Hauntings

by Lewis Stanek

  “This brings back memories, such good memories, from before the war.” Heinrich remarked while adding a couple of bread dumplings to his plate.

  “You were close to the family then?” Randal asked, encouraging Heinrich to continue.

  “Theadora, I mean the baroness had a way of making the help feel appreciated as if they were part of the family, or family friends. The baron though was always all business when dealing with the help. It was “do this and do it now” with the baron and you had better not forget it, if you knew what was good for you.”

  “Some people don't spend the time to get to know who works for them and treat their employees like emotionless robots.” Randal offered in reply.

  “The baron, wasn't that bad, but he did treat us like his servants without any regard for any of us as individuals. I don't think I would have stayed here as long as I did, if it was just the baron. I think I would have rather worked in the coal mines, but baroness Theadora would show she appreciated you and the things you did for her, she is the reason I stayed as long as I did. She was truly a lady of grace.”

  “The baron must have had something going for him.” Ozzie stated “Otherwise, why would such a fine woman stay with him?” He asked.

  “That is a question I asked myself many times, my young friend, many times.” Heinrich replied taking his seat at the table. He shook out the folded linen napkin at his table setting and laid it upon his lap.

  “You know more about the castle than any of us, Heinrich, Tell us what we can expect here tonight.” Bridget asked taking a sip of her wine. Randal was still at the buffet filling his diner plate with pickled beef and dumplings. Heinrich's reply caught him off guard.

  “We can expect nothing less than the supernatural tonight. That is what I expect and that is why I allowed you to come and stay with me here. I must admit I fear I would die of fright at the first manifestation of the baron if I were here alone.” Heinrich confessed sheepishly. “I hope you all will join me in the parlor later to experiment with Theadora's planchette.”

  “Planchete?” Randal questioned.

  “Yeah, it is like an accessory to a Ouija board. They used those to talk with the dead back in the olden days. There is a place to insert a pencil so the spirit can write what it wants to say.” Bridget replied.

  “I know that the townsfolk think this house has been abandoned all these years and in a sense I suppose it has, but every night the baroness would come back to the castle, go into her parlor and use her planchette to commune with the baron.

  “When I was a kid we had an Ouija board at home, at first we thought it was just a silly game, but you would be surprised at some of the things it said, some of the things it knew. It was downright spooky. After a couple of scary nights my mother forbid us to ever use it again and threw it out, but I snuck out and dug it out of the trash and hid it in my room before the garbage men could get it. I would bring it out whenever I had a slumber party, or if I needed to know if my boyfriend was seeing someone else.” You would be amazed how accurate the Ouija could be sometimes. When my mother found it under my mattress, she had a fit and burned it in the fire pit in our back yard.”

  “So that was the end to that, huh?” Ozzie asked.

  “You would think so, but it wasn't. The Ouija board was gone, but the spirits who used it were still there and they were angry. Our house was infested with poltergeists after that. It was the beginning of our own personal haunting,”

  “Surely you're being a little melodramatic.” Randal said setting his plate at the table and taking a seat with the others.

  “You think so? You weren't there, Randal. You didn't live it like I did. Maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, but it is my life, my experience. I know what happened.” Bridget replied angry with Randal for doubting her word. She looked to her plate and focused on moving her food around on her plate, pouting.

  “I'm sorry Bridget, you're right, I wasn't there, I don't know what happened.”

  “One would think you'd be glad to have someone with a little experience in the paranormal with us on our little adventure.” Heinrich opined.

  “I didn't mean any insult. I didn't know, How could I know?” Randal replied weakly.

  “Let's not let this spoil our meal.” Heinrich said, “Later tonight I want to use Theadora's table and planchette to attempt to communicate with her. I am hoping we can have a successful séance of our own here tonight in Theadora's private parlor.” Randal forced himself to swallow his food. It is one thing to come to an alleged haunted house and explore a bit maybe even spend the night, but having a séance, that is simply poking a bee hive with a stick. Randal thought.

  “This was something I wanted to do ever since the baroness died, but to be honest I was too frightened to do it alone, but then you three came along. What do you call it? Ah serendipity, that's the word! Serendipity, a fortunate surprise and here we are new friends starting out on a new adventure.” Heinrich sounded sincerely happy to be here.

  “Heinrich, is there something you aren't telling us about this old house?” Ozzie asked between bites of food.

  “What can I say about Castle Reuversweerd? True there is more to tell than I have told you, but where would I begin. It's not that I'm trying to keep anything from you, but you see the castle has been part of my life for many years. I know it well, perhaps too well to know what is important to share with you and what can be left unsaid.” Heinrich took a sip of his wine and continued. “Many stories have been told of this house over the years. People disappear and it gets blamed on the house, imagine that, huh. How is a house, even if it is called a castle going to make someone vanish? People claim they see movement in the windows at night, that they hear screams coming from Reuversweerd at odd hours. It is all nonsense and bunk.”

  “You said we are going to have a séance here tonight, how can you say it is all nonsense and bunk if you believe in seances?” Randal asked.

  “Randal, some things are obvious nonsense and bunk, while others are actual events, the trick is to know the difference and act accordingly. That the baroness held her seances here almost every night to visit with the baron, I'm certain is true, but screams and people disappearing that is just poppycock the townsfolk made up to scare themselves out of their doldrums. You will see, we all will in time. Enough about this old place. Let's get to know each other a little better before nightfall. How about you start, Randal, what can you tell us about yourself?” Randal poured myself a second glass of wine, then nodded and began.

  “You all know my name is Randal Carter, until recently I was a sergeant in the United States Army. I've been deployed and redeployed into the middle east and have seen more senseless death and destruction than a man should have to. When my time came up, I knew I wasn't ready to go back to the world. I wouldn't fit, not anymore. I'm not the person I once was. Any way I remembered my grandfather telling me he went for a walking tour after WWI before going home to Holland and I got the bright idea of going on one myself before returning to the United States. I'm hoping it gives me time to relax and consider where I am going to go from here and what I am going to do with my life.”

  “So you're a soldier, but that can't be all you are.” Bridget said with a wink. The light was beginning to dim, and Heinrich lit the candles in the candelabra on the table providing a warm glow and sense of intimacy to the evening's milieu.

  “What about you, Bridget?” Ozzie asked saving Randal from unwanted probing, he was grateful to have the attention taken off of him and placed squarely on Bridget.

  “Nothing exciting about my life. I'm just a poor little rich girl taking a break from school to roam Europe for a while.”

  “What are you studying in school?” Randal asked, leaning forward.

  “Art, I've been studying at the Art Institute for the last two years. I'm taking time to find myself, artistically speaking, that is. Do I want to go the commercial route and make money using my skills to sell unneeded and unwanted products to the masses,
or do I want to go my own way and create for art's sake alone?”

  “Which way are you leaning?” Ozzie asked.

  “I'm leaning towards enjoying myself until life forces me to grow up and be responsible.” She replied with an ingratiating smile.

  “Now, that sounds like a plan to me.” Ozzie replied.

  “What about you Ozzie?” Randal asked between bites of roast.

  “I honestly don't know. I realize I will have to grow up and live a productive life at some point, but I'm not ready yet. I've been hoping something would catch my interest, like art has called to Bridget, but so far nothing has so I've spent the past year scrounging around doing whatever I had to to support my traveling make as far as I can. My father says I'm running away from adulthood, maybe I am. I know I can always work for my father when I'm ready to settle down, but seriously who wants to settle down? That's enough about me” Ozzie said with a smile, “How about you Heinrich, what is you story?”

  “Ozzie, Bridget, and even you Randal, with all your military experience behind you, are all still only starting out in life. Your lives stand before you waiting for you to take the next step into your personal futures facing the unknown, hopefully living your dreams and achieving you goals. For me, the greater part of my life is behind me. The only unknown I have yet to face is that which we all must face at one point or another, that being death. I am an old man, my friends, family and loves have all preceded me into the unknown. I grow curious and am impatient to learn what lies beyond this life. That is why I am here with you. I suppose I could have done this alone, but honestly I am afraid of what I might find. I am not here for kicks, I'm here to take a peek at the next step in my life.”

  “I've seen enough of death, Heinrich, I can tell you that it is the end, there is nothing coming afterwards, you die and that is it.” Randal blurted out.

  “That is a bit cold, Randal.” Bridget scolded.

  “There is no way you can know that for certain,” Heinrich continued, “no matter how many deaths you have seen in battle, no matter how many men you have killed, you cannot know for sure. Randal, I have seen war myself, death has not been a stranger to me, but I hope and pray that it is not simply the end of existence. There must be something more. God willing, maybe we will find out for ourselves tonight.” Heinrich replied then swallowed the last of his wine.

  “I for one, believe that life after death makes perfect sense.”

  “Is that so, Bridget?” Ozzie questioned.

  “Without a doubt, I experienced some things using the Ouija board before my mother burned it, and experienced even more afterwards. If it wasn't the spirits of the dead, I don't even want to consider What it could have been.”

  “There are more things in this universe of ours than we would care to admit, that is for certain.” Heinrich replied.

  Séance Privee

  After the sun set, Heinrich gathered the foursome together in the baroness' private parlor. Although the room had obviously been recently cleaned and deodorized it still smelled of ancient dust and decay. An ornately framed mirror covered the wall above the fireplace. Heinrich lit the candles placed on the mantle providing a little light to the room. It felt unseasonable cold.

  “Is just it me, or is it cold in here?” Bridget asked cupping her hands in front of her mouth to capture a little warmth. “Look I can see my breath.”

  “It's not you, I feel it too.” Ozzie replied.

  “It is a cold spot!”Heinrich exclaimed with joy. “The spirits are with us here already.”

  “Spirits or not, I'm going to get a fire going in the fireplace.” Randal said ambling over to the fire place looking for something to burn.

  “Suit yourself, Randal. I want you all to be as comfortable as you can be tonight.” Heinrich replied. “Please take a seat at the table. I've arranged the chairs for the four of us.” he continued. Randal busied himself carefully placing split dry wood he found beside the hearth on the iron grate in the the fireplace.

  “Heinrich, do you have any paper or something I can use for kindling to get this fire going?”

  “Sure, sure there is paper. Here take this.” Heinrich said handing an old newspaper he had grabbed from an end table next to a delicately embroidered wingback chair. “This was her favorite chair. Theadora would come here late at night sometimes to read, sometimes just to be alone with her thoughts, and of course for her seances. I've been told that on one occasion she had that table dancing about the room like a gazelle, but that of course is only hearsay. Although, it is, something I wish I was here to witness.”

  “After my mother burned our Ouija board, our home was plagued by poltergeists, doors slammed, furniture moved, the lights came on and went off by themselves, it wasn't fun.” Bridget replied gazing off into space.

  “You didn't by any chance bring any liquid spirits along to prime the pump and lubricate our little séance, did you Heinrich?” Ozzie asked.

  “Maybe later, Ozzie afterwards maybe. I'm sure we all will want to have our wits about us for the next few hours.”

  Randal held a match to the crumpled paper under the grate and waited for the paper to ignite. The paper blossomed into warm amber flame under the wood he had found neatly stacked next to the fireplace and had carefully placed on the fireplace grate. The wood had waited years for this night and was thoroughly dry and responded well to the flame of the newspaper in kind and quickly lit providing both warmth and comfort to the little band of paranormal explorers.

  “There.” Randal said pleased with himself at successfully taking at least a little control back into his own hands and lighting the fire. The group now basking in the warm glow of the flickering fire, subliminally noticed, yet chose to ignore unnatural shadows undulating about the walls. Randal ambled to the table and seated himself next to Bridget. Ozzie sat across from Randal and to Bridget's left. Heinrich walked stiffly to the book shelf and took an engraved mahogany box down from one of the shelves. He held it gingerly in both of his hands and carried it to the table before he took his seat.

  “The box, my friends contains Theadora's favorite planchette.” Heinrich said grimly placing the box on the table. He lifted the little brass latch that held the lid closed up and opened the box. Randal noticed the box was padded and lined in white satin, or was it silk, the thought of an open casket came to mind. Heinrich gently lifted the planchette from the box. One could clearly see that this planchette was the work of a master carefully made to provide the least possible resistance to any force applied ensuring ease of movement for the spirits. It was worked into in the traditional shape of a heart, yet instead of being made of wood or of plastic as later mass produced planchettes are, it was carved from ivory. There was a place to insert a pen of pencil to assist in spirit writing, and of course the tip of the heart would be used to point to the letters adorning the table top. Beneath the ivory three tiny brass wheels had been mounted in such a manor that they would rotate in any direction given the least encouragement. Heinrich carefully, gently placed the device on the center of the table within easy reach of everyone.

  “Now if everyone would please put their fingertips, just the fingertips mind you, on the planchette, we can begin.” Heinrich invited, placing his own fingertips ever so lightly on the ivory. Bridget was next resting her fingers as light as a breath on the planchette. Ozzie rested his fingertips on the device and it instantly moved away from him.

  “Not so rough, not so heavy handed, Ozzie.” Heinrich scolded.

  Randal lightly placed his fingertips on the planchette and felt an odd tingling rise up from his fingertips into his into his hands. Instinctively he drew his hands away from the device as if it were a hot stove.

  “Come now Randal, don't be squeamish.” Heinrich prodded. Randal again gently placed his fingertips on the planchette lightly brushing Bridget's fingers.

  Heinrich looked up to the ceiling and took in a deep breath through his nostrils, held it for just a moment then let it out slowly from his mouth the
n he began.

  “Theadora, Theadora, can you hear us Theadora?” He paused, took another long deep breath, then continued.

  “Baron, are you here? Can you speak to us?” Heinrich waited for a reply. Randal felt rather than saw the ectoplasm forming in the shadows. Unease gripped at his entrails, he closed his eyes. The smell of cordite wafted in his nostrils, the sound of small arms and mortar fire echoed in his ears. Randal opened his eyes, flickering light of the fire welcomed him back to Theadora's private parlor.

  “Baron, can you hear us?” Heinrich repeated somberly. “Baron Frederick, are you here? If you can hear me, let me know. Show us a sign of your presence.” Heinrich pleaded into the darkness.

  The parlor door slammed shut with a bang, Bridget let out a little shriek of surprise, Ozzie's mouth hung open as he gaped at the door.

  “There must be a draft.” Randal commented.

  “Baron, is there something you want to tell us?” Heinrich continued ignoring Randal's disbelief.

  “I'm so cold.” Bridget whispered shivering.

  “I can see your breath.” Ozzie whispered.

  “Could this must be one of those cold spots they talk about in old ghost stories?.” Randal questioned, not expecting a reply.

  “Baron Frederick, do you want to communicate with us? Can you move the planchette?” Heinrich intoned. Whoosh the planchette flew from the table and hit the mirror above the fireplace cracking the glass.

  “Damn!” Randal muttered.

  “The baron is here, I can feel his presence” Heinrich was saying when Bridget yelled out.

  “Look at that! In the mirror, look!” A deep gray figure moved from the depths mirror forward towards the parlor, this parlor. Randal didn't believe his eyes, then it slowly oozed out from the cracks in the mirror then floated towards the table. Randal stood up, breaking the physical connection with his companions.

  “Sit down Randal! Don't disturb the spirits.” Heinrich commanded. Before Randal could move the table began to rock on two legs tapping out a strange dance. Randal feeling his heart rise in his chest, backed away from the table.