“And stay on the good side of Mrs. Lindstrom too.” J.J. nudged Sam forward. They pushed past the other students, jostling for positions right at the front of the disorderly line.
“Are there any last questions for our visitor experience host, Robin?” Mrs. Lindstrom asked.
J.J.’s hand shot up. “What can you tell us about Mr. Watt growing mushrooms?”
Mrs. Lindstrom raised an eyebrow in annoyance.
“When our class came last year, you told us he grew them where the activity room is now,” Sam said.
“Right. I thought that when I first started working here.” Robin grinned. “But I was mistaken. He actually grew the mushrooms under the current ballroom. That’s where the old conservatory used to be.”
“So what’s under the room now?” asked J.J. She wanted to make sure they were talking about the same place.
“The furnace room, maintenance areas, storage rooms with old furniture, and things like that,” Robin said. “Several sections and rooms have changed over the years, with old parts of the building being torn down, and new ones being built.”
J.J. gave a sideways glance at Sam. That explained how they ended up in a storage room when they shifted back to the present time. But what triggered them going to the past in the first place? And how had they gotten back?
Robin continued. “I’ve been studying more about the residence, and there used to be all kinds of buildings on the grounds too.”
“Like what?” J.J. asked.
One of her classmates groaned behind her.
“We’ll never get out of here now,” grumbled another.
Scuffling and chattering erupted, along with beeps and rings from cellphones.
J.J. ignored her classmates, while Mrs. Lindstrom asked everyone to settle down and put away their cell phones until they were outside. J.J. and Sam listened keenly.
“Stables, the carriage house, the gardener’s cottage and the staff quarters.” Robin pointed towards the west. “They were all on that side of the residence. A couple of summers ago, someone found a small piece of the foundation of the building where the staff lived.”
“Could we go see?” J.J. asked.
Mrs. Lindstrom interrupted. “Not today, girls!”
“Besides, I don’t know where they were exactly,” Robin said. “We have a few ideas where all the buildings were, but the research hasn’t been completed on that. There isn’t too much information available.”
“Aw, too bad,” J.J. said.
“Is there someone around who knows about the olden days?” Sam asked.
“And about what went on here then?” J.J. said.
“There is a resident next door at Pioneer Village who was on staff here when she was younger,” Robin said. “She might be able to tell you what it was like to work here fifty or sixty years ago. She might have heard stories about the older times as well.”
“Great! Could we go see her?” Sam asked.
Mrs. Lindstrom lifted her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. She seemed to be counting to ten silently.
Before she could speak, Robin cut in. “I’m sure you could visit her, but you’d have to make an appointment ahead of time.”
“And it would have to be after school hours,” said Mrs. Lindstrom, looking relieved. “Let’s go, girls, it’s almost lunch time.”
A chorus of kids took up a chant. “We’re hungry!”
“Let’s leave the history nerds behind,” one snippy girl said.
Sam scowled at her classmates.
“Can you tell us...?” J.J. started to ask.
“Her name is Mrs. Alice Goudy. Just call the main number at Pioneer Village and ask if you can talk to her,” Robin said.
Mrs. Lindstrom didn’t wait for Sam or J.J. to ask anything else. “That’s all the time we have for questions. Let’s give a big Wascana School show of appreciation for Robin.”
Everyone clapped. J.J. and Sam were the loudest.
As the group moved towards the exit, Sam and J.J. hung back, letting their classmates pass them.
J.J. shifted her poster and held it by the corners to keep it flat.
“Let’s visit Mrs. Goudy as soon as possible and see what she knows.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “I’ll call her right after school. Maybe she’ll know something about Mr. Watt too.”
“Seeing him was even more amazing than seeing the other ghosts,” J.J. said.
“Yeah, going back to his time was awesome.”
“But how did it happen?” J.J. gave Sam a puzzled look.
“And will it happen again?” Sam asked.
J.J. and Sam both glanced over their shoulders toward the ballroom. J.J. tried to envision the conservatory and the basement beneath it all those years ago.
“I hope that it does, so we can find out more.” Sam flashed J.J. a mischievous smile.
“But what if we couldn’t get back home?” J.J. turned a worried face to Sam. “I’m not sure how we got back to the present just now.”
“First, we have to find out how to get there again,” Sam said.
No thanks, J.J. thought. She gave a little shiver. “Come on, we’d better catch up to the others before we miss the bus back to school, and Mrs. Lindstrom gives us more homework, after all.”
•••
Just after six p.m. that evening, Sam popped next door to collect J.J. for their visit to Mrs. Goudy.
“It’s starting to get dark. Do you have your cell phone?” Sam heard J.J.’s dad ask as her friend stepped outside. It was autumn, and the air was chilly.
“Right here in my backpack, Dad,” J.J. assured him.
“I have mine too, Mr. Forbes,” Sam called back to him. “One of my parents will come to meet us for the walk home.” Pioneer Village was only four blocks away.
“Okay. Have fun, girls.” Mr. Forbes appeared at the door and watched them walk off.
“We’re lucky Mrs. Goudy could see us so soon,” Sam said. “She’s usually busy with her quilting group, but they had to cancel tonight. She sure was excited by our visit when I called.”
“Too bad we had soccer practice after school,” J.J said.
Sam glanced up at the darkening sky. The edge of the full harvest moon was already bright on the horizon. “Yeah. Otherwise, we could have gone while it was still daylight.”
They crossed Dewdney Avenue and stepped through the iron gateway onto the Government House grounds, a short-cut to the seniors’ complex. They scuffled across to the paved walkway, their sneakers sending up the scent of dust and dry grass. An occasional waft of air whirled fallen leaves in front of them, as they walked along the curved path through the dying flower gardens.
“Hope she’s nice like Grandma Louise,” Sam said. She hadn’t seen her favourite grandmother for over three months.
“Where is your grandma now?” J.J asked.
“Gram’s decided to travel on a river cruise. She’s made it as far as Vienna, according to the last postcard she sent us,” Sam said. “She’s not coming back from Europe for another couple of months.” Sam shook her head. “She won’t be able to help us with our ghost problems this time.”
“Gosh, you’re right. But I know how much you miss your gram for other reasons besides that,” J.J. said. “Even though mine is only in Moose Jaw, I don’t get to see her often enough either.”
Sam felt a lurch in her stomach as she thought about how much J.J. missed her mom since she passed away from cancer almost a year before. J.J.’s grandmother was the only family link left to her mom, outside of her dad.
“Do you expect your grandmother to visit any time soon?” Sam asked.
“No. Since Dad started his new job, he doesn’t have to travel so much, so Grandma doesn’t have to stay with me anymore.”
“But now your dad should have more time to take you to see her,” suggested Sam.
J.J. shook her head. “Dad’s working on an important project, so that means he doesn’t have much time to visit her. But at le
ast he can do some of his work at home, so he’s there with me more.”
Sam turned excitedly to J.J. “Maybe he could help us find out where the old buildings were at Government House.”
J.J. giggled. “He’s an architect, not an archivist, or archaeologist.”
“Still, he knows about buildings.” Sam felt her face turn red. She didn’t want to admit to J.J. that she still didn’t really know what an architect did.
“Let’s hurry, it’s getting dark fast.” J.J. shot forward at a quicker pace.
Although occasional lamp posts glowed along the paths through the Government House grounds, the large evergreens cast long, solid shadows. The elms and other trees, barren of leaves, were scratchy against the almost-dark sky. The odd shapes of bushes looked like people crouching. Hedges seemed like prime places for lurkers to hide.
Sam and J.J. clung together as they followed a curve halfway across the grounds. Somewhere to the left of a flower bed, the tinkling laughter of several people floated in the night air. They stopped in their tracks.
“Who’s there?” asked J.J. in a whisper. As soon as she spoke, the laughter stopped.
Sam and J.J. peered across the grounds.
“Do you see anyone?” J.J. murmured.
“No, but I’m sure we’re not alone.” Sam felt her pulse quicken.
“This is creepy,” J.J. said.
They ran the rest of the way.
Chapter Three
Sam breathed hard with relief when they arrived at the well-lit entrance of the seniors’ home. J.J. gasped for breath beside her.
A few minutes later, they entered the foyer. A young woman with a purple-streaked bob and one dangling earring greeted them at the reception desk. Her name tag read “Amber.” Sam told her why they’d come.
“Mrs. Goudy is waiting for you in her suite.” Amber dipped her head. “I’ll take you to her.”
Sam and J.J. followed Amber down a series of hallways. As they rounded a corner, J.J. came to a full stop, and Sam bumped into her.
“Who is that?” J.J. whispered to Sam.
Sam looked ahead and saw a woman with short, curly hair standing in the hall several metres ahead of them. She was dressed in a flared, blue flowered dress that was belted at the waist, and her head was tilted to one side, as if she was observing them.
“Is that Mrs. Goudy?” Sam asked Amber.
Amber looked confused. “Is who Mrs. Goudy?”
“The lady right in front of us,” J.J. said. She smiled at the woman, who looked strangely familiar.
Amber gave them an odd look. “There isn’t anyone there.”
“She’s right…uh,” J.J. stopped. The woman had disappeared.
“Uh, she’s gone now,” said Sam, wondering where she’d gone so fast.
“I guess I missed seeing her.” Amber shrugged. “But it's odd because I thought everyone in this wing was down at bingo tonight.” She led them to the end of the hall.
As they trailed behind, J.J. mouthed the word “ghost” to Sam, who nodded.
“Could be,” she mouthed back.
Sam and J.J. almost walked into Amber as she stopped at the first door on their right.
Amber knocked and opened the door to a cheery, “come in.” She stood aside to reveal a comfortable room with doily-adorned furniture. Sam and J.J. greeted the slender, white-haired woman who sat across from them in a puffy, reclining armchair. Beside Mrs. Goudy, a folded walker rested next to a wall that was covered with framed photographs of people from a long time ago.
“Thank you, Amber. Come in, girls.” Mrs. Goudy stretched out her hands. “I’m delighted to meet you,” she said, grabbing a hand from each of them. Her brown eyes sparkled, and a slight dimple appeared on one cheek. “Please, be seated.”
She swept her arm in a theatrical gesture towards a rose-coloured love seat next to her armchair. Her white hair was swept up in a twist on the top of her head, and her graceful movements reminded Sam of an olden-day movie star.
Sam and J.J. sank into the love seat beside one another.
“Can I offer you some juice before we get started?” Mrs. Goudy started to rise and reach for her walker.
“I can get that for you, Mrs. G.,” Amber said.
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would appreciate it.” Mrs. Goudy beamed up at her.
“Sure thing, Mrs. G.,” Amber said.
“Apple or cranberry, dears?” Mrs. Goudy raised her eyebrows at the girls.
When they’d made their selection and Amber had stepped away into the small kitchen, Mrs. Goudy relaxed with her hands on her lap. “Now, tell me girls, which one of you phoned me?”
Sam waved her hand.
“You must be Sam, then.” Her eyes lit up. “And you would be J.J.?” She turned her smile on J.J. “I have to say that you two look familiar, like I’ve met you somewhere before.”
“I don’t think so,” Sam said. J.J. shook her head.
“Just my mind playing tricks.” Mrs. Goudy leaned a little bit forward. “Well then, how may I be of help? Was it posters, you said?”
“Yes, the posters are supposed to show something about Government House over the last 125 years,” Sam explained. “They’re for a school project, and also to enter a provincial contest.”
“Oh, yes, I remember you mentioned it was for an anniversary celebration,” Mrs. Goudy said. “I’m not sure how much help I can be, but I’ll give it a whirl. What did you need to know, specifically?”
“For my poster, I’d like to know what the grounds and buildings were like a long time ago,” Sam said. She drew her notebook and pen from her backpack.
J.J. added, “We’d also like to know what it was like when you worked at Government House, and about some of the others who worked there.”
Mrs. Goudy nodded. “My sister and I worked together for a time in the late 1930s and into the early 1940s.”
“You must have been really young then,” J.J. said.
“Bless you child, aren’t you sweet.” Mrs. Goudy’s cheery laugh rang out. “I’m afraid I’m actually rather older than you think.”
“You don’t look very old,” said Sam, thinking Mrs. Goudy looked full of fun, like her own grandmother.
“I’ll leave you two to figure out my age from what I tell you,” she said, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
Amber returned with their juices and set them on hand-crocheted doilies on a round coffee table, next to a bright bouquet of fall flowers. Sam murmured her thanks and took a tiny sip. She and J.J. set their glasses back down at the same time.
“What do you remember most about working at Government House?” asked J.J.
“Where shall I start?” Mrs. Goudy said with a tinkling laugh. “We had such grand times in those days. His Honour Archibald McNab was living there then. He had a wonderful sense of humour, so down to earth. He wanted us all to call him Archie, but of course, that wasn’t proper.”
Mrs. Goudy clasped her hands. Her face held a faraway look as she continued. “Even though there were hard economic times in the 1930s and during the Second World War, the house was filled with important people coming to visit – royalty, movie stars. We just made do with our limited provisions. Mrs. McNab was such a dear too, always coming up with sensible ideas to make everything stretch and seem elegant at the same time.”
“Who were some of the special people who visited?” Sam asked with pen poised. She took a long sip of her apple juice and glanced at J.J., who was scanning the room.
“King George VI and Queen Elizabeth in 1939. Before they arrived, the house was redecorated in delicate creams and lavenders. It was simply beautiful, and the royals were so delightful.” Mrs. Goudy settled back in her chair. “And then there were the movie stars from the Hollywood blockbuster North West Mounted Police – Madeleine Carroll and Robert Preston. Oh my, he was handsome, and she was so lovely and smart.”
Sam shot a puzzled look at J.J., who shrugged.
“We don’t know thos
e movie stars or the movie,” J.J. said. She took a drink from her cranberry juice.
“Of course you wouldn’t, dears. Though the film really was very good at the time,” Mrs. Goudy said.
“Who else was working there then?” Sam asked. She leaned her notebook on the plump arm of the couch, pen ready. J.J. sat back.
“George Cooke was the janitor and did house maintenance – we stayed friends until his death about ten years ago. Then there were the two gardeners. Ernie Myles looked after the grounds, and J.P. Dewey managed the greenhouse. Bert was the chauffeur.”
She paused for Sam to finish writing the names down.
“And then, in the house, there was Ruby, who was the secretary and companion to Mrs. McNab. My sister Lily and I were housemaids. I did the upstairs bedrooms and the laundry. She did the downstairs. You’ll see some pictures of them all in my rogues’ gallery.”
She pointed to a few photographs with various groups of the staff standing outside on the grounds in front of a hedge.
“There’s Howie,” said Sam. He was on the edge of a group of people, partly cut off. She knew it was the only known photo of him.
Turning to Mrs. Goudy, J.J. added, “We learned about him on a different research project.”
“Did you know him?” Sam asked, suddenly remembering he had been the cook during Mr. McNab’s time. She exchanged looks with J.J. They’d met him as a ghost on their previous visits to Government House.
Mrs. Goudy looked puzzled. “There was no one by the name of Howie that I recall. That’s Cheun Lee.”
Sam tapped her hand to her forehead, as she remembered that the name “Howie” was only given to the cook after he had started haunting the building.
Mrs. Goudy continued. “He died before I arrived. My sister knew him a little, though. I kept her copy of the photo because it has some of the staff I knew too.”
Sam asked, “Did she tell you anything about him?”
“Not really, just that he was separated from his wife and family. He used to send money back to them in China. He suffered from insomnia – not being able to sleep through the night – so he’d shuffle back and forth down the halls in his slippers.”
Ghosts in the Garden Page 2