1830 in the Empire style.” The old man began. “It is a mansion really, but when the baron bought it he began to call it his castle, and then Castle Reuversweerd since it is so close to the river. Castle Reuversweerd has stood along the banks of the river Weerd for over one hundred and eighty years. One might say it has stood the test of time, even though it has stood vacant and abandoned for almost seventy years it still stands stout and firm with no indication that it intends to collapse.” The old man reached into a drawer and brought a black and white photograph and laid it on the desktop. “That is the castle, at least that is how it was in 1945.”The photograph must have been taken from a boat because you could see the riverbank in front of the grounds then the lawn and garden stretching before the castle. It was a striking building in stark contrast to the pristine grounds and garden, a structure demanding one's attention.
“The Baron had hoped to raise horses intending to increase his family's fortune, I know this because I worked at his stables for a time when I was young. I was a strong man then and hard work was nothing new to me. He hired me on the spot, the day I applied for the job. I enjoyed the work, but when the SS came and occupied the castle things changed. The Baron and his wife were allowed to stay on the property in one of the servant's rooms on the third floor, but the rest of us were told to leave. Not that anyone wanted to stay with the Nazis in charge. “ He took a long glance at the black and white photograph of the estate and gently placed it back in the drawer.
“The baron wasn't going to get the chance to make his stud farm a success. All the baron's staff were dismissed. The lucky ones were fired, the others were sent to the labor camps never to be seen again. The baron and baroness were allowed to stay but they had to do the work of the servants. They made the Baron the grounds-keeper, and the Baroness a maid. As for the livestock, the Nazis had all the horses killed and butchered and the meat sent to the front lines for the soldiers” The concierge appeared to visibly age with the memory of it all.
“The war was nearing its end. The allies had invaded Europe and were forcing the Germans out of the countries they occupied. It was only a ma
tter of time until the Allies would be in Holland. When the time was right, the Canadian army attacked the castle with overpowering force. The Nazi's managed to fight the Canadians off for a time. The Nazis had time enough to accuse the baron of spying for the allies. The commandant claimed the Baron communicated vital information to the Canadians. Who knows, perhaps through the underground, he did. They executed him by firing squad the same day, no need for a trial. Accusation then execution, the Germans are nothing if they are not efficient.”
“ It wasn't too long before the Castle was liberated. The allied soldiers searched the castle and took whatever the Nazi's left behind that provided what thought may have been valuable intelligence to the Allies. The Canadians didn't take up residence, they took what they wanted then followed the German's retreat. After a few days, when the battle was over and the soldiers were gone I went back to the castle and offered the baroness my help. With the help of some of the other old farm hands who had worked for them we found and recovered the Baron's body. I remember two of us carried it back to the castle wrapped in canvas. The Baroness prepared her husband's body while I prepared the family crypt.”
“Damn” Ozzie exclaimed “You old folks went through a lot.” Was this the first Ozzie heard of war, or just the first time he heard someone share their personal account of what happened to them during the war, Randal wondered.
Ignoring Ozzie's comment the old man continued. “There wasn't a funeral service, no priest came to say the rights of passage from one world to the next. The baroness Theadora stood alone and observed as I laid the baron's body on the slab reserved for him. She didn't shed a tear, she didn't say a word of farewell, she only stood there watching what I was doing and waited. I folded his arms to have his hands meet on his chest as if he was praying. After a few moments she ordered me to close the crypt and that was that. After that, she ordered the place be boarded up and closed the castle.”
“So the castle isn't haunted?” Randal asked.
“Haunted? Perhaps, there are memories there, that is certain.” he replied and then continued his story. It was as if he had been carrying this burden within himself for many years and now that he had the chance to lay it down, he was going to lay it down completely.
“The baroness hired me to board it up after that, forbidding anyone to enter the castle for as long as she lived. Some people believed this was an act of extreme grief, but others, townsfolk mostly from the lower classes thought they knew otherwise. They are the ones that started the rumors that the castle is haunted. I continued to work for the baroness. I took care of the grounds of the estate while I was able. I did my best to make sure the castle wasn't vandalized. I assisted her anyway I was able. She passed away a few years back. She even remembered me in her will, that is the kind of woman the baroness was. She treated everyone with respect. She left me the money I used to start this place, Theadora's Hostel I call it in her memory.”
“We were thinking,” Ozzie started then paused for an uneasy moment when the concierge looked him in the eye. “We were thinking of exploring the old castle, checking it out and proving one way or another whether it is haunted. Do you know who we could talk to, to get permission to go inside?”
“The Baroness never remarried after the baron died, they were a young coupe during the war. They never had the opportunity to have any children. I often wondered if the estate would have been cleansed somehow by the presence of children playing and growing up in the castle, playing games like hide and seek on the castle grounds. New life has such a way of sweeping away old memories, don't you think?” He gazed wistfully into space for a moment as if he was on the castle grounds and we weren't standing there in front of him obstructing his view.
“Do you know who we can ask for permission to go to the castle?” Ozzie asked again.
“They say a foreign corporation acquired the estate, an American I believe. As far as I know the powers that be haven't decided what if anything they are going to do with the property. They will probably tear the old castle down and develop the land with townhouses or a shopping mall or factory, or something, There was some talk of turning in into an apartment building, but for now they aren't doing anything with it.” Officially I am still the caretaker, but all I ever do anymore is fill out the check to pay the people who really maintain the grounds. They think I'm too old for much of anything else. The corporation kept me on when they seized the place. I still have the keys though” He replied.
“Could you let us in, would you let us explore the place for a night, maybe two? Just to see if it really is haunted the way folks say it is.”
“We wouldn't harm anything.” Bridget offered, “We would just explore, take some photographs, maybe make a recording or two, and see what we experience. We could even write a report for you, letting you know what happened to us while we were there, if you like.”
“That won't be necessary.” He replied softly, “If the three of you are going to Castle Reuversweerd, I will be going with you.”
“Wonderful” Randal replied half heartedly. “What do we need to get before we go? Are the utilities turned on? Is there water or electricity?” he asked.
“You're the veteran here and you're worried about a little water and electricity? Aren't you supposed to always be prepared?” Ozzie snarked.
“That is the boy scouts, not the army, Ozzie”
“Play nice boys.” Bridget advised “We have to get what we think we will need and make our way to the castle, we can do it on our own and meet up there or we can all go together.”
“I will meet you the three of you there, but now I am going to take care of a few hygiene issues if you don't mind.” Randal took a step or two away from the little group then stopped and turned back.
“Before I head off to the showers, what is your name? I'd like to know what to call you, it would be wrong for me to just think of you as the hostel clerk, now that we will be compatriots in this adventure.“
“You can call me Heinrich, that is much friendlier than hey you.” It looked for a moment as if Heinrich made the attempt to smile, but that the effort hurt his face.
“Thank you Heinrich.” Randal said then turned away and left the little group and headed for the showers. He was glad to get away from them. He didn't start his walking tour to join up in some bizarre little ghost hunt. Randal only wanted to see if what worked for his grandfather would work for him. He wanted to see if he really could walk off the effects of the war and find a little peace of mind, a little inner peace that is all I want.
While Randal lathered up his hair with dandruff shampoo he let his thoughts wander. With any luck, they will be gone, by the time I finish my shower and am dressed and ready to go.
He rinsed the soap out of his hair and off his muscular body grabbed a towel and dried off. He looked into his duffel bag, reached in selecting by chance a reasonably clean pair of jeans and a clean tee shirt. Randal wished he had washed out a pair of socks last night, it would be nice to have a pair of clean dry socks for the day. Never hurts to do what one can to prevent foot rot, at least that's what they say in the jungle. He thought, then smiled and decided to go sans socks today. Who says, the “rah rah” spirit is dead? He thought while sliding his feet into his boots and lacing them up. Randal threw the towel in the hamper checked the contents of his duffel bag, then left the shower. He walked past the registration desk and waved farewell to the concierge.
“See you later.”
“At the castle.” Heinrich replied grim faced. Randal felt, rather than saw a maniacal grin under under the old man's stony facade.
To The Castle
Glad to be leaving Theadora's Hostel and be out in the bright autumn sunlight once again, fed and refreshed, he hoisted his bag to his back and began walking to places as yet unknown. Randal was feeling good this morning. Good to be alive and out in the open, where a man can see what's coming, no dark places for anyone to lay in wait hiding biding their time just waiting to pounce when least expected.
Randal had no idea where the river Weerd was, much less Castle Reuversweerd, but no matter. If I find myself at the door of the castle well, then, its meant to be, if night falls and I'm is nowhere near the castle then it simply wasn't meant to happen. Ozzie and Bridget could have a night of it hunting ghosts without me. Just giving himself the option of not finding the castle, of not showing up lifted his spirits no end. Randal felt the tension seep from his shoulders and a little fresh energy flow in his step as he walked away from the hostel and further out of town.
Soon he was enjoying his hike along a quiet country road, thoughts of a haunted castle, thoughts of war, thoughts of death faded into the darker regions of his subconscious mind while he enjoyed the scenery, alone with thoughts inspired by the peaceful setting. It is so peaceful in the country, life moves at a slower pace, a man can just be who he is without pretense, maybe a man can forget his past and simply live his life in the country safely away from all the noise and violence of city life. He wondered.
Hours later Randal found himself resting in the shade of an old weeping willow near the bank of a tranquil river. Leaning against the tree trunk, partially hidden beneath the gracefully sweeping branches of the old tree. He laid his duffel bag on the ground beside him, his back comfortably relaxed against the trunk of the tree his legs stretched out in front of him like a child's. Hungry, he searched the contents of his duffel bag for something to eat. Randal was certain he had left a package of jerky in there for just such a circumstance as this, if not jerky there had to be at least a granola bar hiding in there somewhere. Why didn't I think to take an extra roll or two at breakfast? He wondered as hunger began to gnaw at the pit of his stomach. In a side pocket the of the bag he found what he was searching for, a strip of beef jerky.
Randal slipped it out of it's package, held it in his hand and admired the texture and aroma of the dried beef. Leaning back against the Weeping Willow tree he inspected the jerky for anything that might prohibit his eating it. He dusted it off, just a bit, for etiquettes sake, and then placed it in my mouth and tearing off a bite of the tangy dried meat. It did not melt in his mouth in fact the dried meat fought being eaten springing back against his teeth protesting every bite, but at that moment it was the most delicious piece of meat he could have wanted. Randal watched the river slowly flow along its course, enjoying his meal when suddenly he heard a familiar voice call his name.
