The Ghosts and Hauntings Collection

by Cat Knight

  Joanne felt itchy all over. This place was by far the worst place she had been stashed. Why on earth would anyone send kids to live in a place like this? It did clear up a little more about Mr. Weaver. No wonder he was so weird.

  “Rightio. Storytime is over. Let’s get back to it. I need to finish weeding this section today. I’ve got manure and mulch coming tomorrow.”

  Dan turned back to his task, Joanne took the hint and grabbed the shovel and made herself busy uprooting more dandelions, thankful the soil wasn’t too hard. As she lifted a small clump of roots out Evette and Jasmine were making their way toward her. Their pace seemed deliberate, determined and they walked in perfect timing with each other.

  Joanne, stood up from her kneeling position before they reached her, if they wanted trouble, she wasn’t going to be that easy to knock over. They reached her and stood staring at her, arms folded across their chests.

  “Defensive much?” Joanne jutted her head forward giving them her rough and tough look. Neither of them moved for a moment but regarded her with something akin to fear and hatred. Joanne didn’t know what she’d done to deserve their wrath. Just being there maybe. Someone to pick on.

  “Well get on with it, what do you want?”

  “You brought her back. We haven’t seen her in months. Keep away from us.” Puzzled, Joanne relaxed her stance a bit and then confusion cleared. They’d seen the ghost; they knew about her. Looking from one face to the other, she shrugged her shoulders.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  Evette kicked over the wheelbarrow and gave her a filthy look. “Don’t look at her, don’t follow her, don’t talk to her. Got it?” They headed off toward the pond.

  “Hey!” Joanne raised her voice loud and called after them, but they ignored her. An unusual sensation began to form in Joanne’s stomach. Anxiety? Fear? Maybe just being rattled. Whatever it was, it was not familiar to Joanne. Knowing how to fight real girls was easy but a ghost? Her limbs were trembling as she bent back down to her task. Then the thoughts rushed her. Oh God. Oh shit. She’s really not in my imagination. I gotta get outta here.

  Joanne tried to calm down.

  “OK, OK, chill out.” Picking up her trowel she continued her weeding so that Dan wouldn’t come over to see what the problem was.

  With the savage digging depleting her emotions, a type of calm returned. It occurred to Joanne that even though they didn’t want the ghost around, they hadn’t actually been harmed by her as far as she could tell. And the ghost hadn’t hurt her either. Maybe this ghost thing, isn’t that big of a deal, it just being around and in their face is probably what they’re scared of. A tiny sense of revenge edged its way in. If they were intent on being A grade bitches, she might just encourage that ghost to hang around. Just as the thought fully formed a horrific scream came from the pond.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh my God, somebody do something!”

  It was Jasmine screaming. Her voice was high pitched, shrill, and completely out of control. Even from where Joanne was she could see a thrashing and flailing out toward the centre of the pond. The panicking splashes caught not only Joanne’s attention, but Dan’s as well. Before either of them could reach the water, Evette’s head disappeared below the surface.

  Dan and Joanne were both pulling off their shoes as they ran. Jasmine was knee high in the pond, the colour in her face had drained away. She wasn’t making any sense because she was locked into panic. Yelling garbled words, Jasmine pointed out to the top of Evette’s head bobbing up and down with her flailing arms. By the time they had reached her, Evette had vanished into dull green waters.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Dan yelled. “Why ain’t you looking for her?”

  Jasmine wailed, “I can’t swim.”

  She shivered from her knees to her shoulders. Joanne waded in to where Jasmine stood, took a deep breath, and plunged her body under the water. Vision was limited to just a few centimetres in front of her. Joanne swam underneath hands outward searching for Evette.

  Something solid bumped against her, she grabbed forward and felt Evette’s body. Trying to grab a hold of her Joanne realised the girl was stuck. Feeling with her hands and running them down Evette’s torso, she grabbed hard and pulled. Breathing was becoming difficult, and the thought of surfacing crossed Joanne’s mind, but then she imagined Evette’s drowned face and willed herself to stay.

  Something slimy was holding the girl still and she tore at it. Working as quickly as she was able she continued down toward the bottom of the girl’s imprisoned legs ignoring the burn in her lungs. A web of pond weed was anchoring Evette, but there seemed to be a soft spongy object wrapping around her calves. Concentrating her efforts to free Evette, she grabbed hold of it. A movement almost intentional, wiggled under Joanne’s hands. Coming in closer, Joanne tried to see what was else was caught.

  Maybe a turtle lived here and was ensnared along with Evette. Kicking in close for better vision, bony, flesh-shredded, claw like appendages came into her view. A sickening feeling washed through her as she realised Evette was being held by fingers. Putting the panic aside Joanne grabbed hold of the hand. One by one the fingers began to lift away from Evette’s leg and her body started floating upward toward the surface.

  Joanne’s heart was racing and the burn from her lungs was excruciating. Kicking hard she held on to Evette pushing her upward. It couldn’t have been a hand, there’s no way.

  Pond weed seemed to be floating everywhere and winding around her own limbs. Something closed tightly around her ankle, and Joanne began to sink. Using every bit of strength she could muster she kicked out hard, freeing herself, and continued to move upwards. Evette’s head was above water now and it was only about a meter or so before she too would reach the surface. With a mighty effort, she pushed herself away to the side and came up next to Evette wheezing and sucking in air.

  Sunlight hit her eyes blinding her. Dan was talking, but she couldn’t understand what he said since his voice was garbled from the thumping of her heart in her ears.

  Treading water, she breathed and calmed herself becoming aware of normal sounds as her heart rate slowed.

  Evette was being dragged to shore by Dan. Joanne set out to follow. For a moment, she didn’t notice the tickling that brushed against her legs as she stretched her arms making for the bank. Why aren’t I moving forward?

  Fighting harder to swim, a terrifying sensation rushed her. The water began to move, sucking her downward. Fighting as hard as she could she kicked away with all of her strength. Opening her mouth, she tried to call to shore, but the filthy pond water entered her mouth and she spat it out, not managing to get enough air to make noise.

  The seconds merged into a timeless moment and now she was sinking below the surface. A paralysing dread took a hold of her. Confusion and disbelief crowded out rational thought. The pressure on her torso increased and fighting the terror, she took a desperate breath and clamped her mouth shut just in time.

  As she sunk lower her vision was lost to the dull green murk and she torpedoed to the bottom swimming out and railing against the water all the way.

  The sunlight hitting the surface seemed like a little dot bobbing and darting around on the other side of life.

  Dan will come, someone will come. Joanne began to feel the burn of her lungs and she knew at any minute she must open her mouth to gulp in air. But it wouldn’t be air, and she would die in a stinking pond among fetid decaying undead creatures.

  A clawing sensation grappled at her waist tangling her up in its arms. Down, down, she went, much deeper than she had known the pond could go. Her hair swirled around her face and floated into her eyes. In a bizarre thought, Joanne was glad it wasn’t longer. Soft velvety sand began filling the spaces between her toes and the muddy floor of the pond sunk up to her ankles. Something crawled up her legs and instinctively Joanne reached down and touched it.

  In utter horror, she felt clammy fingers moving and winding around her th
ighs; pulling her down to the very bottom. A terrible panic rose within her. I don’t want to die. Please let me go. Somewhere in the depths of her mind survival instinct kicked in. With frantic energy, she twisted around on the hands that held her and slipped free from their grasp. Or did it let her go? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter, somehow, she had wound up face first in the slimy sand. Pushing back from it she came eye to eye with the chalky white face of a young boy, just centimetres away.

  Chapter Six

  Inky eyes that were partly eaten away bore into her own. Flesh hung in strips from around his face and the swollen soft body bobbed around her. Bits of bone showed where flesh was gone. For a moment Joanne believed she was losing her sanity because the empty eyes looked back at her. He reached for her. Writhing in panic, she flailed forward grabbing at the bottom. Sludge passed through her fingers but she dug and grabbed, until she had a fistful of rocks.

  The decaying face with its empty sockets watched her as she grappled. Closing her hands tightly at the handful of rocks she managed to sift from the mud she moved as close as she could and flung them toward what was left of his face. They floated benignly down to rest again in the mud.

  What does it want. It’s trying to kill me. Her breathing became erratic, water started to fill her nose, her chest felt as though it would shatter. Maybe this is it, this IS how I die. A calmness pervaded her thoughts. Joanne, for a moment seemed to watch herself, from outside of her body. Perhaps it’s the lack of oxygen.

  The boy moved forward and opened his mouth as if to speak with her and she screamed a silent frightful underwater scream.

  Turning double she dove into the mud again. This time she was looking for something sharp. She would fight him. Her fingers trolled the soft and slimy bottom again for anything she could use to cut away from its clutches. A small round smooth object found her way into her hands. Just as she was about to discard it, the dead boy slipped forward and wrapped his hands around hers, closing her fingers around the object, and then let her hands go.

  As she kicked her way to the surface the boy began to sink into the mud. His face was pleading as it sunk, and his hands disappeared below the floor of the pond. Joanne flailed at the water, tired, crazed and beyond caring if any of this were real. She hit the surface thrashing around gasping for air.

  Strong hands gripped her shoulders. “It’s me, Dan. STOP STRUGGLING. Breathe normally, I’ll get you to shore.”

  Everyone lay on the bank, panting. Even Jasmine was laying down. From the sounds that were coming from her, it sounded like she was hiding sobs. Evette lay on her side white faced and staring into space. Occasional spluttering shook her body where she still coughed up water. Joanne noticed silent tears running down Evette’s face. It had been a very close call for her, for both of them, but Dan had needed to give mouth to mouth to Evette. Joanne had a question, she thought it should wait, but she badly needed the answer.

  “Evette? Did you see anything down there?”

  “I didn’t see anything leave me alone.”

  “Evette?” Joanne was gentle in her tone. After-all the poor girl nearly drowned. But, in truth, Joanne didn’t believe her.

  “You brought her back leave me alone.” Evette’s voice was small and timid but her eyes were burning bright. It was obvious she was holding her tears.

  Dan was sitting up now. His hands clasped across his knees and his head bent toward the grass. He looked at Joanne sidelong.

  “Did you see something?”

  “No. I didn’t see anything it was too murky.” Dan’s eyes were calculating.

  “What’ve you got there?”

  “What?” Joanne feigned ignorance “Nothing.”

  “What’s that in your hand?”

  Joanne was exhausted, some of the fight she usually had was temporarily lost and she sighed aloud signifying her annoyance. A hardness crossed her face and a deep frown formed between her eyes. The boys swollen, white, flesh eaten face with its inky black sockets floated in front of her and she shut her eyes tight for a minute to rid herself of the image.

  Dan crouched down next to her. His usual gruff tone was missing its edge “Come on petal, lemme see that.” Dan wiggled his fingers toward her and she held it out to him. Holding it a distance from his eye, he turned it around and around, surprise flashing over his face. “Bleedin' heck. I haven’t seen one of these in years.” He rolled it between his fingers and then and rubbed the back of it with his fist.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, I never earned one myself, mind you; I never was much of a church goer, but this is a Sunday school pin. The kids earned them for learning verses and things like that.” He turned and gazed at the pond and scratched his whiskers. “Actually, I only ever knew one kid here who earned himself one of these.”

  Looking down at the tarnished metal he rubbed the back of it with the sleeve of his overalls. They had almost dried in the hot sun. Once he was satisfied, he lifted the pin to his eyes again and studied the back. “Hmmm,” he muttered as he stared, no longer focusing on the pin but on something distant and remote. He put the pin back into Joanne’s hand. “I think you ought to keep this. But keep it to yourself. All you girls mind that. Don’t go talking about his in that house, ya hear. Now, I'm not jokin’. Weaver don’t like no-one down at the pond.”

  Dan’s serious voice was very intimidating, and they all nodded in agreement. Joanne looked at what was etched in the back. The initials D. W. had been carved into the back.

  “D.W.?” Joanne asked. “Who was that Dan?”

  He crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder. “That is our Mr. David Weaver. Your benefactor there in the big house.”

  Joanne studied the stone structure that was the Weaver House. Goose-bumps broke out along her spine, the pinned burned cold in her hand, and although she couldn’t be certain, she imagined she saw the shape of the girl ghost peeking at them through the curtains in the kitchen window.

  Chapter Seven

  Dinner that evening was a nightmare. The meal was uncomfortably silent except for Evette’s coughing fits which Weaver let slide. It would have been better if he had admonished them all. But instead he said, “I understand you had an experience with the pond today, ladies.” The worst of it was that his attempt at a fatherly manner sounded so patently contrived it was scary.

  Joanne wondered what he had up his sleeve to punish them with, but she dropped her eyes and snuck a look over the table at the other two girls. They also had dropped their eyes, their faces like stone. It was Martha that had told Weaver what happened. But you couldn’t blame her, Evette hadn’t been able to stop coughing and the doctor was called. Of course, Weaver would hear about it.

  Joanne watched him cut into his steak with a meticulous motion. He looked up as he popped a large piece into his mouth and chewed methodically which for some reason seemed to be much too measured. Almost imperceptibility she lifted her lids and noticed that he was looking past her, yet somehow at her.

  After chewing for an eternity, he finally swallowed and jabbed his fork into the air toward her, revealing the lie of his previous calm. His voice took on a calculated persuasive tone

  “It’s deceptively deep in the pond. There are a number of underground springs that feed into it.” He positioned his knife on the steak, dug it in, and started severing away at a piece of steak. His hand worked double time as he talked.

  “The water appears calm and inviting, but dangers lurk below. There are springs that mingle underground coming up into the pond. The result is that it creates very strong currents – strong enough to carry you under.” His mouth gave an involuntary twitch and he lingered his eyes on Joanne. “You must be more careful.”

  Joanne glanced over at the other girls, they remained like stone, their food barely touched refusing to meet her eyes. Bitter thoughts sat on her tongue. Perhaps I should have let you drown. Weaver still had his eyes trained on her. It gave her the heebie jeebies.

  All the same, if what he
said was true, if the under current was so strong, maybe that is what had dragged Evette and herself under the water. It was a comforting thought and Joanne wanted so very much to believe it.

  But what about what I saw? Oxygen deprived, that’s the reason - I was starving for it.

  But that didn’t explain the ghost girl in her room, and it didn’t explain that Jasmine and Evette seemed to have already been acquainted with the ghost. They actually accused her of bringing it back.

  Joanne averted her eyes from the table, looking back down at her food. The back of her nose was tingling and the hairs on her arms stood on end. It would be the worse for her if her anxiety started to show. From under her lids she could see Weaver was still watching her covertly. He seemed mightily concerned that they had been in the pond, and unusually preoccupied with her, but something wasn’t right about it.

  There was more to his behaviour than a concern for their wellbeing. He’s suspicious! The realisation hit her and she forgot herself and looked up at him.

  His eyes met hers, staring back at her devoid of expression, cold and calculating. And something else. It was a recognition, as though he was tuned in on her thoughts.

  That’s what it was, he wasn’t hiding from her. He knows I know. He knows that there’s something in the pond.

  Turning her eyes back to her plate she wondered why he was so very alert and so very angry about it all. Maybe one of his previous fosters had drowned here and was considered a runaway. He’d probably had his share of those.

  It would mean the end of fostering for him if there were accidents on his watch. Putting her hand in her pocket she rubbed the pin with her thumb. And what about this? Joanne retreated further into herself.

  Questioning every thought. Trying to rationalise things seemed a lot easier than believing in ghosts. It was possible she had been out of her mind for a moment. Maybe she had accidentally gotten some of the poisonous plant, and if that wasn’t it, then she had been starving for oxygen and hallucinating from that.