Ghosts at Drayson Schoolhouse

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Ghosts at Drayson Schoolhouse Page 12

by Rick Suttle


  “What about it?”

  “I have it in my bag.”

  “Get it out,” I said.

  This was our last resort, and fortunately Sarah had sense enough to pack it in her bag. My copy was back with my notes.

  We’d never used an exorcism prayer to get rid of an evil spirit, but it was necessary in this case. Joseph’s spirit had been around for nearly eighty years, and he’d learned how to manipulate everything around him. He even learned how to make himself appear larger and scarier-looking than he was—and even change into different shapes. This was something Sarah had again warned me about on the way to the schoolhouse tonight. I now knew that Joseph had been the shadow in my room that night.

  Sarah handed me the prayer.

  “We’ll all have to recite it together,” I said. “It gives us more power. The print’s fairly large.”

  “I’ll turn the flashlight of my cell phone on,” said Mike.

  “Good, Mike,” I said.

  Joseph was coming. We heard the footsteps echoing through the stairwell. They seemed louder this time compared to last Sunday.

  Mike flipped his cell flashlight light on. I held the prayer in front of me. Sarah stood to my left, and Mike was on the other side of me.

  “Don’t stop praying, no matter what happens,” I said. The other two nodded.

  The footsteps clanged against the first few steps and got louder as the entity climbed the steps. It sounded as if the thing weighed a thousand pounds. It scaled the first flight of steps . . . then the second. The banging grew louder. A large shadow soon appeared on the wall at the bottom of the steps below. Then I saw the cloud of mist.

  The grayish white mist spread throughout the landing, then soared more than twenty feet up. It continued to rise up to the ceiling. And though we were on the third floor landing, we strained our necks as we looked up at the evil spirit.

  “Start reading,” I said, as the head of Joseph Wabbington emerged from the top of the towering cloud. He roared.

  We all read in unison:

  “St. Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle against the powers and principalities, against the evils, wickedness and snares of the devil.”

  The head grew larger. The entity growled. A sulfurous smell then permeated the hallway.

  “Keep going,” I shouted, as Mike and Sarah watched the head grow and lower itself toward us.

  “Come to the rescue of mankind, whom God Himself made in his own likeness and image, and purchased Satan’s tyranny at a great price.”

  My Ovilus beeped, then Joseph’s voice came through.

  “Leave . . . now . . . die!”

  “God venerates you as the patron and guardian of His Church. He has entrusted to you the task of leading mortal souls of the redeemed to heavenly blessedness. Entreat the Lord of peace to cast Satan and his followers under our feet, so as to keep him from holding man captive and doing his servants harm.”

  The head of Joseph was now as wide as the stairwell.

  “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

  We finished the St. Michael’s prayer and started the banishment plea.

  “We cast you out, unclean spirit, every satanic power, every onslaught of the infernal adversary . . .”

  The air stirred up and picked up force. It whipped through our hair and sent dirt flying around. A speck got in my eye. I blinked. My vision blurred. The paper in front of us rustled. Mike and Sarah grabbed the corners. The wind blew harder.

  “Go on,” said Sarah. She sounded as if she were twenty yards away.

  “. . . every legion, every diabolical group and sect, in the name and by the power of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

  “He’s breaking up,” said Sarah. “The ghost is getting smaller.”

  “He may be fooling us,” I said, as I skipped down a few lines, which I had circled. “Read the highlighted part.”

  “Leave unclean spirit. God the Father commands you . . . God the Son commands you . . . God the Holy Spirit commands you.”

  Joseph’s head started retreating. Then his real face came into view. Sarah held up her arm.

  “Wait.”

  “Joseph,” shouted Sarah, as we paused from our recitation. “I know you didn’t mean to harm those kids. You made an honest mistake when you got sick and left . . . and didn’t tell anyone where they were. It wasn’t your fault that the flood hit that day.”

  The mist started shrinking—first down to fifteen feet . . . then ten.

  “Fight the evil entity, Joseph. You must fight it.”

  “Again,” I shouted.

  “Leave unclean spirit. God the Father commands you . . . God the Son commands you . . . God the Holy Spirit commands you.”

  The mass continued shrinking.

  “Fight it, Joseph,” said Sarah. “You can do it.”

  We heard a loud swooshing sound. Then it was just Joseph standing there on the next landing down. I could tell he was still a spirit, but he now resembled the man he once was. He was weeping—with his head down and hand on his forehead.

  “I didn’t mean to punish them like that,” he said. His voice was so shallow, we could barely hear him. It sounded like a tinny echo in the stairwell, but a pause separated each word. Joseph looked up at us. Two tracks of tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “It was an old rule to send kids down to that room. They were talking when they shouldn’t have been. Everything people say about me is wrong. The children are just confused. I haven’t been holding them here. And it wasn’t me saying all those things. Something else was influencing me.”

  “We know, Joseph,” said Sarah.

  My heart sank—not only at being sad for Joseph, but realizing that we’d just exorcised a demon. Not us, but all the powers above that helped us. I was humbled.

  “Joseph. You are free to go. God knows your true heart.”

  “I hope so?”

  “He does.”

  “I’ve been here since my death in 1945. I was afraid to move on. Then that evil thing took control of me.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” said Sarah, her voice as sweet as I’d ever heard it. “Go to the light.”

  “I see it!” he exclaimed. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “Go to it and be free.”

  “Thank you.”

  Suddenly his entire form emitted a yellowish cast, then a bright stream of white light formed above him. Seconds later, he was swallowed up by the light and disappeared through the ceiling.

  “Oh, my God,” said Sarah, as she leaned forward and held her chest.

  “I grabbed her shoulder, fearing she may fall down the steps.

  “I’m okay,” said Sarah. “It’s just so emotionally draining.”

  “I know.”

  “Now, I’ve got to help the others move on. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 21

  We descended the stairwell and made our way down to the main basement hallway. The air down there seemed much lighter and fresher, which was typical when evil spirits departed. Mike and I followed Sarah into the boiler room.

  “Make sure you get that bottle before we leave,” said Sarah, pointing to it on the floor as she walked toward the far wall. Mike picked it up and placed it in the doorway as a reminder.

  Sarah went into her trance—head back and hands at her sides.

  “Theresa, are you here?” she said. Mike and I listened. The place was so silent we couldn’t hear a sound other than Sarah’s voice.

  “The man that was keeping you here is gone?” That is what the kid’s believed, which is why Sarah said it, though Joseph had informed us of his innocence.

  “Theresa.”

  I stood by Mike as our eyes stayed fixed on the wall, expecting to see mists appear in front of us like before. I was stunned when all nine children flashed before my eyes—all standing side by side and holding hands. The taller girl, Theresa, I assumed, stood in the middle.

  “Honey, you can go now,” said Sarah. “All of you. Go to the light.”

  The room sud
denly brightened as a brilliant white light appeared near the ceiling to Sarah’s right. Theresa then walked forward until she was within a foot of my sister. The ghost girl smiled as she placed her phantom hand on Sarah’s cheek and caressed it. She then backed away and joined hands again with the two kid’s next to her.

  “Thank you,” Theresa said. Her shallow and sweet voice echoed at a low volume. It sounded as if she were speaking through a tunnel. All the children then smiled, looked to the light and vanished through it.

  Sarah had tears in her eyes when I approached.

  “That was amazing,” said Mike. “She touched your cheek, Sarah. What did it feel like?”

  “Like I placed my face in a cool stream of water. It was wonderful.”

  Sarah picked up the bottle of salt water and Mike and I grabbed the cameras, stands and REM-Pod. Though we had just witnessed a miracle, none of us wanted to come back down here. We walked down the basement hallway toward the elevator.

  “It doesn’t work,” said Mike, after tapping it a couple times.

  “It will,” said Sarah. She smiled.

  “But . . .”

  The light went on before Sarah touched it, then the elevator door opened.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I’ve got friends in high places,” said Sarah. She smiled again as we ascended to the main floor.

  We walked down the back hallway toward the annex. Just as we approached the main hallway, I glanced to my left and saw more than forty spirits appear—mostly women and children. They were scattered down the hallway all the way to the main intersecting hallway, which they couldn’t pass through. Sarah had sealed it earlier with salt and Holy water.

  “Look,” I said. Sarah was already walking toward the nearest ghosts—two women. Mike and I followed.

  “Are you the two women who appeared to me earlier?” said Sarah. The one nodded.

  “How did you die?”

  The brunette and blonde looked at each other, then back at Sarah.

  “They’re not speaking,” said Sarah. “I’ll have to try communicating with them telepathically.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and placed her hands in front of her—palms facing down. I felt a bit spooked with all the other spirits behind us, as they waited for the women to communicate. Mike was trembling.

  It took more than five minutes for Sarah to determine what happened.

  “They died during a bank robbery,” she said. “They were waiting in line when a man came in and shot them. Everyone in the bank was killed. They’re from the early 1800s. Settlers’ wives.”

  That made sense because Ohio became a state in 1803.

  The women looked down as Sarah revealed the circumstances surrounding the murder.

  “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to haunt me earlier.” Sarah walked over and faced the other spirits.

  “I’m sorry that you all had to suffer in some way—in this school or on the grounds,” she said. “But you are no longer bound to this place. Go to the light when you see it. You will find peace.”

  One by one the spirits started vanishing into a funnel of light through the ceiling. The two women were the last to depart. They left the world at the same time. When they disappeared, we headed toward the annex hallway.

  “What about the two teachers?” said Mike. “One was died in 1924 and the other in 1928.”

  “They’re probably one of the three I saw in the background,” said Sarah. “I sensed that they were old and died for that reason.”

  We had just turned the corner when we saw two large male spirits—both with beards and suspenders.

  “This is Byron and Errol Ferguson,” said Sarah. The two ghosts smiled. “Errol was a cofounder of the school and served as assistant schoolmaster under Byron.”

  “Twins,” said Mike.

  “That’s right.”

  “But how did you know about Errol?” I said.

  “When I disappeared into the mist last week. He told me who he was, but then rushed me back to the annex when the evil spirit appeared. They were trying to protect me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I had to protect Errol from Joseph. And I had to protect us as well. Joseph would’ve been at lot angrier if he found out I knew who Errol was. And who knows what he might’ve done to us.”

  “Do they know it wasn’t really Joseph?” I asked.

  “Yes.” The two were nodding when I looked at them.

  Sarah glanced at Mike and me, and then gazed at the two men. She told us that it was Errol who had tried to get our attention when we ran from the annex that first day. He was so excited about helping the children and getting out of this place. But he was also trying to distract Joseph after he caused that uproar—the desks and chairs flying and all—so he wouldn’t chase us.

  “I’m sorry,” said Errol, his voice echoing through the anterior annex hallway.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m just glad we could help you.”

  “Well, gentlemen, you’re the last ones here,” said Sarah. She looked down at her feet, then raised her head back up.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been stuck here for more than a century. But it’s time for you to move on. Can you see the light?”

  Both spirits nodded.

  “Good,” said Sarah. “I wish you peace for an eternity.”

  The men looked up as a bright light opened up in the ceiling. They raised their arms, looked at each other and smiled, then vanished into the ceiling. The light remained for several seconds after they left, then extinguished.

  “Are you sure that’s it,” said Mike.

  “The others will find their way if any remain,” said Sarah. “But our job is done here.”

  CHAPTER 22

  I was surprised to see that it was already three a.m. when we got back to the office. I would’ve guessed half that time had elapsed. We were all exhausted and mentally drained as we sat down at the meeting table and had a snack and soft drink from the cooler.

  I glanced at the laptops and saw that all but one of the remaining cameras were still functioning. The one in the annex hallway was off. I drank some Diet Dew and took a bite of my roast beef sandwich. Sarah was already on her third Coke.

  Mike was slumped in his chair with his eyes closed. His root beer was near the end of the table ready to fall on the floor. Sarah reached over and slid it up and in front of Mike.

  “There’s one thing I still don’t understand,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why was the dumbwaiter stuck in the basement?”

  “The young boy died in it. He died about twenty years before the other eight children.”

  “Really?” I was stunned.

  “Theresa said he got stuck in the dumbwaiter and starved to death. He’d been missing and the cops found him after a Christmas holiday. The dumbwaiter hasn’t worked since.”

  “How old was he?”

  “About six,” said Sarah. “He was on the far left end when they appeared to us earlier. He kept calling for his mommy.”

  “He must’ve been one of the children talking through you. But why would he call for his mother?”

  “He died before his parents. Sometimes children who stay behind to resolve certain issues feel the separation from their parents, who are often long dead themselves.”

  “That’s awful,” I said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  We rested for an hour before collecting and packing up the cameras and REM-Pods. I turned all inside security lights on so we could see without night-vision goggles. I had to nudge Mike before we started. He was still asleep and snoring.

  “What?”

  “We’re going to get all the equipment.”

  “Jeez. What time is it?” Mike reached for his cell in his pocket.

  “Four.”

  We collected all the hallway cameras and I placed them in my utility bag. Mike put the REM-Pods in a couple of cardboard boxes. We used a dolly we had found in the ja
nitor’s closet. Mike had discovered that it was unlocked this week.

  While Mike and Sarah ventured over to the cafeteria and locker rooms to collect the cameras and REM-Pods, I walked to the annex hallway. When I turned the corner, I saw crumbled ceiling tiles scattered across the floor. And the camera had been knocked down. It probably happened when Joseph, or whatever entity possessed him, ran after us.

  I opened the door to the interior annex hallway, walked back to the rear classroom and opened the door to the corridor. Several sides of the walls had been bashed in. And a camera I placed back there was destroyed. The wall damage was even worse farther back past the office, where the construction workers were remodeling. It wasn’t until I walked back to the rear classroom that I noticed all the desks, tables and chairs on the floor. The other window had also been busted.

  I met up with Sarah and Mike in the main hallway after grabbing the other camera in the annex—the one that still worked. They walked alongside the dolly as I pushed it toward the front door. Bill peeked his head out just as Sarah grabbed the doorknob.

  “Did you get rid of the ghosts?” he said—eyes widened, hands on hips.

  “Yes, we did, Bill,” said Sarah.

  “I was going to come back and help you, but I got busy with something else.”

  Sarah walked over to the big man, reached up and patted his shoulder.

  “That’s okay, Bill. We handled it okay.” She grinned as she turned and opened the door. Bill was still standing there with his mouth open as we carried the first load of equipment to my Jeep.

  Joyce showed up at eight. She was supposed to meet us at seven. We were seated at the meeting table when she arrived.

  “Sorry, kids. I got stuck in traffic across town.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  She glanced and Sarah and Mike, who were sleeping with their heads on their forearms, then looked at me.

  “So is everything okay now?” She gazed up at the lights and around the room, then back at me. I assumed she was expecting them to start blinking.

  “Yes, the spirits are gone.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said. “I can’t think you enough.”

 

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