A Charmed Guest

(2158 words, 8.5 min read)

New England was full of houses that looked like they were right out of a Gothic literature novel. Mike’s childhood home was one of them. The haunted history of the old farmhouse mirrored that of most houses in New England; they all had ghosts. Crusty New Englanders considered them a benefit, adding to the place’s fascination. And they were quick to recall tales of moving objects, weird noises, and sightings.

Tina looked at the house through sheets of rain on the windshield. A once cute, small white farmhouse with red shutters now looked like it could collapse at any moment. Time had not been gentle, but again, wasn’t that part of the charm?

“I don’t like the idea of sleeping over. The house creeps me out,” Tina said flatly, adding silently, and it smells funny.

Mike tried to put a positive spin on his response, “It’s just one night.”

She frowned and swiveled in the car seat, “Are you saying that to convince me? Or you?”  

“Maybe a little of both.” He said without turning his head.

Mike’s answer certainly didn’t do anything to put her mind at ease. She felt sleeping here seemed more like a dare than a generous invitation from his mother. But she knew there was no point in continuing the discussion. They were here, and they were going to stay the night.

The rain let up, and they darted to the side door. Perhaps Tina was just a snob. Maybe she should embrace the allure of the place. No one was to blame for the condition of the structure. But with one foot in the door, she quickly pushed that consideration away. Nope, the house was still unsettling. Once inside, Tina endured the fake greetings with her soon-to-be in-laws and migrated to the kitchen, settling into chairs around the table.

Tina’s fiancé’s mother asked, “Would you like some tea?”

That was her form of greeting Tina. But before Tina could answer, the woman got up, filled the kettle with water, and set it to boil on the stove. Apparently, I am having tea. A glass of wine would be better.

Tina didn’t have much to say during visits with the in-laws, so she took the opportunity to look around the house from her vantage point. Why do they all stay in the kitchen while there are fifteen other rooms in the house? She looked through the doorway into the TV room and noted how the tiny room looked bloated with modern furniture.

Mike’s mother sat back down at the table and announced, “You are going to sleep in the front room tonight.”

What!? She is going to put me in the ghost room, alone? Tina tried to catch Mike’s eye, but he was clearly avoiding her. Heaven forbid he sleep with his fiancée. Soon after, Tina and Mike said their ‘good nights’ and headed to bed.

Tina stopped at the foot of the stairs and stared at the incredibly steep flight before her. They were intimidating. It felt unnatural to ascent them, and she was always afraid of falling. Tina scaled the stairs by crawling up, like on a ship. She knew it looked ridiculous, but she didn’t feel safe any other way. When she got to the top, Mike was sitting on the bed waiting for her.

“I can’t believe your mom commanded, ‘You’re going to sleep in the front room tonight.’ As if we weren’t living together.” Tina said. “Really, Mike, the ghost room!”

“Her house, her rules.” He said playfully, then added. “You’ll be fine. I’m in the next room. I will see you in the morning.” He kissed her on the forehead and left, closing the door behind him.

Tina undressed, slid into the twin bed, and stared at the sloped ceiling. The white paint was dingy and defaced with crayons and markers. She wondered which grandchild had left the scribbles. Or was it the ghost?

Legend had it that each teenage male family member who lived in this bedroom would have their lives turn sour until they moved to a different part of the house. The ghost didn’t seem to bother small children or any adult female. She hoped that was true, and it was the only comforting thought Tina could come up with as she willed herself to relax and fall asleep.

#

Jenny sat in the horse-drawn carriage, looking at the white gothic farmhouse, and she decided it looked inviting enough. The front door and windows were open, letting the July breeze flow.  The white cotton curtains swished in and out of the openings as if the house were breathing.

This is my new home. The house looked big. Not a mansion, but much bigger than the place where she grew up. When had she stopped being a child? She was barely eighteen. In the eyes of her father and new husband, it was almost too late; she was on the verge of being an old maid.

Too late, those were her father’s words.

Jenny hated the idea of being forced to marry, but there wasn’t anything else a girl, a woman, could do in 1904. She was meant to be a wife and mother, but she wasn’t even sure that she wanted to be one.

“Madam Brewster, are you ready?” The coachman asked as he poked his long, thin face into the side window of the carriage.

Jenny straightened her hat and smoothed the front of her yellow dress. “Yes, Martin, thank you.”

Jenny wasn’t used to being addressed as Mrs. Brewster or having assistants like Martin and her new maid, Gigi. Martin opened the door to the coach and held out his hand to assist Jenny to step down onto the gravel driveway. Martin grabbed her suitcase and moved towards the door. At the threshold, they were greeted by a small woman in her forties with grey hair and bright amber eyes.

Martin made introductions, “Mrs. Brewster, this is Gigi.” Then he added, “Your house girl.”

Jenny flinched at the term. The woman in front was old enough to be her mother!

“Gigi, it is nice to meet you. Is Mr. Brewster in?” Jenny asked.

“Oh no, ma’am. Mr. Brewster is away on business. He travels most of the time, which why I am employed here.”

“Oh,” Jenny said disappointingly as she followed Gigi into the parlor.

“I have made some tea,” Gigi said. She poured the liquid into a teacup and handed it to Jenny.

Jenny didn’t want tea. She suddenly felt overwhelmed, and her eyes welled up with tears. Why was she here? Why did she marry a man who wasn’t going to be a husband?

#

Tina abruptly woke up and was physically shaking. She got dressed and scrambled down the stairs to share what she had just dreamt. Mike and both of his parents were sitting at the kitchen table. She took a seat and started her story.

“I had a very intense and disturbing dream about your ghost this morning,” Tina said as she looked for surprised expressions from the family.  

She continued despite the lack of alarm, “Her name is Jenny. She has long brown hair and green eyes. She is about eighteen years old, and she was married to the man who built this house. He abused her and eventually killed her. On that faithful day, they were fighting at the top of the stairs.” Tina pointed in the direction of the front staircase.

“They struggled, and he pushed her down the stairs. She couldn’t catch herself as she flew backward and eventually landed at the front door, in a crumpled heap. She died instantly.” Tina said. The details seemed to be old news, as if they had already heard them.

Mike’s mother spoke, “We figured it was something like that. You know, we have had other guests tell us similar stories when they have stayed overnight. Do you want some tea?” Without waiting for an answer, she was up and starting the kettle.

“That was only one part of the dream!” Tina said excitedly. She looked at her hands. They were still shaking. She continued, “The scene changes, and it is the present day. I woke up to the sound of loud voices outside the bedroom door.”

“I got out of bed and went to the door to listen. I didn’t open it immediately because I didn’t want to disturb a family argument if that was the case. I could make out Mike’s voice, but the female voice wasn’t you.” Tina looked at Mike’s mother.

“I opened the door and found a young woman in a white nightgown yelling at Mike. Her long chestnut hair was in a braid, and she was barefoot. She was screaming at him, ‘Get out! Get away from me! Don’t touch me!’”

“Mike stammered to say anything. He was standing with his back up against the wall just to the left of the stairwell. His arms and hands were up around his chest, using them as a shield.”

“I asked, ‘What’s going on here?!’ Neither one of them answered my question nor even acknowledged I was standing there. I repeated, ‘What’s going on!?’”

“Then, my intuition kicked in, and I just knew this stranger was going to hurt Mike! I had to defuse the situation. Mike tried to move away from the young woman, but he ended up standing in the center of the hall just above the stairwell.”

“’Mike, be careful!’ I said. They both finally looked at me, before she started swinging her arms at him, and he took a step back closer to the edge of the top step.”

“I gasped, ‘Mike!’ I took a step forward to try to grab Mike’s arm. At this point, Mike was holding on to the ends of the railing on either side of the stairs, leaning over the openness as he tried to avoid the swings.”

“’You will not hurt her!’ The young woman cried out. She moved closer to Mike and started beating on his chest. She repeated, ‘You won’t hurt her. I won’t let you!’”

“With each blow, Mike leaned further back over the opening. I knew if the young lady continued to hit him, he might lose his grip and fly down the opening, landing at the bottom of the stairs.”

“I screamed, ‘No. No. No!’ But my pleas didn’t break the young lady’s concentration. I suddenly realized that this young woman was trying to protect me from the same fate she had had. All at once, the backstory to her death and this scene was clear.”

“I grabbed the arm of the young lady and said, ‘Stop, stop, stop, Jenny. He’s a good man. He isn’t going to hurt me!’”

“I was surprised I knew her name, but I didn’t stop to wonder why. I continued to plead with Jenny, ‘Really, Mike is a good man. He wouldn’t hurt me, I promise!’ Jenny stopped, turned to me as Mike scrambled to move away from the stairwell opening.”

“’Really, Jenny, it’s okay. I know you were only trying to protect me. But I’m okay. Thank you.’ I said as I lightly touched Jenny’s arm. Jenny’s bright green eyes shimmered with the threat of tears. She smiled at me, and gave me an unvoiced thank you, then she vanished.”

Tina finished her story and sat back, waiting for a reaction. All three of them were silent, and their expressions were frightening. Tina didn’t understand why they were all looking at her with such shock. They were the ones who told her they had a ghost.

Mike’s mother broke the silence, “You are the first person to give her a name. Hell, you are the first person to interact with her! I would think of it as being a charmed guest.”

“Charmed guest? Who’s the charmed guest, me or her?” Tina questioned, annoyed.

“Well, you, of course. I’m sure Jenny felt comfortable enough with you to tell you who and what she was. You should feel honored.” Mike’s mother said.

Honored? I don’t think so. Tina crossed her arms; she wanted out of this house.

Mike touched her cheek to comfort her and said, “I think it is time to head out. Tina, are you ready?”

She gave him a weak smile, “Yes, I am ready.” More than ready. I don’t want to sleep in this house ever again.

Tina stood and willed herself not to run out of the house. They said their goodbyes and left. In the driveway, she took a deep breath. The air never seemed cleaner and purer. With each step leading away from the house, she felt the weight of her encounter lift.

She looked up at the ghost room as she got into the car and saw a glimpse of white cotton moving across the window. Was it the curtains in the breeze, or was it Jenny? She didn’t know, and she didn’t care.