by Tifani Clark
CHAPTER 11
Modern Day
Evergreen Cemetery, Marion, Massachusetts
Sophia paused in the telling of her story. All of us were sitting upright on the blanket, hanging on every word she said, desperate to hear how her story ended. I for one couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to live the life she had all those years before.
“Don’t stop there, Sophia, you’re just getting to the good part,” Peter encouraged.
“You still haven’t gotten to your death,” I added.
“I know. I know. I’ve just never told anyone about it before. Sometimes ghosts compare how they died. Everyone has to one up each other, you know? But I’ve always avoided the question when people ask me how I passed on. It brings back bad memories that I’ve spent years trying to forget.”
I looked at my watch. It was already midnight and we’d been sitting in the dark cemetery for hours. Halfway through Sophia’s story Camille had texted her mom, telling her that she would be spending the night at my house. I was supposedly at Camille’s home, she was supposedly at mine, and no one was home to wonder about Peter’s whereabouts. We could stay there all night if we wanted and no one would ever know.
After sitting in silence for a few more minutes, Sophia finally began the conclusion of her heartrending story. “The morning of my eighteenth birthday I woke up early. Of course, I don’t think I ever actually fell asleep the night before. I was too excited and nervous to sleep. What Nick and I were undertaking was potentially dangerous. Jeremiah seemed nice enough—until you crossed him. If he caught us there was no telling what he would do to me or Nick. Actually, I was more worried for Nick than myself. My sentence would be to marry Michael Mason, but his anger toward Nick could have brought any number of things. Anyway, I dressed in the burgundy and lace dress that I’d gotten for Christmas the year before. Then I pulled the oldest dress I owned over the top so that I wouldn’t bring any suspicion when I left the house. With my shawl and apron covering you couldn’t tell what I was wearing. I figured I could throw my worn dress into the well and travel in my best clothing. Jeremiah and Elsa were in the kitchen having a heated discussion when I grabbed the water buckets and left. It was hard not to look around, taking one last sentimental look at everything, but I didn’t want to alert them that something wasn’t right. I didn’t have to worry—they barely even looked at me that day. I’m pretty sure I ran all the way to the well. I can still feel the water buckets swinging and jostling me as I ran. When I got there, I couldn’t see Nick so I paced back and forth and quietly called his name into the trees. I wondered if he’d had trouble getting Mabel hitched up without my father noticing.”
Sophia squirmed restlessly on the blanket. “Time wore on and I was starting to get nervous. My heart raced and I didn’t know what to do. I ran around the edge of the trees calling his name. I even went farther down to the edge of the water to see if I had somehow misunderstood where I was supposed to meet him. There wasn’t any sign of him and no sign that he had ever been there.”
“What happened to Nick? Did something happen to Nick?” Camille panicked.
Sophia ignored her and continued talking. “Finally, after what seemed like hours, although I’m sure it wasn’t, I decided I should go back up to the house. If my father had detained him, we might’ve still had a chance to leave and get to the train on time if I met him at the road near our home. It would be riskier, of course, but I didn’t know what else to do. Since my plans had changed and I was going back to the house, I still had to fill the water buckets. I hurried as fast as I could. I’d never been more anxious in my life.”
Sophia wrapped her arms around her legs and rocked back and forth. “When I got back to the house, Jeremiah met me at the back door yelling about how slow I was. ‘I hope Michael Mason can knock some sense into you,’ I remember him saying. I entered the kitchen and frantically looked around hoping that Nick was there, but there was no sign of him. ‘What’s wrong with you this morning?’ Elsa asked me. Jeremiah followed me in and told me I needed to come help him hitch up his wagon. I asked him where he was going and he said he was headed to town to find someone else for his crew. He pulled out a piece of paper and waved it at me. ‘It’s a note from that boy,’ he said. ‘I found it on the kitchen table when I got up this morning. The boy says he doesn’t want to live life on the sea anymore and he’s left. The no-good, stupid boy didn’t know how good he had it.’ Jeremiah cursed about the inconsiderate way Nick had resigned and how he was forced to train someone new and how he might have to delay leaving on his next sea journey. He was so angry . . . he didn’t even notice I was crying through it all.” Sophia stopped to catch her breath.
“He really left you?” I asked in unbelief.
“He really left,” Sophia answered.
“How could he do that? You were in love. It was the perfect love story.” Camille had tears streaming down her face.
Peter continued to pick at the grass along the edge of the blanket, not daring to look any of us in the eye. He was definitely the odd man out.
“I wish I could answer the question of why he left. It’s haunted me for more than a hundred and twenty years.”
I was afraid to ask the next question, but I had to. “Sophia, did you have to marry Michael Mason?”
She nodded almost imperceptibly. “I was like a zombie for the next two days. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t think. It was as if I was on auto pilot. The morning of the wedding I thought about running away myself, but I had nothing to run for. I’m ashamed to say it, but I even thought about taking my own life.”
“Oh, Sophia . . .” I didn’t think the story could get much worse.
“The ceremony was in the evening. It was early November and the sun was quickly dropping from the sky. I kept watching the road, hoping Nick would change his mind and come back for me, but he never did. I reluctantly exchanged vows with Michael. When he kissed me at the end, I was so repulsed I had to turn away to keep from vomiting on him. Just the sweaty smell of him made me sick. He leered at me every chance he got that evening. We shared a meal with our parents and then Jeremiah and Elsa left and Michael’s parents returned to their nearby home. I was alone with Michael and I was so terrified I couldn’t stop shaking.”
Sophia struggled with her story. She still had her knees up with her arms tucked around them and rocked back and forth as she spoke, not looking up at all.
“When everyone was gone he escorted me to his bedroom and started to remove his clothing. Then he…he…he tried to remove my dress. I told him I was really tired and asked if we could just turn in for the night. He told me that I was his wife and I had to do what he said. I was there for his pleasure. I was scared so I tried to move away from him, but he was so much bigger and stronger than me. He grabbed me and began to tear at my clothing. It was so humiliating. The man was old enough to be my father. All I wanted was to get out of there and I tried again to pull away from him, but he kept hold of me with one hand while the other one tore at my clothes. He kept touching me all over and it was awful. I wanted to die.”
Sophia was crying so hard she could barely speak. Her words came out in stutters between her sobs. I put my arm around her and she tensed at first, but then relaxed and continued with her gruesome narrative.
“By this time I was so sick to my stomach that I . . . I . . . puked . . . all over the floor. He was so angry. He slapped me and cursed at me. I fell to the ground, but he picked me up and punched me in the face again and again. I was bleeding, but he didn’t even care. I kept trying to pull away and he kept trying to touch me. I hurt so bad from him beating me that I could barely stand anymore. He finally shoved me so hard that I completely lost my balance and fell back against the fireplace. The poker that he used to stir the fire was propped up against it and I fell on it. It went right through my chest. I died instantly.”
When her story ended no one spoke. I could hear Camille crying softly to herself and I wiped at the silent tears that streamed down my
own cheeks. Even Peter tried to hide his emotions as he coughed, cleared his throat, and squirmed around on the blanket.
“Sophia, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. No person should ever have to be subjected to something like that. You had so much tragedy in your life. It wasn’t fair.” My voice cracked.
“It may not seem fair, but that’s how it was. I’ve had a lot of years to come to terms with my previous life and I’ve learned to live how I want to, without anyone else telling me what to do. And now I’m ready to move on.” She wiped the final tears from her eyes and smoothed her hair, composing herself once more.
“Please tell me Michael went to prison for the rest of his life,” Camille said.
Sophia’s lips formed a straight, emotionless line. “He claimed I tried to kill him with the fire poker. He told my parents I died in self-defense. They didn’t push the matter so the local authorities didn’t either.”
“Could that have something to do with your unfinished business? Maybe you need to find justice for yourself,” I said.
“Maybe, but I know that Michael never came back as a ghost. When he died, he actually died.”
Peter attempted to ease the mood by changing the subject. I think we were all glad to have the heavy pall lifted from our little group. “So, if you guys came here to meet with other ghosts, what do we need to do to contact them?” he asked.
Sophia looked up. “Nothing, really. They’ve been watching us for hours now.”