| Young Adult Fiction posted October 21, 2016 |
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A little Halloween, ghost story, fun.
Eli, And His Invisible Friend
by papa55mike
Pat and I are sitting under the shade tree in the back yard. We're breaking up twigs then throwing them. She always throws hers out in the bright sun.
For some reason, I can't get mine out of the shade. The yellow Maple leaves are falling around us. I'm looking out across the harvested cornfield that separates our two old farmhouses trying to make her believe me, "I tell you, Pat, she's real. Rosie comes to me almost every night. We talk a little or play checkers." Here's mama coming out the back door with clothes to hang out. "What's she look like, Eli?" Pat brushes her long black hair out of her face. The warm, late September breeze, blows it right back. "Well, all I see are two beautiful blue eyes, the shape of a tiny little nose along with a beautiful smile. It's prettier than mama's smile." "You mean to tell me, she ain't got nobody, Eli?" Pat smiles in disbelief. "She's invisible, all I can tell you is she knows how to move checkers around. Ever since I taught her how to play, she's been whooping my butt. I don't know if she walks or even has legs, but she sure gets around. I can feel her when she arrives in my room. It's like the hairs on the back of my neck start to tingle. I ain't seen her anywhere else in the house, but I've felt her in other rooms." "Eli, you're an only child who made up Rosie. We're going to start calling you 'Eli the wacko'!" Pat laughs then lays back against the old tree. "Why don't you and Mikey spend the night? You can meet Rosie then!" I put my best smile on Pat. "My mom ain't letting me spend the night with a boy. I'm eleven!" Pat shakes her head at me. "Well, I'm ten. If your mama thinks we're going to get romantic, I can tell you right now. That ain't happening. All that kissing and hugging, yuk! Besides, Mikey will be there." Pat's thinking hard, "That might work." "It will if you're not afraid, Pat." My smile dares her. Pat looks me in the eye with determination, "I'll go ask my mom, right now!" "So will I!" ~ Both missions were successful, and now my small bedroom is full on this Friday night. We pulled two extra mattresses from the attic then put them beside my bed. Mama put new sheets on both, with my help. Pat and Mikey are playing checkers on my bed, and I'm sitting in the old broken chair that dad threw out. It took me a whole week to fix it, but I was determined to have a chair of my own. Two boards, a bunch of screws, a few nails and a pillow later. I had my a chair. I love this book I got at the school library. "Scary Stories, To Tell In The Dark" by Alvin Schwartz. Everybody at school is reading the series with its dancing bones, walking corpses and ghosts galore. Thump, thump, thump! "Triple jump and I win again, Pat. Hoo, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Mikey uses his spooky laugh. He has the funniest smile with no front teeth. "I can't believe you beat me again? You're only six years old and in the first grade!" Slowly, Pat shakes her head. Mikey smiles at her, "Play again, Pat?" "No, thank you, you crushed my ego enough. I think I'll play Minecraft on my phone." Pat turns to me, then asks, "What are you reading, Eli?" "The first book in that Scary Stories series. It's good. If you guys want to, we can watch a scary movie or two. I brought some DVD'S upstairs." Pat smiles, "No thanks, Mikey would be up all night. I've read all three in the series, and that's the best one. No wonder you have invisible friends, Eli. Look at what you're watching and reading?" "I'll have you know that I also watch "The Walking Dead" every Sunday with my dad. I ain't seeing no zombies. This book ain't nothing compared to that." Suddenly, Pat and Mikey freeze. I feel the hair on the back of my neck start to tingle. They both turn to me when I say, "She's here." Pat and Mikey slowly walk over and stand beside me, but Rosie still won't show herself. Putting my book down, I slowly walk over to my bed then sit down, "It's okay, Rosie. They're my friends." A tiny light quickly flashes, then Rosie appears, just like I said. Two big blue eyes, a little button nose, and a beautiful smile. "What are their names, Eli?" Rosie asks with her deep southern drawl. Then a bottom print appears on my bed when she sits down. "My name is Patricia, Rosie. But all my friends call me Pat." She reaches out her hand for Rosie to shake. I can see the indent of an invisible thumb press against Pat's hand. Pat smiles when she feels Rosie's hand squeeze hers. "May I call you, Pat?" Rosie asks, so polite. "Why, of course. I'd like you to meet my younger brother, Mikey." Mikey's eyes are huge! He slowly waves, "Hi, I have to pee." He runs out of there like a scared rabbit, holding himself. All three of us bust out laughing. Pat sits on the edge of my bed then turns to Rosie and asks, "How old are you, Rosie, and do you have a last name?" "Let me think. It's hard for me to remember things." Rosie's eyes study the floor for a moment, "Yes, my last name is Pettibone." Her eyes look towards the window then back to us in a flash. "I remember now, I'm ten." It's my turn now, "Where do you live, Rosie?" Pat and I watch Rosie bite her lower lip slightly, "I believe this is my room, right here. Mama and I have the whole second floor to ourselves. All the others live downstairs." Rosie smiles at Pat, "I love your hair, Pat, it's so long and pretty." A lock of Pat's hair rises from her shoulder, and we watch it twirl in the air around unseen fingers. Rosie leans in then smells Pat's hair, "Are those strawberries in your hair?" Pat smiles, "I love my strawberry shampoo and conditioner." Rosie pulls back Pat's hair from her ear. Her blue eyes study the stone in her ear lobe. "What a beautiful stone on your ear, how does it stay there?" Pat pulls back her ear to show Rosie, "I had my ears pierced. There's a back holding it in place." I can't believe Pat's smile. She's found a new best friend. "Rosie," smiling, she turns back to me, "What's your mother's name?" "That, I can easily remember, Lucinda Johnson. That's not her African name, though." Her voice seems to be getting a little more southern the more she remembers. I notice you can see more of her. I can see the shape of her hands and face, "Do you see this, Pat?" Pat reaches up with her finger then traces the outline of her oval face, "You're beautiful, Rosie. Where did you get that scar on your cheek?" Rosie looks down for a moment, "Oh, the Master gave it to me. I didn't move fast enough getting his coffee, one morning. It bled like the dickens, but I never cried. Even when they sewed it up." Pat and I look at each other, then ask, "The Master?" All of a sudden, Mikey busts through my bedroom door with my mama and hollers, "See there Mrs. Washington. I told you Pat and Eli got a ghost in here." Rosie had already disappeared, I have my book in my hand, and Pat is playing on her phone. I speak up, "What ghost Mikey? Did those stories, scare you?" Mama smiles, then looks down at Mikey, "Do you want to spend the night, son?" "No, ma'am. I ain't staying in no room with a ghost in it!" Mikey shakes his head no. "Eli, will you and Pat walk Mikey home?" Mama smiles at us both. "Of course, mama. Let me get my flashlight." I head to my closet. "I'll have to go to Mrs. Washington. Mama won't let me spend the night alone." Pat looks dejected. Mama smiles, then runs her fingers through her hair, "I understand, sweetie. You can come back anytime you want to." "Thank you." Pat and Mikey begin to pack everything up. I'm standing on the front porch of the Johnson farmhouse, waving to Pat and Mikey while they go in the front door. Slowly, I start back home when a feeling comes over me. Like somebody, evil is watching me. Turning back to the Johnson home, I don't see a thing. But I can't shake the feeling. Checking the field ahead of me and there's nothing. "Well, what do you expect, you were just talking to a ghost," I answer myself. Stepping on our front porch, I notice the porch swing. It's swaying back and forth, a tiny light flashes, then Rosie appears, "Come swing with me, Eli?" "Okay." Slowly I sit down beside her after she stops the swing. "You know that Pat likes you, Rosie." "Oh, I hope so. I think Pat is wonderful." "Tell me about the Master, Rosie?" "Well, ain't much to tell. The Master is the evil man who runs this Plantation. I do remember he always carries a riding crop for hitting the misbehaving children along with a six-foot bullwhip." Mama starts to open the door, Rosie vanishes, "What are you doing out here, Eli? Get in here so I can get back to bed." "Yes, mama." ~ The next morning, I'm getting dressed by my window Tand I see Pat heading this way in a hurry. It looks like she's carrying a big book. After mama went to bed last night, I got on the internet to find out anything about the Pettibone's in this area. There wasn't much to find. Fire destroyed everything about this area before the Civil War at the courthouse in 1884. I hear Pat knock on the front door while I'm walking down the stairs, "Is Eli up yet, Mrs. Washington?" "I'm right here, mama." Pat smiles at me, "Do I need to talk to you." Mama speaks up, "What are you two up to?" I watch her study my face to see if I'm lying or not. "We're working on a school project about the early years of Gibson county, and the huge plantations that were around here. Do you have ideas for finding out who originally owned this farm?" I use my best smile on mama, hoping she'll buy it. "Well, you can start with cemetery records. Pat, your dad, should have an old book on it in his library that will tell you. He was always fascinated with the history of this county." "I think I have what we need right here, Mrs. Washington." Pat smiles while showing her the book. "Can we go to my room to study, mama?" I flash my sweetest smile at her. "Don't let me stop you two from studying on a Saturday. Have fun." She heads for the kitchen. After closing the door, we crawl up on my bed. "I found out who the Master is." Pat opens the thick book with the 1840s on the cover to a bookmark. "It says here, that in 1843 a man by the name of Horatio D. Pettibone bought this Plantation. He named it "The Pale Horse," meaning death rides a pale horse then turned it into one of the wealthiest farms around. He was known for his brutal and ruthless treatment of his slaves. So I believe what Rosie said about riding crop and bullwhip. It says here that all the other farmers thought his middle initial stood for "Devil" because of the way he acted. The cemetery records show that over two thousand slaves died in the twenty years he ran this farm. They're all buried in unmarked graves, in the northern part of the farm." "You mean to tell me, Rosie was a slave?" "No, I can't find her listed anywhere in the slaves buried there. And there's a complete list, back then, they were meticulous record keepers. I did find Lucinda Johnson. But not, her grave though. She was in charge of all the house slaves even though he bought her from a slave pen in Memphis. Here's her bill of sale, he paid a thousand dollars for her - an unheard of price for a woman slave. Reginald Owen, a rival owner, wrote in this journal that Lucinda Johnson was an African Queen and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He later offered Pettibone ten-thousand dollars for her. Pettibone said no." "Is there a map of the old farm in there?" I can't believe all the information in this book. "Yeah, it's in the back." Pat starts to unfold it. "This is our house, and it was called The Master's House. Your house was the house slave quarters. I can't tell if Rosie and her mother lived on the second floor. But everything else she said is true." "What's this spot here in the northern part of the farm?" Pat smiles at me, "A place we need to visit, Eli. That's the old cemetery, where many of our answers dwell." "Yeah, that's what mama said. What's all these marks with numbers beside them, Pat?" "Those are the unmarked graves of all the slaves. The number goes with the list of slaves in the front." "Rosie ain't part of them, wonder why?" Pat smiles at me, "That's why we have to go to the cemetery. Maybe her grave is there, and it just didn't get recorded?" "To me, that's not the big question. Why is Rosie's last name, Pettibone?" Pat looks out the window for a second, then back to me with a big smile, "I hadn't thought about that." ~ We took off right after lunch. Pat and I look back at our fathers harvesting a vast soybean field in the south part of the farm. They must be a mile away. We can almost see the whole farm from where we're standing. Our families each own separate parts of the farm, but to cut down on costs, both families work it together. It's been a long walk across the three fields that leads to the old cemetery. Dark gray clouds begin to roll in from the north, the closer we get. At the edge of the harvested cornfield is an old, broken-down wooden fence. Tall prairie grass blocks the entrance, so Pat and I step over a low spot. "This must be where the unmarked graves start. What's that sticking up back there?" Pat asks. "I don't know. It looks like a stone tower. Hey, I bet it's part of a tombstone. I've seen fancy tombstones like that in old books." We slowly make our way through a stone entrance while the cold wind begins to blow harder. The clouds are black and rolling in. The tall grass begins to flatten in the wind while walking up to the monument. Pat hollers over the wind, "Let's take a bunch of pictures with our phones, then we can look at them later." We start looking for tombstones, and all we find is the big one. We start pulling the grass away, and neither one of us is shocked to see the name "Pettibone" in capital letters. Pat screams above the wind, "It says here that Horatio D. Pettibone died in 1865. Right after the Civil War. Of course, he fought for the South. One of the people he abused for years, probably killed him." Walking up to take some more pictures, I trip over something. "Hey, here's another one." I pull the grass back on the small tombstone, "It's Lucinda Johnson. It says here she died in 1865, right at the end of the war. But where is Rosie's grave?" Pat looks puzzled then hollers over the howling wind, "I remember now, there's no grave marked for Lucinda Johnson on the burial chart, anywhere. Why is she buried in here?" "I think I've figured that out." Suddenly, I get the same feeling I had coming home from Pat's house last night. I take several more pictures of the entire graveyard then scream at Pat, "Come on, we better get back before the rain starts." "Okay!" We take off running out of there. The farther we get from the cemetery, the faster the storm heads the other direction. Five minutes later, it's like it was never there. I look at Pat then say, "Well, that storm was weird. Let's look at our pictures on the way home." Both of us start scanning our phones. In the last ones I took, there's a towering, dark figure with glowing red eyes in the back of the graveyard. Watching us. "Hey, Pat, is there a dark figure in the back of the graveyard in any of your pictures?" "Yeah, it's in four of mine. The ones I took when we were leaving." I look Pat in the eye then we both answer at the same time, "Pettibone." We both jump when Pat's phone rings, "Good gracious, mama. Scare me to death!" I hear Pat's mama say something, "No, I'm not doing anything wrong." Pat's mama gets a little louder this time, "I'll be right there. I got to go help her with supper." "Come over after supper. We have a lot to discuss. I'll start writing down all the questions we need to ask Rosie." Pat takes off running across the field then hollers back to me, "What was it, that you figured out?" I holler back, "That Horatio D. Pettibone is Rosie's father." Pat, stops in her tracks then turns to me with a shocked look. A big smile creeps across her face. Slowly, she takes off running again. ~ That evening, I'm sitting on the front porch gazing towards the graveyard. Questions are filling my mind. Like, why is Rosie is not buried in the cemetery? Is that why she's still here? I see Pat walking across the field. She looks puzzled for some reason. She walks silently up to me then slowly sits down beside me, "Why do you say Pettibone is Rosie's father?" "Four reasons: one, Pettibone was never married. That means Lucinda Johnson was his mistress. He couldn't marry her because she was a slave. Two, that's also why Rosie has his last name. Three, it's also why Lucinda Johnson is buried right beside Pettibone. A spot only reserved for family. Four, Rosie's eyes are blue." "Wow, Eli. It all fits, but why is Rosie still here?" Pat's eyes are big. She pushes her hair behind her ear. "I read a, supposedly true, story once about a spirit who haunted a castle because she hadn't been laid to rest. History never told what happened to her. She haunted the castle for hundreds of years until one day they found her bones walled up in a room. Once they had a burial service, her spirit was at rest. For some reason, I think Rosie was never buried." "We have to find her remains, don't we?" "Yeah, then bury her beside Lucinda Johnson. Her mother." "Eli, while I was eating supper, a thought came to me. I remember in the records that many of Pettibone's slaves died within a few days after the Civil War ended. Something bad happened here at the end of the war. If my theory is right, Pettibone came home from the Civil War defeated, but determined not to free his slaves. So he killed them." Pat looks at the ground for a second, "Including Lucinda Johnson and Rosie. He killed his daughter. What an evil man." Pat looks back to me with tears in her eyes. "There's only one person who knows, Pat." We both answer at the same time, "Rosie." "Maybe that's why she doesn't remember anything, Pat? It's too painful." "We can't help her unless she does. Do you think she's been here since the end of the Civil War?" "Yeah, I think she's been here about 150 years. She'll never rest until we find her remains." "When do you usually see Rosie at night, Eli?" "It's when the house gets quiet. About ten o'clock." "The house is quiet now. Think, she'll talk to us?" I smile at Pat, "She will if you're there, Pat. Rosie likes you. She thinks you're wonderful." Pat bites her lower lip to keep from crying, "Well, the more I find out about her, the more I love her." Both of us are now looking out my window. I see both of our fathers working on a tractor in the shop. My mama went to drink a late cup of coffee with Pat's mother. I turn to Pat then say, "Call her, Pat." "Rosie, this is Pat. I've come to visit you, sweetie." A tiny light flashes, then Rosie appears, "Thank you, Pat." Rosie reaches over then hugs her. All three us sit on the bed. I speak up, "Rosie, we're trying to help you. But we need you to remember some more things." "I'll try," Rosie answers like a true southern lady. Pat takes her hand in hers, "Rosie, is Horatio Pettibone, your father?" She looks down for a moment then says, "Yes, that evil man is my father." The light within Rosie flashes brighter. We can almost see her now. Rosie's brown hair is long and curly, and her face is like that of an angel. We can even see the stitches along the scar on her cheek. She has on a beautiful blue velvet dress with white lace trim around the neck. Rosie starts to wiggle her toes, then says, "Look, I can see my toes." All three of us start to laugh. "It's true, isn't it, Eli? The more Rosie remembers, the more we can see her." Pat studies her dress then gently rubs the velvet between her fingers. "Yeah." I tap Rosie on the shoulder then she turns to me, "How long have you been here, Rosie?" "For a long time, Eli. Many families have lived in this house, but none of them had any slaves." "That's why they fought the Civil War, to end slavery. President Lincoln freed all slaves in 1864. Didn't Pettibone free his slaves at the end of the War.?" I love her big blue eyes. Rosie covers her eyes to hide her tears, "I don't remember. I can't remember, please don't make me!" Pat slowly pulls her hands from her eyes, "Rosie, when was the last time you saw your mother?" Rosie smiles, "Oh, long, long ago. I can barely remember her face." I speak up, "We want to get you home to your mother, Rosie. That's why we need you to remember what happened the day Pettibone came home from the war." I smile at her then rub the side of her face. "For you, Eli, I'll try." Rosie closes her eyes, "I loved mother's room. It was always full of flowers. Mother and I were so happy that day. For the first time in our lives, we were free. Mother was packing things fast. She wanted to be off this farm before the Master got home. Suddenly, there's a scream in the distance, then a gunshot, then another. Mother ran to the window. She looked back at me then said, "You go hide, child." Mother had a furious look on her face then she stormed out the door. I waited for a moment then followed her, out of sight. Standing at the front door, I see the Master with a pistol in each hand, shooting everybody in sight. My friends were running in all directions. The fire would fly out of the Master's gun. They would fall in agony, and if that didn't kill them, he would quickly walk over then finish the job with an evil smile." Rosie looks at me with tears streaming down her cheeks, falling on her dress. "I don't want to remember anymore, Eli." "I know it's hard to face our past. Do it for your mother, Rosie. She wants you to." Slowly, I smile at her. Pat gently squeezes her hand. Rosie straightens up, wipes her eyes, "Yes, she would." She closes her eyes again. "Mother marched straight up to the Master then screamed at him, "You can't do this, we's free!" He quickly shot her in the head, and she fell flat in the dirt. I screamed, then ran towards her. The Master turned towards me while reloading his pistol. I saw the devil in his eyes and smile. I ran so fast towards the Master's house to hide, but he was right behind me. When I reached the door, two shots rang out, one hit the door, and the other hit the frame beside my face. I ran towards the library. There's a secret hiding place beside the fireplace. I was almost to the secret door when another shot rang out. A searing pain erupted in my neck. I remember falling into the fire, but that's all." The light flashes again, now Rosie is visible. She opens her eyes, and the tears return. Pat can't hold it in any longer, through the sobs she says, "Oh my goodness, Eli! He burned her up in the fire." We fall into each other, in a sea of tears. After a few minutes, I wipe my eyes, "Okay, we know what we have to do now. We have to get you out of the fireplace then bring you home to your mother." Rosie smiles at me, "That'll be easier said than done, Eli. The Master is still there." Pat finishes wiping her eyes, then asks, "What do you mean, Rosie?" Rosie turns to Pat, "The huge portrait over the fireplace, is the Master." Pat nods her head, "So, that's who that ugly man is. I always wondered. The fireplace soot covers it so badly you can barely see a face. But the eyes always seem to follow me when I'm in there." Rosie frowns, "His eyes, never missed a thing. He could see someone not working two fields away. They would pay when they came in from the fields." "That's all right, Rosie. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve for him. If your mother was half as beautiful as you are, she was truly a lovely lady." Pat and I smile while Rosie blushes a little. ~ I hear the old clock in the hall gently ring twelve times, then fold my covers back. I'm already dressed, packed up, and ready to go. My backpack is sitting at the end of the bed. Two flashlights sit on my dresser, and my phone is in my pocket. We need to be done by six o'clock in the morning before our mamas get up. Everybody sleeps in on Sundays. Quietly I ask, "Are you ready, Rosie?" The light flashes brighter now then Rosie appears, smiling, "Mother told me stories about Knights in shining amour, rescuing damsels in distress. Are you my Knight in shining amour, Eli?" It's my turn to blush now. "I guess I am." I reach my hand out for hers, and she gently places her hand in mine. I can feel the soft texture of her tan skin against mine. Before we leave, I look in the mirror on my dresser. I'm somewhat short for a hero. I've got the blond hair and green eyes for it, though. Rosie leans over then kisses me on the cheek. I'm blushing now. Stepping off the front porch with Rosie's hand in mine, we take off for the Master's house. Pat is waiting for us on the front steps, "Hi guys." Pat hugs Rosie then says, "I've heard loud breathing in the library, all night. I think the Master is expecting us." I smile at both of them then say, "Good, we won't have to hunt him down." Pat and Rosie are astounded at my bravery when I start up the steps. We walk through the front door, but Rosie stops for a second to look at the door frame. I think she sees the spot where Pettibone missed her. In the foyer, we hear the heavy breathing coming from the library. We slowly walk by the staircase leading to the second floor. The only two lights on are in the kitchen light and the one at the top of the stairs. The breathing stops when we reach the door. The same evil feeling comes over me again, but I'm not afraid. I turn back to Pat, her eyes are enormous, and Rosie is hiding behind her, "Don't be afraid, that's what Pettibone is counting on." I watch Pat's face change. "You're right, and he wants us afraid." Pat smiles. "So, what's the plan, Eli?" "Let's go talk to him then see what happens." Rosie's eyes are huge when I kick open the door. I flip the light on, but it doesn't help much. There he is, Horatio D. Pettibone, looming in front of the fireplace. He's a huge, black, shadowy figure with bright red eyes watching my every move. "Here Pat, keep this flashlight on me." She takes the flashlight then turns it on. I start walking towards him with a light at my back. I want him to see that I'm not afraid of him. "Well, well, well, what do we have here. A coward that likes to beat women and children with his whip." An evil growl comes from within the dark shape, then a deep, hellish voice erupts, "Who do you think you are, BOY! I'm the Master here. I'll beat you to death with my whip, just like every other slave!" He throws his whip out on the floor - the tip lands at my feet. I kick the whip out of my way. "I don't think so, Horatio!" The light falls off me for a moment, and I look at Pat. She's stunned, and Rosie looks like she's going to faint if a ghost can faint. "Pat, the light!" "Oh yeah." She shines the light on me again. Pettibone sees Rosie standing at the door then growls, "What's that worthless slave doing in my house?" "Oh, you mean your daughter! She's with me, and we're here to collect her remains from the fireplace." I'm trying to sound cocky, which isn't my strong suit. Pettibone increases in size until his huge burning red eyes are right above me, glaring. "I'll break you in half, BOY, then feed you to my hogs for supper!" The light falls again, and I quickly turn just when Pat picks up the flashlight. There's Rosie behind the library door peeping out with one eye. I flash a confident smile at both of them then turn back to Pettibone, "No, you won't, because I know your secret!" Pettibone growls in that hellish voice, "What secret?" "You don't think you're dead, do you?" I proudly smile at him. Pettibone slams his gigantic fist down right beside me. "I'll never DIE!" The light leaves me again when Rosie and Pat run out the door. It finds me, both of them barely peeping in. Turning back to Pettibone, I pull my phone out of my pocket. "No, you're already dead. I want to show you a picture of your tombstone!" "Nooo!" Pettibone shrinks to his original size. "Look here, Pettibone. This one says you died on April twenty-ninth, 1865. So you've been dead for 150 years." I start to see shadows retreating in the darkness then begin to back out the door. "I hope one of your surviving slaves shot you in the head!" "Nooo! I won't look." Then Pettibone sees the shadows moving towards him. They're coming to drag him to his grave. "Well, let me tell you where your tombstone is, Pettibone! It's in the northern part of the farm, where you had all your slaves buried in unmarked graves. To hide them!" The retreating shadows begin to drag him in that direction. "I think you're about visit your grave, Pettibone. For the very first time!" The shadows screech in delight, dragging Pettibone away. "AAAaaaahhhh." His screaming voice fades in the darkness. Silence fills the library. Light fills the room again like it never did before, Pat and Rosie run to me. Pat grabs me then kisses me on the cheek, "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen in my life. How did you know what to do, Eli?" "In a lot of the ghost stories I've read, most ghosts, don't know they're dead. When you prove it to them they're drawn back to the graves they belong in." Rosie lovingly rubs my cheek then asks, "Well, I know I'm dead, Eli. Why am I still here?" "That's easy. It's because you don't have a grave yet." Looking down at the floor, with a quiver in my voice, "Right now, I'm not sure I want to dig you one." I look back at her with tears in my eyes then say, "I love you, Rosie." Rosie smiles gently puts her arms around my neck then kisses me. Right on the mouth. My first kiss from a beautiful girl and she's a ghost. I see Pat blush a little then smile. The sun is starting to rise slowly. Pat and I are tamping down the last of the dirt down in Rosie's grave. Rosie hasn't been with us since we were in the library. I think she'd gone as far as she could. I'm missing her already, and I see it in Pat's eyes, too. We both kneel before Rosie's grave. Pat prays, "Dear God, please help our wonderful friend, find her mother. Amen." Standing up first, I take Pat's hand to help her up. She stands then puts both her arms around my neck. We touch foreheads, and she smiles, "You know, Eli. You're pretty cool for a boy!" "You're pretty cool yourself, Pat, for a girl!" We start to walk home, arm in arm. A light flashes behind us, both of us quickly turn. Standing there, smiling and hugging Rosie, is Lucinda Johnson. Rosie blows us both a kiss. The light flashes again.
Pat and I are sitting under the shade tree in the back yard. We're breaking up twigs then throwing them. She always throws hers out in the bright sun.
For some reason, I can't get mine out of the shade. The yellow Maple leaves are falling around us. I'm looking out across the harvested cornfield that separates our two old farmhouses trying to make her believe me, "I tell you, Pat, she's real. Rosie comes to me almost every night. We talk a little or play checkers." Here's mama coming out the back door with clothes to hang out. "What's she look like, Eli?" Pat brushes her long black hair out of her face. The warm, late September breeze, blows it right back. "Well, all I see are two beautiful blue eyes, the shape of a tiny little nose along with a beautiful smile. It's prettier than mama's smile." "You mean to tell me, she ain't got nobody, Eli?" Pat smiles in disbelief. "She's invisible, all I can tell you is she knows how to move checkers around. Ever since I taught her how to play, she's been whooping my butt. I don't know if she walks or even has legs, but she sure gets around. I can feel her when she arrives in my room. It's like the hairs on the back of my neck start to tingle. I ain't seen her anywhere else in the house, but I've felt her in other rooms." "Eli, you're an only child who made up Rosie. We're going to start calling you 'Eli the wacko'!" Pat laughs then lays back against the old tree. "Why don't you and Mikey spend the night? You can meet Rosie then!" I put my best smile on Pat. "My mom ain't letting me spend the night with a boy. I'm eleven!" Pat shakes her head at me. "Well, I'm ten. If your mama thinks we're going to get romantic, I can tell you right now. That ain't happening. All that kissing and hugging, yuk! Besides, Mikey will be there." Pat's thinking hard, "That might work." "It will if you're not afraid, Pat." My smile dares her. Pat looks me in the eye with determination, "I'll go ask my mom, right now!" "So will I!" ~ Both missions were successful, and now my small bedroom is full on this Friday night. We pulled two extra mattresses from the attic then put them beside my bed. Mama put new sheets on both, with my help. Pat and Mikey are playing checkers on my bed, and I'm sitting in the old broken chair that dad threw out. It took me a whole week to fix it, but I was determined to have a chair of my own. Two boards, a bunch of screws, a few nails and a pillow later. I had my a chair. I love this book I got at the school library. "Scary Stories, To Tell In The Dark" by Alvin Schwartz. Everybody at school is reading the series with its dancing bones, walking corpses and ghosts galore. Thump, thump, thump! "Triple jump and I win again, Pat. Hoo, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Mikey uses his spooky laugh. He has the funniest smile with no front teeth. "I can't believe you beat me again? You're only six years old and in the first grade!" Slowly, Pat shakes her head. Mikey smiles at her, "Play again, Pat?" "No, thank you, you crushed my ego enough. I think I'll play Minecraft on my phone." Pat turns to me, then asks, "What are you reading, Eli?" "The first book in that Scary Stories series. It's good. If you guys want to, we can watch a scary movie or two. I brought some DVD'S upstairs." Pat smiles, "No thanks, Mikey would be up all night. I've read all three in the series, and that's the best one. No wonder you have invisible friends, Eli. Look at what you're watching and reading?" "I'll have you know that I also watch "The Walking Dead" every Sunday with my dad. I ain't seeing no zombies. This book ain't nothing compared to that." Suddenly, Pat and Mikey freeze. I feel the hair on the back of my neck start to tingle. They both turn to me when I say, "She's here." Pat and Mikey slowly walk over and stand beside me, but Rosie still won't show herself. Putting my book down, I slowly walk over to my bed then sit down, "It's okay, Rosie. They're my friends." A tiny light quickly flashes, then Rosie appears, just like I said. Two big blue eyes, a little button nose, and a beautiful smile. "What are their names, Eli?" Rosie asks with her deep southern drawl. Then a bottom print appears on my bed when she sits down. "My name is Patricia, Rosie. But all my friends call me Pat." She reaches out her hand for Rosie to shake. I can see the indent of an invisible thumb press against Pat's hand. Pat smiles when she feels Rosie's hand squeeze hers. "May I call you, Pat?" Rosie asks, so polite. "Why, of course. I'd like you to meet my younger brother, Mikey." Mikey's eyes are huge! He slowly waves, "Hi, I have to pee." He runs out of there like a scared rabbit, holding himself. All three of us bust out laughing. Pat sits on the edge of my bed then turns to Rosie and asks, "How old are you, Rosie, and do you have a last name?" "Let me think. It's hard for me to remember things." Rosie's eyes study the floor for a moment, "Yes, my last name is Pettibone." Her eyes look towards the window then back to us in a flash. "I remember now, I'm ten." It's my turn now, "Where do you live, Rosie?" Pat and I watch Rosie bite her lower lip slightly, "I believe this is my room, right here. Mama and I have the whole second floor to ourselves. All the others live downstairs." Rosie smiles at Pat, "I love your hair, Pat, it's so long and pretty." A lock of Pat's hair rises from her shoulder, and we watch it twirl in the air around unseen fingers. Rosie leans in then smells Pat's hair, "Are those strawberries in your hair?" Pat smiles, "I love my strawberry shampoo and conditioner." Rosie pulls back Pat's hair from her ear. Her blue eyes study the stone in her ear lobe. "What a beautiful stone on your ear, how does it stay there?" Pat pulls back her ear to show Rosie, "I had my ears pierced. There's a back holding it in place." I can't believe Pat's smile. She's found a new best friend. "Rosie," smiling, she turns back to me, "What's your mother's name?" "That, I can easily remember, Lucinda Johnson. That's not her African name, though." Her voice seems to be getting a little more southern the more she remembers. I notice you can see more of her. I can see the shape of her hands and face, "Do you see this, Pat?" Pat reaches up with her finger then traces the outline of her oval face, "You're beautiful, Rosie. Where did you get that scar on your cheek?" Rosie looks down for a moment, "Oh, the Master gave it to me. I didn't move fast enough getting his coffee, one morning. It bled like the dickens, but I never cried. Even when they sewed it up." Pat and I look at each other, then ask, "The Master?" All of a sudden, Mikey busts through my bedroom door with my mama and hollers, "See there Mrs. Washington. I told you Pat and Eli got a ghost in here." Rosie had already disappeared, I have my book in my hand, and Pat is playing on her phone. I speak up, "What ghost Mikey? Did those stories, scare you?" Mama smiles, then looks down at Mikey, "Do you want to spend the night, son?" "No, ma'am. I ain't staying in no room with a ghost in it!" Mikey shakes his head no. "Eli, will you and Pat walk Mikey home?" Mama smiles at us both. "Of course, mama. Let me get my flashlight." I head to my closet. "I'll have to go to Mrs. Washington. Mama won't let me spend the night alone." Pat looks dejected. Mama smiles, then runs her fingers through her hair, "I understand, sweetie. You can come back anytime you want to." "Thank you." Pat and Mikey begin to pack everything up. I'm standing on the front porch of the Johnson farmhouse, waving to Pat and Mikey while they go in the front door. Slowly, I start back home when a feeling comes over me. Like somebody, evil is watching me. Turning back to the Johnson home, I don't see a thing. But I can't shake the feeling. Checking the field ahead of me and there's nothing. "Well, what do you expect, you were just talking to a ghost," I answer myself. Stepping on our front porch, I notice the porch swing. It's swaying back and forth, a tiny light flashes, then Rosie appears, "Come swing with me, Eli?" "Okay." Slowly I sit down beside her after she stops the swing. "You know that Pat likes you, Rosie." "Oh, I hope so. I think Pat is wonderful." "Tell me about the Master, Rosie?" "Well, ain't much to tell. The Master is the evil man who runs this Plantation. I do remember he always carries a riding crop for hitting the misbehaving children along with a six-foot bullwhip." Mama starts to open the door, Rosie vanishes, "What are you doing out here, Eli? Get in here so I can get back to bed." "Yes, mama." ~ The next morning, I'm getting dressed by my window Tand I see Pat heading this way in a hurry. It looks like she's carrying a big book. After mama went to bed last night, I got on the internet to find out anything about the Pettibone's in this area. There wasn't much to find. Fire destroyed everything about this area before the Civil War at the courthouse in 1884. I hear Pat knock on the front door while I'm walking down the stairs, "Is Eli up yet, Mrs. Washington?" "I'm right here, mama." Pat smiles at me, "Do I need to talk to you." Mama speaks up, "What are you two up to?" I watch her study my face to see if I'm lying or not. "We're working on a school project about the early years of Gibson county, and the huge plantations that were around here. Do you have ideas for finding out who originally owned this farm?" I use my best smile on mama, hoping she'll buy it. "Well, you can start with cemetery records. Pat, your dad, should have an old book on it in his library that will tell you. He was always fascinated with the history of this county." "I think I have what we need right here, Mrs. Washington." Pat smiles while showing her the book. "Can we go to my room to study, mama?" I flash my sweetest smile at her. "Don't let me stop you two from studying on a Saturday. Have fun." She heads for the kitchen. After closing the door, we crawl up on my bed. "I found out who the Master is." Pat opens the thick book with the 1840s on the cover to a bookmark. "It says here, that in 1843 a man by the name of Horatio D. Pettibone bought this Plantation. He named it "The Pale Horse," meaning death rides a pale horse then turned it into one of the wealthiest farms around. He was known for his brutal and ruthless treatment of his slaves. So I believe what Rosie said about riding crop and bullwhip. It says here that all the other farmers thought his middle initial stood for "Devil" because of the way he acted. The cemetery records show that over two thousand slaves died in the twenty years he ran this farm. They're all buried in unmarked graves, in the northern part of the farm." "You mean to tell me, Rosie was a slave?" "No, I can't find her listed anywhere in the slaves buried there. And there's a complete list, back then, they were meticulous record keepers. I did find Lucinda Johnson. But not, her grave though. She was in charge of all the house slaves even though he bought her from a slave pen in Memphis. Here's her bill of sale, he paid a thousand dollars for her - an unheard of price for a woman slave. Reginald Owen, a rival owner, wrote in this journal that Lucinda Johnson was an African Queen and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He later offered Pettibone ten-thousand dollars for her. Pettibone said no." "Is there a map of the old farm in there?" I can't believe all the information in this book. "Yeah, it's in the back." Pat starts to unfold it. "This is our house, and it was called The Master's House. Your house was the house slave quarters. I can't tell if Rosie and her mother lived on the second floor. But everything else she said is true." "What's this spot here in the northern part of the farm?" Pat smiles at me, "A place we need to visit, Eli. That's the old cemetery, where many of our answers dwell." "Yeah, that's what mama said. What's all these marks with numbers beside them, Pat?" "Those are the unmarked graves of all the slaves. The number goes with the list of slaves in the front." "Rosie ain't part of them, wonder why?" Pat smiles at me, "That's why we have to go to the cemetery. Maybe her grave is there, and it just didn't get recorded?" "To me, that's not the big question. Why is Rosie's last name, Pettibone?" Pat looks out the window for a second, then back to me with a big smile, "I hadn't thought about that." ~ We took off right after lunch. Pat and I look back at our fathers harvesting a vast soybean field in the south part of the farm. They must be a mile away. We can almost see the whole farm from where we're standing. Our families each own separate parts of the farm, but to cut down on costs, both families work it together. It's been a long walk across the three fields that leads to the old cemetery. Dark gray clouds begin to roll in from the north, the closer we get. At the edge of the harvested cornfield is an old, broken-down wooden fence. Tall prairie grass blocks the entrance, so Pat and I step over a low spot. "This must be where the unmarked graves start. What's that sticking up back there?" Pat asks. "I don't know. It looks like a stone tower. Hey, I bet it's part of a tombstone. I've seen fancy tombstones like that in old books." We slowly make our way through a stone entrance while the cold wind begins to blow harder. The clouds are black and rolling in. The tall grass begins to flatten in the wind while walking up to the monument. Pat hollers over the wind, "Let's take a bunch of pictures with our phones, then we can look at them later." We start looking for tombstones, and all we find is the big one. We start pulling the grass away, and neither one of us is shocked to see the name "Pettibone" in capital letters. Pat screams above the wind, "It says here that Horatio D. Pettibone died in 1865. Right after the Civil War. Of course, he fought for the South. One of the people he abused for years, probably killed him." Walking up to take some more pictures, I trip over something. "Hey, here's another one." I pull the grass back on the small tombstone, "It's Lucinda Johnson. It says here she died in 1865, right at the end of the war. But where is Rosie's grave?" Pat looks puzzled then hollers over the howling wind, "I remember now, there's no grave marked for Lucinda Johnson on the burial chart, anywhere. Why is she buried in here?" "I think I've figured that out." Suddenly, I get the same feeling I had coming home from Pat's house last night. I take several more pictures of the entire graveyard then scream at Pat, "Come on, we better get back before the rain starts." "Okay!" We take off running out of there. The farther we get from the cemetery, the faster the storm heads the other direction. Five minutes later, it's like it was never there. I look at Pat then say, "Well, that storm was weird. Let's look at our pictures on the way home." Both of us start scanning our phones. In the last ones I took, there's a towering, dark figure with glowing red eyes in the back of the graveyard. Watching us. "Hey, Pat, is there a dark figure in the back of the graveyard in any of your pictures?" "Yeah, it's in four of mine. The ones I took when we were leaving." I look Pat in the eye then we both answer at the same time, "Pettibone." We both jump when Pat's phone rings, "Good gracious, mama. Scare me to death!" I hear Pat's mama say something, "No, I'm not doing anything wrong." Pat's mama gets a little louder this time, "I'll be right there. I got to go help her with supper." "Come over after supper. We have a lot to discuss. I'll start writing down all the questions we need to ask Rosie." Pat takes off running across the field then hollers back to me, "What was it, that you figured out?" I holler back, "That Horatio D. Pettibone is Rosie's father." Pat, stops in her tracks then turns to me with a shocked look. A big smile creeps across her face. Slowly, she takes off running again. ~ That evening, I'm sitting on the front porch gazing towards the graveyard. Questions are filling my mind. Like, why is Rosie is not buried in the cemetery? Is that why she's still here? I see Pat walking across the field. She looks puzzled for some reason. She walks silently up to me then slowly sits down beside me, "Why do you say Pettibone is Rosie's father?" "Four reasons: one, Pettibone was never married. That means Lucinda Johnson was his mistress. He couldn't marry her because she was a slave. Two, that's also why Rosie has his last name. Three, it's also why Lucinda Johnson is buried right beside Pettibone. A spot only reserved for family. Four, Rosie's eyes are blue." "Wow, Eli. It all fits, but why is Rosie still here?" Pat's eyes are big. She pushes her hair behind her ear. "I read a, supposedly true, story once about a spirit who haunted a castle because she hadn't been laid to rest. History never told what happened to her. She haunted the castle for hundreds of years until one day they found her bones walled up in a room. Once they had a burial service, her spirit was at rest. For some reason, I think Rosie was never buried." "We have to find her remains, don't we?" "Yeah, then bury her beside Lucinda Johnson. Her mother." "Eli, while I was eating supper, a thought came to me. I remember in the records that many of Pettibone's slaves died within a few days after the Civil War ended. Something bad happened here at the end of the war. If my theory is right, Pettibone came home from the Civil War defeated, but determined not to free his slaves. So he killed them." Pat looks at the ground for a second, "Including Lucinda Johnson and Rosie. He killed his daughter. What an evil man." Pat looks back to me with tears in her eyes. "There's only one person who knows, Pat." We both answer at the same time, "Rosie." "Maybe that's why she doesn't remember anything, Pat? It's too painful." "We can't help her unless she does. Do you think she's been here since the end of the Civil War?" "Yeah, I think she's been here about 150 years. She'll never rest until we find her remains." "When do you usually see Rosie at night, Eli?" "It's when the house gets quiet. About ten o'clock." "The house is quiet now. Think, she'll talk to us?" I smile at Pat, "She will if you're there, Pat. Rosie likes you. She thinks you're wonderful." Pat bites her lower lip to keep from crying, "Well, the more I find out about her, the more I love her." Both of us are now looking out my window. I see both of our fathers working on a tractor in the shop. My mama went to drink a late cup of coffee with Pat's mother. I turn to Pat then say, "Call her, Pat." "Rosie, this is Pat. I've come to visit you, sweetie." A tiny light flashes, then Rosie appears, "Thank you, Pat." Rosie reaches over then hugs her. All three us sit on the bed. I speak up, "Rosie, we're trying to help you. But we need you to remember some more things." "I'll try," Rosie answers like a true southern lady. Pat takes her hand in hers, "Rosie, is Horatio Pettibone, your father?" She looks down for a moment then says, "Yes, that evil man is my father." The light within Rosie flashes brighter. We can almost see her now. Rosie's brown hair is long and curly, and her face is like that of an angel. We can even see the stitches along the scar on her cheek. She has on a beautiful blue velvet dress with white lace trim around the neck. Rosie starts to wiggle her toes, then says, "Look, I can see my toes." All three of us start to laugh. "It's true, isn't it, Eli? The more Rosie remembers, the more we can see her." Pat studies her dress then gently rubs the velvet between her fingers. "Yeah." I tap Rosie on the shoulder then she turns to me, "How long have you been here, Rosie?" "For a long time, Eli. Many families have lived in this house, but none of them had any slaves." "That's why they fought the Civil War, to end slavery. President Lincoln freed all slaves in 1864. Didn't Pettibone free his slaves at the end of the War.?" I love her big blue eyes. Rosie covers her eyes to hide her tears, "I don't remember. I can't remember, please don't make me!" Pat slowly pulls her hands from her eyes, "Rosie, when was the last time you saw your mother?" Rosie smiles, "Oh, long, long ago. I can barely remember her face." I speak up, "We want to get you home to your mother, Rosie. That's why we need you to remember what happened the day Pettibone came home from the war." I smile at her then rub the side of her face. "For you, Eli, I'll try." Rosie closes her eyes, "I loved mother's room. It was always full of flowers. Mother and I were so happy that day. For the first time in our lives, we were free. Mother was packing things fast. She wanted to be off this farm before the Master got home. Suddenly, there's a scream in the distance, then a gunshot, then another. Mother ran to the window. She looked back at me then said, "You go hide, child." Mother had a furious look on her face then she stormed out the door. I waited for a moment then followed her, out of sight. Standing at the front door, I see the Master with a pistol in each hand, shooting everybody in sight. My friends were running in all directions. The fire would fly out of the Master's gun. They would fall in agony, and if that didn't kill them, he would quickly walk over then finish the job with an evil smile." Rosie looks at me with tears streaming down her cheeks, falling on her dress. "I don't want to remember anymore, Eli." "I know it's hard to face our past. Do it for your mother, Rosie. She wants you to." Slowly, I smile at her. Pat gently squeezes her hand. Rosie straightens up, wipes her eyes, "Yes, she would." She closes her eyes again. "Mother marched straight up to the Master then screamed at him, "You can't do this, we's free!" He quickly shot her in the head, and she fell flat in the dirt. I screamed, then ran towards her. The Master turned towards me while reloading his pistol. I saw the devil in his eyes and smile. I ran so fast towards the Master's house to hide, but he was right behind me. When I reached the door, two shots rang out, one hit the door, and the other hit the frame beside my face. I ran towards the library. There's a secret hiding place beside the fireplace. I was almost to the secret door when another shot rang out. A searing pain erupted in my neck. I remember falling into the fire, but that's all." The light flashes again, now Rosie is visible. She opens her eyes, and the tears return. Pat can't hold it in any longer, through the sobs she says, "Oh my goodness, Eli! He burned her up in the fire." We fall into each other, in a sea of tears. After a few minutes, I wipe my eyes, "Okay, we know what we have to do now. We have to get you out of the fireplace then bring you home to your mother." Rosie smiles at me, "That'll be easier said than done, Eli. The Master is still there." Pat finishes wiping her eyes, then asks, "What do you mean, Rosie?" Rosie turns to Pat, "The huge portrait over the fireplace, is the Master." Pat nods her head, "So, that's who that ugly man is. I always wondered. The fireplace soot covers it so badly you can barely see a face. But the eyes always seem to follow me when I'm in there." Rosie frowns, "His eyes, never missed a thing. He could see someone not working two fields away. They would pay when they came in from the fields." "That's all right, Rosie. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve for him. If your mother was half as beautiful as you are, she was truly a lovely lady." Pat and I smile while Rosie blushes a little. ~ I hear the old clock in the hall gently ring twelve times, then fold my covers back. I'm already dressed, packed up, and ready to go. My backpack is sitting at the end of the bed. Two flashlights sit on my dresser, and my phone is in my pocket. We need to be done by six o'clock in the morning before our mamas get up. Everybody sleeps in on Sundays. Quietly I ask, "Are you ready, Rosie?" The light flashes brighter now then Rosie appears, smiling, "Mother told me stories about Knights in shining amour, rescuing damsels in distress. Are you my Knight in shining amour, Eli?" It's my turn to blush now. "I guess I am." I reach my hand out for hers, and she gently places her hand in mine. I can feel the soft texture of her tan skin against mine. Before we leave, I look in the mirror on my dresser. I'm somewhat short for a hero. I've got the blond hair and green eyes for it, though. Rosie leans over then kisses me on the cheek. I'm blushing now. Stepping off the front porch with Rosie's hand in mine, we take off for the Master's house. Pat is waiting for us on the front steps, "Hi guys." Pat hugs Rosie then says, "I've heard loud breathing in the library, all night. I think the Master is expecting us." I smile at both of them then say, "Good, we won't have to hunt him down." Pat and Rosie are astounded at my bravery when I start up the steps. We walk through the front door, but Rosie stops for a second to look at the door frame. I think she sees the spot where Pettibone missed her. In the foyer, we hear the heavy breathing coming from the library. We slowly walk by the staircase leading to the second floor. The only two lights on are in the kitchen light and the one at the top of the stairs. The breathing stops when we reach the door. The same evil feeling comes over me again, but I'm not afraid. I turn back to Pat, her eyes are enormous, and Rosie is hiding behind her, "Don't be afraid, that's what Pettibone is counting on." I watch Pat's face change. "You're right, and he wants us afraid." Pat smiles. "So, what's the plan, Eli?" "Let's go talk to him then see what happens." Rosie's eyes are huge when I kick open the door. I flip the light on, but it doesn't help much. There he is, Horatio D. Pettibone, looming in front of the fireplace. He's a huge, black, shadowy figure with bright red eyes watching my every move. "Here Pat, keep this flashlight on me." She takes the flashlight then turns it on. I start walking towards him with a light at my back. I want him to see that I'm not afraid of him. "Well, well, well, what do we have here. A coward that likes to beat women and children with his whip." An evil growl comes from within the dark shape, then a deep, hellish voice erupts, "Who do you think you are, BOY! I'm the Master here. I'll beat you to death with my whip, just like every other slave!" He throws his whip out on the floor - the tip lands at my feet. I kick the whip out of my way. "I don't think so, Horatio!" The light falls off me for a moment, and I look at Pat. She's stunned, and Rosie looks like she's going to faint if a ghost can faint. "Pat, the light!" "Oh yeah." She shines the light on me again. Pettibone sees Rosie standing at the door then growls, "What's that worthless slave doing in my house?" "Oh, you mean your daughter! She's with me, and we're here to collect her remains from the fireplace." I'm trying to sound cocky, which isn't my strong suit. Pettibone increases in size until his huge burning red eyes are right above me, glaring. "I'll break you in half, BOY, then feed you to my hogs for supper!" The light falls again, and I quickly turn just when Pat picks up the flashlight. There's Rosie behind the library door peeping out with one eye. I flash a confident smile at both of them then turn back to Pettibone, "No, you won't, because I know your secret!" Pettibone growls in that hellish voice, "What secret?" "You don't think you're dead, do you?" I proudly smile at him. Pettibone slams his gigantic fist down right beside me. "I'll never DIE!" The light leaves me again when Rosie and Pat run out the door. It finds me, both of them barely peeping in. Turning back to Pettibone, I pull my phone out of my pocket. "No, you're already dead. I want to show you a picture of your tombstone!" "Nooo!" Pettibone shrinks to his original size. "Look here, Pettibone. This one says you died on April twenty-ninth, 1865. So you've been dead for 150 years." I start to see shadows retreating in the darkness then begin to back out the door. "I hope one of your surviving slaves shot you in the head!" "Nooo! I won't look." Then Pettibone sees the shadows moving towards him. They're coming to drag him to his grave. "Well, let me tell you where your tombstone is, Pettibone! It's in the northern part of the farm, where you had all your slaves buried in unmarked graves. To hide them!" The retreating shadows begin to drag him in that direction. "I think you're about visit your grave, Pettibone. For the very first time!" The shadows screech in delight, dragging Pettibone away. "AAAaaaahhhh." His screaming voice fades in the darkness. Silence fills the library. Light fills the room again like it never did before, Pat and Rosie run to me. Pat grabs me then kisses me on the cheek, "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen in my life. How did you know what to do, Eli?" "In a lot of the ghost stories I've read, most ghosts, don't know they're dead. When you prove it to them they're drawn back to the graves they belong in." Rosie lovingly rubs my cheek then asks, "Well, I know I'm dead, Eli. Why am I still here?" "That's easy. It's because you don't have a grave yet." Looking down at the floor, with a quiver in my voice, "Right now, I'm not sure I want to dig you one." I look back at her with tears in my eyes then say, "I love you, Rosie." Rosie smiles gently puts her arms around my neck then kisses me. Right on the mouth. My first kiss from a beautiful girl and she's a ghost. I see Pat blush a little then smile. The sun is starting to rise slowly. Pat and I are tamping down the last of the dirt down in Rosie's grave. Rosie hasn't been with us since we were in the library. I think she'd gone as far as she could. I'm missing her already, and I see it in Pat's eyes, too. We both kneel before Rosie's grave. Pat prays, "Dear God, please help our wonderful friend, find her mother. Amen." Standing up first, I take Pat's hand to help her up. She stands then puts both her arms around my neck. We touch foreheads, and she smiles, "You know, Eli. You're pretty cool for a boy!" "You're pretty cool yourself, Pat, for a girl!" We start to walk home, arm in arm. A light flashes behind us, both of us quickly turn. Standing there, smiling and hugging Rosie, is Lucinda Johnson. Rosie blows us both a kiss. The light flashes again.
For some reason, I can't get mine out of the shade. The yellow Maple leaves are falling around us. I'm looking out across the harvested cornfield that separates our two old farmhouses trying to make her believe me, "I tell you, Pat, she's real. Rosie comes to me almost every night. We talk a little or play checkers." Here's mama coming out the back door with clothes to hang out. "What's she look like, Eli?" Pat brushes her long black hair out of her face. The warm, late September breeze, blows it right back. "Well, all I see are two beautiful blue eyes, the shape of a tiny little nose along with a beautiful smile. It's prettier than mama's smile." "You mean to tell me, she ain't got nobody, Eli?" Pat smiles in disbelief. "She's invisible, all I can tell you is she knows how to move checkers around. Ever since I taught her how to play, she's been whooping my butt. I don't know if she walks or even has legs, but she sure gets around. I can feel her when she arrives in my room. It's like the hairs on the back of my neck start to tingle. I ain't seen her anywhere else in the house, but I've felt her in other rooms." "Eli, you're an only child who made up Rosie. We're going to start calling you 'Eli the wacko'!" Pat laughs then lays back against the old tree. "Why don't you and Mikey spend the night? You can meet Rosie then!" I put my best smile on Pat. "My mom ain't letting me spend the night with a boy. I'm eleven!" Pat shakes her head at me. "Well, I'm ten. If your mama thinks we're going to get romantic, I can tell you right now. That ain't happening. All that kissing and hugging, yuk! Besides, Mikey will be there." Pat's thinking hard, "That might work." "It will if you're not afraid, Pat." My smile dares her. Pat looks me in the eye with determination, "I'll go ask my mom, right now!" "So will I!" ~ Both missions were successful, and now my small bedroom is full on this Friday night. We pulled two extra mattresses from the attic then put them beside my bed. Mama put new sheets on both, with my help. Pat and Mikey are playing checkers on my bed, and I'm sitting in the old broken chair that dad threw out. It took me a whole week to fix it, but I was determined to have a chair of my own. Two boards, a bunch of screws, a few nails and a pillow later. I had my a chair. I love this book I got at the school library. "Scary Stories, To Tell In The Dark" by Alvin Schwartz. Everybody at school is reading the series with its dancing bones, walking corpses and ghosts galore. Thump, thump, thump! "Triple jump and I win again, Pat. Hoo, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Mikey uses his spooky laugh. He has the funniest smile with no front teeth. "I can't believe you beat me again? You're only six years old and in the first grade!" Slowly, Pat shakes her head. Mikey smiles at her, "Play again, Pat?" "No, thank you, you crushed my ego enough. I think I'll play Minecraft on my phone." Pat turns to me, then asks, "What are you reading, Eli?" "The first book in that Scary Stories series. It's good. If you guys want to, we can watch a scary movie or two. I brought some DVD'S upstairs." Pat smiles, "No thanks, Mikey would be up all night. I've read all three in the series, and that's the best one. No wonder you have invisible friends, Eli. Look at what you're watching and reading?" "I'll have you know that I also watch "The Walking Dead" every Sunday with my dad. I ain't seeing no zombies. This book ain't nothing compared to that." Suddenly, Pat and Mikey freeze. I feel the hair on the back of my neck start to tingle. They both turn to me when I say, "She's here." Pat and Mikey slowly walk over and stand beside me, but Rosie still won't show herself. Putting my book down, I slowly walk over to my bed then sit down, "It's okay, Rosie. They're my friends." A tiny light quickly flashes, then Rosie appears, just like I said. Two big blue eyes, a little button nose, and a beautiful smile. "What are their names, Eli?" Rosie asks with her deep southern drawl. Then a bottom print appears on my bed when she sits down. "My name is Patricia, Rosie. But all my friends call me Pat." She reaches out her hand for Rosie to shake. I can see the indent of an invisible thumb press against Pat's hand. Pat smiles when she feels Rosie's hand squeeze hers. "May I call you, Pat?" Rosie asks, so polite. "Why, of course. I'd like you to meet my younger brother, Mikey." Mikey's eyes are huge! He slowly waves, "Hi, I have to pee." He runs out of there like a scared rabbit, holding himself. All three of us bust out laughing. Pat sits on the edge of my bed then turns to Rosie and asks, "How old are you, Rosie, and do you have a last name?" "Let me think. It's hard for me to remember things." Rosie's eyes study the floor for a moment, "Yes, my last name is Pettibone." Her eyes look towards the window then back to us in a flash. "I remember now, I'm ten." It's my turn now, "Where do you live, Rosie?" Pat and I watch Rosie bite her lower lip slightly, "I believe this is my room, right here. Mama and I have the whole second floor to ourselves. All the others live downstairs." Rosie smiles at Pat, "I love your hair, Pat, it's so long and pretty." A lock of Pat's hair rises from her shoulder, and we watch it twirl in the air around unseen fingers. Rosie leans in then smells Pat's hair, "Are those strawberries in your hair?" Pat smiles, "I love my strawberry shampoo and conditioner." Rosie pulls back Pat's hair from her ear. Her blue eyes study the stone in her ear lobe. "What a beautiful stone on your ear, how does it stay there?" Pat pulls back her ear to show Rosie, "I had my ears pierced. There's a back holding it in place." I can't believe Pat's smile. She's found a new best friend. "Rosie," smiling, she turns back to me, "What's your mother's name?" "That, I can easily remember, Lucinda Johnson. That's not her African name, though." Her voice seems to be getting a little more southern the more she remembers. I notice you can see more of her. I can see the shape of her hands and face, "Do you see this, Pat?" Pat reaches up with her finger then traces the outline of her oval face, "You're beautiful, Rosie. Where did you get that scar on your cheek?" Rosie looks down for a moment, "Oh, the Master gave it to me. I didn't move fast enough getting his coffee, one morning. It bled like the dickens, but I never cried. Even when they sewed it up." Pat and I look at each other, then ask, "The Master?" All of a sudden, Mikey busts through my bedroom door with my mama and hollers, "See there Mrs. Washington. I told you Pat and Eli got a ghost in here." Rosie had already disappeared, I have my book in my hand, and Pat is playing on her phone. I speak up, "What ghost Mikey? Did those stories, scare you?" Mama smiles, then looks down at Mikey, "Do you want to spend the night, son?" "No, ma'am. I ain't staying in no room with a ghost in it!" Mikey shakes his head no. "Eli, will you and Pat walk Mikey home?" Mama smiles at us both. "Of course, mama. Let me get my flashlight." I head to my closet. "I'll have to go to Mrs. Washington. Mama won't let me spend the night alone." Pat looks dejected. Mama smiles, then runs her fingers through her hair, "I understand, sweetie. You can come back anytime you want to." "Thank you." Pat and Mikey begin to pack everything up. I'm standing on the front porch of the Johnson farmhouse, waving to Pat and Mikey while they go in the front door. Slowly, I start back home when a feeling comes over me. Like somebody, evil is watching me. Turning back to the Johnson home, I don't see a thing. But I can't shake the feeling. Checking the field ahead of me and there's nothing. "Well, what do you expect, you were just talking to a ghost," I answer myself. Stepping on our front porch, I notice the porch swing. It's swaying back and forth, a tiny light flashes, then Rosie appears, "Come swing with me, Eli?" "Okay." Slowly I sit down beside her after she stops the swing. "You know that Pat likes you, Rosie." "Oh, I hope so. I think Pat is wonderful." "Tell me about the Master, Rosie?" "Well, ain't much to tell. The Master is the evil man who runs this Plantation. I do remember he always carries a riding crop for hitting the misbehaving children along with a six-foot bullwhip." Mama starts to open the door, Rosie vanishes, "What are you doing out here, Eli? Get in here so I can get back to bed." "Yes, mama." ~ The next morning, I'm getting dressed by my window Tand I see Pat heading this way in a hurry. It looks like she's carrying a big book. After mama went to bed last night, I got on the internet to find out anything about the Pettibone's in this area. There wasn't much to find. Fire destroyed everything about this area before the Civil War at the courthouse in 1884. I hear Pat knock on the front door while I'm walking down the stairs, "Is Eli up yet, Mrs. Washington?" "I'm right here, mama." Pat smiles at me, "Do I need to talk to you." Mama speaks up, "What are you two up to?" I watch her study my face to see if I'm lying or not. "We're working on a school project about the early years of Gibson county, and the huge plantations that were around here. Do you have ideas for finding out who originally owned this farm?" I use my best smile on mama, hoping she'll buy it. "Well, you can start with cemetery records. Pat, your dad, should have an old book on it in his library that will tell you. He was always fascinated with the history of this county." "I think I have what we need right here, Mrs. Washington." Pat smiles while showing her the book. "Can we go to my room to study, mama?" I flash my sweetest smile at her. "Don't let me stop you two from studying on a Saturday. Have fun." She heads for the kitchen. After closing the door, we crawl up on my bed. "I found out who the Master is." Pat opens the thick book with the 1840s on the cover to a bookmark. "It says here, that in 1843 a man by the name of Horatio D. Pettibone bought this Plantation. He named it "The Pale Horse," meaning death rides a pale horse then turned it into one of the wealthiest farms around. He was known for his brutal and ruthless treatment of his slaves. So I believe what Rosie said about riding crop and bullwhip. It says here that all the other farmers thought his middle initial stood for "Devil" because of the way he acted. The cemetery records show that over two thousand slaves died in the twenty years he ran this farm. They're all buried in unmarked graves, in the northern part of the farm." "You mean to tell me, Rosie was a slave?" "No, I can't find her listed anywhere in the slaves buried there. And there's a complete list, back then, they were meticulous record keepers. I did find Lucinda Johnson. But not, her grave though. She was in charge of all the house slaves even though he bought her from a slave pen in Memphis. Here's her bill of sale, he paid a thousand dollars for her - an unheard of price for a woman slave. Reginald Owen, a rival owner, wrote in this journal that Lucinda Johnson was an African Queen and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He later offered Pettibone ten-thousand dollars for her. Pettibone said no." "Is there a map of the old farm in there?" I can't believe all the information in this book. "Yeah, it's in the back." Pat starts to unfold it. "This is our house, and it was called The Master's House. Your house was the house slave quarters. I can't tell if Rosie and her mother lived on the second floor. But everything else she said is true." "What's this spot here in the northern part of the farm?" Pat smiles at me, "A place we need to visit, Eli. That's the old cemetery, where many of our answers dwell." "Yeah, that's what mama said. What's all these marks with numbers beside them, Pat?" "Those are the unmarked graves of all the slaves. The number goes with the list of slaves in the front." "Rosie ain't part of them, wonder why?" Pat smiles at me, "That's why we have to go to the cemetery. Maybe her grave is there, and it just didn't get recorded?" "To me, that's not the big question. Why is Rosie's last name, Pettibone?" Pat looks out the window for a second, then back to me with a big smile, "I hadn't thought about that." ~ We took off right after lunch. Pat and I look back at our fathers harvesting a vast soybean field in the south part of the farm. They must be a mile away. We can almost see the whole farm from where we're standing. Our families each own separate parts of the farm, but to cut down on costs, both families work it together. It's been a long walk across the three fields that leads to the old cemetery. Dark gray clouds begin to roll in from the north, the closer we get. At the edge of the harvested cornfield is an old, broken-down wooden fence. Tall prairie grass blocks the entrance, so Pat and I step over a low spot. "This must be where the unmarked graves start. What's that sticking up back there?" Pat asks. "I don't know. It looks like a stone tower. Hey, I bet it's part of a tombstone. I've seen fancy tombstones like that in old books." We slowly make our way through a stone entrance while the cold wind begins to blow harder. The clouds are black and rolling in. The tall grass begins to flatten in the wind while walking up to the monument. Pat hollers over the wind, "Let's take a bunch of pictures with our phones, then we can look at them later." We start looking for tombstones, and all we find is the big one. We start pulling the grass away, and neither one of us is shocked to see the name "Pettibone" in capital letters. Pat screams above the wind, "It says here that Horatio D. Pettibone died in 1865. Right after the Civil War. Of course, he fought for the South. One of the people he abused for years, probably killed him." Walking up to take some more pictures, I trip over something. "Hey, here's another one." I pull the grass back on the small tombstone, "It's Lucinda Johnson. It says here she died in 1865, right at the end of the war. But where is Rosie's grave?" Pat looks puzzled then hollers over the howling wind, "I remember now, there's no grave marked for Lucinda Johnson on the burial chart, anywhere. Why is she buried in here?" "I think I've figured that out." Suddenly, I get the same feeling I had coming home from Pat's house last night. I take several more pictures of the entire graveyard then scream at Pat, "Come on, we better get back before the rain starts." "Okay!" We take off running out of there. The farther we get from the cemetery, the faster the storm heads the other direction. Five minutes later, it's like it was never there. I look at Pat then say, "Well, that storm was weird. Let's look at our pictures on the way home." Both of us start scanning our phones. In the last ones I took, there's a towering, dark figure with glowing red eyes in the back of the graveyard. Watching us. "Hey, Pat, is there a dark figure in the back of the graveyard in any of your pictures?" "Yeah, it's in four of mine. The ones I took when we were leaving." I look Pat in the eye then we both answer at the same time, "Pettibone." We both jump when Pat's phone rings, "Good gracious, mama. Scare me to death!" I hear Pat's mama say something, "No, I'm not doing anything wrong." Pat's mama gets a little louder this time, "I'll be right there. I got to go help her with supper." "Come over after supper. We have a lot to discuss. I'll start writing down all the questions we need to ask Rosie." Pat takes off running across the field then hollers back to me, "What was it, that you figured out?" I holler back, "That Horatio D. Pettibone is Rosie's father." Pat, stops in her tracks then turns to me with a shocked look. A big smile creeps across her face. Slowly, she takes off running again. ~ That evening, I'm sitting on the front porch gazing towards the graveyard. Questions are filling my mind. Like, why is Rosie is not buried in the cemetery? Is that why she's still here? I see Pat walking across the field. She looks puzzled for some reason. She walks silently up to me then slowly sits down beside me, "Why do you say Pettibone is Rosie's father?" "Four reasons: one, Pettibone was never married. That means Lucinda Johnson was his mistress. He couldn't marry her because she was a slave. Two, that's also why Rosie has his last name. Three, it's also why Lucinda Johnson is buried right beside Pettibone. A spot only reserved for family. Four, Rosie's eyes are blue." "Wow, Eli. It all fits, but why is Rosie still here?" Pat's eyes are big. She pushes her hair behind her ear. "I read a, supposedly true, story once about a spirit who haunted a castle because she hadn't been laid to rest. History never told what happened to her. She haunted the castle for hundreds of years until one day they found her bones walled up in a room. Once they had a burial service, her spirit was at rest. For some reason, I think Rosie was never buried." "We have to find her remains, don't we?" "Yeah, then bury her beside Lucinda Johnson. Her mother." "Eli, while I was eating supper, a thought came to me. I remember in the records that many of Pettibone's slaves died within a few days after the Civil War ended. Something bad happened here at the end of the war. If my theory is right, Pettibone came home from the Civil War defeated, but determined not to free his slaves. So he killed them." Pat looks at the ground for a second, "Including Lucinda Johnson and Rosie. He killed his daughter. What an evil man." Pat looks back to me with tears in her eyes. "There's only one person who knows, Pat." We both answer at the same time, "Rosie." "Maybe that's why she doesn't remember anything, Pat? It's too painful." "We can't help her unless she does. Do you think she's been here since the end of the Civil War?" "Yeah, I think she's been here about 150 years. She'll never rest until we find her remains." "When do you usually see Rosie at night, Eli?" "It's when the house gets quiet. About ten o'clock." "The house is quiet now. Think, she'll talk to us?" I smile at Pat, "She will if you're there, Pat. Rosie likes you. She thinks you're wonderful." Pat bites her lower lip to keep from crying, "Well, the more I find out about her, the more I love her." Both of us are now looking out my window. I see both of our fathers working on a tractor in the shop. My mama went to drink a late cup of coffee with Pat's mother. I turn to Pat then say, "Call her, Pat." "Rosie, this is Pat. I've come to visit you, sweetie." A tiny light flashes, then Rosie appears, "Thank you, Pat." Rosie reaches over then hugs her. All three us sit on the bed. I speak up, "Rosie, we're trying to help you. But we need you to remember some more things." "I'll try," Rosie answers like a true southern lady. Pat takes her hand in hers, "Rosie, is Horatio Pettibone, your father?" She looks down for a moment then says, "Yes, that evil man is my father." The light within Rosie flashes brighter. We can almost see her now. Rosie's brown hair is long and curly, and her face is like that of an angel. We can even see the stitches along the scar on her cheek. She has on a beautiful blue velvet dress with white lace trim around the neck. Rosie starts to wiggle her toes, then says, "Look, I can see my toes." All three of us start to laugh. "It's true, isn't it, Eli? The more Rosie remembers, the more we can see her." Pat studies her dress then gently rubs the velvet between her fingers. "Yeah." I tap Rosie on the shoulder then she turns to me, "How long have you been here, Rosie?" "For a long time, Eli. Many families have lived in this house, but none of them had any slaves." "That's why they fought the Civil War, to end slavery. President Lincoln freed all slaves in 1864. Didn't Pettibone free his slaves at the end of the War.?" I love her big blue eyes. Rosie covers her eyes to hide her tears, "I don't remember. I can't remember, please don't make me!" Pat slowly pulls her hands from her eyes, "Rosie, when was the last time you saw your mother?" Rosie smiles, "Oh, long, long ago. I can barely remember her face." I speak up, "We want to get you home to your mother, Rosie. That's why we need you to remember what happened the day Pettibone came home from the war." I smile at her then rub the side of her face. "For you, Eli, I'll try." Rosie closes her eyes, "I loved mother's room. It was always full of flowers. Mother and I were so happy that day. For the first time in our lives, we were free. Mother was packing things fast. She wanted to be off this farm before the Master got home. Suddenly, there's a scream in the distance, then a gunshot, then another. Mother ran to the window. She looked back at me then said, "You go hide, child." Mother had a furious look on her face then she stormed out the door. I waited for a moment then followed her, out of sight. Standing at the front door, I see the Master with a pistol in each hand, shooting everybody in sight. My friends were running in all directions. The fire would fly out of the Master's gun. They would fall in agony, and if that didn't kill them, he would quickly walk over then finish the job with an evil smile." Rosie looks at me with tears streaming down her cheeks, falling on her dress. "I don't want to remember anymore, Eli." "I know it's hard to face our past. Do it for your mother, Rosie. She wants you to." Slowly, I smile at her. Pat gently squeezes her hand. Rosie straightens up, wipes her eyes, "Yes, she would." She closes her eyes again. "Mother marched straight up to the Master then screamed at him, "You can't do this, we's free!" He quickly shot her in the head, and she fell flat in the dirt. I screamed, then ran towards her. The Master turned towards me while reloading his pistol. I saw the devil in his eyes and smile. I ran so fast towards the Master's house to hide, but he was right behind me. When I reached the door, two shots rang out, one hit the door, and the other hit the frame beside my face. I ran towards the library. There's a secret hiding place beside the fireplace. I was almost to the secret door when another shot rang out. A searing pain erupted in my neck. I remember falling into the fire, but that's all." The light flashes again, now Rosie is visible. She opens her eyes, and the tears return. Pat can't hold it in any longer, through the sobs she says, "Oh my goodness, Eli! He burned her up in the fire." We fall into each other, in a sea of tears. After a few minutes, I wipe my eyes, "Okay, we know what we have to do now. We have to get you out of the fireplace then bring you home to your mother." Rosie smiles at me, "That'll be easier said than done, Eli. The Master is still there." Pat finishes wiping her eyes, then asks, "What do you mean, Rosie?" Rosie turns to Pat, "The huge portrait over the fireplace, is the Master." Pat nods her head, "So, that's who that ugly man is. I always wondered. The fireplace soot covers it so badly you can barely see a face. But the eyes always seem to follow me when I'm in there." Rosie frowns, "His eyes, never missed a thing. He could see someone not working two fields away. They would pay when they came in from the fields." "That's all right, Rosie. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve for him. If your mother was half as beautiful as you are, she was truly a lovely lady." Pat and I smile while Rosie blushes a little. ~ I hear the old clock in the hall gently ring twelve times, then fold my covers back. I'm already dressed, packed up, and ready to go. My backpack is sitting at the end of the bed. Two flashlights sit on my dresser, and my phone is in my pocket. We need to be done by six o'clock in the morning before our mamas get up. Everybody sleeps in on Sundays. Quietly I ask, "Are you ready, Rosie?" The light flashes brighter now then Rosie appears, smiling, "Mother told me stories about Knights in shining amour, rescuing damsels in distress. Are you my Knight in shining amour, Eli?" It's my turn to blush now. "I guess I am." I reach my hand out for hers, and she gently places her hand in mine. I can feel the soft texture of her tan skin against mine. Before we leave, I look in the mirror on my dresser. I'm somewhat short for a hero. I've got the blond hair and green eyes for it, though. Rosie leans over then kisses me on the cheek. I'm blushing now. Stepping off the front porch with Rosie's hand in mine, we take off for the Master's house. Pat is waiting for us on the front steps, "Hi guys." Pat hugs Rosie then says, "I've heard loud breathing in the library, all night. I think the Master is expecting us." I smile at both of them then say, "Good, we won't have to hunt him down." Pat and Rosie are astounded at my bravery when I start up the steps. We walk through the front door, but Rosie stops for a second to look at the door frame. I think she sees the spot where Pettibone missed her. In the foyer, we hear the heavy breathing coming from the library. We slowly walk by the staircase leading to the second floor. The only two lights on are in the kitchen light and the one at the top of the stairs. The breathing stops when we reach the door. The same evil feeling comes over me again, but I'm not afraid. I turn back to Pat, her eyes are enormous, and Rosie is hiding behind her, "Don't be afraid, that's what Pettibone is counting on." I watch Pat's face change. "You're right, and he wants us afraid." Pat smiles. "So, what's the plan, Eli?" "Let's go talk to him then see what happens." Rosie's eyes are huge when I kick open the door. I flip the light on, but it doesn't help much. There he is, Horatio D. Pettibone, looming in front of the fireplace. He's a huge, black, shadowy figure with bright red eyes watching my every move. "Here Pat, keep this flashlight on me." She takes the flashlight then turns it on. I start walking towards him with a light at my back. I want him to see that I'm not afraid of him. "Well, well, well, what do we have here. A coward that likes to beat women and children with his whip." An evil growl comes from within the dark shape, then a deep, hellish voice erupts, "Who do you think you are, BOY! I'm the Master here. I'll beat you to death with my whip, just like every other slave!" He throws his whip out on the floor - the tip lands at my feet. I kick the whip out of my way. "I don't think so, Horatio!" The light falls off me for a moment, and I look at Pat. She's stunned, and Rosie looks like she's going to faint if a ghost can faint. "Pat, the light!" "Oh yeah." She shines the light on me again. Pettibone sees Rosie standing at the door then growls, "What's that worthless slave doing in my house?" "Oh, you mean your daughter! She's with me, and we're here to collect her remains from the fireplace." I'm trying to sound cocky, which isn't my strong suit. Pettibone increases in size until his huge burning red eyes are right above me, glaring. "I'll break you in half, BOY, then feed you to my hogs for supper!" The light falls again, and I quickly turn just when Pat picks up the flashlight. There's Rosie behind the library door peeping out with one eye. I flash a confident smile at both of them then turn back to Pettibone, "No, you won't, because I know your secret!" Pettibone growls in that hellish voice, "What secret?" "You don't think you're dead, do you?" I proudly smile at him. Pettibone slams his gigantic fist down right beside me. "I'll never DIE!" The light leaves me again when Rosie and Pat run out the door. It finds me, both of them barely peeping in. Turning back to Pettibone, I pull my phone out of my pocket. "No, you're already dead. I want to show you a picture of your tombstone!" "Nooo!" Pettibone shrinks to his original size. "Look here, Pettibone. This one says you died on April twenty-ninth, 1865. So you've been dead for 150 years." I start to see shadows retreating in the darkness then begin to back out the door. "I hope one of your surviving slaves shot you in the head!" "Nooo! I won't look." Then Pettibone sees the shadows moving towards him. They're coming to drag him to his grave. "Well, let me tell you where your tombstone is, Pettibone! It's in the northern part of the farm, where you had all your slaves buried in unmarked graves. To hide them!" The retreating shadows begin to drag him in that direction. "I think you're about visit your grave, Pettibone. For the very first time!" The shadows screech in delight, dragging Pettibone away. "AAAaaaahhhh." His screaming voice fades in the darkness. Silence fills the library. Light fills the room again like it never did before, Pat and Rosie run to me. Pat grabs me then kisses me on the cheek, "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen in my life. How did you know what to do, Eli?" "In a lot of the ghost stories I've read, most ghosts, don't know they're dead. When you prove it to them they're drawn back to the graves they belong in." Rosie lovingly rubs my cheek then asks, "Well, I know I'm dead, Eli. Why am I still here?" "That's easy. It's because you don't have a grave yet." Looking down at the floor, with a quiver in my voice, "Right now, I'm not sure I want to dig you one." I look back at her with tears in my eyes then say, "I love you, Rosie." Rosie smiles gently puts her arms around my neck then kisses me. Right on the mouth. My first kiss from a beautiful girl and she's a ghost. I see Pat blush a little then smile. The sun is starting to rise slowly. Pat and I are tamping down the last of the dirt down in Rosie's grave. Rosie hasn't been with us since we were in the library. I think she'd gone as far as she could. I'm missing her already, and I see it in Pat's eyes, too. We both kneel before Rosie's grave. Pat prays, "Dear God, please help our wonderful friend, find her mother. Amen." Standing up first, I take Pat's hand to help her up. She stands then puts both her arms around my neck. We touch foreheads, and she smiles, "You know, Eli. You're pretty cool for a boy!" "You're pretty cool yourself, Pat, for a girl!" We start to walk home, arm in arm. A light flashes behind us, both of us quickly turn. Standing there, smiling and hugging Rosie, is Lucinda Johnson. Rosie blows us both a kiss. The light flashes again.
 Recognized |
Sorry about the word count, but I had no idea that this story would turn into an epic. Living in Tennessee, I've researched the Civil War for many years and it was good to use some of that knowledge in this story.
Truly, I believe what's in the Bible and don't believe in ghosts. But they're so much fun to write about. Especially this time of year.
Many thanks for reading. Have a great day and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Truly, I believe what's in the Bible and don't believe in ghosts. But they're so much fun to write about. Especially this time of year.
Many thanks for reading. Have a great day and God bless.
mike
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