Will O Wisp

by Risner, Fay

  Monday morning, Gracie asked if anyone would like to go mushroom hunting with her. Shana was all for the outing, but Melinda declined. She said she wanted to bake a cake. She could work on lunch while they were gone.

  When Gracie and Shana walked into the timber, Shana stopped and her eyes scanned to the top of the trees. “Sure and the trees are tall.”

  “This is an old timber. Been growing here since the beginning of time, I expect,” Gracie said, following the girl's amazed eyes.

  “Sure and it tis, the trees are so tall they seem like climbing posts to heaven,” Shana said in awe.

  “Nicely put, girl,” Gracie said, impressed.

  Deeper into the timber, Gracie showed Shana what to look for when she found a cluster of morels peeking out of the dried leaves. “Don't move, youngun, until you look all around your feet once you spot a mushroom. When you see one morel, there's usually more around you.”

  She handed Shana one of the old pillow cases they brought along. “Move over so we can cover more ground.”

  Gracie stopped walking and stared at a large hickory nut tree. She patted the rough bark and smiled to herself, like greeting an old friend.

  Shana saw the gesture. “Sure and what is it you're thinkin' about, Aunt Gracie?”

  “I was just remembering back in time when I was younger. This is my thinking tree,” Gracie said, looking through the leaves to patches of blue sky.

  “What is a thinkin' tree?” Shana asked, coming over close.

  “When I had a problem bothering me, I came to this tree and sit down to think over my problem. I had the whole place to myself, and no one to bother me. Everyone should have a secret place that is private. Somewhere to get off to when something is worrying them,” Gracie said.

  “Can I have a place like that?” Shana asked.

  “Sure you can. Just pick you a tree you like, and it's yours,” Gracie said. “Now we best get back to looking for them mushrooms.”

  As Shana watched the ground, Gracie's attention turned to a tree. “Lookee, there, girl.”

  “At what?” Shana asked as she stared at a snaggled, dead tree.

  “The bees sure are out in full force today. See them going in that high hole in the crotch of that tree,” Gracie said excitedly as she pointed out the spot.

  “Sure and they are. What about it?”

  “That's a honey tree. This fall when the bees have that tree full of honey Thad should come here and rob the tree. Help me remember where this tree is located so we can show him,” Gracie said.

  “All right,” Shana said and kept walking.

  An animal made a barking sound over Shana's head. Startled, she jumped and looked at the tree above her. “What was that noise?”

  “A squirrel warning his friends and the other animals that strangers are in their territory,” Gracie explained.

  Suddenly, there was rustling of leaves and creaking limbs. The squirrel sprang from one flimsy tree branch to another. When he reached the end of a long branch, the red furry animal sprang out into mid air and landed in the next tree.

  “He's meaning to get out of sight before we get him,” Gracie said, smiling. “Only that ole squirrel don't know I ain't after him. At least not today, because I didn't bring my gun.”

  Shana gave her a disbelieving stare. “You shoot squirrels?”

  “Sure do. They're good to eat,” Gracie declared.

  Shana's look turned to scrutiny of Gracie's face. “Do you eat ever livin', breathin' animal there is?”

  “Probably not every one, but back in my young days, Papa was a hunter. When I was old enough, I hunted with him. That's how we had meat for the table. I grew up used to the taste of wild game,” Gracie explained. “Now do you know the difference in wild flowers when you see them?”

  “No, I don't.”

  “Well when you see a flower let me know. I'll tell you what it is. Most wild flowers are small and delicate compared to house yard flowers,” Gracie said, moving on.

  They went back to searching around their feet, not looking very far ahead.

  Shana squealed shrilly.

  “What's the matter? You see another squirrel?” Gracie asked. Shana didn't answer. Gracie hustled over to her. She shook the pale faced girl's shoulder. “Answer me. Did you step on a snake?”

  “They only come out at night. The American ones must have even more audacity than Irish ones.” Shana looked confounded as she pointed a shaky finger ahead of them.

  “What are you mumbling about?” Gracie looked in that direction, blinked and looked again. Off in the distance, she barely had time to get a quick glance at a small, white dressed figure. The child like form, in the shadows, seemed to rearrange its shape in the cool timber air. “Someone's out there,” she said in a hushed tone. “Did you get a good look? Let's go see if we can catch up to her.”

  “I got no better than you tis to be sure, but I don't want to catch up to her,” Shana whispered.

  “Why not? We should find out who it is roaming around in here.”

  “To be sure, you don't want to run into that during the day,” Shana said admittedly.

  “That what?” Gracie asked.

  “That will o wisp,” Shana said seriously.

  “What did you say?” Gracie asked.

  “A will o wisp. The spirit of a dead person. Usually, they only come out at night. They hide behind trees and float through the air. The size of that one makes me think it was the spirit of a child,” Shana said hoarsely.

  “That's nonsense,” Gracie gasped.

  Shana shook her head slowly no. “Don't you believe in the spirit world?”

  “There are enough things in this world to disturb us without seeing ghosts in the shadows of the night or day. You ever personally see a will o wisp?” Gracie asked, doubtfully.

  “Nope, but I have heard about them. People in Ireland see them all the time. Only it was always at night,” Shana said. “Me mother's brother, Patrick, saw one when he was comin' home late one night. A bright light floated before him. On a closer look, he saw the light was a lantern held by a glowin' little figure. Uncle Patrick followed for several miles. Curious he was, until he suddenly found himself standin' on the edge of a great chasm with a roaring torrent of water rushin' below him.

  Shana's voice became quieter as she kept her eyes glued to the trees ahead of them. “At that very moment, the lantern carrier leaped across the fissure, raised the light over its head and let out a malicious laugh. After which , the will o wisp blew out the light, leavin' the unfortunate man far from home. He was standin' in pitch darkness at the edge of a precipice. It took him most of the night to get up the courage to back away from the precipice and find his way home. Are we done mushroom huntin' now?”

  “We still got some time. Let's go look around. Maybe we can pick up the tracks of whoever that was,” Gracie said.

  “You can't be serious. I will not have anything to do with a will o wisp,” Shana cried.

  “Listen, what we saw was probably a live person. You're getting worked up over nothing, but we don't have to go after whoever it was. We can walk over a ways and turn back to the house if that makes you feel better,” Gracie said.

  Shana shook her head yes. “As long as we're headed in the opposite direction from the will o wisp.” She stopped walking. “Aunt Gracie, I just found a patch of wild flowers. You want to tell me about them.”

  Gracie inspected the small rectangle shaped area of droopy, wild flowers by Shana's feet. “That's right strange. Who makes a wild flower bed out here on purpose?”

  “How do you know someone did?”

  “Cause all the flowers are different kinds. Each of these wild flowers grow in a patch by themselves. That means someone dug these up from somewhere else and planted them all together here,” Gracie said. “Not too long ago, either. See how wilted they are. The plants haven't had time to take root yet.”

  “What kind be these?”

  “The smaller soft pink flowers are Dutc
hmen britches. Some say the flowers look like bloomers hung on a clothes line.”

  Shana squatted to study the flowers. “Sure and I do see that.”

  Gracie pointed to another flower. “This little purple and white one with the wide leaves is an orchid. They are rare. The taller ones in orange are lady slippers. Also, they are called jewel weed, because they sparkle when the dew is on them. They can be boiled, and the juice spread on poison ivy rash to stop the itch.” She lifted one of the wilted plants and looked under it at the darkened earth. The ground was wet. Gracie looked all around her and tilted an ear, listening.

  Shana asked in a shaky voice, “Wha'd you hear?”

  “Nothing but timber sounds right now. I have the feeling someone is watching us. Girl, those flowers have been watered recently. That wispy person we saw was doing that when we surprised her. She just might be standing close by watching us yet,” Gracie whispered.

  “That would be the will o wisp. I want to go back to the house now,” Shana said nervously.

  “I reckon that might be a good idea. You know it seems strange to me if the Indians have been here a while that we haven't run into them. I haven't even seen them along the timber edge since we've been here,” Gracie mused as she led the way back through the timber. “Wonder where they got off to.”

  “The will o wisp is enough to see for one day. I don't want to see Indians right now,” complained Shana. “I just want to go home.”

  Chapter Ten

  Gracie shaded her eyes to see where the sun was in the sky. If she was right about the time, she'd have time to help Melinda clean the mushrooms for lunch. It sure didn't take long to fry morels.

  They passed the pond and trudged over the pasture hill. Gracie noted the wild strawberry patch on the hill slope. She pointed the patch out to Shana. “See those ripe strawberries in that patch. This afternoon, we can pick them. I bet Melinda knows how to make a strawberry shortcake.”

  “For certain, that sounds purely good to me,” Shana agreed, brightening up.

  They came around the barn and found a horse tied to the hitching ring on the barn.

  Shana said, “We have company.”

  “More like Melinda has company,” grumbled Gracie.

  Shana gave her a serious look. “What does that mean?

  “That horse belongs to the man who pulled the deer's head out of the buggy when we first came here,” Gracie said.

  “Oh, yer boyfriend,” Shana said nonchalantly.

  Gracie blustered, “He isn't any such thing. Who told you that?”

  “Aunt Melinda told me you two were sweethearts years ago,” Shana said.

  “That woman talks entirely too much about things that aren't any of her business,” Gracie groused.

  To change the subject, Shana pointed to the clothes line. “Look, Aunt Melinda, washed clothes this morning.”

  “I see that,” Gracie said with disinterest. Her whole day was ruined now that she was going to have to put up with Millard at lunch time.

  When they walked into the kitchen, Millard was at the table, having a cup of coffee and talking to Melinda. She turned from the stove and asked, “Have any luck?”

  Gracie held up her pillow case to show them the bulge in it.

  “That looks like a good mess of mushrooms. Dump them in the dish pan. They will go well with lunch,” Melinda said. “Help yourself to the coffee and sit down. You must be tired from all that walking to find the morels.”

  “”Hello, Mr. Sokal,” Shana greeted as she plopped down beside him.

  “Howdy, youngun,” Millard returned.

  “Shana, you want a cup of hot cocoa?” Melinda asked.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Bring me the cocoa and that pitcher of milk from the pantry. I'll fix it for you,” Melinda said.

  Gracie could feel Millard watching her all the way to the stove. When she turned back to the table with her cup of coffee, he smiled at her.

  “Morning, Millard,” she said flatly.

  “Morning, Gracie. Miss Melinda invited me to stay for lunch. Hope that's all right?” Millard didn't look as though her opinion would bother him one way or the other.

  “I figured she might,” Gracie said, sitting down on the opposite end of the table.

  When Shana returned again, she sat by Millard and waited for Melinda to heat her cocoa.

  “How you enjoying your stay on the farm?” Millard asked the girl.

  “We had fun fishing. I have never been fishing before. Gracie's barn yard has the biggest, juiciest worms I've ever seen. The fish we caught really like eating them,” Shana said enthusiastically.

  “Do tell,” Millard exclaimed.

  “Some of the fattest worms were that long,” Shana said, holding her hands about six inches apart.

  “Dear, we really shouldn't talk about such things at the table,” Melinda cautioned.

  “Sorry I am.” Shana paused then added, “It's been fun here until we saw the will o wisp this morning,” Shana blurted out. “That for sure scared me.”

  Millard said, “The what?”

  “Shana, you might not ought to talk about that right now,” Gracie cautioned.

  “Go on, Shana. I'd like to hear about what you saw,” Millard encouraged.

  The way he grinned at Gracie, she was pretty sure he was egging Shana on, because Gracie tried to silence the child.

  “Spirit of dead people that roam in the woods are called will o wisps. We saw one this mornin'. They usually don't come out until after dark like the one in the storm.” Shana sounded frightened at the thought.

  Gracie set her cup down. “What did you see in the rainstorm?”

  Shana ducked her head to stare at her hot cocoa. “I hadn't meant to mention that will o wisp.”

  “Now that you have, you best be telling us about it,” Gracie ordered.

  “I got out of bed to look out the window at the storm. A will o wisp was standing by a tree at the beginning of the lane. She ran across the lane into the timber. It was raining too hard to make out much,” Shana said.

  Melinda stopped what she was doing and came to the table. Her face was pale. “Are these will o wisps transparent?”

  Shana paused to think about that.

  Melinda persisted, “I mean could you see through them?”

  “It was kind of hard to tell from where we were this morning. The one we saw kept dodgin' behind the trees to hide, but I think it was see through. They are supposed to be I know,” Shana answered.

  Gracie eyed Melinda. “You sound like you've seen a will o wisp in person.”

  “No, I haven't,” Melinda said, wadding the sides of her apron in her hands. “You two better not go back out to the timber. At least, not until after the sheriff comes out here.”

  “What's ailing you?” Gracie asked.

  “Shana's news is disturbing. That's all,” Melinda excused.

  “If you've never seen one of those spooks, how did you know what they look like?” Gracie asked.

  “Wait a minute! What's the sheriff coming out for?” Millard asked.

  “I asked Earl to tell him come look around. Someone dug a small spot up in my family cemetery. I didn't like seeing that,” Gracie said.

  “Why would anyone do that?” Millard asked.

  Gracie shrugged. “It looked like a small grave so might be for a baby.”

  “Tell Mr. Sokal about the woman we saw that night while we were pickin' up nightcrawlers,” Shana added.

  Gracie asked, “You know those fancy white dresses and white straw hats women are wearing these days? We saw a woman dressed that way, carrying a lantern in the timber after dark. She came through the timber and wound up in the cemetery. We slipped up close to see what was going on. This was after we found the small grave if that is what it is. I hollered I'd shoot if she didn't come to us, but she ran off anyway. We never could get close enough to catch up to her.”

  “Mr. Sokal, have you heard of a woman in the neighborhood that has lost a b
aby recently?” Melinda asked.

  Millard shook his head. “No, I haven't, but this sounds like a case of a woman who didn't want to let anyone know she lost her baby. She didn't expect Gracie to be in the cemetery before the grass grew over the spot she dug I expect.”

  “Sounds right. So maybe something bad happened to that baby, and that's why the woman is hiding the grave,” Gracie said. “Problem is, I wouldn't be the one to discover the body later on. That was the spot I was to be buried in. Whoever has to dig the grave for me would find the bones.”

  Shana looked sad as she listened to Gracie and sipped her cocoa.

  Melinda wondered if all the talk about dead babies, human bones and Gracie's demise was too much for the girl. Seeing spirits might have been the result of that. “Shana, I washed clothes this morning, but I didn't get the last basket full hung up. It's still on the porch. By the time I got the tubs emptied and the washboard put away, it was time to cook lunch. Want to go hang the clothes up on the line for me before we eat?”

  “Sure,” Shana said and drained her cup.

  When Melinda had the food on the table, she sat down. Gracie started to pick up a bowl. Melinda said, “I will say grace for the meal. Bow your heads.” Melinda prayed, “Dear Lord, Thank you for this wonderful day, and the company at this table.” She opened her eyes and saw Gracie glaring at her. She continued, “Bless this food we eat, and thank you for providing the mushrooms. Amen.”

  Gracie muttered, “This ain't no Sunday school meeting, and the Lord weren't much help hunting them mushrooms. Me and the girl did all the work to find them. I didn't hear us get any thanks.”

  Melinda said, “I'm sorry, Gracie. That was an oversight on my part. I want to thank you and Shana for finding all these good morels.” She winked at Shana, and the girl grinned at her.

  That afternoon, Shana offered to go pick the strawberries by herself while Gracie visited with Mr. Sokal and Melinda.

  Melinda worried, “I don't think you should go off by yourself until we know what's going on around here.”