Stories From the Ghost
A Ghost and Mrs Muir Story
By TunnelsOfTheSouth
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"The people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this, you keep them alive…"
Rob Montgomery
Once again, Carolyn sat at her desk, trying to force the jumbled words in her mind into some kind of suitable order so she could commit them to paper. She had been sitting there all afternoon, but it was becoming a wasted effort.
"Oh, please! Give me a break!" She shook her head at what she'd just typed on her portable typewriter. It didn't make any sense that she could see. She knew it wasn't even close to what she'd been trying to say.
The spectre of her latest deadline weighed heavily on her mind, shredding the remains of her already frayed temper. She knew she was in more trouble than she'd ever been.
She glanced over her shoulder. Beyond the windows, the cold winter's day was ending all too soon as a weak sun sank behind the house. Another storm was brewing, rumbling towards the land from the restless ocean. Flashes of lightning, flickering across the horizon, made her jump. The bedroom was becoming gloomy.
Carolyn sighed as she propped her chin into her upraised palm. As always, in these fraught situations, she could hear the overly loud ticking of the clock on the night table beside her bed, and every second sounded like advancing doom. It was her own fault, for not keeping on top of her deadlines.
"If only I hadn't played hooky yesterday…" She shook her head. "But it had finally stopped raining and I needed a break."
It was becoming an annoying pattern. If she didn't catch the post again tomorrow, she would be forced to drive all the way into the city and hand- deliver the articles.
Well aware of her employer's dilemma, Martha had collected the children from the bus. She was keeping them downstairs doing their homework and helping her prepare the evening meal. The housekeeper had given Carolyn three extra hours of precious time.
"Make the best of it," she told herself sternly, as she tried to recollect her scattered thoughts. "No dinner for you until you write something suitable to be published."
In the same moment, Captain Gregg materialised before the desk. "Trouble, Mrs Muir?" he asked quietly, watching her with sympathy. "I heard what you said just now. We both know that an empty stomach does not allow for clear thinking. I thought we had settled that issue last time. Surely this can wait until the morrow?"
"No, I must finish the article tonight. Even if it takes all night. I have to catch the post in the morning." Carolyn shrugged. "Too much to do and so little time left. I should have finished by now. It's all my fault for going beachcombing with the children yesterday instead of working. But it had finally stopped raining and we were all so keen to get out of the house."
She glanced behind her to where the darkening sky showed the storm was moving closer. Lightning flickered again, followed by the rumble of thunder. The temperature in the room dropped further as the daylight surrendered to the advancing darkness.
"You are being too hard on yourself, my dear." Daniel leaned his hip against the edge of the desk. "Your role as a mother is most important. The children need you more than this infernal machine." He waved a dismissive hand at the typewriter.
"Well, this infernal machine, as you call it, pays the bills," Carolyn countered with a frown.
Daniel spread his hands wide. "Must everything you do always revolve around money?"
"There speaks a spirit who has no further use for such mundane things. We couldn't afford to live here without money," Carolyn replied moodily. "You remember I told you I'd spent all my savings to come to Gull Cottage. Without a steady income, we would have to pack up, move out and go back to Philadelphia and throw ourselves at the mercy of my parents or my in-laws. I know they would love that."
"That I cannot allow. In fact, I forbid it. Your place is here." Daniel straightened, folding his arms. "I am just getting used to having you around, and underfoot. Our arrangement is rather suitable to my taste."
"Then you need to do your part. Please go away and leave me alone to work." Carolyn dropped her eyes back to her typewriter. "But I would ask if you could turn on the light before you leave. It's getting dark in here."
Daniel nodded sharply. "Very well. But I would prefer to stay and help you. Even though you refused my most reasonable input last time, I stand ready to offer my help anew. I possess other stories which may be more suitable for your feminine readers."
"Thank you, Captain." Carolyn shook her head. "But our styles differ hugely. And I could not, in all conscience, submit a story that was not my own work. I trust you do remember the terrible trouble you got me into the last time you attempted to help me with my article."
"A mere bagatelle." Daniel waved an airy hand. "Words are words, Mrs Muir. All they need is structure and order."
"If only it was that easy," Carolyn replied moodily. "Please leave."
Daniel shrugged. "Very well, if you insist, I shall bow to your wishes and depart. I will be nearby if you need me."
He waved his hand toward the electric light switch beside the bedroom door and light flooded the room. In the same moment, he vanished.
"Thank you…" Carolyn nodded absently, as she returned her attention to her article.
She applied herself, trying to block out all other distractions. Nearly an hour of reasonably fruitful work ensued. Satisfied with her progress, she was just about to congratulate herself, when a sudden flash of lightning cracked across the sky and the lights flicked out, plunging the room into darkness.
"Captain…" Carolyn glared at the shadows. "How could you? I was nearly finished."
"Belay that, Madam." Daniel materialised once more before her desk, looking aggrieved. "I too have been plunged into darkness. I was about to strike four bells for the first dog watch and pour myself a welcome measure of Madeira. This confounded outage is none of my doing. If you must appoint blame then I suggest you take your complaint to Mr Edison and his infernal invention."
He waved one hand and the oil lamps arranged around the room lit up, repelling the darkness. They added a cheery glow to the chill air.
"You would do well to summon Claymore Gregg from his hiding place." He looked menacing. "Or would you prefer I do it for you?" He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I am at your service."
"You're right, of course. I'm sorry…" Carolyn passed a hand her eyes. "But I was almost finished. Now my train of thought has been broken. I shall call Claymore."
"You look chilled." Daniel raised one eyebrow. "Shall I ignite the gas fire for you?"
At the same moment, Martha called up the stairs. "Mrs Muir, are you all right? The power's gone off. Do you want me to call Claymore Gregg to come out and fix it?"
"Thank you, Martha," Carolyn replied. "I can phone him from here." She leaned forward to pick up the receiver of the telephone on her desk and began to dial.
"Very well," Martha replied. "Your dinner's ready any time you are. I'll give the children theirs while you try to convince Claymore it's worth his while to drive out here on such a foul night." She bustled back into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry, Mrs Muir," Claymore came on the line almost immediately. "But the whole town's gone out. And the storm is getting worse. I'm afraid Gull Cottage will be far down on my list for repairs."
"As bad as that? So, you cannot do anything for us, tonight?" Carolyn cast a worried look at Daniel.
"I'm afraid it's quite impossible, my dear lady," Claymore replied, with some satisfaction. "Tonight, I must wear many hats in order to restore the town's power. I'm sure I shall be up all night performing my most important civic duties."
He hesitated, then said thoughtfully, "Surely there is someone there who could fix it for you? If you asked him nicely?"
"Oh, I don't think that would be possible." Carolyn shook her head.
"I may be many things," Captain Gregg snapped, as he listened to their conversation. "But I am not a confounded repairman. You know how much I detest this new-fangled electricity. Give me oil lamps and candles any day. They are reliable."
"Well, then, it will be the morning before I can get out there," Claymore remarked with satisfaction. "May I suggest you light some candles and make the best of it until then?"
"Very well." Carolyn shrugged. "It seems we don't have a choice. Thank you, Claymore. Good night." She replaced the receiver with a sigh of dissatisfaction.
"Do not thank that penny-pinching numbskull!" the captain declared roundly. "I will assert here and now that your next account for the infernal electricity will not have diminished by one red cent! That man is both a scoundrel and a bounder!"
"I can see his point," Carolyn tried to be reasonable. "He has a whole town to look after. As he said, we shall just have to make the best of it." She shivered as the temperature in the room dropped further. "And I have an article to finish." She returned to the typewriter with grim determination.
"By the powers, Madam! You seem intent on being contradictory tonight. If you are cold, I suggest you attend your wardrobe and dress more warmly. Or may I propose that you retire to the parlour and I will build up the fire for you. With some candles set about, you may continue with your infernal noise in some comfort," Daniel offered, frowning at the typewriter with intense dislike.
"Very well. Thank you."
The idea of a bright, warm fire was so tempting, Carolyn didn't argue. She gathered her things and picked up the typewriter, following Daniel's lead toward the staircase and down to the foyer.
"What did Claymore say, Mrs Muir?" Martha appeared from the kitchen, holding up a small branch of lit candles. "Will we have to sell the children to afford to pay his bill?"
"He's not coming out. Well, not tonight." Carolyn shook her head. "Seems the whole town has gone out. We're on our own until tomorrow."
"Well, then, I guess it's dinner for you and then milk and cookies all round. The kitchen's warm enough with the oven going. I'll light some more candles." She turned away.
"I rather fancied building up the fire in the parlour," Carolyn suggested, trying not to glance at Daniel who was standing beside her, looking very pleased with himself.
"Well, if that's what you want." Martha shrugged. "I think there's enough wood to make us a decent fire."
Carolyn hefted her typewriter. "And I still have this article to finish. I'll take a plate in the alcove." She headed towards the closed doors of the parlour.
The children appeared from the kitchen, Scruffy dancing at their feet. They both held a single candle and their eyes were sparkling with anticipation as they followed her into the parlour.
"Can we have a camp-out in front of the fire, Mum, can we?" Candy asked. "Please…"
"We can toast marshmallows," Jonathan offered. "We'll run up and get changed for bed and be back in a flash!"
"I will admit it's cold upstairs…" Carolyn nodded, as she set her typewriter down on the alcove table. "If you're quick and come right back down to help Martha get everything set up."
"We'll be quicker than lightning." The pair bolted for the stairs, followed by their dog.
"That's funny…" Martha frowned as she looked around the room. "Someone's already got the fire going." She shook her head in puzzlement. "And all the candles have been lit."
"I can't think how that happened…" Carolyn tried to look innocent, as the captain appeared in the doorway behind the housekeeper. "Maybe there was a smouldering log that was blown back into life by the wind down the chimney."
"But I cleaned the grate out only this morning and reset it," Martha replied. "Sometimes, Mrs Muir, I could swear there's more going on in this house than any of us know."
She shook her head as she walked back toward the kitchen. "I'll put the kettle on and make us a pot of tea. Then I'll get the children's beds warmed up for them to jump right into the moment they've had their milk and cookies."
"You shouldn't have done that," Carolyn hissed at Daniel. "She's already suspicious about the odd things that go on around this house that I can't explain."
"I was thinking only of your comfort, Madam," Daniel dismissed her caution, as he advanced to the fireplace to warm his outstretched hands. "I will graciously accept your thanks for such a good blaze."
"I…thank you." Carolyn seated herself behind her typewriter before rolling in a fresh sheet of paper. "Now I need to get back to work. I only have a few more pages to go."
"You are most welcome." Daniel smiled, turning his back to the fire. "This is much more the ticket," he approved. "A warm fire, candlelight and –"
"Thou beside me singing in the wilderness," Carolyn teased lightly.
"I do believe Omar Khayyam had the right of it, Mrs Muir," Daniel replied thoughtfully. "There are few things a man could want for, with a good woman at his side."
They exchanged a long look. Carolyn's breath caught high in her throat at the look of longing in Daniel's eyes.
"Sorry, that just slipped out." Her face warmed before she dropped her gaze to her work and the room fell silent except for the quick tapping of keys. "I need to get back to my work."
"And I shall make sure Claymore is out here bright and early tomorrow," Daniel declared before he retired to the window embrace to look out at the storm raging outside.
He stood with his hands clasped in the small of his back from long habit. Wind and rain threw themselves against the thick panes, seeking a way into the cosy warmth of the cottage.
The children returned with Scruffy, followed closely by Martha. The housekeeper brought Carolyn her meal on a plate, before all three set about making a campsite in front of the fire.
Candy and Jonathan settled on the rug with their marshmallows, milk and cookies. Martha retired to the couch with a book and a cup of lemon tea. Scruffy curled up to the side of the fire and sighed. A sense of cosy peace settled over the room, underscored by the staccato sound of the typewriter.
Carolyn continued to write her article around snatched mouthfuls of food. Daniel watched her, enjoying her unconscious appeal as she clasped her pencil between her teeth in deep concentration as she read what she'd just written.
"What a glorious picture you make, in the firelight… I swear you were born for it…" He sighed his regret. "Here with a loaf of bread, beneath the bough,a flask of wine, a book of verse - and thoubeside me singing in the wilderness -And wilderness is paradise enow…" he quoted the love poem beneath his breath.
"Tell us a story…" Jonathan asked around a mouthful of marshmallow, looking toward Daniel. "Please…"
"I'm afraid I don't know any stories." Martha put aside her book, assuming the boy was talking to her. "The only adventures I've had have been with complicated recipes."
"Tell us a story about some of the neat places you've been," Jonathan continued to stare at Daniel.
"I'm afraid that would be a very short list," Martha admitted, shaking her head. "Maybe your mother could tell us a story when she's finished her article."
At the same moment, Carolyn declared, "All done! Thank heavens for that!"
She pulled the last page of her article from the typewriter and added it to the neat stack on the desk with a deep sigh of satisfaction. "Thank you all for helping me get it done." Her gaze lifted to Daniel and she smiled with relief.
"Then please tell us a story, Mum," Candy pipped up, as she finished her milk and cookies. "Back in Philadelphia, you always used to tell us a story before bedtime. Sometimes, if we were really good, we got two."
"Your father was much better at storytelling than me." Carolyn got up from the alcove table and went to sit on the couch beside Martha. She helped herself to a cup of tea, sipping its warmth with appreciation. "I'm afraid I'm all out of stories."
"That's not true," Jonathan protested. "You write them all the time."
His gaze strayed again to where Daniel was standing behind the couch watching them. "I want one now, please."
"I'll bet he had a few choice tales to tell." Martha waved her hand towards the captain's portrait, where it hung above the mantlepiece. "Tales of the Spanish Main, pirates and daring-do. I bet he knows where the treasure's buried."
"Stories from the ghost…" Carolyn mused. "How fitting that would be…"
"What was that, Mrs Muir?" Martha queried. "What ghost?"
"Nothing…" Carolyn turned her query aside with a shake of her head. "I was just musing. I must be more tired than I thought."
She put a hand to her forehead as she settled deeper into the couch. "I will admit there is something about firelight that's very appealing…" She closed her eyes. "I could get used to living like this…"
"Captain…?" Jonathan whispered imploringly.
"He's talking to no-one again," Candy complained. "Mum, make him stop. He's giving me the creeps. You know I don't like ghost stories."
"Children…" Carolyn said, warningly. "It will be your bedtime soon. I don't want you staying awake all night because you were scared by some outrageous tale."
"Not until we've had our story," Jonathan asserted stubbornly. "Just one good one. Please, Mom…"
"Yes, Mrs Muir, I command you to tell us a story…" The Captain moved to hitch his hip onto the back of the couch, as near to Carolyn's resting head as he could get. "And make it a good one. 'Tis the night for it…"
"I can see I am not going to get out of this easily." Carolyn shook her head.
"Just one story and then it will be bedtime for you all..." Daniel put his finger to his lips, silencing Jonathan's eagerness with one stern look. "But it will be your mother's story. She must tell it."
Carolyn stirred. "Very well, just one story…" she said, sitting up to gaze into the flickering firelight.
Then she turned in her seat, to include the Captain in her storytelling. She smiled briefly at him as she began her story.
"This is a tale about a man. A rich and powerful man, who searched the world over for his one true love. He spent years searching, but without success."
"Oh, I love a good romance," Martha approved. "Go on."
"Is this going to get all sloppy and lovey-dovey?" Jonathan demanded to know, rolling his eyes and groaning.
"Sshhh," Candy admonished him, digging her brother in the ribs with her elbow. "You asked for a story, now let Mom tell it how she wants." She looked back to her mother. "Keep going, Mom. This is good."
"As I was saying, this man searched the world over, looking for that one woman he knew must be out there, waiting for him. He wanted to make her his queen. If only he could find her in time. His search took many years, and still, he couldn't find her. He began to lose all hope…"
She glanced at Daniel and saw he was listening intently. "You see, he wanted a woman who could match him in spirit. Someone to understand and care for him as he would for her. Once, he thought he'd found her. Only once. But she turned out not to be for him, but for another. He was heartbroken."
"Oh, that's so unfair." Candy sniffed.
Carolyn shook her head sadly. "Yes, very unfair. In the end, he retreated to the place where he'd been born and built a castle. A beautiful castle on a hill, with wonderful views of the ocean he loved so much. Then he sat down to wait for her to come to him. He reasoned he'd searched long enough and not found the right one, so perhaps she was looking for him. It was a forlorn wish, but it kept his spirits up and his hopes alive. For a time…"
"What happened to him?" Candy piped up. "Did she come and find him, like he hoped?"
"No, Candy, sadly she did not. No-one came, and this rich and powerful man found himself all alone. He was forced to make himself content with his lot. He was very proud, you see, and he did not wish to show his sad face to others. So, he locked himself away and the years passed. He went on living in his beautiful castle, until the day he died."
"Oh, that's not right," Jonathan declared. "Why didn't anyone show up? Why didn't anyone care?"
"Because he'd made the world so scared of him, no-one dared to come near. No-one from the town ever visited the castle on the hill. The rich and powerful man died alone, un-mourned. The years slipped by and his castle fell into disrepair. And still, no-one came. He was as alone as he'd ever been."
"And I thought we were going to get a happy ending," Martha sniffed. "I like romances that have happy endings."
"Maybe there is yet to be an ending…" Carolyn looked up at Daniel. "Perhaps he still waits, hoping his love will come and find him. Or maybe she already has…"
"But you said he died in his castle," Candy pointed out reasonably. "She would've been too late to save him."
"I did say that, didn't I?" Her mother nodded. "But I also know that love can transcend space and time. Perhaps he still waits in his castle on the hill, waiting for his one true love to come and find him. To make him live once more…" She looked around her enthralled audience, before saying quietly, "The end…"
"Well, I guess you could say that was more of a ghost story. But I liked it." Martha pulled out her hankie from her apron pocket and blew her nose briskly. "Very well, children, you've had your story. It's late and time for bed."
"Aw, do we have to?" Candy complained as she got to her feet.
"Yes, you do." Martha stood up and gathered the tea tray. "I've been up and warmed your beds and set out your candles. All you have to do is brush your teeth and get between the sheets. I'll be up soon to tuck you in."
"Goodnight, Mom." Jonathan got up to kiss his mother's cheek. "That was a lovely story."
"I'm glad you liked it." Carolyn gave him a hug, before also embracing Candy. "Good night, children. Sleep well."
Martha left the room behind the children and Scruffy. Carolyn turned her attention back to the fire.
Daniel watched her expression in the firelight. "How truly sad it is, Mrs Muir, that you were not born in my time. Nor I, in yours…" he whispered.
"Yes…" Carolyn nodded, blinking away the tears gathering in her eyes. "Our time together must always be measured in minutes...in snatched moments."
Daniel sighed. "Then we must discover how to measure our time in some other way..."
"Yes…" Carolyn breathed softly. "William Blake once wrote about holding infinity in the palms of our hands and eternity in an hour. If we want to, we can choose to make time irrelevant. Make it work for us."
"To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower…" Daniel mused on the Blake poem. "Hold infinity in the palm of our hand, and eternity in an hour…"
He moved around the end of the couch to sit beside her, a fraction away from where she rested. But the gap between them remained, vaster than the limitless ocean. "You told your story beautifully tonight."
"We both know it was really your story." Carolyn turned to look at him. "I am so sorry Vanessa let you down. You could have been so happy together."
"Vanessa is firmly in my past, my dear. And she will remain there. Besides, she could never compare to you; of that I'm certain. I am content."
"Thank you, Captain." Carolyn smiled wistfully. "So am I. For now…"
"You are most welcome, Mrs Muir." Daniel bowed his head to her before they both went back to gazing into the flickering firelight, each lost in their own thoughts.
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"When your soul and mine have left our bodies and we are
buried alongside each other, a potter may one day mould
the dust of both of us into the same clay…"
Omar Khayyám
