The Ghostly Hideaway (7 page)

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Authors: Doris Hale Sanders

Tags: #suspense, #ghosts, #suspense mystery

BOOK: The Ghostly Hideaway
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“Good morning." The sheriff introduced the others
with him and Ed indicated his family and their names. They looked
up when they heard whistling and saw Johnny coming across the cow
pasture.

When Johnny got there, Chrissy introduced Johnny to
her family and JoJo introduced herself to the twins. She wiggled
her head under their hands demanding to be petted. Chrissy turned
to introduce Johnny to the sheriff but soon realized that wasn’t
necessary as he spoke to Johnny in a familiar way.

“Hi, Johnny. Are you continuing your friendship with
Clifton’s family?”

Johnny assured him that he was.

“We were about to set out on a search for Clifton.
Would you want to go along?”

“Is there any way I might be able to help?”

“You just might, Johnny, if you know the location of
the little cemetery where Aunt Lorraine is buried.”

“Oh, yes, and sure I do. Shall I point or lead the
way?" Johnny winked at Chrissy and she was thrilled with his Irish
brogue.

“If you have the time, we would appreciate a guide.
We’re trying to see if we can find a sign of where Uncle Cliff
might be. Sheriff Lampton has made inquiries in town as to his
possible whereabouts and no one seems to know."

“When did you last see him, Johnny?"

“It was the middle of June, Sheriff. I didn’t think
he looked well; but he assured me he was fine."

“Uncle Cliff’s journal mentioned Johnny’s visit. It
said he wasn’t feeling well but he tried not to worry Johnny about
it.”

“Well, let’s go see what we can find, people. We men
will go look and the rest of you should wait here if you don’t
mind." Johnny had already taken off in the direction he figured Mr.
Coy would have taken to go to the cemetery.

In less than an hour, they were all back. Ed looked
at Penny. “We found him, Honey, and as we feared, he’s gone. Since
he died alone, there will have to be an investigation by the
coroner and a coroner’s inquest, I suppose. But it seems pretty cut
and dried. He was at the gravesite, lightning hit the old oak tree,
and it toppled over on top of him. Until the tree is removed, there
won’t be any way to tell if he died before the tree fell or because
of the falling tree. But, at any rate, he’s out of his misery and
we can be glad of that even though we’re sorry to have lost both of
them.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wroe; but it does look as if he died
instantly either of a heart attack or when the tree fell, so I
don’t think he suffered. We’ll go on back to town, get the coroner,
and bring him back out here. We’ll get this finished up as soon as
possible. My condolences, Mrs. Wroe.”

“Thank you, Sheriff; all of you, thanks." Penny
didn’t have to pretend to be upset. With the reading of his
journal, they had all come to think of him as one of their own even
before they knew he actually was. Therefore, the tears were genuine
and the sorrow a true emotion.

Later that afternoon, the coroner confirmed the
cause of death as a heart attack. Tests showed that he had been
dead, possibly for several hours, before the tree struck him as it
fell. It did pin the body down and prevent predators from attacking
the body. Insects alone had had access and, therefore, the
deterioration of the flesh had been slower and undisturbed by wild
birds and animals. Even after almost a month, the remains could
still substantiate that the cause of death was a heart attack. It
was determined no inquest would be necessary and the body could be
released for burial immediately.

“I know Uncle Cliff would certainly want to be
buried next to Aunt Lorraine." Penny was as sure of this as she
would have been if she had heard him say it. “I’m afraid we know
almost nothing about his friends and acquaintances here. Are there
other people whom we should notify of the burial? I don’t think we
need a formal funeral unless he had more friends than we’re
thinking he probably did. The body, of course, would not be
viewable so if no one objects, I think we’ll have only a graveside
service.”

“I’m in agreement. I would suggest you talk to Bro.
Mosser at the Baptist Church about the service. I believe that’s
where they went to church when they were able to go. I’d be glad to
suggest he come see you if you’d like me to.”

“Thank you Sheriff. That would be much appreciated.
I guess we’ll need to talk to the undertaker, too, and arrange for
a coffin with all the accessories, flowers, and everything. He’ll
also need a good monument. The makeshift one that was there was
broken to bits by the falling tree, they said. It will need to be a
triple headstone—one for Aunt Lorraine, for Uncle Cliff and for
Baby Cliffie, or actually one headstone with all three names. I’ll
have to do some research somewhere to get exact dates of births and
deaths. I have a general idea but nothing definite.”

“I’m sure you would be able to get those dates at
the library or the health department, Mrs. Wroe.”

“Thanks, again, Sheriff.”

Penny began a more thorough search of the old roll
top desk. She somehow felt freer to look than she had before she
knew for sure Uncle Cliff was dead. She had no trouble thinking of
the old man as her uncle. Even though she had never really known
him, it seemed as though she had. She did feel quite close to him
after looking through the family picture album and reading his
journal. And there was apparently no one else to care. She had been
searching for no more than half and hour when she discovered their
birth certificates and some other papers in the back of a drawer.
They were fastened together with a rubber band that snapped in two
as soon as she barely touched it. As she went through the little
bundle, she also found dates for Baby Cliffie’s short life. He had
lived just three days. Also, in the little handful of documents
were Aunt Lorraine’s death certificate and another official-looking
paper. As she unfolded it, she saw that it was Clifton Coy’s last
will and testament.

As she read it, tears formed in her eyes. She
read:

*

I, Clifton Calhoun Coy, being of sound
mind, do hereby bequeath my entire estate and all the worldly goods
that I possess to my niece, Penelope Langley, if she can be found.
If she cannot be located, then I care not what becomes of any of my
belongings, except that I want Johnny O’Reilly to have my old
shotgun. He knows where it’s hidden. The only other thing I ask is
that I be laid to rest in a grave beside my lifelong sweetheart,
Lorraine, and our baby and that the little graveyard be shown the
respect and reverence a final resting place deserves. Witness my
hand this 14
th
day of June, 2005.

*

Tears were flowing freely now and Penny could almost
feel the hopelessness in the last official words written by the old
man. The will was signed but it hadn’t even been witnessed, a
testament to his lonely and solitary existence as well as his last
wishes. Penny wished fervently that they might have arrived early
enough to alleviate some of that loneliness before the end
came.

 

The next few weeks found the curtain closing on the
Coy family. Almost no one came to the funeral but the Wroes’
readings in Clifton Coy’s journal didn’t mention many friends. It
seemed that they had pretty much lived as hermits for the last
several years, keeping almost exclusively to themselves. Johnny and
his dog were about the only visitors that were referred to at
all.

When the monument was set, the little graveyard
looked most presentable and Ed and Johnny built a picket fence
around the site. Penny made weekly trips up the hill to put fresh
flowers on the graves from the flower beds she was sure Aunt
Lorraine had made and loved.

As autumn approached, the fruit in the little
orchard began to ripen and Ed carefully picked the apples and
peaches and a few pears. They gathered almost two full bushel
baskets of apples, carefully wrapped each apple in newspaper and
put them into a flat box to store under one of the beds. Those with
bad places, she turned into apple jelly. The cool, dark space there
should let them keep until Christmas. The peaches were peeled and
put into freezer bags with sugar and put into the big freezer in
the pantry. The pears they ate as they ripened except they froze a
few packages of them in freezer bags. They expected an even better
crop by next fall if Ed could take care of them better next
spring.

Occasionally, Chrissy would wake up in the morning
to a beautiful little bouquet of flowers and she still didn’t know
how they got there; but somehow they always made her think of
Johnny. The bouquet was especially pretty this morning. And then
she remembered: she was nineteen years old today. With so much
going on for the last several weeks, it was entirely possible that
no one would remember that it was her birthday. She still couldn’t
begin to explain how Johnny got the flowers on her nightstand and
maybe it wasn’t even him doing it. She wished she could wake up and
catch whoever or whatever was leaving them for her. At any rate,
they were beautiful; but she still hadn’t mentioned the flowers to
her family. Somehow, they seemed too personal to share with anyone
else...

She went downstairs after she got dressed. It sure
was going to be another hot August day. She wondered—.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday!" Everyone was singing,
‘happy birthday’; even Johnny was there and they had hung the
family room with balloons and streamers and a birthday cake was
arranged on the coffee table with plates, forks, napkins and
everything. Chrissy was truly surprised and extremely pleased. She
truly didn’t expect them to remember much less to plan a surprise.
She was so touched, she had to turn her head and wipe the tears
from her eyes.

“We didn’t know what to get you for your birthday,
but here are your gifts, Chrissy. Open them." Her mother was
excited for her.

“Oh, Mom, the beautiful winter jacket is great and I
did need it. Now, what on earth is this big one?" Chrissy began
tearing paper and soon revealed the shiny, cedar hope chest her Dad
had made for her. It would hold a lot of stuff she thought as she
opened it to see inside. A small foldout compartment was fastened
into the lid and as she shoved it up to fold into the lid, she saw
some things had been placed in the bottom of the chest. She pulled
them out and was suddenly crying.

“Oh, Mom, this is one of the quilts Grandma Langley
made, isn’t it? And this is the only one you had that Grandma
Gertie made; both of them are completely hand sewn. And where did
this one come from? Did I see this among the things in the linen
closet? I’ll bet Aunt Lorraine made this one. And there’s still
another one. Oh, Mom, this is one you made when I was just a little
girl. I must have been about Candy’s age. You can’t imagine just
how proud I am of all of them; and Dad the chest is the most
beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I never expected to have anything
this nice. Thank you so very much." As they were hugging and
kissing, the third floor ghosts slammed the doors—not once but
three times. “I think that says the ghosts approve, too.”

“We made you a card, Chrissy." The twins needed some
attention, too.

“Oh, I want to see it; right now! Oh, how wonderful.
You even made the envelope, too, didn’t you? Let’s see inside. Did
you write all this yourselves? I didn’t know you could do this
good! ‘Happy Birthday, Chrissy. We love you so much!’ And it’s
signed, ‘Andy and Candy.’ Thanks a bunch. It means much more since
you did it yourselves.”

“Well, of course, Mom helped us but she let us do
the writing as she showed us how.”

“It’s, really special and I’m going to keep it in my
hope chest right here in the little top drawer where I’ll keep all
my special treasures from now on.”

Candy and Andy were pleased with themselves as
Chrissy hugged and kissed them as she had her folks.

“Oh! Thank you all for remembering. Thanks for all
the work you did to celebrate and to make my gifts and give me a
special day. Can you believe I’m nineteen years old?”

“No, I can’t! It seems it's been no more than a
couple of years since I was changing your diapers." Penny was about
to cry, too.

“Oh, Mom, you don’t have to bring up things like
that! That’s embarrassing!" Chrissy couldn’t quite look at Johnny;
she was too mortified.

“Well, at least I haven’t brought out the pictures
of you without your diaper on the white chenille bedspread."
Everybody laughed; Chrissy, too, but it didn’t seem quite as funny
to her as it did everybody else. This time she did look sideways at
Johnny. He was laughing, too, and Chrissy turned several shades of
red.

“May I help you take your beautiful chest up to your
room, Chrissy?" It was apparent that Johnny was feeling somewhat
left out, too.

“Sure, I’ll appreciate it a lot." They got it up to
her room and set it at the end of her bed and then Johnny gave her
the card he had bought the week before when Ed had mentioned that
Chrissy’s birthday was coming up.

“This isn’t much but I wanted to let you know I was
thinking about you on your birthday. Happy Birthday, Christina
Marie.”

Chrissy opened it and the front of the card said,
‘To Someone Very Special, Happy Birthday." Inside it had a tiny
bouquet of for-get-me-nots that looked very much like the first
flowers he had left for her. It said, “I know this is a special
day/When dreams can all come true/But it couldn’t be as super/As
extraordinary you." He had signed it: “With Love, Johnny.”

“Thank you, Johnny. I’ll treasure this, too." She
leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then she put
the card in the little tray in her hope chest where she had said
she’d keep all her special keepsakes.

It did turn out to be a truly special day and
everyone enjoyed it very much, especially Chrissy and Johnny.

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