Haunted Spring

"You go first."

I wasn't sure how to begin, so I just started talking. "The other day, I was at the historical society trying to find out some information about the Leesville Militia from the Civil War. I was checking out this guy name Everett Caldicott. The lady there said you'd been looking at the same book as I had."

"Yeah," Rikki said, "so?"

"So were you looking up Everett Caldicott too?"

She appeared to think for a moment. "So what if I was?"

"So this," I said, and told her about finding the letter in the oak tree. I told her what the letter said, and the two names on the letter: Lucy and Everett.

"I think they were in love. I mean, it sounds like they were in love. I'm just trying to find out who they were. I was hoping you would know."

Rikki was watching me closely. She may have been deciding if she could trust me, or if this was some kind of trick.

"Roy," she said quietly, "if you're messing with me, or if this is some kind of prank, I'm going to kick your ass."

I was shocked that a girl would say such a thing. At first I was mad. I was going to tell her to kiss my butt and walk away, but then I remembered the mist, and the dim glow, and I decided that I needed to get to the bottom of this if I was going to have any peace. So I said, "No, this is no trick, I promise you. Listen, if I tell you something, will you try not to think I'm crazy?"

"Uh, okay," she said. Then she looked over my shoulder and said, "Is that your mom?"

I heard a horn toot behind me and turned around. Sure enough, there was my mother waiting for me. "Well, crap," I said. "I gotta go. Can I call you tonight?'

Rikki sighed and said, "Okay. After eight."

I was curious about something. "Hey," I said, "why always after eight?"

"Because," she replied, "by that time my grandmother has gone into her room for the night and we can talk in private."

"Oh. Okay. I'll talk to you tonight," I said, and ran to my mother waiting in the car.

"What's her name?" Mom asked when I got in.

"Rikki," I said. "She's just a friend."

"Is she the one you're working on the report with?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"She's pretty," my mom said appraisingly. "She has pretty blonde hair."

"I guess," I said.

Once again, I hurried through my homework. At seven-thirty, I was finished, and I couldn't make the call for thirty minutes, so I watched TV with my parents. At eight on the dot, I dialed Rikki's number and took the receiver into the bathroom. The phone rang six times before she picked up.

"Hello," she said.

"Rikki?" I said. "It's Roy."

"Oh, hi," she said. She sounded almost glad to hear me.

"So," I started, "I need to tell you something. It's actually kind of weird."

"Okay, so what is it?" she asked.

So I told her about the camping trip, about finding the letter from Everett in the tree and about what I thought it meant. I did not tell her about the ghost. "So they must have been in love," I said, "but I don't know who Lucy is. Do you?"

The line went silent for several seconds. I asked, "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here, Roy. Okay, I found a letter too," Rikki said.

"You did? Where?" I asked excitedly.

"I found it in a chest of old clothes, in a tin box, in the attic of the house I live in."

"What did the letter say?" I asked.

"It was a love letter," she said.

"Who was it from" I asked.

"It was from Lucy Chesterfield addressed to Everett Caldicott," Rikki said. "It was in an unopened envelope."

"So they must have written letters to each other before he went off to battle, but neither letter made it to the person it was meant for," I said.

"But that's not everything," Rikki said quietly.

"What else is there?" I asked.

"I don't want to tell you over the phone," she said. "Say, can you come over one day this weekend, maybe Friday night or Saturday?"

"Probably. I'll have to ask my parents. Hey, how about if I ask my parents if I can spend Friday night at my friend Bobby's house? Then we'll both come over to your house in the evening."

"I don't know," she said. "What kind of guy is Bobby?"

"He's full of crap a lot of the time, but he's okay," I said. "Besides, he'll want to hear the story."

"Okay, I guess." She sounded doubtful.

"Good. I'll call Thursday night to confirm."

"Okay," Rikki said. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," I said, and hung up.

I went ahead and asked my parents if I could camp out at Bobby's house that Friday night. My father raised his eyebrows and mumbled something about two weekends in a row, then returned his attention to the TV. My mom said she was okay with it. The next day at school, I asked Bobby about camping out in his back yard and he said, "Sure, my parents won't care." Then I told him the real reason for my coming over and his eyes got wide.

"We're going to see her at her house! Holy cow! Why?" he asked.

"She's got some information about the letter we found. She may have some info about the girl Lucy in the letter," I replied.

"Plus, you get a chance to get in good with her," Bobby said with a wink.

"It's not like that, man. She's barely a friend," I said, my ears burning. All the same, Bobby wasn't entirely wrong.

"If you say so," he said.

On Thursday night I called Rikki and told her I would be camping out over at Bobby's house on Friday night and would be over to see her about eight.

"Be sure to bring the letter and the box," she said.

"I will," I said.

The next day, I took my backpack with some extra clothes and my camping gear to school. At the end of the day, I went home with Bobby. I had seen Rikki during homeroom and told her we would walk over that night.

After school, Bobby and I walked to his house together. When we got there, his house was empty. Both his parents were still at work. We pitched the tent and set up camp, then spent the afternoon watching Superman and the Lone Ranger. At about six, his mom came home. She greeted us, then went into the kitchen to start supper. A little later his father came in, turned the TV to the news, and sat down with a beer. Bobby and I left and went to his room until supper.

Bobby's room was a typical teenaged boy's room, except that it was very neat and tidy. Bobby's father had been a marine, and he made sure that Bobby kept his room squared away. My room was a mess by comparison.

At six-thirty, Bobby's mom called us down to supper. We had hamburgers, fries, and baked beans, which Bobby said was usual for Friday night. After supper, Bobby asked his father if we could walk downtown to the Tastee Freeze for some ice cream. His father, engrossed in the TV, said okay, just don't stay out too late. We said we wouldn't and that we would just come back to our camp when we got back. Bobby kissed his mother goodnight, and we went out.

The first place we went, true to our word, was the Tastee Freeze. We each bought a cone of soft serve.

"Hey! I just remembered something," I said.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know where Rikki lives," I replied.

"Don't worry, I know where," Bobby said, licking his cone.

"How do you know?" I asked suspiciously.

"I followed her home one day," he said.

"You followed her home?" I asked. "Why?"

"Because, dummy, I wanted to see where she lived."

"Well, where does she live?" I asked.

"She lives over on Lee Street, right around the corner," he said.

"Well, let's get over there," I said. I was anxious to see her.

Bobby looked at his watch. It was seven forty-five. "We've got plenty of time," he said

We waited another five minutes and finished our ice cream. Then we got up and walked down the street to Rikki's house.

Rikki lived in an old two-story wooden house at the end of the street. One side of her fairly sizable yard bordered on an old, unused field. On the other side was her neighbor's house, another old wooden structure, but only one story. Rikki's yard had a waist-high hedge, poorly tended, all the way around. Her house had a covered porch that stretched around three sides of the building, including the side of the house that bordered on her neighbor. On the porch was a swing that hung from two chains secured to hooks in the ceiling. There were also several rocking chairs and a wooden bench. Though the house looked in good repair, some of the white paint was peeling. The front door was in the middle of the porch, and there were two windows on each side. The porch light was on.

Bobby and I climbed the porch steps, pulled open the screen door and knocked on the wooden front door. We waited for a few seconds, and then I knocked again. A few seconds later the door opened and there stood Rikki, dressed as she had been at school: tee shirt and blue jeans.

From inside the house, a querulous voice called out, "Who is at the door, Rikki?"

"Just some friends, Grandma," Rikki said over her shoulder.

Rikki let us in. We were standing in an entryway. In front of us was a staircase that led up to the second floor. Behind the stairway was a hall that stretched to the back of the house. To the right was the large living room. It was dimly lit by one table lamp. In the room, sitting on the couch, a book in her hands, was an elderly woman.

"It's a little late for visitors, isn't it, dear?" the lady said

"They won't be long, Grandma. It's about school," Rikki said.

"Well, all right then," the old lady said. She bent her head to her book.

Rikki led us upstairs to her room. Her room was the last one on the right, near the back of the house. We went in and she closed the door.

We all looked at each other, unsure of how to start. Finally I said, "This is my friend Bobby Craddock."

"Pleased to meetcha," Bobby said and held out his hand.

Rikki shook it and then stood there, looking at us expectantly.

"Okay," I said, "what do you have to show us?"

Rikki turned and rummaged under her bed. She pulled out a tin box similar to the one I'd found. She opened the box and took out a yellowed, faded envelope with spidery handwriting on it.

"I found this one day when I was here alone poking around in the attic. It was in a chest up there with a bunch of old clothes."

"Let's look at it, Bobby said. "Does it say anything about money?"

Rikki gave him a look. We took the letter over to her desk and turned on the lamp. She carefully extracted the letter from the envelope and spread it flat on the surface of her desk. "It's a little hard to read," she said, "but you can make it out if you look closely."

Here is what the letter said:

April 8, 1865

My Dearest Everett,

I am not sure whether this letter will find you before you go into battle, but I am going to write you, nonetheless. I know that by necessity you live among rough men, but do not forget your upbringing.

Although our families are not in agreement regarding our affection for each other, I am certain that if we pray, and keep faith with each other, all will be well. Almost every day I look at the simple dress of white muslin I have purchased and dream of wearing it for you at our wedding, wherever that may be.

In the meantime, my darling, please know that there is at least one woman back home who is devoted to you and our life together.

Please, please be careful, my love. If anything were to happen to you, I simply do not know what I would do. Come home to me. I shall be waiting.

All My Love,

Lucy

I pulled out my letter and spread it on the desk beside Rikki's. The paper looked to be the same age, although the writing was entirely different.

"Wow," I said quietly.

"He must have gotten killed in the battle," Bobby said. "I wonder what happened to her."

"I think I know," Rikki said.

"Well?" I said.

"I think she died of pneumonia that winter of 1865," Rikki said. "At least, that's what Grandma said when I asked about her. We pulled out an old Bible that had a family tree in it. Grandma opened it and found a girl named Lucy Chesterfield who was born in 1846 and died in 1865 when she was eighteen or nineteen.

"So they were in love, but their families didn't get along. Then he died in battle at the end of the war and she died of pneumonia that winter."

"So there you go," Bobby said. "Mystery solved."

"Not quite," Rikki said. "I've seen her."

"Seen who?" Bobby asked.

"I've seen Lucy."

For a few seconds, we were all silent. Then Bobby said, with a bit of sneer, "You too? Roy here says he's seen a ghost too, right in his own back yard!"

Rikki turned to me and said, "You've really seen something? What did you see?"

"I don't know for sure, but it may have been Everett's ghost." I said. And then I told her about waking up to go to the bathroom and seeing what must have been Everett's ghost in the corner of my yard.

"And the next day," Bobby said, 'we went down the path to the clearing and..."

"I snatched the box with letter in it out of a hole in the tree, but I got stung and so we..."

"Hightailed it outta there." Bobby interjected. "Man! You should've seen Roy run! I didn't know he could move so fast!"

"Well, were being chased by wasps," I said. "But that's not all." I looked at Rikki. "I've seen him and felt him a couple of times since then."

"Hey! Why didn't you tell me, you jerk!" Bobby said, punching me in the arm.

"Because I knew you'd probably make fun of me," I said defensively.

"Yeah," Bobby said, a slow grin spreading across his face, "you're probably right." He punched me again.

"What do you mean you've seen and felt him since that night?" Rikki said.

I told her about the times my room had been cold. How I'd opened up my window and seen the mist, glowing in the moonlight and beginning to form the shape of a man.

"But wait a minute," Bobby said to Rikki, "You said you'd seen Lucy. What do you mean?"

"Last weekend, I was here in my room alone. Grandma had gone to sleep and the house was quiet..." she started.

"By the way," Bobby broke in, "where are your mom and dad?"

Rikki looked at him as if she didn't want to say anything, but then she said quietly," My parents are divorced. My dad lives in North Carolina with his new wife, and my mom is a photojournalist. She travels around a lot. Right now she's somewhere in Asia shooting photographs for a magazine or something. Anyway..."

"Sounds cool," Bobby said.

"Bobby, will you be quiet and let her talk?" I said, exasperated.

He looked sheepish, and kept quiet.

"Anyway," Rikki said, "I was alone and the house was quiet. Then I felt the cold, and heard someone moving around downstairs. You know, steps, floors creaking, things like that. I thought it must be Grandma, since her bedroom is on the first floor. I went to the top of the stairs and looked down. It was then I saw the light under the door of the room at the bottom right of the stairs. It was yellow-white, and if flickered. I called out softly 'Grandma, is that you?' but got no answer. At the same time, I could barely hear a soft moan or sob coming from the room. I stood there a watched the light under the door for several minutes and then..." Rikki closed her eyes and swallowed. "She passed through the door."

Rikki had gone white, as if she was reliving the encounter.

"What do you mean she passed through the door?" I asked.

"I mean one second there was just the light under the door, and the next second she was standing outside the door, at the stairway landing. And then, and then..." Rikki said, tears coming to her eyes.

"What? Darn it!" I said.

With haunted eyes, Rikki said, "She looked right at me. And I was so scared." She hid her face in her hands and gave a sob.

"Holy shit," Bobby whispered.

I took a deep breath. "Did she seem mean? Or angry?" I asked.

"No," Rikki said. "Just kind of sad. But suddenly I was sad, and cold, too."

"What did she do next?" I asked.

"She turned and passed through the front door onto the porch. I went down the stairs and looked through the window at her. I could see her standing at the corner. She stood there for about fifteen minutes, and then she vanished."

"Have you seen her since then?" I asked.

"No, but I've felt the cold a couple of times. I'm just too scared to leave my room."

"Bet that makes for a problem if you have to, you know, pee during the night," Bobby said, chuckling.

"You are so gross," Rikki said disgustedly.

About that time, we heard, "Rikki?" from below.

"That's my Grandma," Rikki said. She left the room. I could hear her talking to the old lady. At one point, I heard the old lady say clearly, "It's time for your friends to go home."

Rikki came through the door. "You guys have got to go," she said.

Bobby and I both nodded, and then I had an idea. "What time did you see her, I mean Lucy?" I asked.

"It was between twelve midnight and one," she replied.

"How about if Bobby and I come back at twelve. You sneak out the back door and meet us at the corner of the porch. We'll wait for her together. Maybe she'll come out tonight."

She looked doubtful, then nodded her head yes. "Okay. I'll wait for you guys by the side of the house."

"Rikki! Tell your friends good night," came the voice from downstairs.

Then Rikki looked at me and grabbed my shirt. She pulled me close, looked me in the eye, and said, very seriously, "If you stand me up, I'm going to kick your ass, Roy Barrett."

I was a little shocked, but I stammered, "Don't worry, we'll be here at twelve."

As we left, Bobby looked at his watch, a Timex with a luminous dial. "It's eight-thirty. We have three and a half hours to kill. What do you want to do?"

"I say we go to your house, build a campfire, listen to the radio, and make some s'mores," I replied.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

We set off down the street toward his house. Once there, we listened to the radio and made s'mores over the campfire. The news was still about Paul McCartney leaving the Beatles and Apollo 13's successful return to Earth. Bobby's mother checked on us once, and his father wandered out at bout ten. He was smoking a cigarette and swigging a beer. He didn't say a lot, except, "You boys keep it quiet out here," and then walked back to the house.

Around us, the night grew steadily quiet. Bobby lived in an older, settled neighborhood and the houses along his street were usually dark by ten or a little after. The moon, past full the previous weekend, had not risen yet. At about ten-thirty or so, the lights in Bobby's house went out, a sign that his parents had gone to bed. A little later, a police cruiser glided slowly by.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew Bobby was shaking me and saying, "Hey Barrett, it's time to get up."

"Wha?" I said groggily, still half asleep.

"Time to head back over to Rikki's."

My head cleared with the mention of her name. "Rikki," I said, "yeah."

I got up, went to the corner of his yard away from the street, peed, and came back. We each got our flashlights and began walking. "I doubt we can be out at night like this," Bobby said, "so watch out for that patrol car."

It took about fifteen minutes to get to Rikki's house. As we approached it, nothing looked untoward. The house was dark and quiet, except there was a light in a window on the second floor. I realized that would be Rikki's room.

As we approached the house quietly, a dark figure detached itself from the shadows along the side. My heard jumped and I turned on my flashlight for a moment.

"Turn that thing off!" Rikki hissed from the darkness. She walked to us and said, "Hi guys. I haven't seen anything yet, but earlier I thought I heard something."

"Where do you want to wait?" I asked.

"Let's hide in the bushes between my house and the neighbors. That way we can see the porch."

There was a line of waist-high, untrimmed bushes between Rikki's house and the one next door. We stationed ourselves on the neighbor's side of the hedge, and settled in to wait.