Chapter 5: Ghost Story
After tossing and turning for the rest of a sleepless night, Emily finally gave up and dragged herself out of bed. She dressed quickly, and then padded downstairs to her father's study.
The door was open and he was inside, gathering his things for work. Victor looked up and smiled at her. "Somebody's up early." Then he saw the look on her face. "What's the matter, Pumpkin?"
'Who is she, Papa? She says that you know her."
Victor sighed. "Your friend from the dreams?" he guessed.
"Yes," Emily answered, surprised. "How did you know?"
He paused and looked out the window. "Your mother - she told me about her and described her to me … back when you were sick."
The girl nodded. That made sense.
"How badly do you want to know?" he asked her.
"Who was she?" she asked again.
"Go fetch your sketchbook and I'll tell you."
Emily looked at him, a questioning look on her face.
"It'll help. Bring it here."
The girl turned and left the room. Her father sighed one more time, and then he slumped forward and covered his eyes. This was going to mean the breaking of a long-kept promise...
Emily returned a couple of minutes later. She held out the book. "Here, Papa."
He took it and flipped through the pages, looking at each picture in turn until he found the one he was looking for. Victor caught his breath as he stared down at the page.
"What is it, Papa?" Emily asked.
He held the book open and pointed to a pencil sketch of a pretty dark-haired girl.
"Your friend from the dreams," Victor said. It was a statement, not a question.
Emily nodded, eyes wide.
He continued. "Yes, I know her. And you'd probably like to know how?"
"Yes, Papa. She's not just someone I imagined, is she?"
Victor shook his head.
"No. She was a very real person who lived ... and died ... a long time ago."
"And you knew her?" she asked.
Victor nodded. "In a manner of speaking … she died a couple of months before I was born. But I knew her, just the same."
Emily looked puzzled. "But how could you? If she died before you were born?"
"Do you like ghost stories?" he asked.
Emily nodded solemnly.
"Well, this one is kind of a ghost story, but it's a real one … for it actually happened."
He paused. "It happened to your mother and I."
His daughter's eyes widened and she leaned forward expectantly.
Victor took a deep breath and continued. "You see … the day before we were to be married, our families had the rehearsal in the church and I was very, very nervous. So much so, that - in fact - I couldn't get the vows right.''
She nodded again.
"So the rehearsal went badly and I decided to take a walk in the forest to practice my vows. I had to go quite a ways before I finally got them right, too. And by that time I had walked all the way out to the old cemetery in the woods. Do you know the one that I'm talking about?"
"Yes," she said, still wide-eyed.
"Well, by that time I finally had the words to the ceremony memorized, so I ran through them one last time. And at the end of it I placed the wedding ring over what I had thought was an old tree branch. Then I 'asked' it - pretending that it was your mother's hand - to be mine."
"But it wasn't just an old tree branch, was it?" Emily asked quietly.
Victor smiled and shook his head.
"No, it wasn't - it turned out to be the hand of a poor dead girl that had been murdered years before on her wedding day. It was sticking out of the grave and, foolishly, I'd confused it for a tree branch in the moonlight and placed my ring upon it."
"And then what happened?"
"Well, I heard a strange noise and, as I was looking around to see what it was, something grabbed my arm and pulled."
Emily gasped.
"Before I knew what was happening, my whole arm had been pulled into the ground. It took all of my strength to break free."
"But you did?" she asked, her eyes wider yet.
"Oh, yes," he assured her, "but I could feel something still holding onto my wrist and, as I looked to see what it was, it tightened its grip..."
"And?" Emily said impatiently.
"... And it turned out to be the hand and arm of that corpse! I had pulled right it out of the grave."
"Oh my gosh!" Emily exclaimed. "That must have been frightening."
"Not nearly as much as what happened next. I shook the horrid thing off, but - before I could get away - the ground started to shake and, right before my eyes, she came straight out of the ground in front of me! I couldn't move … I was so frightened! And, as I was gathering my wits, she lifted her veil, looked at me, and whispered, 'I do.' "
"Her veil?"
"Oh, yes - she had been murdered on her wedding day, you see? And she was still dressed in her wedding outfit."
Emily put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, no! What did you do next?"
"Well, I took to my heels and ran for my life, with her following close behind. I ran all the way back to the old stone bridge and thought that I'd finally lost her."
"But you didn't?" Emily guessed.
"No. For when I turned around on that bridge she was standing right there. I must have fainted at that point because the next thing I remember was her bending over me, and I was coming-to in the Land of the Dead."
"The 'Land of the Dead'? What do you mean? ... Is there such a place? … Where is it?"
Victor shook his head and smiled "I still don't know what to think about that - it was a very odd and marvelous place. To this day I don't wonder sometimes if it wasn't just a very strange dream."
"So, what was it like?"
"Well - it was filled with dead people, of course. Some were just skeletons, others were only a little … gone. But they were all having a great time, like some kind of cabaret."
"Papa, what's a cabaret?"
"Never mind," Victor said quickly. "Let's just say that they were having a good time, and leave it at that."
He changed the subject. "So, like I was telling you before, this was a young girl, murdered on her wedding day. And somehow the poor thing had gotten the notion that I was now married to her. You see, while she was alive, she had wanted a wedding more than anything else and when she was killed that dream died with her."
"Oh, how awful!" Emily exclaimed.
Victor nodded. "And when I came along, it must have seemed to her like a second chance. So she took it."
"And you right along with it," she added.
"Yes. But it wasn't so bad. Because while I was there, I got to know her - in the end, she turned out to be a very sweet girl, who just happened to be dead. I was down there with her for maybe a day or so, and then the two of us returned for a visit to the Land of the Living, along with some of the other dead folk, to celebrate our wedding."
"Your wedding?" she interjected. "But I thought it was you and Mama that were supposed to be getting married?"
Victor smiled again at his daughter.
"That's another long story. Remind me to tell you more about that some day."
"Oh, I will," she replied. "And what happened next?"
"Well, while we were at the church - by the strangest of coincidences - the fellow who had murdered her years before walked into the place. He had changed over the years, I guess, but she still managed to recognize him."
"And what then … did she kill him back?" Emily asked hopefully.
"No - not exactly. You see … this character was not only wicked and selfish, but he was cruel, too. And he decided it would be great fun to taunt her about what he had done to her years before."
"Oh, what a rotten man!" she exclaimed.
"Well, the last laugh was on him. You see … he picked up what he thought was a cup of wine from the altar and he drank it down as a mock toast to Emily. But it was actually poison - and he died right there on the spot."
"It served him right," she said. And then she stopped, and a confused look passed across her face.
"Emily? ... " She queried. "... Emily? ... But I'm Emily!"
"And so you are," her father replied. "But, you see - this girl's name was Emily, too."
"Like me?"
Victor paused and took a deep breath. "You were named after her, my dear."
There was an awkward silence, and then she asked another question.
"So what happened to her after that, Papa?"
Victor scratched his head. "I guess that she decided then that her business on earth was done. For at that point she turned and walked out of the church and, when she paused at the door, the strangest thing happened.
"She was... well ... surrounded by a bright blue light, and then she dissolved into a cloud of the most beautiful kind of butterflies and we never saw her again after that."
"What a sad story," Emily murmured. "You said you got to know her …What was she like?"
Victor sighed. "She was sweet and brave, and very full of life. She loved to sing and to dance in the moonlight. And she was good at playing the piano."
"Like you," Emily observed. "So you fell in love with her?"
"Of course not," he said hastily. "But I did grow fond of her - she was a special lady."
"Does Mama know about her?"
"Of course she does," Victor said. "She was there with me at the church when all of this happened."
"And so ... if the other Emily's gone ... then why does she come to me in my dreams?"
He reached out and ruffled her hair. "I wish I knew, Pumpkin. Maybe she's looking out for you."
"Like a guardian angel?"
"That could be," he shrugged. "Maybe you can ask her when you see her again."
"I'll do that. And Papa?"
"Yes?"
"You must have liked her a lot to have named me after her."
There was a long pause before Victor spoke again. "Actually, it was your mother's idea."
"It was?" That surprised her.
He continued. "I guess she felt that we owed it to her."
"'Why?"
Victor smiled at his daughter. "You're just full of questions - and I guess I would be too if I were in your place. But - that's another story for a later time."
Emily looked again at the portrait. "She certainly is beautiful, isn't she?"
"She was," he agreed.
Then he changed the subject again. "Your friend Captain Barrett came by for a visit last night."
"He did? What did he want?" she asked.
"You gave him one of your pictures yesterday," Victor replied.
"I did," Emily said carefully. "But he asked me for it. In fact, he offered to buy it from me, but I gave it to him."
"It's all right," her father said. "You did nothing wrong and – yes - he did ask you for it."
"It was another picture of her," she recalled.
"That's right," Victor said.
"Did the Captain know her, too?" she asked.
He paused and looked out the window again - for a longer time.
"He certainly did … You see - she was his daughter," he said gently.
Emily gasped. "What! His daughter? But he never told me that he had a daughter!"
"He did," said Victor," but she died a long time ago."
She couldn't believe it. "But how could Captain Barrett's daughter be my friend from the dreams? And be the dead girl you named me after?"
He shrugged and pulled the sketch from the book. "I can hardly believe it myself, but it's true … she is. I could never forget that face. And, of course, neither could he..."
Emily thought of something and a worried look passed across her face. "Oh. I hope I didn't make him feel bad. He acted funny when he first saw it."
Victor smiled and patted her head. "No," he answered. "If anything, he was very happy to get the picture. You see, it's the only one of her that he has."
He pulled out his watch. "Oh, my! I've got to go ..."
"Awwww." She hadn't heard nearly enough yet and she wanted to hear more.
But Victor had talked long enough, and he stood his ground. "No - that's it. Off you go."
"Okay," Emily said, her voice heavy with disappointment. Reluctantly, she picked up her sketchbook and slowly left the room.
Victor had just finished gathering his things for work when the knock on the door came. "Who could that be?" he muttered. He took a quick look out of the window, and then went to the door. When he opened it the Solicitor was standing there.
"Good morning, Mr. Van Dort. It pains me to trouble you about this, but there is a problem with your loan..."
The Solicitor did not stay long; he quickly conducted his business with Victor, and then left. Victor could only stare at the piece of paper he had left behind.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long night and now it was going to be a very long day. Wearily, he closed his eyes and rubbed them again. He heard footsteps ... that would be Victoria.
He opened his eyes as she entered the room.
"That was quite the chat you were having with Emily. What in the world were you talking about? She gave me the strangest look just now."
"The past," he said wearily.
"The what?" she asked. Then she had a horrible sinking thought...
"Victor - you didn't tell our daughter about her, did you?"
The look on his face was all the answer she needed.
"Oh, Victor, how could you!" she screeched. "You made a promise! We weren't to tell her any of that. Don't you remember?"
"Yes, I do," Victor replied. "But it was time that she knew."
"You could have asked me about it."
"I could have," he agreed. He stood up and stepped toward her. "But I knew that you would have said no."
"Of course," she retorted. "We've had quite enough of that woman in our lives!"
"You're jealous of her," he said.
She glared angrily at him.
"Jealous," he persisted. "Of a ghost!"
A wave of rage swept over Victoria and, without thinking, she slapped her husband ... hard across his face.
Both of them were stunned. But Victor spoke first. "You'll not do that again," he said coldly. She had never heard him use that tone of voice before, and it frightened her.
"Oh, Victor, I'm sorry!"
He shook his head and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"Out," he snapped. Then he turned on his heel and left.
Victoria sobbed as he slammed the door behind him.
"Victor! I didn't mean it! Come back! Come back!"
