309. Ghosts of the Old Manse

309. Ghosts of the Old Manse

I, Little Dolphus, the intellectual Leafy, have been asked about the ghosts that haunt Owlwood Manse. So I  went to visit the little cemetery there is on the grounds of that house. I went up to the wall that surrounds the manse and asked for permission to slip in through a crack and the wall wrote “Do so! Pass!” on itself and I did. The grass there was so tall I had to climb up a purple clematis vine wrapped round a rusty iron structure to see where I was. As if high on the crow’s nest of the mast of a ship, I looked around me and saw a swimming pool with light green water close to me, a log cabin to my right, hidden among large, leafy trees still at their youngest green, and then the old manse in the distance, and to its left, the cemetery plot I sought for. 

There was a breeze, and I took advantage of it, fluttering my wings and allowing it to carry me to where I wished to go, landing lightly on the mossy headstone of  a grave that belonged to a certain Juno. The cemetery was rife with little offerings that had been left there on the graves for ages and others that were new. They were gifts from grateful animals, such as a few acorns from squirrels and two or three cherries from birds who been attended by Lonefellow. Two little statues of angels there were, but mostly it was simple headstones, rounded or squared, that marked the graves. A cat and a dog rested before two of these, loyal, perhaps, to their once owners. There were fresh cut flowers, especially lilies and pansies, probably brought there by Tyrone and Felina,  and there were  flowers that were growing there beneath the late spring sun. Plenty of pink dog roses, white peace lilies, blue bacopa blooms, lavender zinnias and lavender itself grew there, once carefully planted, now wild.

I drew out the notebook where I jot down information and was about to write down the names on the headstones when Theophilus Shyboy, the boy who would have been heir to the manse, appeared leaning on one of the angels. His green-eyes  were squinting at the setting sun and his longish brown hair shook a little with the wind. There he stood, looking not a day over thirteen, and I wondered how long it had been since he had moved away from mortal life. He had reduced his size to match mine. My natural size, that is. So the stone angel looked like a giant behind him, instead of a dwarf at his knee.

“Which one is yours?” I asked, pointing at the graves.

“I haven’t got one,” he asnwered. “I’m supposed to have disappeared. I never got to die. I was saved at the last second. Turned into one of you. That’s what I am now. One of us.”

“Ah, yes, of course!” I said.

“People do tend to think I am a ghost. I’m not surprised you thought so. Why are you here? Not that I mind. I’m only curious, if I may be.”

“Of course I’ll give you an explanation. I’m on your property.”

I told him I had been asked who haunted Owlwood Manse and that I had thought browsing through the cemetery might give me an idea.

“They aren’t all here. At least not till December. Some show up at different times. Some do spend the summer here. My Uncle Longfellow and his wife Juno are here all year lately. They live in their part of the manse, just as they did when they were living. At first my uncle was very upset with my little brother Tyrone for having sold the manse, but that is over now, because Oberon has returned it to us. He’s a nice fellow, and a fair one most times. So he told Ty two limos can’t really pay for a bit of earth. Earth is far more valuable. Priceless, he said it was. He let Ty keep the limos when he returned the manse to him. He said Ty had been generous and he would be too. And he was. I was present when this happened.”

“Only Dr. Lonefellw and Miss Juno dwell here as ghosts?”

“I’ll start at the beginning. The Reverend Doubting Thomas Shyboy built this manse, as you may know. He retired here when he began to have doubts about the Bible after having read Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. Now he knows what it´s all about, he returned to the authentic old manse he once lived in and had abandoned to come to this one. His wife, Isabel Ruth, dwells back there with him. 

They do come here for Christmas. Their sons…they had two, Marius and Hermeticus. These two don’t look alike at all, but their character is similar. Both secretive and reserved. But they say hi when they see me, though not much else.  

Marius and his wife Melissa were much into gardening, and they still drop by about once a week and look after the orchard and the greenhouse here, but they don’t cut the grass because it would make their presence too obvious. But they talk to possible pests and dissuade them from visiting themselves on the grounds, and they water the place at night, surreptitiously, when needed.

Some nights you can hear music over at the Manse. It´s not fay music. It’s Hermeticus and his wife Lorna Pineaway. They drop by and play their old instruments. Now and again one hears his violin or her harp. This place is especially noisy at Christmas. Carols and all, you know.Ty and Felina are unaware of this because they visit her parents during the holiday season. 

Marius had a son, Tristan Edward. He married a mysterious lady who said her name wa Elaine Elfa right after the Second World War. She is very beautiful and a great cook. Both of them are great cooks. They opened a place called the Elfa Café in some city I forget, maybe in Paris. They come here and prepare the Christmas dinner and lunch, cluttering up the kitchen. But the result is wonderful. Of course, the ghosts only feed on memories of what they have eaten in life, unless one burns their food for them and they take in the essence with the smoke. But Elfa’s food helps them remember. I and any fay folk present eat to our fill and delight. They had no children that I know of, Eddy and Elfie. Hermeticus and Lorna had two sons. It took them a while, for they married late. He went to the West Indies to fetch her. One of their sons you are acquainted with.

Yes, the veterinarian Lonefellow Shyboy. His wife Juno was a very friendly, very funny and happy woman who died rather young. He never got over the loss. I think I said they are the only non-mortals ones who live here permanently, aside from me. They are happy again now. Together again. 

Lonefellow’s brother, Fred, was my father, and, of course, also Tyrone’s. Our mother was Alice. She kept bees and he was an insectologist, an expert in butterflies and ladybugs. They often spend the summer here. And we still have good honey because she sees to that yet. If there is anyone else haunting the place, well, I wouldn’t know." 

Theo seemed to have finished, but suddenly he added, "Ah, yes! Just the ghost Matheo, a kid who drowned in Lake Jittery and lives in that cabin there with his friends Dorotheo and Timotheo, two voluntary abductees, and fay now, almost as much as myself. We need a name for that. Changelings won’t do, because though of course they have suffered a change, that name is sort of reserved for exchangedlings, those mortals who were exchanged for bad fairies when they were babes. I let them live there, the other three Theos. They like life in the woods even more than I did. Do. I offered them rooms in the manse, but they prefer the cabin. I sleep in mine still. Up in what is almost an attic. I have that all to myself. I don’t make noise so as not to scare Felina. She looks like a ghost herself when she comes out here to play ball with the forest cats at midnight, but she doesn’t feel too comfortable among spectres. She makes Tyrone come out with her at night and she avoids this part of the manse at any time!" Theo pointed at the grave when he said that.  

 "The Theos do come over on Christmas Eve and Day too. By now you are probably aware that Christmas is the most ghost-active time of the year here at the manse.”

And then I got an invitation. Theophilus gave me a big smile and he added, “You can come have Christmas dinner with us, or lunch on Christmas Day, if you want to. And you can come wander all over this place whenever you wish. Leafies always have freedom of way here.”

And then he turned towards the graves and probably noticed the wee headstones on those of the pets, for he added, “Mustn’t forget the pets. Some live here all year. Others drop by with their former owners. That dog and that cat lounging on the graves are fay. I made them so. The dog is Barney, and he belonged to Uncle Lonefellow and I fayed him when Unk died, becaus he was distraught and beginning to look like a goner himself. And the cat is one of Felina’s, her eldest cat, and her name is Rebecca. She began to show wear at the age of twenty and I acted before she passed away.  The animals buried here, well they were Pinky Meow, a strawberry blonde cat that belonged to my mom, Alicia. Lulu was my mom’s black cat and Luna  was a grey cat that belonged to my Aunt Juno. Fluffy was her dog, Bitsy her fish and Itsy a mouse she adopted. Ralph was half-wolf, half-dog, Darling was a red fox. Tootsie was a snail and Pearl Uncle Eddy’s dog. I think that’s it.”                 

The sun had set and I looked up at the sky.

“There are a lot of angels hovering over the cemetery, aren’t there?” I said, looking up at the sky. “I can see them among the stars.”

“They’ve been picking flowers. About to wilt. Flowers can also be saved. The angels take them to the celestial gardens, where they bloom agan. There always are angels here. Because people said this was a sort of manse, I suppose. But you should see the sky on Christmas Eve. Do come over. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”  

"Don't leave me out. I´m a house cat ghost. Specially when it rains."