Read The Haunting of Thanksgiving Page 3

wasn’t scared, too, but I wasn’t going to admit it. The moaning wind suddenly gusted louder, adding to my sense of dread.

  Dad was headed back toward my room, the flashlight making hardly a dent in the blackness, when suddenly, overhead, a dimly glowing basketball sized apparition whizzed by into my room and out again, right over Dad’s head. He ducked, looked up. “What the hell…” he yelled, startled.

  “Watch your language, William,” Mom’s voice drifted out from the master bedroom. The strange apparition whizzed overhead again and swooped down the stairway, hitting the wall and scraping off droplets of the dimly lit material it seemed to be made of.

  By now Uncle Art and Auntie Liz had joined us, standing outside their door. In the gloom, I could faintly see them staring openmouthed down the stairwell. I was standing out on the hall landing, too, and even Maryanne had become more curious than fearful and was standing close to me and staring, tightly holding my hand.

  “I was really scared, terrified, but I didn’t want to be alone in the bed! Good thing you were there to protect me, Tom,” present-day Maryanne remarked, her eyes just as big and round as they had been that night. “That was a real-life ghost.”

  “A ghost can’t be real-life, silly,” Cherie piped up, somewhat disrespectfully, I thought. “Ghosts are not even alive, they can’t be real-life.” She learns all this stuff on TV.

  “Settle down, everyone,” I said. “There’s a story going on here.”

  As we watched, another dimly glowing shape floated by. It was much thinner and smaller and I couldn’t quite make out what it was before it disappeared into the guest room.

  “My God, it’s in our room! We’re haunted!” cried Auntie Liz. “We’re all doomed!” Auntie Liz tended to be a little dramatic but maybe she was right, how would I know? This whole thing was getting scarier. I squeezed Maryanne’s hand.

  From the kitchen we heard a strange howling noise coming from the terrified cat behind the stove. It made shivers run up and down my spine. Maryanne held my hand tighter and I could feel her trembling. Or was that me trembling?

  “What in the world is going on out here?” Mom had just come out of her room, wrapping her warm robe around herself. “Can’t a body get some sleep?” Then the luminous thing—the ghost—came scraping up the stairwell at high speed, shedding drops of luminosity as it went. It swung around into Maryanne’s room, briefly illuminating our staring eyes as it sped past. Mom glared at it in disgust. “Well, we’ll take care of this right now.” Mom shook her head in exasperation. “Do I have to do everything around here?”

  She marched down the steps, on into the kitchen and came immediately back up, broom in hand.

  The rest of us were watching the smaller ghost float out of the guest room and into the middle of the hall above us and only Maryanne noticed the larger one come hurtling out of her own room heading right for us. Fast. She screamed a terrified scream.

  Then we heard the swish of Mom’s broom as it swept the ghost into the wall. The ghost bounced, little pieces of it dribbling off, and headed right for that smaller apparition. The two collided, and stuck together! The little ghost was on top and now, together, they looked just like a kind of lopsided old turkey. Like Missus Gob!

  “They did! They stuck right together with the little one on top! That was her neck and head and beak! And then they made that ghost noise! Gobblegobblegobble! I was so scared!” Maryanne sounded just like she had so long ago. Cherie laughed and I had to smile, but officially I frowned. “Who’s telling this story,” I asked.

  “Ok, ok,” Maryanne quieted down.

  That’s right, though. The ghost or ghosts said ‘gobblegobblegobble’ and sounded exactly like Missus Gob.

  “There. That ought to take care of that!” Mom said emphatically and handed me the broom. “Put that back in the kitchen, please, we won’t be needing it any more.”

  The ghost started getting bigger and bigger, bloating, swelling up like a balloon. Then it suddenly burst with a wet sounding ‘plop’ and scattered luminosity all over everything. Later, when she was telling everybody about it, Auntie Liz called that luminous stuff ‘ectoplasm’, whatever that is.

  “Who was that?” Maryanne asked, her eyes big, looking around at the fading ‘ectoplasm’. “It sounded just like Missus Gob!”

  “Yes,” Auntie Liz echoed, her hand to her face. “Who was that? What was that? Is it gone? Are we safe now? We’re not doomed any more?”

  I went down the stairs, into the kitchen, looking all around for more ghosts. I didn’t see any ghosts but did see Fluffy peeking fearfully out from her hiding place behind the stove. I put the broom away as instructed.

  When I came back up, Mom was explaining to everyone about ghosts and turkeys and how you had to be real careful not to disturb the equilibrium or something like that. Didn’t make any sense to me then and still doesn’t.

  “That kind of thing used to happen to Gramma all the time,” she said. “They get separated, you know, if you don’t hold the axe just right.” She glanced reproachfully at Dad. “Got to find one another and get back together or they get all weird. Turkeys aren’t too smart, you know, alive or dead. Nothing to worry about, though. Let’s try and get some sleep.”

  We all trooped back to our respective beds and tossed and turned listening to the wailing of the wind and thinking about ghosts and turkeys and Missus Gob. We didn’t get much sleep that night.

  “And that was it. A true ghost story right here in this very house!” I said.

  “I don’t believe that story,” said one of the boys, Sam, I think. Sam was always the skeptic. “I don’t think turkeys have ghosts.”

  “It is so a true story,” said Cherie indignantly. “My Mom was there and she saw it! She was six. Right Mom? And Uncle Tom, he was even bigger and he saw it, too!”

  “Maybe it wasn’t really a turkey,” Tim said with a scrunched-up scary look on his face, trying to make the girls squeal. “Maybe it was a horrible evil ghost in disguise. Maybe it was in Missus Gob and it’s here tonight and it’s going to get us all!”

  The boys didn’t look at all convinced or concerned, and went on up to bed with Jeanine when ordered. Tim hadn’t even been able to impress the girls with his monster act, so he gave up on being scary and started packing up the toys and clothes and everything else the girls had brought, a lengthy procedure, while Maryanne and I said our goodbyes.

  Maryanne gave me a quick hug and held my hand as she always had. “I miss Mom so much, and Dad, too,” she said, sadly, with the beginning of a tear. This was a wonderful Thanksgiving, but they should be here.”

  “Yes, they should be,” I agreed, hugging her again. “And, in a way, they are whenever we’re all together. I’m glad you and everyone came today, and I’m really glad I have you for a sister, Maryanne.” She smiled again and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I love you, Tommy,” she said with an almost-teary face and turned to help Tim with the packing.

  Finally organized, Maryanne and Tim gathered the girls and all their paraphernalia, along with a big bag of leftovers, and prepared to leave. As she was backing out the door, loaded down, Maryann glanced into the darkened kitchen doorway and put a sudden startled look on her face, her eyes big.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Oh…um…probably nothing,” she murmured and went on out to join Tim.

  Yes, of course, I had to go look in the kitchen. And, no, I didn’t see anything.

  Not that day, anyway.

  ######

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  Thanks!

  Ted

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