The Ghosts of Hanson House: A Haunting In Kingston Novella (The Hauntings of Kingston Book 5)

by Michelle Dorey

  “It’s like something out of a movie! I’ll go!” The words burst out of Lily’s mouth and for a moment the shyness she wore like a shell was gone.

  Emma barely dared to breathe. This had all gotten out of hand so quickly with Barry’s story. Was she the sole voice of reason there? She pictured her Grandpa’s face. “I don’t know—”

  “I wouldn’t advise going there on your own.” Barry ignored Emma and sat back, taking a long sip of his drink to finish the can off. He was really playing it up, the big shot trying to impress Grace.

  Emma sighed. Still...if she was honest with herself, she had to admit she was curious. Julia was right. It was something right out of a novel or scary movie. Who knew when she’d ever get the chance to do anything like it again? Had her father ever gone over there with a bunch of guys on a dare, like Barry? She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him yet but now that she’d heard this, she was worried that he would feel the same way that Grandpa did and forbid it. That wouldn’t be fair! She could just bet that her Dad had gone over to the Hanson house when he was Barry’s age, for sure! Even so, it would be best to avoid the topic when she spoke to him later that night.

  Anyway, what could it hurt to just go there, stand at the gate or even get close to the house? They didn’t have to go inside. She looked over at Julia. Her sister’s eyes were like marbles, popping out on her cheeks it seemed. Even Lily was keen on this, leaning forward, her shyness forgotten.

  “Will you go with us? I mean, you’ve been there and for sure, I want to go.” Grace reached out and covered Barry’s hand.

  In a flash his hand flipped over and he held Grace’s fingers. Even though he’d played the story up, hoping to get next to Grace, Emma had to admit that she was also hooked by now.

  She turned to Julia and Lily. “You can’t tell Grandpa or Nana if we do this. And you two can’t go inside. You’ll have to stay at the gate and watch. Is that clear?”

  “We won’t tell, don’t worry. When can we go?” Julia looked around the table at everyone.

  Grace pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her shorts and peered at the small screen. “It’s too late to go now. By the time we get back Nana will have dinner started. How about tomorrow afternoon?”

  Barry looked up at his brother and smiled. “We could be finished our chores at noon if we get an early start. What do you say?”

  Mike shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” He looked at Emma and a small smile flashed on his lips. “We can meet up with you there after lunch.”

  Any second thoughts about going over to the old Hanson farm that Emma might have had vanished when Mike looked at her, his smile warm and friendly. It would be okay if they just took a peek. Besides, Mike would be there along with his brother. What harm could come of it as long as Grandpa didn’t find out?

  Chapter 7

  After Emma waved goodbye to her grandfather the next day, the ham sandwich and milk she’d had at lunch felt like a congealed mass in her stomach. A few times that morning she’d toyed with the idea of calling it off, even telling Nana. But in the end her curiosity and the prospect of seeing Mike kept her silent, complicit in the plan to sneak over to the Hanson house from the beach front. She was just as bad as Grace when it came down to it; both of them lied about their plans and sneaking around. That realization didn’t cheer her.

  She pedaled hard to catch up with the other three, skimming past Frank who stood in the back corner of the yard next to his trailer. She could feel his eyes bore through her and she forced a smile, trying to shed the suspicion that he knew what they were up to. She was probably giving him too much credit. It was a gorgeous summer day and of course there was every reason in the world that they would be going to the beach to swim and cool off. She was probably just being silly, thinking he knew.

  At a bend in the path, her sister and cousins disappeared behind the fields of hay and barley swaying in the breeze. Thank goodness they had grown as high as they were; they had a better chance of not being seen by Grandpa or Frank when they cut across the far side of the field to visit the Hanson house.

  When she rounded the bend, the rock beach and lake came into view. Julia stood next to her bike looking back and beckoning for Emma to hurry up. Grace and Lily walked their bikes along the edge of the grass before the rounded stones of the beach started. Emma looked back where they’d come from and blew a sigh through pursed lips. The top of Grandpa’s two story house and the roof of the barn were just barely visible from the beachfront. There was no way their grandparents would be able to see them. Besides, they’d be too busy with chores to pay them any mind.

  “Wait up!” Emma pushed the bike faster to catch up with Grace and Lily.

  Beside her, Julia wore a grin. “Did you bring the phone to get some pictures? I can’t wait to tell Jessica and Sophie about this! They’ll want to see pictures.”

  “No! You can’t tell anyone about this, Julia! If you tell them, they’ll tell their parents and pretty soon Mom and Dad will know.” Sometimes Julia didn’t think things through. Emma stared long and hard at her sister. “Dad would be mad about this. I just know it.”

  Julia sighed. “Okay. You’re no fun but you’re probably right.” Her eyes narrowed and she edged closer. “How do we know for sure that we can trust Grace or Lily? They might tell and then it will get back to Dad.”

  Emma sighed. “That’s the chance we have to take.” She looked up ahead at her cousins. “We don’t have to do this if you’re worried. We can always go back to the beach and go swimming.” Even though she’d miss seeing Mike and the creepy house, at least it would be honest. Plus, she wasn’t entirely convinced now that Julia would be able to keep the secret.

  “No way! This is a lot more fun that swimming. Besides, we can do that tomorrow.” Julia grinned and raced ahead before Emma could answer her.

  Grace and Lily let their bikes fall to the side and then started walking away from the waterfront through the field of tall grass. Julia was right behind them, the grass tugging at her legs as she hastened to keep up. The plan was to double back towards the Hanson house along the beach and then cut across.

  Emma took a deep breath and hurried along. The day was bright with not a cloud in the sky. Seagulls screamed as they swooped over the water trying to spot fish near the surface. There was hardly a breeze to break the stillness and heat of the day. If they had to pick a day to visit the creepy old Hanson house, this was as good as any they’d be likely to get.

  She dropped her bike next to Julia’s and ran through the field, trying to stay on the trail of bent and broken grass that the other three had forged. She peered ahead at the old farmhouse, at the tall tree next to it, the branches like arms extending over the rust pitted roof. Whatever coating of paint that once covered the wooden frame showed only in some places, a lighter shade than the greyed ancient clapboard. From this angle, an outbuilding could be seen, crouching low behind the main house.

  Emma’s eyes flickered quickly over the grass that sprouted in the back yard, wild and raggedy, bare earth showing through in places. After she climbed over the wire fence, entering the main property of the Hanson house the air became silent as a tomb. No bird cries or even flies buzzed in the fetid air; it was as if they were warned to keep away.

  “This place is seriously creepy.” Grace’s voice was barely above a whisper when she peered over at Emma. The four girls stood close together, near the fence, poised to bolt at the first odd sight or sound from the house.

  “Do you think Mike and Barry are here yet?” Julia sidled closer to Emma but craned her neck to see around the house to the front driveway.

  “They’re not here.” Lily’s voice was flat and her eyes were wide circles staring up at the second story window.

  The hair on the back of Emma’s neck tingled when she gazed at Lily. What was up with her? It was like she was in a trance or something, staring at the house. Her tone of voice had the ring of certainty, totally unlike her normal, hesitant self.

  “C�
�mon. Let’s go around to the front.” Grace led the way, keeping close to the fence, while her eyes were trained on the house. Her hands clasped her arms below the shoulder and she rubbed her bare skin briskly, even though the day was hot.

  Emma brought up the rear as they walked single file. A couple of the upstairs windows were broken, the shattered glass looking like a spider’s web clinging to the frames. The downstairs ones were boarded up, hiding the macabre secrets, guarding the inside from intruders. Though the gingerbread trim was missing in places, the swirls that were left clung like bats to the peaked soffits on the under-hang of the roof. Scanning the building, she guessed the house had four or five bedrooms from the size of it. But now, the only residents were probably spiders and mice...creepy enough, in and of itself.

  “Oops! Sorry!” Julia jerked back from where she’d bumped into Lily.

  Lily had stopped, standing stock still, squinting up at a dark window. She stepped closer to the house, still peering intently.

  “What? Did you see something?” Emma’s heart beat fast in her chest. She looked where Lily was staring, trying to see what it was. There was only a stained curtain caught on a shard of glass in the otherwise dark hole in the house.

  She took a deep breath. This was eerie, yes, but she was probably getting spooked out by the stories she’d heard. It was only a house after all. Sure, people had died there but that happened in lots of old houses way back when. Lots of people probably died at home. That was life. Right?

  Lily stepped back to the fence. “No, I guess not. But it looked like someone was there for a moment. Just from the side of my eye I saw something move.” Her mouth was set in a straight line as she hurried to catch up with her sister.

  Julia turned and her eyebrows bobbed high gazing at Emma. The usual smile was gone from her face. She was as puzzled and uneasy as Emma was with the house and Lily’s odd behaviour.

  Grace stood at the gate at the end of the driveway focusing her cell phone to take a picture of the front of the house. Lily had been right. Barry and Mike were nowhere to be seen.

  Emma stepped close to her sister and stared at the boarded up door and the front step which was weather beaten and slanting low at one side. It wouldn’t take much for the whole step to tear away from the house if someone walked on it. This was starting to feel like a really bad idea. She glanced over at Grace. “Now what? Should we leave?”

  “What do you mean? The guys will be here soon. We’re probably early.” Her pink glossed lips curled in a sneer before she strode away, walking closer to the house. She held the phone up, pointing it at the upper floor getting photos from different angles. “If those walls could talk, huh?”

  “So much pain and fear...” Lily spoke softly gazing up at the second floor windows. “That’s the story they’d tell. Those poor children. What could be worse than dying at the hands of your mother?”

  Emma’s head swiveled and she stared at her cousin. “How did you find out about that?” Barry hadn’t said anything about the mother killing her kids. Even Nana hadn’t been sure that’s what happened.

  Lily turned and there were tears in her eyes. “Can’t you hear them? The whispers in the air...their voices?”

  Emma felt a chill go down her spine like a million ants skittering on her skin. She couldn’t say anything for a few moments as she stared at Lily. She shivered and then took a deep breath. There had to be some explanation for Lily knowing about the family. Probably Grace had told her what Nana had said.

  “I don’t hear anything. Even the cicadas are quiet.” Julie looked over at the tree and then around the brush growing at the other side of the property. “You’d think there’d be at least a crow or two. There’s always birds at a farm, right? But here, there’s nothing.”

  “Hey there!” It was a deep voice coming from behind, down the long laneway.

  Emma spun around. She felt her muscles relax seeing Barry and Mike pedal up the road, stopping short on the other side of the gate. Mike flashed a smile at her before shrugging the straps of his knapsack from his shoulders. He set the bike on its side and strode forward.

  “Sorry, we’re late.” Barry pushed the gate open enough to slip through and ambled over to where Grace stood. He was also carrying a knapsack.

  “That’s okay. We haven’t been here long. I’ve been getting some good shots of the place.” Grace watched Barry reach in his knapsack and bring out a small pry bar. “Good. I’m glad you thought to bring that.”

  He smiled and winked at her. “Just like the boy scouts... be prepared.”

  Emma sighed and then looked up at Mike. “We’re really going to do this, I guess.” When he nodded, she looked over at Julia and Lily. Julia’s face was pale and she clutched the wire fence with white knuckles but Lily looked kind of dazed, looking up at the upper story of the house. Emma stepped closer to the two girls. “You two stay here. We’ll just take a quick look and then we’ll be right back.”

  She turned and walked slowly over to the front step to join Grace. The squeal of nails giving up their hold in the wood pierced the quiet when Barry reefed on the pry bar. The high pitched noise went straight through Emma’s core and she covered her ears with her hands.

  Barry tossed the wide board onto the grass behind him and turned to begin on the next one. “Almost got it,” he said as he began pulling at the bottom edge of the board. With a grunt he yanked on the board but this time, instead of coming cleanly away, it split in two. His knuckles snagged across the wood and he yelped, dropping the pry bar. He shook his hand, splattering drops of blood over the step.

  Emma’s gaze flew to meet Grace’s. This was a bad sign. Grandpa had warned them they’d get hurt and already it had happened. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

  Grace scowled and shook her head. “Don’t be silly. The board was rotten, that’s all.” She reached into the pocket of her jean shorts and handed Barry a tissue. “Here you go. That’ll have to do until you get home.”

  Mike stepped by Emma and picked up the pry bar from the step. “Here. Let me have a go at it.” He wedged it into the crack between the board and the door frame and gave it a sharp yank, pulling the broken piece of wood away.

  “Frigging board! I’ve probably got splinters an inch deep!” Barry held his hand up. Red began to spread through the white tissue wrapped around his fingers. His mouth was a tight line until he looked at Grace and his expression thawed.

  “Are you all right?” Julia called from the fence, fifty feet away.

  Grace turned and motioned with her hand, dismissing her cousin’s concern. At the thud of the board falling Emma peered past Grace and saw Mike stand back and shoot a grin of satisfaction her way waving the pry bar like a trophy. Her stomach was a tight hard knot watching the door and Mike’s efforts. In a few minutes, he turned and tossed the last of it away.

  “Ready?” Mike waggled his eyebrows at Emma.

  Her heart beat fast looking at the scarred wooden door. Even if she didn’t believe in all that supernatural stuff, it was still a scary prospect, going in there. What if they fell through the floor? But she knew that it was more than that. Face it. The place was seriously creepy. She crossed her arms and shivered for a moment.

  Grace gave her a look bordering on contempt and stepped by Mike. She grabbed the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open wide. Dust motes floated, catching the light in the dank, musty air. A rotten smell of decay drifted into Emma’s nostrils and she grimaced. Once more Grace raised her cell phone, although it was hard to say if she’d get any shots. The place was almost totally dark, except for the beam of light shining down the stairwell from the upstairs window.

  Emma followed closely on Mike’s heels. He had taken a flashlight from his back pack and held it low, so they could see better. She kept her arms crossed, her hands rubbing her upper arms for warmth. It wasn’t just the damp chill in the house that made her cold, it was knowing the horrifying history. She peered at the landing in the stairwell, seeing the dark s
tain there that Barry had described the day before—the place where her grandpa’s friend had died.

  Her footsteps were slow and careful going forward to the archway where Grace had stepped through. Mouldy woodwork and patches of stained plaster showed through the walls, made her recoil from brushing against it.

  “That’s wierd.” Grace’s voice broke the silence. “What’s a milk can doing in the living room?”

  Emma, still clutching her arms tight to her body, stepped through the archway, her eyes drawn to where Grace was taking pictures. She almost jumped out of her skin when Barry spoke.

  “Wait till you see the kitchen! The plates are still on the table! Just like the last supper!” He had gone through towards the rear of the house.

  She grimaced at his words before once more, gazing around the room. The fact that the furniture was still there made the house creepy enough, let alone dinner plates left on the table! Grace slipped by her, to join Barry at the back of the house.

  Emma was standing just inside the doorway. Mike touched her arm gently. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”

  “F...fine,” she lied. She turned to follow Grace to the back of the house. She just wanted to get this over with and get back out into the bright sunshine, where she could breathe better. The air felt thick, like it was lying against her skin and she shuddered.

  Barry shone his flashlight around the dim kitchen, highlighting the plates on the table and the pots still sitting on the stove.

  “This has been here since the 1920’s!” he said. “Shouldn’t it look... I don’t know... messier or something?” The beam of his flashlight played over a half loaf of bread and a bowl of what had to had been mashed potatoes that were on the counter.

  “That’s crazy, Barry,” Emma said. “Even if it was in the refrigerator, it would be covered in mold in just a few weeks.” She had gotten in trouble at home last Fall when she stashed a slice of pizza at the back of the fridge and forgot about it until it started to smell two weeks later.