Chapter 34 The Bell Witch
Ingleside, Prince Edward Island
Anne sat in the back garden of Ingleside with Leslie Ford's children and several of her own.
Part of the Ford family – that is, the Owen Ford family not including Owen Ford himself – had returned to the House of Dreams for a summer visit. Owen intended to join his wife and kids on the island later, but he had to stay in Toronto for now. Something to do with the cave travel book that he was writing, Anne thought.
For the present, however, Leslie had requested a private meeting with Gilbert. So, at this moment, Gilbert and Leslie held their meeting in his office inside Ingleside.
Anne leaned back on the pillows that covered her white wicker chaise. She perused the notebook that she kept of writing advice given to her.
For instance, there was the conversation that she had with an editor in Halifax a few years before her marriage to Gilbert.
She had shown this editor a sample of a novel that she attempted to write at that time.
The editor laughed and gasped in all the right places.
The editor looked up at her, smiling. "This is delightful," the editor said.
Anne thought, "He loves this! He's going to publish it!"
The editor said, "If you were X (insert author here), I'd offer you a contract right now. But I can't publish this."
Anne said, "But – but why? You just said that it was delightful!"
The editor said, "I can't take a chance on you. If this were from X, and it fails, it's a fluke. If it's from an unknown such as yourself, and it fails, it's my fault."
Then there was the meeting with ANOTHER editor where the editor told her:
"I like your work. I really do. However, we've already published three works by female authors this year. We don't have room on our slate for another female." And THEN the editor had named the three female authors that had "fulfilled" his "obligation" to publish female authors. And the three female authors were all Yankees!
Anne had other gems written in her notebook as well. Stuff such as, "Don't pick settings that don't make any money. Stick to writing about places that people want to spent money to read about."
Under this, Anne had written, "Don't kill the cat. Don't ever kill the cat."
Anne sipped on Susan's lemonade and looked briefly at the children.
Kenneth waved a book in front of Rilla and explained something to Rilla.
Kenneth put his arm around Rilla. He leaned into her and said, "Bell Witch."
Meanwhile . . .
Leslie sat in the leather high backed chair and addressed Gilbert from his seat behind his desk.
"It's Owen – Mr. Ford," she said, "I came here to talk about Mr. Ford."
Gilbert said, "Has he given up sobriety?"
Leslie said, "Oh, no, nothing like that. I mean, he hasn't given me any reason to think that he's given up sobriety. If he drinks at all now, I don't see it. That's not what this is about. This is about how Mr. Ford has been since Floyd Collins' accident. Mr. Ford has concerned me ever since the accident."
"Aw, yes. Floyd Collins. May his soul find peace."
Gilbert himself had felt Floyd Collins' death in Kentucky most poorly. Gilbert had nearly died saving Floyd's life at Four Winds. When Floyd had a subsequent accident at Mammoth Cave, it was a gut punch to Gilbert. However, nobody had asked Gilbert about his personal feelings about Floyd's death – not even Anne had asked – and now was not the time to volunteer his feelings to Leslie.
"Dr. Blythe, I don't know if you read anything much about this in the newspapers, but the horror didn't end when Floyd died in that cave. I mean, they couldn't even reach him until several days after he died. And then, they couldn't retrieve him from the cave right away. It took Floyd's brother two months to recover the body. The family buried him on their nearby farm. Then, they sold the farm a short time later. They sold the farm to a local dentist who owns a bunch of nearby cave tourism properties. Dr. Blythe, the dentist exhumed Floyd's body, put it into a glass-topped coffin, and set it up as an exhibit in one of his caves!"
Gilbert gasped, then clapped his hand over his mouth.
Leslie continued, "Well, the poor Collins family was just horrified. After about a month of tourists paying tickets to see Floyd's body, it just disappeared. The body, I mean. Someone broke into the cave property in the middle of the night and just took it. As Owen says, if Owen's family stole the body back and buried it elsewhere in secret, nobody can prove that they did it."
Leslie said, "Owen has been in contact with the Collins family through this whole thing. Owen blames himself for what happened in Mammoth Cave. After the accident, he couldn't even write. At all. He just stared at blank paper all day and took long walks."
As Leslie unburdened herself, she forgot the rules of formality and slipped from referring to her husband as "Mr. Ford" to simply "Owen." Her Owen.
Leslie said, "Then he started writing again. He's on schedule to finish his book. But now – oh, Dr. Blythe – I'm more concerned than ever about Owen. He leaves the house about once every week or two. He stays out all night. I don't know what he does. He's either doing something super shady that could get us all hurt or killed, or else he's being unfaithful to me!"
Leslie started to cry, "You'll notice that he sent me to make the trip to Four Winds with the children by myself. All by myself. Didn't even hire me any help to assist. I had to do it all. Said that he had important business to finish up with his book. Stuff that he couldn't do on the island. Said that he'll join us later. Didn't give any good reason why."
Gilbert said, "Now, let's talk this through, Mrs. Ford. Now, pardon my asking about this again, but do you think that his drinking is becoming a problem again?"
Leslie said, "No! It's not his drinking. He's been managing his sobriety very well."
Gilbert said, "Okay, then. So, you said that he couldn't bring himself to write at all, and then he started to write again. Can you tell me the sequence of events that led to this change?"
Leslie said, "Well, when he first got back from Kentucky, he couldn't bring himself to work on the book. We got into a terrible argument, Owen and me. It was over his spending on the trip to Kentucky. Also, some dreadful book that he gave Kenneth about a witch. He stormed out of the house. Just walked out and kept on walking down the street. I watched him. Then he came back the next morning. We made up. He started to write again that very day. And then, as I said, every week or two or so, he will leave for the entire night and return in the morning."
"Hmm," Gilbert said. "Now, can you tell me this. What were things like leading up to his trip to Kentucky? Just in general. Anything special that you recall?"
Leslie said, "Everything was fine! I mean, Owen was busy planning for his Kentucky trip. He spent a lot of his time in his study writing and researching. But he always does that when he is amid a big project."
Gilbert said, "Just anything at all, Mrs. Ford."
Leslie said, "Well, here's one thing." Her face turned red as she spoke. "Right before Owen left for Kentucky, I booked us a room in the American Hotel. I booked the same room where Charles Dickens stayed when he visited Toronto."
Gilbert said, "Oh, indeed? The very room where Charles Dickens stayed, eh? I didn't realize that Toronto hotels advertise such things."
Leslie said, "Oh, it's not advertised anywhere. I belong to a book club with Mrs. Charles Stuart, the wife of the hotel's current owner."
Gilbert Blythe had a good poker face, and he used it now. He had his own suspicions about recent events. Now was not the time to share any of these thoughts with Leslie.
Gilbert said, "Mrs. Ford, I think that I need to have a little talk with Mr. Ford. Don't worry, I won't mention your, uh, concerns about his evening activities. I'll be discreet. I think, though, that a good discussion with Mr. Ford will clear things up."
Gilbert walked Leslie to the door of Ingleside.
Neither Gilbert nor Leslie saw Clarissa Wilcox looking into the windows of Ingleside. It had not occurred to Gilbert to close his blinds because he wasn't conducting any physical exams at that time. Clarissa had heard that Leslie was back at the House of Dreams for the summer. She had called at the House of Dreams first and arrived just in time to see Leslie and her kids leave the house. She followed them to Ingleside. She went on another errand, and then came back and decided to see for herself if Leslie was still at Ingleside. That's why Clarissa saw Leslie crying in Gilbert's office.
Once again, Clarissa Wilcox had gossip that she longed to tell. Oh, if only Anne Blythe knew what was really going on between Dr. Blythe and Mrs. Owen Ford.
Two weeks later . . .
"Aw, Ford, how was your trip to the island? How is Toronto?"
Owen Ford shook Dr. Gilbert Blythe's hand. "Fine and fine. Dr. Blythe, Mrs. Ford told me upon my arrival yesterday that you wished to speak with me."
Gilbert said, "Yes, I did wish to see you. Have a seat, Ford."
Owen said in the same leather chair that his wife had sat in two weeks earlier.
Gilbert said, "Now, what's this I hear about a witch who lives in a cave in Kentucky? The Bell Witch, is that right?"
Owen said, "The Bell Witch?"
Gilbert said, "Yes, I believe that's the name. The Bell Witch. At least, that's what Rilla called it when she woke up screaming about it in the middle of the night. The Bell Witch. She said that your Kenneth told her all about the Bell Witch."
Owen blanched. "Oh, Dr. Blythe! I apologize! It was a little bit of storytelling from the American south. One of the locals down there wrote it up into a little book. I brought it home for Kenneth. I thought that it would be fun for him to read about the folklore there. Oh, I'll have Kenneth apologize to your family. Never thought that he would tell the story to Rilla. It's not even a good story. Gosh, the author even wrote one of their second-rate presidents into the tale just to sell books!"
Gilbert waved his hand. "Apology accepted from you. I look forward to Kenneth's apology as well. I barely get enough sleep as it is. I don't need to have Rilla up screaming all night about a demon cave witch."
Owen said, "Is that all, Dr. Blythe?"
Gilbert said, "There's more, Ford. First, Mrs. Ford told me that you stayed behind in Toronto to finish your book?"
Owen said, "That's correct, Dr. Blythe. I've finished writing this draft. Mailed it off to my editor before I got on the train."
Gilbert said, "Good. Good. I heard from Mrs. Blythe that you and Mrs. Ford recently visited the American Hotel in Toronto, and slept in the room where Charles Dickens stayed."
Owen said, "That's correct. Gosh, I didn't realize that this would be something that my wife would share."
Gilbert said, "If you don't mind my asking, how did you know which room was the room where Charles Dickens stayed? I didn't realize that Toronto hotels advertised such things."
Owen said, "Mrs. Ford belongs to a book club with Mrs. Charles Stuart, the hotel's owner."
Gilbert said, "You do realize that the American Hotel burned down quite a while ago, and was rebuilt several blocks away from the original site?"
Owen sat up straighter. "What?"
Gilbert said, "Yes, it burned down. The business manager's son and I later played on the same football team at Redmond. He told me all about the fire and the rebuild. The owners decided that the rebuild would be twice as big as the original hotel, so they moved it down the street a bit. Completely different footprint."
Owen stood up. "Liars! They lied!"
Gilbert said, "Now, Ford, are you okay?"
Owen said, "Excuse me, but – they lied! They lied to me! Well, they lied to Leslie."
Gilbert said, "Ford, it does indeed appear to be a misunderstanding. As you just said, Mrs. Ford had heard from an acquaintance that the room where Charles Dickens stayed during his Toronto visit was still standing and available to rent. I would hope that this was just a misunderstanding among ladies. However, I want to make you aware of something. My acquaintances at Redmond told me that the hotel's owners at that time falsely claimed that various rooms at the hotel were the room where Charles Dickens stayed. They made this claim when they needed to increase room bookings. I was a bit surprised to discover that the story still circulates."
Owen sat back down. He said, "But it can't be! I wrote a good bit of my book in that room!"
Gilbert said, "It is indeed true, Ford."
Owen said, "But you don't understand, Dr. Blythe. The only way that I could finish my book is if I went there to write. Every time I had trouble writing, I spent the night in that room and wrote all night."
Gilbert said, "Ford, you need to tell your wife all of this. Tell your wife all of what you just told me."
Owen said, "Oh, of course, Dr. Blythe. I certainly intend to tell her all about this. Also, I will tell her that Mr. and Mrs. Charles Stuart are a bunch of scammers!"
Gilbert said, "Now, Ford. We don't know that Mrs. Stuart is a scammer. I maintain that this was a misunderstanding among ladies. For all we know, the former owners of the hotel told Mr. Stuart that story about Charles Dickens just to entice him to purchase the hotel!"
Owen said, "I guess."
Gilbert said, "Make certain that you are honest with Mrs. Ford that you visited the hotel to write your book. Be very clear with her that your book was the only reason that you visited the hotel. Maintain that you did not have any quests in the hotel room with you. This is very important, Ford."
Owen said, "Oh my word! Do you think that she thought that I was stepping out on her?"
Gilbert said, "There is a very strong possibility that she may have thought this, yes indeed, Ford."
Owen said, "Oh, no."
Gilbert said, "So let me get this straight, Ford. You suffered from writer's block. So, you went to a hotel room where you thought that Charles Dickens once slept to cure your writer's block?"
Owen said, "That would be correct, yes, Dr. Blythe."
Gilbert continued, "So, by merely spending time in the same room where you believed Charles Dickens once spent time, you felt yourself empowered to continue writing?"
Owen said, "Yes, Dr. Blythe. Yes, I did find myself empowered to continue writing."
Gilbert said, "Fascinating. Ford, I would love to write a paper for a medical journal about your experience."
Later that night . . .
Owen went home to the House of Dreams and told Leslie everything that he and Gilbert discussed about the American Hotel and the faux Charles Dickens room.
Leslie said, "She lied to me! That harpy lied to me!"
Owen said, "Now Leslie. We don't know that Mrs. Stuart deliberately lied to you. She may have legitimately thought that Charles Dickens stayed in that room."
"Fat chance," said Leslie. "She's the type that would pull that sort of con."
"Well, no harm done," said Owen. "I finished my book. Who knows if I would have ever finished my book had I not honestly believed that I wrote in a room where Charles Dickens slept? And now, Leslie, the editor has it. If I drop dead tomorrow, you can take comfort that my book is currently in the hands of my editor."
"Let's not talk about you dying, Owen," said Leslie.
Owen said, "Leslie, I want to propose something to you. If I happen to die before my time and leave you in financial despair, I want you to rent out the House of Dreams to writers or prospective writers. I want you to advertise the House of Dreams as the house where I wrote The Life-Book of Captain Jim."
"But, Owen, you didn't write The Life-Book of Captain Jim in the House of Dreams. The Blythes still lived in the House of Dreams when you wrote The Life-Book of Captain Jim. You wrote part of The Life-Book at my old cottage, and you wrote the other part of The Life-Book in Toronto."
"Exactly, Leslie. Exactly."
