The Ghost with the Green Thumb

by Maggie M. Larche

  He pointed to the front of the church. “See that grill of latticework behind the altar?” I nodded, just able to make it out in the dim light. “Up there,” he said, “is where I used to hide every Wednesday night.”

  I looked at him in confusion. “What?”

  “Every week, I’d get to the church right before choir practice started and hunker down at the top of the platform. I could listen to a certain lady sing without being seen.”

  I suddenly understood. “Grandma?”

  “Yes. I was much too scared to ever sit where she could see me. But she had a voice like an angel, and I loved to listen. I parked myself there every week for almost two months before I finally got the nerve to volunteer to play the piano for the choir. That’s when I talked to your grandmother for the first time.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “It took me ages to be brave enough to ask her for a date.”

  I could almost picture my grandfather, young and unsure, cautiously courting my grandmother for months. It was funny to think of the two of them young and unattached. Kind of like me.

  “That’s a great story, Grandpa,” I said, “but I still don’t quite understand. What are you doing here now?”

  “Sometimes I like to come back at night, when the work crew has gone home, and just sit. It makes me feel close to her.” He looked around the room. “She’s why I took on this church remodel in the first place. I wanted to honor the place where we met.”

  My mouth dropped open. I felt so stupid. All this time, I encouraged the church remodel, thinking it was such a good thing to help Grandpa move on. But, he’d been doing it for Grandma from the very beginning! He wasn’t moving on. He was still living in the past.

  Still, I thought as I looked at Grandpa’s peaceful face, it might not be such a bad thing. I remembered what Ms. Matilda said about starting new adventures while still honoring the past. Perhaps this was just Grandpa’s attempt to do that.

  He stood up. “But I think I’ll have to save any more chatting for another time. You need to get to bed, young lady. You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. My eyelids felt scratchy, and my body ached to stretch out in my bed.

  “Come on, Beth, dear. Let’s get you home.”

  ***

  The next morning was a Saturday, and I woke late. In spite of my midnight adventure, I felt refreshed when I finally hopped out of bed. I called for Grandpa but received no answer.

  Wondering where he could be on a weekend, I plodded into the kitchen for some breakfast. My phone rang just as I poured my favorite cereal.

  “Hey, Laura,” I said as I answered.

  “You sound chipper,” came her voice.

  “And you don’t,” I said with a laugh. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been cleaning the garage out with Dad all morning, that’s what’s wrong. I can’t think of a worse way to spend the day.”

  “Sorry,” I said with a grimace. “Your parents are really getting a lot of work out of you lately.”

  “You’re telling me. I only got away because I told him you and I had a phone date set up.”

  “Did we? I must have forgotten.”

  “Obviously we didn’t. But my dad didn’t know that!”

  I laughed.

  “Ok, seriously,” she said, “why the sunshiny mood?”

  “I just feel pretty good about things. I think that Grandpa’s really turned a corner. We had a nice talk last night about Grandma, and I think he’s kind of got a handle on the whole situation.”

  “He’s moved on, you mean?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “More like, he’s coping the best way he can. He’s starting new projects without forgetting her.”

  “Sounds like a success,” said Laura. “Mission accomplished.”

  “Thank you, thank you,” I said and took a bite.

  “Good timing, too,” said Laura, “since you’ll be coming home soon.”

  “I know.” I frowned. “The thing is, I’m not so sure I’m ready to leave.”

  “Beth Shepherd, don’t you dare say that. If you stay any longer, I’m going to have to invent an imaginary friend to keep me company, and I am too old for that.”

  “Ok, ok,” I said. “Don’t worry. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  I hesitated. “Maybe I am just a teensy bit sad to leave Billy.”

  “Ahhhh!” I held the phone away from my ear to protect my hearing, though I could still hear Laura shout, “I knew it!”

  “Oh, stop it,” I said once she’d quieted down.

  “I knew it,” she said again. “You have talked about him nonstop.”

  “I don’t even know what I’m thinking, Laura. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. He’s never even said anything vaguely romantic to me.” I thought about that time in the Lovers' Garden, when he referenced me leaving town. He did seem sad about it.

  But I pushed the incident out of my mind. I was probably just fooling myself.

  “You should talk to him about it before you leave,” said Laura.

  “That sounds embarrassing. I couldn’t.”

  “Fine. But one day when you’re wondering about what could have been, don’t come crying to me.”

  “I won’t,” I promised. “I’ll cry to my new best friend who’s nicer to me.”

  “Yeah, right. Tough love, Beth. We all need it.”

  We hung up a few minutes later. I finished my breakfast and thought over the past few weeks with Billy.

  I remembered Grandpa’s story about meeting Grandma in choir. Somehow, I thought of Grandma and Grandpa as always having been together. It was natural to forget that they had a beginning, too.

  I thought of Billy’s easy companionship. Was there a chance for a beginning there? I really didn’t know.

  A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Upon opening it, I found the source of my confusion standing on the front porch.

  “Hey, Billy,” I said.

  “Beth, we need to talk.” He walked past me into the house, looking distracted. I followed, confused.

  I was ready to tell Billy all about my midnight trip to St. Patrick’s, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it.

  I’d never seen Billy like this before. Creases crossed his forehead, and he kept running his hands through his hair. He hadn’t even taken the time to make a crack about me still being in pajamas. He must be disturbed.

  He turned to face me.

  “I was just in the Lovers' Garden,” he said.

  “Really?” I asked in surprise. “Why?”

  He hesitated and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Uh, that’s not important. Anyways, as I came out, I ran into your grandpa. And my dad. They were walking around the property line between our yards.”

  “Oh, yeah? I guess they’re kind of friends, right?”

  “Actually, they were talking business today.”

  Billy’s cloak-and-dagger attitude was starting to make me nervous. “What kind of business?”

  Billy paused. “Remember how my dad is going to build a workshop for me and him?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, he needs more space to do it. He’s buying some land from your grandpa.” Billy looked at me with concern. “It’s the back acre, Beth. The one with the Lovers' Garden right in the middle.”

  Chapter 12

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I wish I wasn’t.”

  “But, he can’t do that! It’s Grandma’s garden. Why is Grandpa just throwing it away? How could he?”

  “He thinks it’s already trashed, remember? He can’t see it.”

  “Still, that’s no excuse. It’s the Lovers' Garden! That’s their special place!”

  Billy looked at me strangely. “Whatever happened to moving on?”

  I paused. “Not like this. I never meant like this.” I started to pace the room. “This is terrible. What are we going to do? We can’t –” I stopped in midsentence and looked at Billy, for I had
just realized something awful.

  “What?” he asked, looking confused at my sudden stop. “What is it?”

  If I somehow managed to save Grandma’s garden, I would cost Billy something in the process.

  “You’re finally going to get your workshop,” I said. “Your own special place, just for you and your dad.”

  He stared at me.

  “I don’t want to take that away from you,” I continued. “I know how you miss your dad when he’s gone so much. You need this.”

  Billy seemed to be having trouble finding the right words to say. Finally, he managed something. “Well, so what?”

  “So what?” I echoed.

  “Yeah. So what? You don’t really think I’d let this happen? Of course I want me and Dad to have our workshop, but I can’t mow down your grandmother’s garden to get it.” He started to walk around the room as I watched in growing surprise. “Heck, for all we know, your grandmother’s spirit is still there right now.” He whirled to face me. “I can’t take out a grandmother! Who do you think I am?”

  I stood up and threw my arms around Billy in a hug. “Thank you,” I whispered. His arms tightened around my back for one quick moment before we both pulled away in embarrassment.

  Billy cleared his throat, and I looked down at my feet.

  “No problem,” he said.

  “So,” I said, trying to ignore the giddy feeling that had come over me with the hug, “what do we do now?”

  “I could start by talking to my dad.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Billy, your dad wants to do something sweet for you. If you go to him and tell him not to, he might not understand. I don’t want to help my grandpa at the expense of you and your dad’s relationship.”

  “But he’s our best shot,” said Billy. “If I can convince him, he won’t buy the land.”

  “And then Grandpa might just move on and get rid of the garden anyway. Or sell the land to someone else. Who knows?” I shook my head. “No, somehow, we’ve got to change Grandpa’s mind.”

  My first sign of hope came that evening at dinner. Not knowing what else to do, I brought up the sale of the garden to Grandpa directly.

  “So what’s this about you selling the Lovers' Garden?” I asked. It wasn’t the smoothest way to introduce the topic, but time was running out. I was getting desperate.

  Grandpa put down his fork. “Ah, yes. So Billy mentioned it, hmm?”

  “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I hope you’ll forgive an old man for being foolish, but I didn’t want you to be upset. I know you’ve put a lot of work into the garden since you arrived. I could tell.”

  I frowned. I had spent hours in the garden, obviously, but I hadn’t been working. What was Grandpa talking about?

  “And I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate it,” he continued. “Really, it’s so nice to see some of the flowers come back among the weeds and whatnot. But I’m afraid it’s just too big of a project for me. I think Billy’s dad will make good use of the area. You know he plans to build a workshop?”

  “I’ve heard,” I said absently. Grandpa could see flowers in the garden? That was certainly a change from before. I spoke carefully. “So you liked the improvements we’ve made to the garden so far?”

  “Absolutely. I just don’t have the energy to keep it up once you leave. But I do appreciate the efforts.”

  I nodded slowly. This was interesting. I didn’t know what Grandpa’s newfound sight meant, or why he could only see parts of the revitalized garden, but it was surely a step in the right direction.

  “When will you finalize the sale with Billy’s dad?” I asked. “Is this like a fast thing? Doesn’t buying land take forever?”

  Grandpa chuckled. “It shouldn’t take too long between neighbors like us. Hopefully we’ll sign everything in the next couple days.”

  A couple days! How could I do anything in such a short amount of time? But I knew one thing for sure – I wasn’t going to let Grandma down now.

  The next morning, Grandpa and I dressed up to attend church. For the first time since my coming, the service would be held in the newly remodeled St. Patrick’s. I could tell Grandpa was excited by the way he kept humming all morning. I even thought I heard snatches of “Moon River.”

  I’m glad someone’s in a good mood, I thought. I was no closer to changing Grandpa’s mind about the garden, and it was making me cranky.

  While I waited for church to start, I looked around for Billy but didn’t see him. I wondered again about his presence in the garden the day before. I’d been so preoccupied with the news of the sale that I forgot to press him further on it. Why was he in the Lovers' Garden by himself? And why would he keep the reason for his visit a secret?

  The service started, and after a few minutes I was able to clear my mind and listen to the message. By the end, I felt slightly more peaceful. I still didn’t know how to get through to my grandpa, but I prayed that help would come my way.

  We ran into Ms. Matilda afterwards.

  “Karl,” she said, reaching for his hands, “what a phenomenal job you did. This building just sings, it’s so beautiful!”

  “Thanks, Matilda. But I did have a lot of help.”

  “Oh, pish. You know you were the driving force. And all that work really paid off.” She turned to me. “I hope you’re proud of your grandpa.”

  “Super proud,” I said, recognizing a potential ally. Was there some way I could get Ms. Matilda by herself? Given her knowledge of the situation, she might have an idea for me.

  “Grandpa,” I said, “why don’t you give Ms. Matilda the tour?”

  He raised his brows. “Would you like that? We don’t want to take up your day.”

  “No, I’d love it!”

  Grandpa gestured for Ms. Matilda to lead the way. I followed along behind and tried to think of any excuse to get her to myself. I needed help!

  When we reached the front of the church, Grandpa pointed to the staircase that led behind the altar. He gave me a wink and whispered, “That’s where I used to hide out, when I listened to your grandmother sing.”

  “Can we go up and see it?” I asked, genuinely interested. “Please? I’d really like to.”

  “Ok,” he said. “But it’s not very exciting. Just a small room without even a proper place to sit.” He turned to Ms. Matilda. “We’re going to take a little detour.”

  “Please, do,” she said. “I want to see it all.”

  We climbed the staircase and turned into a small rectangular room. The overhead bulbs were off, but light filtered in from the latticework that looked out over the main church.

  I peeked through the lattice. I had a great view of the choir area. I could see why Grandpa had chosen this spot for himself.

  “Look at this,” he said. “Someone placed a bench in here.” He ran his hand over a wrought iron bench tucked along one wall. It had a soft cushion across the seat that lent a comfort to it that might otherwise have been missing.

  I ran and sat down. “Comfy,” I said. I brushed my fingers over the design. “Look, it’s decorated with flowers. Pretty.”

  Ms. Matilda turned in a circle. “So this is where you hunkered down and listened to Elizabeth sing.”

  Grandpa looked surprised. “Now, how did you know about that?”

  Ms. Matilda waved her hand. “Oh, Elizabeth told me at the time. She knew you were up here.” She laughed, a free, merry sound. “She used to say that she wished she could bring you a folding chair or something, but that that would give you away.”

  Grandpa laughed. “Well, I’ll be. I had no idea she knew all this time. She never let on.”

  “She liked a good secret as much as any of us.”

  “That she did.”

  I listened to their conversation with only half an ear. I was distracted by something I had just found.

  “Grandpa. Ms. Matilda. Come here.”

  They stopped the
ir chatting and came to me, no doubt drawn by a certain catch in my voice.

  “Look at this bench,” I said. “Who put it here?”

  “I don’t know,” said Grandpa. “We’ve had quite a few workers in and out. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s not an ordinary bench. Look at the design.” I reached my hands out gently and ran them along the back of the furniture, tracing the design built into the wrought iron. “Right here is a bed of lilies, and these look like pansies. There’s a reflecting pond and azaleas. A stand of dogwoods. A single tree.” I raised my eyes to Grandpa’s and noticed that he had gone white. “With a heart and one hole in it.” I caught my breath. “Doesn’t it look familiar?”

  The two of them stood stock-still in front of me.

  Ms. Matilda put a hand over her heart. Grandpa finally moved again and leaned forward to examine the bench closely. He ran his hands along the back of the chair.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured.

  As I watched for his reaction, he turned abruptly and stalked down the stairs.

  I threw an anxious glance at Ms. Matilda before we both followed him. “Grandpa! Wait!”

  He’d already pulled out his phone and was heading for the main doors.

  “Wynn?” I heard him say. “It’s Karl. Listen, who put that wrought iron bench in the room just off the sacristy? It’s got a garden scene on it… Uh huh… I see. Ok, thanks.”

  As he spoke, he gradually slowed to a stop. He ended his phone call and hung about uncertainly. I caught up with him, Ms. Matilda bustling behind me.

  “Grandpa! What’d he say?”

  “He doesn’t know where it came from. Doesn’t remember anyone putting it there.”

  I clutched his arm. “I know where it came from! Don’t you see?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s Grandma!” I exclaimed. “I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know. But it’s got to be her.”

  “Sweetheart, the whole idea is ridiculous.” His words sounded harsh, but I could see the indecision on his face.

  Ms. Matilda joined us. “Karl. I think you should open your mind a little.”

  “Not you, too.”