“I certainly hope I can live up to your expectations,” Sam said. “But first, we need to get Rocky inside.”
“We can help with that,” Genny said.
“I thought so,” Sam said. “You pulled them away so Rocky and I could look inside, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but not just Genny and me,” Rebecca said. “Harold and Henry are strong, and manipulating time is taking much of our energy so it takes all of us,” she said, motioning towards the other ghosts. “Even with all of us together, we cannot hold them for long, so your friend needs to be quick.”
Sam heard his phone ding. “He’s here.”
“Tell your friend to be ready and when Henry and Harold are near to us we will hold them while your friend comes in through the porch door,” Rebecca instructed
The whirlwind moved. Sam had his text ready. Now, he sent.
They pushed the porch doors open and saw Rocky holding onto the support beams like he was riding a bull. He pulled himself forward and as soon as he rolled inside, Rebecca and the other ghosts released the whirlwind that was Henry and Harold.
Sam grabbed the bag Rocky was clutching and Rocky scrambled to his feet and away from the doors.
“That crazy wind took my hat again,” Rocky said, looking around for it. “You figure out where it comes from yet?”
Sam pointed towards the whirlwind that was now travelling towards them. Rocky’s mouth dropped open.
“The wind that’s been stealing your hat comes from that, and that is Harold and Henry,” Sam said.
“Looks like two dogs wrestling over a bone. How long have they been at it?”
“Since the day Harold died,” Sam said, “So 200 years minus two days.”
Chapter 23
“200 years! I’ve had my share of fights with my brothers but 200 years? That’s nuts.”
“It appears to be the classic ‘good versus evil’ scenario. The difference in their forces creates a whirlwind, much like how widespread differences in temperature create thunderstorms and hurricanes.”
“Can they hear or see us?” Rocky asked.
“I’m not sure about the brothers, but they can,” Sam said, pointing towards the portrait. “That’s how we got you in here. Rebecca, Genny, and the other ghosts pulled the brother’s whirlwind towards them.”
Rocky gulped. “My brothers are never gonna believe this.”
“Hurry, Sam,” Rebecca urged. “We don’t have the energy to hold time much longer.”
“Right. We need to separate the brothers by offering them a stronger attraction than fighting each other.”
“We figured the treasure would convince Harold to let go,” Will said.
“What will happen to Henry if Harold let’s go?” Rocky asked.
“I’ve been thinking about what Bart and Henry both said when they died,” Sam said. “The logical conclusion is that they meant their greatest treasure is their family.”
Rocky started nodding. “I know my family is the best thing I’ve got no matter how crazy they make me.”
“The only piece of hard data I have is the timing of when we saw Henry’s ghost. It was right after Harold threatened Rebecca and Genny.”
“I guess if the threat got Henry riled up enough to come at Harold, then it stands to reason that returning to his family would be strong enough to pull him back,” Will said.
“But Henry’s family is, well, they’re over there,” Rocky said looking at the portrait. “And they haven’t been able to pull him back in 200 years.”
“Rebecca also said her ties to Henry weaken every day and that the generations of a family need to stay together to be strong. Henry’s past family is not strong enough to pull him away by themselves. He needs a living breathing representative of his family. Someone in the present,” Sam said, turning to Will. “And that would be you. You carry his bloodline which means you are his greatest living treasure.”
Will started to protest.
“I know you only think about being related to Harold, but you’re related to Henry too. Just think of him as a great-great-great-great uncle.”
“I never thought of it that way. Of course, no one around here ever let us think we were anything but bad blood,” Will said.
“Does this mean you figured out where the treasure is?” Rocky asked hopefully.
“No, but Harold doesn’t know that,” Sam said with a smile. “Will, since you’re related to Harold too, he might hear you better than us. Shout to him that you have the treasure.”
“Harold Humbolt!” Will shouted. “We have what you’re searching for.” The wind slowed slightly and Will continued. “We have the treasure!”
Sam held up Rebecca’s box for him to see. The whirlwind stopped completely and the sudden stillness seemed to wrap around them. “The clue you need is in here. The note you saw Rebecca put in this box was from the dock master. Henry had him set aside some of the treasure from the capture of the French frigate and the letter in here says where it is,” Sam said, surprising himself he by conjuring up such a reasonable story.
Now that Henry and Harold were still, Sam could see they had each other by the throat. Harold turned and Sam felt his eyes burn into him.
“The letter from Wilmington?” Harold asked, his voice rolling through the room like thunder. “Is it yet hidden inside? Prove it to me, Boy!”
Sam cleared a place on the desk and set the box down. Closing his eyes, he replayed the earlier vision of Rebecca opening the box. Enacting the exact same sequence, a small drawer popped out and Sam pulled out a yellowed envelope. He broke the wax seal and signaled Will to move closer to the portrait.
Harold lunged towards the letter, releasing Henry, who sped towards Will. Rebecca reached out for Henry and pulled him close.
Harold roared when his ghostly fingers passed through the paper. “Read it to me boy!” But before Sam could move, a sound like a train charged through the walls.
Ghosts flooded the room, surging towards Harold and crying out, “You sent us to our death!”
“No, no!” Harold said defensively. “It was Captain Stover who chose to head home in the storm.”
One ghost pushed his way to the front of the group and Sam recognized him as Captain Stover. His stance commanded respect, just as it had when he’d given the order to abandon ship.
“You lie!” Captain Stover yelled, grabbing Harold around the throat as if to kill the already dead man. “Your lies destroyed generation after generation of Stovers’ and Humbolts’.” Then he tossed Harold aside like a piece of trash and swept his transparent arm out towards the ghosts behind him. “By trapping us here on earth with your lies, you kept us from our treasure.”
“Hah!” Harold croaked. “You absurd man. What treasure could you possibly have that was worth more than mine?”
Captain Stover turned towards his ghostly family waiting near the portrait. “Family. Family is our treasure.”
“Bah!” Harold laughed. “Utterly ridiculous.”
Captain Stover shook his head. “You have no idea what you missed or what we’ve missed because of your lies.”
Harold’s anger started to glow red hot once again, radiating heat the boys felt from across the room. “How dare you call me a liar,” Harold said, his voice low and menacing. Then his face contorted into something resembling a smirk. “Besides, you have no proof that I lied. Who would take the word of a sailor over mine?”
“Harold’s right,” Will said, shaking his head. “I don’t think the word of a ghost is enough evidence to change anyone’s mind about Captain Stover.”
Sam turned over the envelope in his hand. “Maybe the evidence has been here all along,” he said, carefully pulling out the yellowed letter from the envelope. “It’s hard to make out,” he said, turning it towards the light coming through the window so he could read the faded writing. “But I have a gut feelin
g that this is just what we need,” Sam said, before reading the letter out loud.
“Dear Mr. Henry Humbolt,August 15, 1799
I hope this letter finds you well. I mean no harm to your relations with this letter, but feel you should be made aware of the truth. Your brother Harold has forced the Dragonfly out into what might be a deadly storm. He and Captain Stover argued mightily over it this very night. Mr. Harold threatened to remove the captain’s status and besmirch his name if he did not obey his orders. For fear of leaving his family without the means to live, Captain Stover did as he was ordered.
You are a good and honorable man and I know you will use this information as needed.
Yours in trust,
Benjamin Bolton, Harbor Master, Wilmington, North Carolina
“Could my nightmare finally be over? Is the Stover name finally cleared?” Captain Stover asked. He turned eagerly to Sam. “You must publish the letter. The truth must be told!”
“Of course,” Sam said. “The facts have to be told. I will make sure history reflects Harold sent the Dragonfly out in the storm, not Captain Stover.”
“Give it to me!” Harold demanded, lunging for the letter, but once again his ghostly fingers passed straight through it.
Sam’s hands were trembling but he steadied himself and carefully placed the letter back inside the box. Sweat ran down his neck and back from the growing heat of Harold’s anger. Instinctively, he stepped as far away as he could. “I will publish the letter,” Sam said, staring into the smoldering darkness of Harold’s eyes. “The truth will be told.”
“No!” Harold cried, jerking backwards and shielding his face as if the truth pained him.
Captain Stover’s shoulders relaxed. “At last, all of us who were trapped on earth by Harold’s lie can rest in peace.”
The whole crew drifted towards the portrait. Sam heard Genny call out to Bart, “Come to me and let us enjoy the treasure of our family forever more.” The couple embraced for the first time in 200 years, their ghostly forms twinkling like a thousand stars.
“Thank you,” Bart said. “Thank you all. We have waited for this day for so long…so very, very long.”
As other ghosts expressed their gratitude, Harold’s rage grew until the room felt as hot as an oven. “You’ve tricked me out of my treasure! I demand my due!”
Rebecca, arm in arm with her husband, spoke to Harold. “You had a chance at treasure with your daughter, Margaret. But you threw it away. You have no one to blame for that but yourself.”
“What? Why do you keep talking about family like it’s treasure?” Harold scoffed, his voice cracking with disbelief.
“Because it is,” Henry said, pulling Rebecca close as the ghosts near the portrait gathered together, each one glowing strongly now. “Family and friends. The relationships you forge with them is what sustains you not only in life, but in death too.”
Sam could make out Will and Margaret Stover and recognized the tall lanky man and the short round woman at his side as the Wellbottoms. Behind them another layer of ghosts emerged and then another and another until their essence filled the parlor and spilled out into the hallway. As they settled with their families, Sam began to recognize some of them from the ship and the beach.
Henry continued. “Now I am finally free to spend eternity enjoying the treasures of my past while watching the treasures of the future grow and prosper.”
Harold’s face distorted with confusion. He reached out to his daughter, but pulled back in pain.
“You reap what you sow, Father,” Margaret said. “You never saw beyond the treasure of the gold and silver you sought in life and you can see there is none of that here to hold you. Be gone!”
As if ignited by an internal flame, Harold became a pillar of fire, forcing Sam, Will, and Rocky to shield their faces from the intense heat. In a moment, there was nothing left but a pile of ashes.
“Let’s send him off boys,” one of the sailors called out.
The ghostly crew formed a circle around the ashes and started spinning. Faster and faster they flew forming Harold’s ashes into a small twister. They moved as one, pushing the twister towards the open porch doors where they broke their circle. Rebecca stepped forward, cupped her hands around her mouth and blew out a gust of wind that carried the ashes out to sea. When she stopped, the house was peaceful for the first time in 200 years.
“Is he really gone?” Will asked.
Henry nodded. “Thanks to all of you.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Will said. “Sam figured it out.”
“Yes, but he would not have come without you,” Rebecca said. “I listened to you tell our story as if your life depended on it. You didn’t know that our afterlives depended on it too. You brought Sam to us and we are free because of it.”
“And by proving Harold was responsible for the shipwreck,” Captain Stover said, “You freed yourself and restored our family’s name and honor.”
Sam looked over at Rebecca. “Was I really the only one who could save you?”
“We have asked others, but they were frightened by things they could not understand. But not you. You have a need to understand everything and you don’t stop searching until you do.”
“But you needed the help of others too,” Genny said, nodding towards Rocky. “We watched you fight the ocean out by the sandbar. The Dragonfly’s crew helped as best as they could, but in the end it was your friends who pulled you to safety. They are your treasure as much as your family is.”
“You were smart enough to figure out how to separate my husband from his brother,” Rebecca said. “But you were also smart enough to recognize that you couldn’t do it all on your own. You had to accept help. I know that part wasn’t easy for you, but in the end, you found out how strong a friendship becomes when it grows out of helping one another.”
Sam stared at Rebecca. “But how did you know I was smart enough?”
Rebecca reached out to touch his cheek. He felt her coolness, but not her touch.
“Ah, my lad. There’s so much more to this world than what you see with your eyes,” she said turning back to Henry. “Like the bonds of trust and strength that grow between family and friends.”
“I guess there will always be things I don’t know,” Sam said with a shrug.
“Speaking of things we don’t know,” Rocky said. “Was there treasure on the Dragonfly or not?”
Bart Stover’s eyes twinkled. “Aye, there was plenty of treasure. We’d overtaken a French frigate and her hold was full of trunks filled with gold and silver.” Bart inhaled as if he smelled something wonderful. “There was one trunk full of fine linens that smelled like lavender.” He turned to Genny. “Some say it smelled like love. I wanted so much to share it with my beloved wife, but it was not to be. Not in life, that is. But now we have eternity together and that is treasure enough.”
“Sam, I’m sorry, but we cannot hold time any longer,” Rebecca said. “We must be moving on.”
Henry cleared his throat. “Will, you are the last living male of the Humbolt line, so this house and the land it’s on belongs to you. All I ask is that you make it a proud and happy home once again.”
A thick fog, like the one on the beach, swirled up and around the ghosts until they were wrapped in it like a cocoon. “Goodbye, my friends,” Genny said as she faded away with the other ghosts. “May you also find your greatest treasure.”
Chapter 24
Even after the ghosts left, the boys kept staring at the portrait.
“To heck with my brothers believing this,” Rocky said. “I don’t believe it and I was part of it! Of course, if we find the treasure…
you know, the gold and silver kind of treasure, that’ll go a long way to helping me believe.”
Will braced himself against the wall as the floor beneath him began to sag. “This house is going t
o need an awful lot of work to be a home again. How am I going to pay for that? Betty and I barely get by as it is.”
“When I first saw this place, I told Sam that the land alone was worth a good chunk of change,” Rocky said. “All you need to do is to sell some of the oceanfront property. That’ll go a long way towards fixing this fixer-upper.”
“But I need the deed to the property before I can do that. That’s been the problem all along. Otherwise my dad would have sold it years ago,” Will said. Suddenly there was an ominous creaking, like the house was shifting on its foundations.
“Rebecca said she and the other ghosts held time while they were here, but when they left, time re-started,” Sam said as bits of plaster fell from the ceiling. “Now, the house is catching up with the 200 years that’s passed since Henry died, so it’s getting older by the second.
That means the same thing is happening to the deed. We need to find it fast and get out of here.”
The house shuddered again and Rocky grabbed Rebecca’s box before it slid off the desk. “I’d better hold onto this so I don’t get in trouble with Miss Betty.”
“Where do you think the deed is?” Will asked. “Henry didn’t
tell us.”
Sam looked around the room. “Harold mentioned that Henry kept a copy of everything, so it has to be here somewhere. We didn’t see it when Harold pulled everything out of the desk, so it’s not there.
Wall safes were popular in this time period and there’s only one place left where it could be hiding,” Sam said, stepping over to the family portrait and lifting it off the wall. “Voila!”
“Buddy, I hate to tell you, but there’s nothing there but a wall.”
The floor shifted and a crack started growing up the wall. “And one that’s falling apart more and more every second.”
“It’s just like at the library,” Sam said, seemingly oblivious to the creaking and groaning of the house decaying around him. He tapped up, down, and sideways along the wall until the sound changed from a wooden echo to a metallic echo. “The door should be spring loaded with the release approximately ten inches from center since that was the usual size of strongboxes at the time this house was built.”
A Ghostly Twist Page 14