The Ghost and Mrs. Muir
The Hole in the Board
By Julie Feldman
The Ghost and Mrs. Muir and its canon characters belong to R.A. Dick and 20th Century Fox. I make no money from this story.
Running, running…why? She was afraid, by why afraid of him? Hadn't her heart taken him to itself long ago? Hadn't it always been a case of not if, but how between them? But now, standing before her was Daniel Gregg, sweat pouring off his shirtless chest, fists clenched in rage, roaring like a bull stabbed by the matador. The familiar sea-blue eyes were replaced with orbs of red, flashing in rage and his arms, now bulging with inhumanly enlarged biceps were reaching out to grab her, to crush her…
"Daniel, Daniel! No! Stop! Why are you hurting me? Please stop, please talk to me! No, no! Don't do this…you're going to kill me! Why? Why, when I love you?"
She woke up panting, her forehead painted with her own sweat. It was the third time this week that she'd had this nightmare, and the second night in a row. She hadn't mentioned it to Gull Cottage's resident ghost before this, but if her nights were going to continue to be disturbed like this, he would know soon enough anyway. Perhaps he would know why this was happening. If not, just knowing that he would gallantly volunteer to watch over her sleeping form and keep her safe was enough to calm her. Afterall, wasn't Captain Gregg a specter, who took the care of his "family" exceedingly seriously?
Not that Carolyn Muir liked needing to depend on anyone, man, or ghost. She had succeeded in firmly establishing her two children, her housekeeper and herself here in Schooner Bay, far from the well-intended but intrusive "help" of her family after the death of her husband. But this, this was something else. Why had her mind become so fearful of someone that she cared so much for? Captain Gregg had never given her any reason to doubt his intentions toward her or anyone else in the household. Even his "great-nephew" and her landlord Claymore Gregg, had never been truly in mortal danger from the seafarer's temper.
Perhaps a visit to the psychiatrist in Philadelphia – Dr. Ryan McNally was his name – was in order. But hadn't it taken a night and morning's worth of work on the Captain's part to convince Dr. McNally that it was all a figment of Carolyn's overactive imagination? She didn't think that she wanted to open that can of worms again.
Still, she had to find a way to get rid of these night terrors!
Daniel Gregg was invisibly watching her. It was hours too early for her to be up, but she was clearly too agitated to fall back asleep. He remembered somewhat distantly the feeling of having a nightmare, the sense of dislocation and disorientation. But this was no run of the mill event. This was hardly a psychological mechanism to manage the day's activities, worries and anxieties. What it was, however, he did not know. But he vowed to find out.
He materialized sitting in front of Mrs. Muir, perched on the edge of the bed and he desperately wished that he were able to hold her small, soft hands in his larger, rougher ones.
"Dear lady, what is bothering your sleep so greatly? I've watched you having these terrible nightmares and it is utterly unlike your normal state."
Carolyn swallowed hard. This was the Daniel Gregg she knew and loved; kind, caring, even sweet. Just don't accuse him of that. He would be the first to deny that he was "sweet", but the Captain took the care and protection of the members of his family quite personally. And the ghost before her was clearly concerned by her nightmares.
"I wish I knew what my mind was trying to tell me. Each nightmare is somewhat different, but in each one," she swallowed again, not really willing to reveal Captain Gregg's role in her night terrors, "In each one, you are a threat to my life. It's like you become an evil, devil-spawned creature, reaching out to crush me or throw me into a fire-pit or to cut off my head with an axe while the children are screaming."
"NO! NEVER!" Daniel Gregg had never been so shocked in his life or after-life. He wished, as he never had before, that he could hold Carolyn's hands, gather her in his arms and promise her protection and shelter. But try as he might, he could do no more than speak and hope his words might bring some small bit of comfort. "My dear lady, I hope you know that I would never do any harm to you or anyone in his house. You are all precious to me. You, most especially."
"I know," she replied, a tear making its way down her cheek. "I have no idea why you appear as a demon in these nightmares, or even why I'm having them. Everything during the days is going along well at the moment. For once, I'm not behind on the bills and I have several articles lined up. The children are well, happy, and bringing home good marks from school and Martha is her usual self. I can't imagine why I would be having nightmares at all."
Captain Gregg had stood up and paced around the room while Carolyn spoke. "You say I appear as a demon-like creature?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm. I do not sense any such creature about. I would notice something like that, after all. As a super-spirit, naturally I am the master of my spectral domain."
"I would think so," Mrs. Muir replied. "But then again, perhaps we've all grown so happy and complacent…"
The Captain had to admit to himself that indeed they had all settled into a warm and comfortable routine. Could he have become so complacent, so domesticated that he wouldn't be aware of some other disembodied creature invading his realm?
The early November weather had welcomed the beginning of winter cold, and this Friday afternoon Candy and Jonathan swept in from their school week along with a northeast wind and light snow. It would leave only an inch or so on the ground, but the weather was brisk enough to leave cheeks bright red and winter coats frosted with a bit of sparkling glaze. While Martha whisked the children into the kitchen for welcome mugs of hot chocolate, Carolyn came down to sit with them and hear the news of the school day.
"And Mrs. Tompkins assigned us into groups to write short stories about the original thirteen colonies," Candy announced. "I got into the group doing New Jersey, with Jaimie Green. He's so groovy! He has all the latest records, and he has dreamy eyes, too!" Jonathan rolled his eyes at his sister and made a grunting noise. Carolyn couldn't help but silently agree with him. In the past year her daughter had developed crushes on several boys. Thankfully they weren't as fraught with discomfort as her first one with Mark, the young English boy, but they still created a bit of a disturbance for a few days in the house.
She quickly changed the subject by asking Jonatan about his homework for the weekend.
"I have some arithmetic homework and I have to memorize a poem. Something about some man named 'Smithy' I think."
"Ah, I think you mean Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's 'The Village Blacksmith'." Captain Gregg materialized in the kitchen, hands gripping his jacket lapels as he began to declaim.
"Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands,
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands."
"Wow!" shouted the boy, "that's the one. Can you help me learn it, Captain?"
"Of course. It's a wonderful poem. I much enjoy Longfellow's writing. Now, how about I light the fire in the parlor so that you two can play comfortably while dinner is cooking?"
"Thank you, Captain Gregg!" they both chorused, wishing they could hug the ghost they thought of as their almost-father. Candy turned to her brother. "You get the board, and I'll wash the mugs out."
"Okay," he replied, as he jumped up and ran up the stairs making as much noise as one would expect from a seven-year-old boy.
Daniel inhaled the warm scent of the remains of the hot chocolate mingling with the smell of the evening's beef stew. Carolyn and Martha were bustling about in the kitchen, and for the moment at least, all was right with his world. As Candy finished drying the mugs, her mother ruffled her mop-top indulgently. "Go ahead and play with your brother while dinner is cooking." This was the Captain's signal to prepare the fireplace but he returned to the kitchen mere moments later.
"The New England Woman's Magazine has asked me to do an article on the use of local apples a century ago; not just making pies and other baked goods but making apple cider and how to store apples until the next harvest, things like that," Carolyn said to the kitchen at large as she sat down at the kitchen table with yet another cup of coffee in her hand.
"Apples were a very important part of a family's stores," Captain Gregg stated, sitting next to Mrs. Muir. Cider, both hard and soft provided needed calories. And choosing and storing apples to keep until the end of the summer was quite a science."
Martha added, "I remember my grandmother and great-aunts making apple cider vinegar and they used it for all sorts of things. Did you know that it is very good for cleaning oily hair?" Carolyn wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure I could stand the smell, although I suppose rinsing with some flower-water would take care of that." Martha made a "tsk-tsk" noise. "We've gotten too used to perfume in everything if you ask me. I can't think of a more wonderful and inviting smell than fresh apple sauce with cinnamon."
"Quite right you are, Martha," said the Captain as he rose from the table." Without a further word he disappeared from the kitchen to materialize in the parlor which had warmed up nicely. The two young children were on the floor in front of the fireplace. The firelight cast dancing shadows on their faces as they opened the box of the game that Jonathan had brought downstairs from their bedroom. As soon as the top was off, Scruffy, the family's terrier stood up and barked twice, then backed away growling at the game.
"Scruffy, what's the matter?" asked Candy. The spirit in front of them wondered the same thing as he looked between the dog and the cardboard box. He took a step forward as the girl lifted out the playing board and Jonathan reached in for the planchette.
"NO!" roared Daniel. Quickly he grabbed the Ouija board and planchette and threw them into the fireplace. For good measure, he threw its box to the flames as well, which flared with its additional fuel.
"Captain, what did you do that for?" cried Candy.
"Do you not know child, that a Ouija board can create a passageway between this world and others? And many of those worlds contain dark and evil things."
"Look!" screamed Jonathan. The planchette rose from the flames, seemingly of its own accord, the flames magnified and dancing through the clear plastic piece that held the little needle of the pointer. The women ran in from the kitchen just in time to see the plastic lens melt away and a tongue of fire extend through it as if to lick at the children. The specter of Daniel Gregg stepped in front of them, his ectoplasm absorbing the heat and danger of the fire.
"Begone, you foul poltergeist! This is my haunt, and these living beings are under my protection."
Nothing but an eerie laugh/groan was heard. The flames in the fireplace rose even higher and the heat in the room was climbing to hot levels. The humans back away from the fire as Mrs. Muir whispered, "Captain?..."
He faced the fireplace, putting his spirit between the entity and the humans. "This devil-spawn is very, very strong and likely the source of your nightmares. It is looking to …" Captain Gregg couldn't voice the terrible knowledge that the entity was looking to obtain entry into their world, by any means possible to introduce mayhem and evil. "Madam, get yourselves out of the house. Take the dog too. Don't come back until the fireplace is cold. Even if you see the slightest spark, do not stay. I cannot battle this demon and protect you and your family at the same time."
"But Captain! You can do anything!" declared Jonathan. The flames changed color to an icy blue as the temperature of the room plummeted and icicles began to form on the furniture, drapes, mantelpiece and even Captain Gregg's portrait.
Daniel did not turn to face the boy but spoke to him quietly as he faced the demon-ruled fireplace. "Thank you for your belief in me, but this is a very strong presence and victory is not yet guaranteed. Now go, all of you. Try not to reach out to me. I need all my concentration for this."
Carolyn pulled the children out of the parlor while Martha picked up Scruffy. They retreated to the car and headed down the road to a spot where they could safely observe the house. "Mom," said Candy, "the Captain always is able to protect us. He'll do it again, right?"
"Yes, of course dear," her mother replied in a distracted way. She remembered her nightmares. It had been the poltergeist inhabiting her mind, looking for a way to undermine Daniel's relationship with her family. A strange feeling began to rise inside of her; a feeling that she absolutely had to return to the house.
In the parlor the flames in the fireplace had again shifted color. They were now black and seemed to consume the whole room. The temperature had risen to a point no living human could have survived and roared and shrieked so loudly that no human ear could have stood it. Captain Gregg stood in the middle of the inferno, hands on his hips and looking as nonchalant as possible. He didn't want to give his opponent the least little advantage. He certainly wouldn't reward it with any indication that he was at all concerned about the outcome of the battle to come, despite what he had declared to the Muir's moments before. "Come and face me, you evil spirit. Your parlor tricks do not impress me."
The poltergeist's voice was like the sound of a violin bow wielded by the most rank novice on an untuned instrument; it was strident and discordant. It was at once raspy and shrieking. It was the voice that Hell would make if it were an organic being. "It is you who plays at parlor tricks, Specter. And it is you I wish to defeat. The elimination of your presence will allow me a portal to this world here in this place where land meets sea and sky meets mountain. And the lovely Carolyn Muir's presence here is a delightful added bonus. Her night terrors have been most amusing…and seductive…"
If anything was the absolute worst thing to say to Daniel, that was it. It both pierced his heart with a fear he had never experienced before, and it fueled his strength more than anything else possible.
Carolyn had left the car in a trance-like state despite the protests of Martha and the children. Even Scruffy objected mightily, but she only stated, "I can't explain, but there is something I must do." She approached Gull Cottage feeling the demon's presence grow with each yard she walked. It was not her intention to endanger her life or to possibly leave Candy and Jonathan orphans. But somehow, she knew that if she let the poltergeist inhabit her, her human state would weaken it. It was the biggest gamble of her life and she only hoped that Daniel would understand what she was doing and not execute the coup de gras.
"YOU WILL NOT HAVE CAROLYN!" the ghost bellowed, only to be laughed at in that intolerable voice. "I WOULD KILL HER WITH MY OWN HANDS TO PREVENT HER BECOMING YOUR PLAYTHING".
Laughing still, the poltergeist replied, "Well, my friend, you will have that opportunity shortly." The flames disappeared from the room, although the air hung heavy with the scent of sulfur and burnt wood. The front door was flung open to Carolyn as she advanced steadily on the two non-human presences. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she bore a look of determination that Daniel had never seen before. She couldn't see her tormentor, but she knew it was there and it was this evil that she addressed:
"Take me and leave this place, my family and the specter of Daniel Gregg." Daniel went to reach out for her, but she instinctively took a step away from him. The poltergeist took on the appearance of a sooty, swirling cloud that advanced on her and hid her from view for the longest seconds the Captain of Gull Cottage ever knew. When it slowly began to recede, Carolyn was bent over and grunting like a woman delivering a child, pushing the cloud out of herself with all her might. "Now, Daniel!" she grunted.
His blue eyes blazed with a cold fire as he sprung into the poltergeist's cloud. Where it had been a sooty gray before, it was becoming less and less gray and more and more transparent. Daniel's "body" seemed to grow larger, stronger and more menacing. The cloud became wispy with a small string of something ectoplasm-like still linking it with Carolyn and then seemed to withdraw what was left of it into her. The ghost of Captain Gregg, turned on her, hunting for the last of his enemy in the human woman. She was still grunting with effort to rid herself of the remains of the poltergeist when she looked up at the specter. His chest had continued to expand as had his arms, shredding his jacket and sweater. He stood before her glazed in sweat, in the fog of battle. His arms lifted toward her neck, his hands reaching out to choke the life out of her. "Daniel, Daniel! No! Stop! Why are you trying to hurt me? Please stop, please talk to me! No, no! Don't do this…you're going to kill me!"
Something happened. Later Carolyn would say she heard a "pop" but the Captain swore that he heard not a sound. But they both knew that the poltergeist had been defeated and was no longer in existence. Daniel returned to his normal dimensions and clothing, looking somewhat embarrassed by his previous state of undress.
If ever there was a time when they both wished that they could embrace, this was certainly it. They had come through an ordeal of epic proportions, one that certainly no one other than the rest of the family could comprehend. He had saved her life and she had saved him from unbearable sorrow and guilt. How could you possibly put something like that into words? And yet there was no other medium available to them.
"Carolyn…" he said.
"Daniel…" she said at the same moment.
A sad smile passed between them, because that was all there could be.