by Eva Pohler
“Are you still planning to meet me tomorrow to see the attic?”
“What time?”
“I still don’t know yet.”
“I’ll see how I feel. I may try to get in touch with my psychic.”
“Call her today, Tanya. Please. I’ll split the fee with you.”
“I knew that if you ever had an experience like Sue and I’ve had, you’d believe.”
“I’m not saying I believe.”
“Sure you’re not.”
After Ellen hung up, she called Sue.
“Do you mind if my mom comes along?” Sue asked. “I’ll drive.”
“I don’t mind. Tanya’s bailing anyway.”
“What a shocker.”
Ellen was waiting by the curb when Sue pulled up. Since her mother, Jan, was already in the passenger’s seat, Ellen climbed in back.
“Hello, Jan,” Ellen said. “How are you?”
“I’m just fine, but I’m worried about Sue.”
“Mother…”
“What’s wrong with Sue?” Ellen asked.
“Well,” Jan started. “All I said is did she remember to put on deodorant this morning, and I got an earful. I bet you don’t talk that way to your mother, Ellen.”
“I’ve said a lot worse, believe me.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Sue’s mother said.
In the rearview mirror, Sue smiled at Ellen.
Ellen was always surprised by how Sue allowed her mother to bully her. Sue barely said two words the whole way to the historic district.
Jan, on the other hand, had plenty to say, and she spoke as though her daughter wasn’t even in the car with them. Ellen wondered if Sue felt invisible, too.
Ellen sucked in her lips and held back tears. Tears seemed to come too easily these days. A commercial with kittens and babies would get her faucets pouring in no time. This time of her life was so different from any other. Was the natural course to recede into the realm of death slowly, starting with invisibility? Maybe Jan resisted by holding on to her role as Sue’s mother with an iron grip. Ellen and her two best friends needed to hold on to something, too. They needed this house project. They needed this adventure to keep them from fading into the darkness.
Sue parked in front of the old Greek revival and pointed it out to her mother.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” her mother said. “It’s a good thing you’re an only child.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Sue asked.
“Because you’re going to need every dime I leave you if you invest your money in that pile of wood.”
“You haven’t seen the inside,” Ellen said. “This place has amazing potential. We plan to restore it to its original grandeur.”
“Well, hopefully I won’t be around much longer,” Jan said. “For your sake, Sue.”
Sue gave Ellen a look in the rearview mirror that said if she only knew.
They walked up the sidewalk to the Forrester’s light-blue two-story Victorian. It had a wide front porch framed by two enormous oak trees. Ellen’s throat felt suddenly dry and tight at the thought of seeing the man with the axe again. Maybe Tanya had been right to bail.
When Bud Forrester answered the door, he was friendlier this time, though that wouldn’t require much, considering his behavior the evening before. The fact that he was no longer brandishing an axe did wonders for his new and improved disposition.
He welcomed them in and led them through a foyer to an old-fashioned living room, where Mrs. Forrester was waiting in a wheelchair—at least, some of her was. She was so large that the majority of her was not actually in the wheelchair.
Sue didn’t have to say her thoughts for Ellen to know what they were: For once I’m not the biggest girl in the room.
“Goodness gracious,” Jan muttered as they entered.
Sue and Ellen exchanged glances of sheer and utter embarrassment. They shouldn’t have brought Sue’s mother.
Ellen smiled at the woman in the wheelchair, who pretended not to have heard Jan. Ellen extended her hand as Mr. Forrester introduced them all. Sue introduced her mother, too.
Amelia Forrester asked to be called Millie, and then she offered everyone iced tea or lemonade. Everyone wanted iced tea, so Bud left the room to get it.
When Millie Forrester smiled, she was quite pretty in the face. Her nails were also nicely manicured, and she wore tasteful, dainty jewelry on her fingers, ears, and very large wrists. She spoke with a mixture of southern drawl and German accent, which reminded Ellen of Paul’s parents in New Braunfels.
“Please sit down and tell me what you want to know about the Gold House ghost,” she said sweetly.
“We want to know everything.” Sue sat in one of two beige armchairs as her mother took the other.
“Keep in mind that the house next door isn’t the only haunting in this area,” Millie said. “I was just talking with the Robertsons, who live in the Victorian on the other side of the Gold House, and they could tell you some things that will keep you awake at night, that’s for darn sure.”
“Do you call it the Gold House because of its color?” Ellen wondered if maybe it was once a deeper yellow than it was now in ruins.
“Oh, no,” Millie flapped a hand in the air. “The Golds were the original owners. It’s been the Gold House for as long as I can remember.”
Ellen recalled the names in the file: Theodore and Alma Gold.
“There’s also an old legend,” Millie added. “It’s just an old story, but they say that Theodore brought German gold to this country and buried it somewhere on the property. So I guess the name may have a double meaning for some folks.” Millie laughed.
“You don’t think the legend is true?” Jan asked. “Has anyone looked into it?”
“Oh, sure. For decades.” Millie said. “Even Bud has gone over with his metal detector hoping to find something. He’s spent hours over there. Other neighbors, too, especially old Mitchell Clark. I’m telling you, if there was gold, they’d ‘ve found it by now.”
To Ellen, the legend made the house even more interesting. She smiled at the idea of her and Sue and Tanya digging every square inch of the grounds. This really could be an exciting adventure.
“Let’s get back to the ghost girl,” Sue said.
“Where should I begin?” Millie asked.
“Why don’t you start with the very first time you saw or sensed her,” Sue suggested.
“I thought you said she was a young woman,” Jan said. “Or was she a child?”
“She’s a very young woman, I think,” Millie said. “Perhaps a teen. We don’t know for sure. We don’t know much about what she must have been like alive. We’ve found no records for her whatsoever. We have researched all the hauntings in this area, and this and that, but haven’t quite figured out the one next door. So I can only tell you what I’ve learned about her since her death.”
“Please go on,” Ellen prompted.
Millie looked up toward her ceiling, retrieving the memories. “The first time I ever saw her was a couple of years after the Gold House went on the market—1998, I believe. I had just had my final back surgery a few weeks before. I remember because I was feeling very hopeful that I might walk again after nearly thirty years—I was in a car accident in my twenties, not long after we were married.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” Jan interjected.
“Thank you,” Millie said. “So on that particular spring morning in ’98, I was out in my garden—I used to have a beautiful rose garden, and this and that, and it’s still there, but overgrown with weeds and not as productive as it once was.”
“My garden is overgrown now, too,” Jan said. “I used to love to work in the front beds, but it’s gotten harder over the years.”
Ellen wished Jan wouldn’t interrupt. “Please, go on, Millie.”
“Anyway, Bud had wheeled me out to the garden on the side of our house, next to the abandoned one next door. I had a pai
r of pruners and was pruning and just a talking away. Talking is good for plants, you know.”
“I talk to my plants, too,” Jan said with a satisfied smile.
Ellen sat forward. “So then what happened?”
“Well, Bud was mowing the front yard, and wasn’t there to see it, but I saw something dart across my backyard. We didn’t have fences back then, either. It was all open just as you see it now. A creek used to flow behind the houses, but it’s all dried up. Anyway, I turned and saw a girl with white hair and a white dress and just as thin as a skeleton disappear into the abandoned house.”
“Are you sure she was a ghost?” Sue asked, with a glance toward Ellen. “How do you know she wasn’t just some kid messing around?”
“That’s what I thought she was, at first,” Millie admitted. “Even though she was ghostly pale and thin, and this and that, I assumed she was alive.”
“What changed your mind?” Ellen asked.
“I was leaning over the roses, and this and that, when I felt a tap on my shoulder that made the hair on my neck stand on end. I turned to see her gaunt, pale figure looking down at me. The sun was just behind her head, shining right in my face, but I could see her well enough, and I felt a coldness overcome me. She narrowed her eyes with the oddest expression and said, ‘You ain’t ever getting out of there.’ It made me shiver.”
“What did she mean?” Jan asked.
“Before I could ask, she ran off,” Millie said. “But later, when I found out that my back surgery was a failure and I would never walk again, I came to believe the ghost was telling me that I would never get out of this chair. And she was right.”
“What did your husband think?” Ellen asked.
“As soon as I heard the mower turn off, I hollered out to him. He came running, all sweaty and exhausted. I told him about the girl, but he thought I was imagining things.”
“He didn’t believe you?” Sue asked.
Bud returned with a tray of glasses filled with iced tea and set it on the coffee table between them. He handed a glass to Jan. “She was on a bunch of meds from her surgery. I thought she was hallucinating.” He handed a glass to Sue.
“Thank you.” Sue took the glass.
“When was the first time you saw the ghost?” Ellen asked Bud as she accepted a glass from him.
He tapped his chin. “Was it after the third or fourth visit?”
“Third, I think,” Millie said.
“So the girl came back?” Sue took a drink of her tea. “Here, to your house?”
“She’s been back many times,” Millie said.
“How recently?” Sue asked.
“About two weeks ago, I was on the phone with Ida Robertson and saw the girl as clear as day pass down my hallway to the stairs,” Millie said. “I had just been telling Ida what I’d heard about the twins down the street—those two high school dropouts that everyone suspects are in a gang, and this and that.”
“Did you see her, too?” Sue asked Bud.
“Not that time.”
“He didn’t believe me years ago, when I first saw the ghost,” Millie said. “It took a few weeks for him to finally see her.”
He turned to his wife. “That time she came to your bedroom.”
“That was bizarre,” Millie said shaking her head. “One night, I was already sound asleep in my bed. I felt someone tap my shoulder, and when I opened my eyes, she was leaning over me. I felt a cold shiver travel down my back. I even felt a tingle in my toes and had the strangest feeling that I could move my legs, and this and that, but, of course, I couldn’t.”
“Did she say anything?” Jan asked.
Millie nodded. “She said, ‘Where’s Momma?’”
“Did you get a better look at her?” Sue asked.
“It was dark in the room.” Millie took a sip of her tea before continuing. “There was a light on in the hallway—we always keep it on. Still do. So she made a kind of silhouette in her white dress. I got the feeling from her voice and from the way she spoke, and this and that, that she was young—maybe a teenager.”
“Did you say anything?” Ellen asked.
“I asked her who her momma was, and she said Cynthia. I told her I would look for her. Then when I asked the girl what her name was, she ran away. I wanted so badly to follow her.”
“Why didn’t you follow her?” Sue asked Bud. “Or did you sleep through all of that?”
Bud’s face turned red.
“It’s hard for me to sleep in the same bed with Bud,” Millie said quickly. “He wasn’t there when the ghost appeared.”
“I sleep upstairs,” he added. “So, yes, I did sleep through the whole thing, apparently.”
Millie reached out and took her husband’s hand. “He still hadn’t seen her yet and was getting worried about me, weren’t you, Bud?”
“I thought she was losing her mind,” he said. “I thought maybe the medicine she was taking, or maybe the depression…I didn’t know what to think.”
“But then you finally saw her, too,” Millie said, smiling.
Bud nodded with his lips pressed together. “Indeed.”
“He was in the shower,” Millie said. “Shampooing his hair, eyes full of soap, and this and that, and next thing you know, he sees her standing outside the glass doors.”
“I couldn’t breathe,” Bud said. “I knew it couldn’t be Millie or her mother.”
“My mother was already bed-ridden at the time,” Millie explained.
“What did you do?” Jan asked.
“I hollered, ‘Get the hell out of here!’ and she disappeared.”
Sue’s eyes widened. “Into thin air?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Bud said. “The room was full of steam. I got out and threw on a robe to look for her, but she was gone.”
Ellen still wasn’t convinced they were talking about a ghost. Couldn’t this have been a neighborhood kid playing tricks on them?
“Did you ever have the Gold House cleansed?” Sue asked.
“You mean like with a priest?” Bud asked. “We haven’t, but I think I heard about someone else doing it a few years back. Not sure.”
“Every time that house comes close to selling, she shows up here,” Millie said. “Then, when the buyers leave, the ghost returns home.”
“Sounds like you’ve gotten used to her presence,” Jan said. “Do you think of her as a friendly spirit then?”
Both Forresters shook their heads.
“I don’t trust her,” Bud said. “One night, I saw her run across the back lawn toward the creek bed. Blood dripped down her arms and splattered her white dress. It gave me the chills. The next morning, one of our neighbors found her cat dead—decapitated.”
“You think the ghost did it?” Ellen asked.
“You tell me,” Bud said. “It’s a strange coincidence if she didn’t.”
Sue met Ellen’s eyes. They were probably thinking the same thing: Tanya wouldn’t like hearing that. Maybe Ellen would ask Sue to keep that detail between the two of them. Ellen still wanted the house.
“And she killed my dog,” Millie added. “About twelve years ago. Pedro was the sweetest little lap dog you’d ever seen. It was cruel of the ghost to kill him.”
“How do you know she did it?” Ellen asked.
“Bud saw her,” Millie said.
“I didn’t see her do it, but I saw her with him,” Bud explained. “And the very next day, we found him dead.”
A chilling moan sounded from somewhere in the house.
“What was that?” Sue asked, jumping nearly six inches out of her seat.
Ellen had also been startled, though Jan seemed not to have heard.
“My mother,” Millie explained. “Bud?”
Bud nodded and climbed to his feet. He gently kissed his wife’s cheek before excusing himself from the room.
Ellen guessed a man who took care of two invalids for most of his life couldn’t be that bad, could he?
“The girl whose gho
st has been haunting this area was most likely insane,” Millie said as her husband left the room. “For many years, that house was a rest home for the mentally handicapped. You did know that, didn’t you?”
Ellen felt her jaw drop open, and her expression was mirrored by Sue.
“No, we didn’t,” Ellen said.
Chapter Six: The Attic
After they left the Forresters’ blue Victorian, Ellen and Sue led Jan across the yard to the house next door to show her the yellow Greek revival—the Gold House. As they stepped beneath the portico between the vine-strangled and decrepit columns, Ellen said, “We’re going to have to tell Tanya the truth, aren’t we? We can’t keep it from her—the fact that this place was an asylum, or rest home, or what have you.”
“We have to tell her,” Sue said. “But if she wants out, I’ll still go in with you. I’m fascinated by this place.”
Ellen frowned. “I’m not sure I can afford half.” Plus, this adventure was something the three of them were going to do together. She didn’t want to buy the house without Tanya.
“You girls are crazy,” Jan said. “I guess the inside must be amazing.”
“Mother, try to use your imagination to envision what it will be when we’re finished with it.”
“I’ll have to use my imagination, all right.”
Ellen unlocked the front door, pausing once again on the threshold and listening for any signs of a presence. Then she opened the door for the other two and followed them inside.
“Of course, if you find gold, it’ll be worth it,” Jan added.
“As soon as I get home tonight, I’ll do some research on the internet,” Ellen said as they showed Jan the front rooms. “Millie said the doctor’s name was Jonathan Piers, isn’t that right? The same name we read about in the abstract from the realtor?”
“There was no internet in 1930,” Jan said.
“Mother, have you ever heard of archives? It’s worth a Google search, anyway.”
“This house reminds me of your Aunt Mary’s,” Jan said. “I never did care for gold fixtures.”