Spectral Tales: A Ghost Story Anthology

by Jamie Campbell

  As each of us placed a hand on Wanda, Gully mused, “Flirting. I don’t know what that is. Don’t think I’ve ever done it. Pretty sure I have no idea how.” Yeah, Gully was oftentimes delayed in her responses and thoughts. Gus and I agreed it was part of her charm. Not everyone felt the same though. Case in point: Wanda.

  “Wow. Really?” muttered Wanda.

  With wide, blinking brown eyes, Gully whispered, “Really what? Ooh, did I miss something?”

  “Did you miss something? No, I just think there’s a lot missing there,” Wanda said, gesturing Gully’s brain.

  Gus playfully grumbled, “Hey, watch it. That’s my sister.”

  “Um, what does that mean exactly?” Gully asked me.

  “Nothing, Gulls, forget it,” I said quickly.

  Wanda jerked her shoulders forward. “Yes. Forget it. We’re moving.” And with that, Wanda moved us through the front doors with hardly a shudder.

  In one fluid movement, Gus immediately took Gully and I by the hand; Wanda speedily grasped his right arm. We ran through the night disguised as anything that would get us through the wall of guards: floating bits of pavement or gravel, palm leaves, grass, and even flowers. Admittedly, it was amusing to hear the sounds of our footsteps leaving the guards utterly mystified.

  “Did you hear footsteps?”

  “You didn’t hear drums, did you? 'Cause if you did, we’re in real trouble. Night marchers.”

  “We’re safe behind the gates.”

  “Something moved by me! I think it was flying gravel!”

  “Yeah, right, you probably just had too much to drink again tonight. Tell us, how much did you down to impress the little barmaid this time?”

  The guards’ confused mutterings faded away the closer we moved to the gate. Gus positioned us within the shadows of two large palm trees where the guards wouldn’t see us. Wanda once again took the reins, ghosting us all through the wrought iron gate.

  Once we were in the clear, Wanda said, “This is where I leave you…or, more accurately, where you leave me.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I asked again in the vain hope she might reconsider.

  “Maile’s right,” said Gus. “If you move back through that gate and across institution grounds, the guards will see you. I can’t even think about how the headmaster will punish you.”

  Wanda smiled knowingly. “The headmaster won’t punish me because the guards will never see me.”

  I smirked. “This isn’t the first time you’ve broken out, is it?”

  “I have a little hideout where I can watch the waves. I know the schedules of every guard, what hallways are empty and when…I’ll be fine,” Wanda said, reassuring us.

  “Bye, Wanda.” I pulled her into a hug. By her delayed return-squeeze, I gathered she wasn’t used to someone hugging her.

  “Be careful,” she said, moving back through the gates. “And good luck.”

  In the distance, I heard the faint whispers of chanting and the rumble of drums. Staring down the beach, I could even see the flicker of torches. The night marchers were on the move…and they were heading right for us.

  “And when I say good luck, I mean about them.” Wanda pointed down the beach.

  “Night marchers,” I whispered, as Wanda slipped within a thick section of shrubbery and disappeared.

  “Yeah, is anyone gonna fill me in on the ‘Oh holy crap, it’s the night marchers’ drama?” asked Gus, frustrated. “Why is Wanda so afraid of them?”

  I swallowed hard. “Because they’re constantly recruiting… If you make eye contact with them, you’ll die and your spirit will be forced to march with them for eternity.”

  “Alright, then, think we need to go in the opposite direction of the night marchers,” said Gus, starting down the other end of the beach with Gully by his side.

  “I agree with Gus,” said Gully.

  “Wait,” I cried. “I-I can’t leave yet. We have to meet them along the shoreline.”

  Gus tossed his hands up, exasperated. “Have you lost your mind? I know you’ve lost your day-sight, but don’t tell me you’ve lost your rational brain cells along with it!”

  “I have to say goodbye to my parents, my mom. Night marchers are the only ones who can make that happen.”

  Gus took my trembling hands in his as the sound of drums drew closer and closer. “Maile, your parents live in your heart.”

  “No, Gus, they’re here. Hawaii is all my family has ever known, and I’ll be leaving here…leaving them. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “But that means we have to march toward the ghosts,” said Gus.

  “I know,” I replied coyly.

  “Ghosts that could kill us,” Gus added.

  “I know that, too.” He wasn’t making this easy. Maybe I was being stupid…maybe there was no ‘maybe’ about it.

  “Ooh, ghosts!” trilled Gully, merrily swinging her shoulders back and forth. “I love ghosts! I think we should definitely go say ‘hi’ to the ghosts!”

  Gus dropped his head and groaned. “Maile, how could this possibly result in anything but our immediate deaths and subsequent admittance into the ranks of killer ghosts?”

  “I have an idea. I just need you to trust me,” I said, my eyes boring into his, imploring him to believe in me.

  Finally, Gus smiled slightly. “You know I do.”

  “Does this mean we get to move toward the ghosts?” asked Gully.

  “Yes, Gully, it does, but it also means you and Gus have to listen to what I say and do exactly what I tell you to do. Can you promise me that?” I asked.

  “You’ve got my word,” said Gus.

  “Thanks,” I said, before turning to my best friend. “How about you, Gully?” No answer. Oh dear, she must be disconnected. Again. “Gully? Gully. GULLY!”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes, I’ll listen to you,” she finally replied.

  “And you’ll do as I say?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” I had the feeling Gully wasn’t sure she would pay attention long enough to listen, much less do what I say.

  I shot Gus a skeptical glare, which he had no problem translating.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she hears and does.”

  “Thanks.” With a giant exhale, I said, “Okay. Let’s go face a group of angry, tortured warriors. Yeah. How could this possibly go wrong?”

  “I know!” Gully chirped, raising her hand.

  “Kind of a rhetorical question,” I said.

  Gully blinked twice, and muttered, “Yeah, I don’t know what that is.”

  “Think it’s best if we just keep moving forward,” said Gus. As we made our way to the shoreline, he added, “Maile, I do love you, but I think you’re crazy for doing this.”

  “Well, I love you and don’t blame you for thinking I’m crazy…because I probably really am, like in a bad way,” I agreed.

  My blood chilled as we neared the shore, where the sea kissed the sand. Even the wonderfully warm Hawaiian winter felt the effect of the night marchers’ presence as the torches, drums, and chants grew closer.

  Once the glistening, foggy figures came into view, I turned to Gully and Gus. “Lie down in the sand. And whatever you do, do not look up, do not make eye contact. If you do…you’re dead.”

  “But I want to meet them,” Gully whined.

  “No, Gully…these ghosts are not of the friendly variety. Just lay down, now, please,” I said.

  “Fine,” Gully sighed. “But I think it’s ridiculous. I don’t think they’re as bad as people make them out to be. Misunderstood, maybe…but not bad.”

  “Maile…” The helplessness in Gus’s voice broke my heart as he gazed up at me from the sand.

  “If this has a chance of working, I’ve got to risk my life,” I said.

  Gus was beyond furious. I knew what he wanted to do—he wanted to wrap his arms around me and his sister, fade the three of us into the sand, and let the warriors march on by. He wanted to save me, and I loved him for t
hat. We had to leave Hawaii, I understood that fact; we had to try to find a place where we wouldn’t be institutionalized. Truthfully, I was skeptical such a city or town existed out in the world. Still, we had to try and save ourselves. But generations of my family called this island home; I was raised to respect our connection to the land. We were always at one with the island, and no matter how alone we felt, our family would always be there—in every palm tree, every splash of a wave and song of a passing bird. I had to say goodbye properly, and that meant facing the night marchers, for they were my only hope of seeing my parents.

  As the night marchers approached, I dropped my eyes to the sand around my feet. Once they had come to a stop opposite me, I emphatically implored them to help me.

  “My name is Maile Lahela. I’ve been institutionalized for being different. I was taken away from my mom and dad. My parents died shortly after I was removed from our home. I’m all that’s left of my family. The Lahela family has been part of Hawaii for many generations, but now my friends and I must leave the island and try to escape the brutality and torture we endure in the institution on a daily basis. Before I can leave…I-I have to say goodbye to my parents. According to legend, since you walk both the spirit and living realms, you are the only ones who can bring forth fellow Hawaiians who have passed over. I need to see my parents again…to say goodbye, even if it’s only for a second…a half-second. Please. Please help me.”

  There was a muttering amongst the higher ranked warriors. Without making eye contact, I dared to peek at the chief warrior as he stepped forward.

  “Child, we have never granted such a request. We take. We build our ranks. What you ask of us, no one has asked before,” said the chief. “But your courage, strength, and love for your family have not gone unnoticed. We are impressed not only with your bravery in requesting to see your family, but for enduring all you have at such a young age. Thus, we are willing to grant your request.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” I cried, still not making eye contact with any of the night marchers.

  “We can only summon a single family member. Who shall that loved one be, child?”

  “My mother.” I hated having to choose between people I loved, but my mom…she was my best friend…she was everything.

  “Having grown up on the island, I suppose you know the condition that must be met before we can summon the spirit of your mother.”

  Nodding, I said, “Yes, Sir, I’m aware of the condition.”

  “Wait. There’s a condition? What condition?” Gus muttered from the sand beside me.

  Answering Gus’s frantic inquiries, the chief warrior simply replied, “We can only grant her request if she meets my gaze and a member of her family steps forward to claim her blood as family. In other words, unless Miss Lahela has an ancestor marching amongst us, she will meet her death.”

  “WHAT?” shouted Gus. “But…how does she know? How would she know?”

  “Shhh.” I tried to shush him. The last thing we needed was for the night marchers to grow agitated or perceive any of us as acting in a disrespectful manner.

  “Don’t shush me, Maile. This is serious stuff. And you do realize I’m trying to sound tough with my face in the sand, right? This is slightly demoralizing, so some slack should be given,” Gus murmured.

  Strangely, the marchers actually chuckled. I couldn’t tell if it was a sarcastic chuckle—the kind that rattled bones—or if they were genuinely amused.

  “Miss Lahela will not know if she has an ancestor among us until she meets my gaze. If there is someone of her blood here, he or she will step forward, thereby saving her life. If not, she will die and join our ranks.”

  “Aw, hell, that’s it!” grumbled Gus, leaping up off the sand.

  “Gus! No! What are you doing?” I shouted.

  “Ooh, can we get up now?” asked Gully. “I’m kinda tired of being a throw rug.” And with that, Gully popped up as well.

  “Gully! Gus! No!”

  “You’re not standing alone,” Gus said forcefully.

  “DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH THEM!” I screamed, but it was too late. Both Gully and Gus had locked eyes with the marchers.

  I watched in horror as the night marchers slowly drained the lives from my boyfriend and my best friend.

  As their eyes bulged and the skin on their faces grew thinner and thinner and thinner, I screamed, “No. NO! Please spare my friends. Take me! Take me, not them, not them! I’ll trade you my life for theirs, whether I have an ancestor here or not. Just please, PLEASE STOP!” With this, I determinedly made eye contact with the chief warrior.

  He narrowed his eyes on me, studying my face. Holding up his hand, he ordered his followers to stop. “Release the two companions.”

  Though I never broke eye contact with the warrior, my peripheral vision told me they had ended their assault on Gus and Gully. Both of my dear friends had fallen to their knees, gasping for air.

  With a simple smirk, the chief warrior proudly said, “You are brave, young one.”

  “Just do it,” I demanded.

  And so it began—the warrior pulled me to my death. It happened so fast—the darkness…the quiet…the nothingness.

  “Stop this,” shouted a strong man’s voice. “She is my blood.”

  The chief immediately stopped his attack; I dropped to the sand, landing on my side, barely able to breathe. Gus was beside me in seconds, pulling me into his arms.

  “Maile? Maile! It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  When my vision cleared, I turned to the ghostly figure claiming we shared a bloodline. “Papaw?”

  Smiling warmly at me, my great-grandfather nodded.

  Looking between us, the chief said, “You, Maile Lahela, have surpassed any expectation we marchers had formed about the living. We find most to be disingenuous, uncaring, and profoundly self-involved. Yet you and your friends have shown us that there are those who value love, friendship, and family above all else. Thus, you and your friends are free to go. In fact, I will see that your great-grandfather escorts you to a nearby dock, where a friend of the night marchers will aid in your escape.”

  “Thank you, Sir, thank you,” I said gratefully.

  “However, I have a promise to fulfill, have I not?” With a nod of his head, he and the entire group of night marchers raised their hands to the heavens. “Come say farewell to your child.”

  In mere moments, a beautiful, luminous white light shone on the beach before me. As the radiant glow faded, I studied the figure kneeling in front of me. My shoulders collapsed and tears pooled within my eyes.

  “Mama?”

  “My baby,” whispered my mom, holding her arms wide.

  Gus released me and I crawled across the sand and into my mother’s arms. The second I felt her embrace, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. She felt so warm, so real…so alive.

  “Oh, Mama, I’ve missed you so much. So much.”

  “My sweet, beautiful, brave baby,” she said. Pulling back and cupping my face in her hands, silver tears streaming down her glistening cheeks, Mom said, “I’m so proud of the young woman you’ve become, Maile. You’re brave and strong and kind, and I’m grateful to have known you, my angel. You were the best thing that ever happened to me…the best part of my life.”

  I sobbed, wishing she could stay with me forever.

  “Only a few more minutes,” the chief stated, though I detected a hint of sorrow in his voice.

  “Don’t leave me, Mama. Please…I don’t want to do this alone. I need you.”

  “Oh, Maile, I wish I could stay…” Mom’s voice cracked. Swallowing hard, she said, “Pick a star, any star.”

  I wiped my blurry eyes and gazed up at the sky, just like I did as a child. Pointing my limp, shaky finger, I said, “That one.”

  “Ah, that’s a good one. It’s a very important star, you know. I don’t have time to tell you its whole story, but the best part about that little star is…that’s where I’ll b
e, watching over you.”

  The tears flowed once more as I grabbed hold of my mama.

  “One last time…” she said, her voice beginning to fade. Mom gently stroked my hair, singing, “My baby, how I love you…My love can’t fade…I’m there, one star away. Goodbye, my precious baby.”

  “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you, Maile.”

  She held me in her arms, hugging me tightly until she faded away, back to the heavens. I clasped my hands over my mouth, the sadness overwhelming me.

  “Child, it is time you move on,” said the chief.

  Nodding, I choked on grateful tears and somehow managed to give him my thanks. “Thank you for this moment. I’m profoundly thankful.”

  The old warrior shook his head. “It is not I you need to thank. It is yourself and your friends. You owe tonight to your own brave, endless hearts. Farewell, Maile and friends.”

  All but my papaw marched forward. Gully and Gus sat on either side of me, their arms wrapped around my shoulders and arms. The last memory I had of my mom would no longer be from the sad, painful night I was ripped from her arms; it would be of tonight, resting in her arms as she sang to me one final time—on a night where a band of spirits found hope within three outcast friends and saw fit to help set them free.

  I gazed up at the little star I’d selected; suddenly, that sweet, tiny star twinkled brighter than any other in the Hawaiian sky.

  Smiling, I said, “I love you, too, Mama.”

  And in that moment, I knew she would never be far from me, not really. All I had to do was look to the star-filled night sky and rest easy knowing she was watching over me—over all of us—as we tried to find where we belong. Right now, watching that little star smile upon us, I firmly believed we’d find that long-dreamed of place.

  About Sutton Shields

  Ms. Shields is a sports-loving, holiday addict with a seriously stupid cricket and grasshopper phobia. To highlight her membership in the dork category, Ms. Shields simply cannot bring herself to clean out a pumpkin because, to her, it would be like de-stuffing a stuffed animal. Despite her idiocy, Ms. Shields adores her parents and always hopes to make people smile, even if it means making a fool out of herself.