1/15/2015

A Haunting in New England | By Joseph N. Wdowski

NOT FOR BOYS

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Chapter One - Arrival

Trees, the number and height of them, trees are what eleven year old Nathaniel noted

most as they entered New England. The trees formed a canopy over the roadway filtering in rays

of sunlight from the blue sky above. He loved the feeling. Once off the highway he rolled down

his window to take in the fresh and crisp autumn air. His step-mom and dad followed his lead by

also rolling down their windows. After only a few miles down a country road, with farms and

orchids on each side of them, his father soon pulled their car into the parking lot of the building

they would be living in. The moving truck, with their things, had arrived bit earlier and was

already half empty. The moving crew was working quickly and efficiently. Their new home was

a large stone factory renovated into an apartment complex. The building was shaped like a giant

letter “L.” The parking lot was nestled between the two wings of the building. One to the west of

them and a larger but shorter building to the south The larger south wing's east wall was flush

against a small fast moving river. Mounted on its east end was a large motionless water wheel.

“This is so beautiful.” said his step-mother as they all got out of the car. She wrapped her

arms around Nathan’s father’s left arm. His step-mom was from China. She had a degree in

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English, yet still spoke with a slight Chinese accent. His father had met his step-mother when he

was teaching university in China.

“I thought you would like it.” His father replied leading her to the trunk of the car to grab

their bags. “I understand the nights here are filled with stars, since there is very little light

pollution compared to back in the city. The skies here are also not polluted like back in China.

She gave his father a slight slap on his shoulder “Why do you always have to criticize

China?” she asked with a huff in her voice.

“It’s not true?” he replied “Would you rather we go back to China?”

“No, I don’t want to go back to China.” She answered annoyed “but still, you don’t need

to criticize my homeland all the time.”

“After four years there I am just happy to see blue skies again.” He lifted the heavier bags

out of the trunk carrying them towards the back entrance of the building. Nathaniel grabbed his

book bag and his backpack as his step-mom grabbed her smaller suitcases, both followed his

father.

Their apartment was a half flight of stairs up on the main floor. Their landlord was at

their apartment door and was kind enough to let the movers in. Stepping into the apartment

Nathaniel found the apartment to be very large, modern, and clean. The landlord handed his

father the keys and was about to leave when he stopped to speak with Nathaniel. He wished that

he would enjoy his new home, but warned him. “Whatever you do; do not go into the south wing

or top floor of this wing.”

“Why not?” Nathaniel asked the landlord.

“Trust me, they are not for boys.” replied the landlord.

“What do you mean?” Nathaniel questioned.

“Let me just say that this building is still very old. There are things little boys should not

tamper with. Strange things that may frighten you, perhaps even hurt you.” The landlord

explained “It is safer for you not to go into the south wing or the top floor. All of the building is

not renovated like your new apartment.” The landlord left with a smile along with the last of the

moving crew.

Nathaniel felt a chill come across him. What could be so strange and perhaps hurt him he

thought. He looked to his father and step-mom, they seemed so happy with their new home. The

apartment was large and airy with high ceilings. His father, whom did most of the cooking, loved

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the new kitchen. It had a gas oven with plenty of counter space to prepare food, gas burners and

oven, a stainless steel dishwasher, garbage compactor, and stainless steel frig with ice water and

crushed ice machine in the door. It was very modern kitchen in a very old building.

His step-mother loved her walked-in closet with draws for all her things and a shoe rack.

The master bathroom had a whirlpool tub so she could soak in bubbles after work. There were

three bedrooms; the master bedroom, the second bedroom (was turned into his father’s office,)

the third bedroom was Nathaniel’s bedroom. It was the smallest bedroom, but still a good size

for a boy his age. It was a corner bedroom, unlike the office, so he had windows on two walls

that looked over the small New England river. Beyond the river was a wooded area. The leaves

were already turning golden, yellow, orange, and red, with some hints of green leaves still

holding on. From the east window, from the corner of his eye, almost out of his view, he could

view the building’s old wooden waterwheel. The wheel looked as if it had not moved for over a

century. It was overgrown with strong heavy vines that seemed to strangle the old wheel into a

deadlock.

Nathaniel felt strangely comforted that the vines were holding the wheel in place. He had

an awful feeling that if that old wheel was set free, something terrible and horrible would

happen. It was starting to get dark so he closed the window shades and turned on the light in his

room.

The headboard of his bed was against the one wall without windows or a door. He had a

night table on each side of his bed. On the wall with his bedroom door, his father had assembled

storage racks for all his Lego blocks and other games and toys. Nathaniel hoped to be an

engineer some day. He did well in math, and loved building things with his Lego blocks. He

wanted very much to design space ships or robots.

He liked his new bedroom. He liked the carpeted floor with plenty of room to spread out

and play with his toys. In the corner of the windowed walls his father had set up a work table for

him with a chair. It was perfect to look out the windows and build his starship or robot designs.

He only wished he had his own television in the room, but his father did not want him spending

too much time just watching TV. He encouraged Nathaniel to use his creativity, not just sit

passively watching television. His father had setup a bookcase in the opposite corner of the

windows, with a reading lamp and chair near his bed. The bookcase was filled with all of

Nathaniel’s books, but his father also allowed him to read the books in the office. By example

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Nathaniel's dad had taught him the joy of reading. His dad would read at least a book a week. His

grandmother, his Dad told him, use to read three books a week.

That night Nathaniel’s dad did not feel like cooking, so they ordered pizza. It was not as

good as the pizza they would make at home, but he still loved any pizza. The living room was

not very big, but cozy with a front projection TV his father had hung from the ceiling and a

movie screen on the wall that did not have windows. It was like their own little private movie

theater where they could watch TV or movies on DVD. Nathaniel and his step-mom were both in

the mood for a scary movie as the sun set and the pizza finally arrived. They gathered on the

couch placing the pizza and their drinks on the coffee table.

“You sure you want to watch a scary movie?” his father asked.

“Yes.” Both Nathaniel and his step-mom replied.

“You’re not going to have nightmares? The last scary move we watched you said you

didn’t want to watch any more scary movies.” answered his father.

“If you watch with us we won’t be scared.” replied his step-mom, Nathaniel nodded in

agreement.

“Really?” his dad replied. “Ok then, how about a very scary Japanese movie called

Ringu, or The Ring in English. It is based on a Japanese novel about a dead girl with long hair

that climbs out of the TV. You want to see that?”

Nathaniel and his step-mom both nodded yes. They each sat on one side of his father

each gripping one of his arms for security as the movie began. The film was very scary as his

father had promised. It was so scary that often Nathaniel and his step-mom covered their eyes

during the scariest parts as they tightened their holds onto his father’s arms. When the movie was

over, his father got up and turned on the lights. “You both missed the best parts.”

“It was too scary.” Nathaniel’s step-mom replied.

“I watched most of it.” bravely answered Nathaniel.

“Well now it is time to go to bed. Nathaniel, please help me clean up. Put the dishes and

glasses in the dishwasher and I will put away the left over pizza.” His dad began packing away

the pizza. Nathaniel stood from the couch and gathered the plates and glasses from the coffee

table, placing them all in the dishwasher in the kitchen.

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“Thank you, Nathaniel.” His father always thanked him when he would help out “now go

wash up, brush your teeth, and get ready for bed.”

“Can I stay up a little longer?” asked Nathaniel “It is not that late, and I want to try to

forget the movie, so I can sleep.”

“After you wash up we can talk in my room if you want.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

After washing up, Nathaniel showed up in their bedroom with a sleeping bag and a

pillow. “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Why?” asked his father

“He is scared from that horrible movie.” replied his step-mom “I am too.”

“You two are so silly. You both know it was just a movie.”

“Can I please?”

“Fine, you can sleep at the foot of the bed, if makes you feel any better. But really, I do

not understand why you both always want to watch them, if you're going to be like this every

time we watch a scary movie.”

Nathaniel set up his bedroll at the foot of their bed and climbed in. With his head on his

pillow he asked his father many questions. Mostly questions about animals and history, anything

to get his mind off the dead girl with the long hair in the movie that would climb out of the TV.

“Dad, I am thirsty.” Nathaniel told his father after talking for thirty minutes.

“Go get something to drink in the kitchen.” his father replied “Just don’t disturb the girl

sitting on the couch in the living room.”

Both Nathaniel and his step-mom screamed at the idea of the girl in the movie sitting on

their couch in the living room. “I can’t believe you said that!” his wife scolded and hit him “You

are so terrible!”

“Dad, I was trying to forget her!” Nathaniel covered his face with his sleeping bag.

“It is ok, just don’t disturb her when you go to the Kitchen. I am sure she won’t bother

you. If you don't bother her.” His father teased them more as they both screamed more and

laughed at the same time. They insisted that he had to go with them into the kitchen to get their

drinks. Neither would go into the other room without him, and neither wanted him to go alone to

the kitchen, leaving them behind in the bedroom without him. So all three of them bravely went

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through the living room to the kitchen together, discovering there was no girl sitting on the couch

waiting for them.

Nathaniel finally fell asleep. Luckily he had no nightmares about the girl that came out of

the TV. The next morning he woke before his father and step-mom, rolled up his sleeping bag

and brought it back to his room. He opened the shades to his windows letting in the morning sun

Its rays were shining through the upper branches of the trees across the small river. He made sure

to check that waterwheel was still being firmly held by the thick green vines. It was Saturday

morning and of course no school today. As he was turning his back to his windows to get

breakfast he noticed in the corner of his eye a young girl walking towards the waterwheel. At

first the sight of her startled him. She had long hair like the girl in the movie last night, but her

hair was golden, not black. She wore a pair of blue jeans, white sneakers with pink laces, and

bright red jacket with a hood, not a long white dress. She looked more like a modern little red

riding hood than a Japanese ghost that climbs out of a TV.

He tapped on the glass to get her attention. She turned to face him. She looked as if she

was the same age as Nathaniel. Seeing him she gave him a beautiful smile while waving to him

come out and join her. He decided to skip breakfast to go out to meet her instead.

Nathaniel quickly put on his wind breaker and his sneakers and ran out. By the time he

opened the back door of the building the sun was just above the tree line. Shading his eyes to see

her, she stood waiting for him, still smiling and waving to him. Approached little red riding hood

he could see that she was actually even pretty up close than she was from afar. Unlike most of

his male friends his age, Nathaniel had a weak spot for pretty girls. He smiled as he approached

her. “Hi, I am Nathaniel. We just moved in yesterday.”

“Hello, Nathaniel, I’m Michelle. We moved into the building only last week.”

“Nice to know there are other kids in the building.”

“We are the only two, if you don’t count my baby brother. He's only two. My mom

remarried.”

“My Dad too, although they don’t have any children, yet that is.” Nathaniel replied. “I

think my step-mom wants to, it's her first marriage. My Dad says he hopes it is his last.”

“That is good to hear.” Michelle laughed.

“Do you come out here often? I mean near the waterwheel?”

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“Interesting, isn’t it?” Michelle turned to look up at the large wooden wheel.

“I guess, but for some strange reason I am happy those vines seem to be keeping it from

moving.”

“I know what you mean.” turning to Nathaniel Michelle whispered “I have heard some

stories about the history of this old building.”

“Stories?” Nathaniel stepped a bit closer to her. “What have you heard?”

“That this used to be, of course, a factory, where only young girls worked. The south

wing was where they worked. Twelve hours a day, 6 days a week. Only Sundays they were

allowed off to go to the church that was located on the other side of the river.”

Nathaniel looked across the river “There's no church on the other side of the river.”

“The story is one of the girls set the church on fire.” She stepped closer to him, speaking

even lower in volume, as if she was afraid someone, or something, would over hear her. “You

can still find its stone foundation in the woods. At least that is what I've heard.”

She then looked to their wing of the building. “The girls slept on the top floor of our

wing, above our apartments.”

“Do you know why the girl burned down the church?”

Michelle shrugged her shoulders. “No. I don’t even know if the story is even really true. One of

the local workman told me the story.”

“What did they make here?” Nathaniel questioned her.

“No one seems to know that. It was shut down a long time ago, Over hundred and fifty

years ago.” She answered. “Have you been to the south wing yet?”

“No, the landlord told me it was ‘Not for boys.’ Is it for girls?”

“It use to be only for girls, but I have not had the courage to go in there to see for

myself.” Michelle replied. “Perhaps you would go with me sometime and we can find out what

they use to make here? That is if you are not afraid.”

Nathaniel stood up straight as if Michelle had just challenged him “I am not afraid. Let

me know when you want to go. We can go now if you wish.”

Michelle turned a bit pale at the thought. “Perhaps not today.”

Nathaniel was relieved she did not take him up on his bluff. He too was not ready to face

whatever was in the south wing. He kept thinking of all those young girls slaving away for hours,

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day after day, month after month, and year after year on machines powered by that old cranking

waterwheel. A waterwheel that nature has felt necessary to halt from ever turning again.

When Nathaniel walked into the apartment his father was already setting the table.

“Decided to make a brunch, like my mother used to make every Sunday.” His father told

him as Nathaniel took off his windbreaker and his shoes (a habit from his mother being from

Taiwan, and his father having lived in Asia for so long.)

“It’s Saturday” replied Nathaniel.

“I know, but since it is our first full day here and your step mother and I over slept, it is

too late for breakfast and too early for lunch.” His father placed a large steaming cheese omelet

mixed with Genoa salami, cooked ham, and small pieces of pepperoni in the center of the table.

Nathaniel’s grandmother was half Italian, but she had died before he was born. His father put on

the table toasted bagels, cream cheese, and smoked salmon. Even though his father lived many

years in Asia, the New Yorker in him never left him. Next came the blueberry pancakes with of

course real maple syrup, and a plate of Nathaniel’s favorite; cooked bacon strips.

“Dad, do you plan to feed an army? There is only the three of us.”

“Actually we are having guests, the little girl you were talking to and her family will join us. I

met her mother this morning when we were both looking for the two of you.” At that moment the

doorbell to the apartment rang.

Nathaniel went to open the door. Standing in front of her parents, next to her little brother

was Michelle minus her little red riding hood jacket.

“Come right in.” Nathaniel’s Dad called out to them, “Hope you are all hungry. Honey,

they are here and brunch is on the table!” Nathaniel’s step-mom walked in from the master

bedroom smiled and greeted their new neighbors.

It was a great brunch. His dad really could cook, and somehow this style of brunch

always made Nathaniel feel closer to his grandmother. The adults seemed to all get along very

well. Michelle’s mother was a math teacher at the local high school. Her step-father was a

robotics engineer that had just taken a new job at a small new robotics company started by some

former M.I.T. professors. Michelle’s step-dad was originally from India. He was tall, with dark

eyes, and very handsome, like one of those Bollywood movie stars. Michelle’s mom was blond

like her, with even bluer eyes than Michelle’s. Nathaniel could imagine that many of the high

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school boys must have enjoyed taking her math classes. He was not sure if they could

concentrate on the math formulas she was teaching them. She was a very attractive woman. Yet,

Nathaniel thought not as pretty as Michelle.

“So, Nathaniel, your father tells me you want to be an engineer?” asked Michelle’s step-

dad with a slight sing-song Indian accent.

“Yes, very much so,” Nathaniel answered “I wanted to design the first interstellar

starship, but now I am more interested in robotics.”

“Star Trek fan?” her step-father questioned.

“My dad is more of a Star Trek fan. I like it, but enjoy the Transformers more.”

“Well like many of my colleagues, Star Trek was a major reason for them entering

engineering or the sciences. I personally liked the classics as a boy – H.G. Welles’ War of the

Worlds, the Time Machine, and Julius Verne’s 20,000 Leagues under the Sea. Later in High

School I discovered Isaac Asimov and his book I Robot. That is what convinced me to study

robotics in university - of course having Indian parents pushing you to study all the time helps

very very much.” He laughed as he answered.

“For me it was the Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy that made me interested in mathematics.

The whole concept that one could use advanced mathematics to predict the future of a stellar

empire intrigued me.” Michelle’s mom took a serving spoonful of his father's cheese omelet

placing it on her dish. “Although I too grew up reading H.G. Wells and Julius Verne.”

“Sounds like we all have something in common. Too bad kids today don’t know how to

enjoy books anymore.” Nathaniel’s dad was fixing himself a bagel with cream cheese, lettuce

and slices of smoke salmon.

“I enjoy reading, Dad.” Nathaniel helped himself to some strips of crispy bacon.

“That is true, Nathaniel, something I have always been very proud about you.”

“I love to read too, “said Michelle “I am just not into science fiction like you guys. I love

fantasy; the Oz books, Harry Potter, and ghost stories.”

“I love ghost and horror stories.” Nathaniel’s step-mom whispered to Michelle.

“Although, I love horror movies even more.” Michelle smiled in agreement to Nathaniel’s step-

mom.

“You always say that, yet you are still afraid of ghosts.” Nathaniel’s dad replied

"Nathaniel and I have watched that TV show Ghost Hunters many times, yet still they have

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never found anything that could be proven to be a real ghost. I am still waiting to see a full

bodied spirit float out of the wall and walk up to them and go ‘boo’.”

Michelle's mom and step dad laughed at the idea.

"Everything on those shows could be explained as something else. A door that moves can

be just the wind or the breathing of the wood shifting its weight in the door.” His dad took a bit

out of bagel.

“Very true.” replied Michelle’s step-father.

“And the recording of voices they pick up?” continued Nathaniel’s dad “often sound like

an animal’s cry to me. Even if does sound like a bit like real voice, why don’t they ever think

they are somehow picking up a radio signal, why must it be a ghost? Besides voices are never

really clear to begin with.”

“Just because something can’t be explained it doesn’t mean it’s supernatural” Michelle’s

mother agreed with Nathaniel's dad. “It is the bases of science to always look at everything with

a critical mind, not just assume the answers you want.”

“Very, very, true,” agreed her husband “One cannot bend facts to fit what one wants them

to mean. The scientific method means one must test ones theories and allow the facts to lead you,

not your desired results. To really understand the truth, one must test and retest. It is an endless

journey. These shows try to present themselves as real science, but they are clearly finding what

they want to find, especially when the evidence does not really support their conclusions.”

“I still enjoy watching a scary movie” replied Nathaniel’s step-mom.

“Me too” Michelle support his step-mom.

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Chapter Two - Her

By the time they all finished brunch it was already after two in the afternoon. They had

been talking so much the time had flown by. Nathaniel’s step-mom invited their guests to the

living room where she served them coffee and tea. Nathaniel invited Michelle to his room, her

younger brother stayed with his mom in the living room.

“Your room is much like my brother’s. He got the smaller room too.” Said Michelle “Our

apartment is actually right above yours, I assume all the apartments are basically the same lay

out.”

“I wouldn’t know, since I have only seen this apartment.” Nathaniel opened his bedroom

door for her.

Nathaniel showed her his room, some of his books, his Lego collection, and some of the

transformers he had. Their time together seemed to go by very quickly. They didn’t really do

anything but talk with each other. By late afternoon, close to evening, they both heard the ringing

bell of an ice-cream truck approaching their building.

Their parents gave them some money so they could go out and get some ice-cream for

themselves and for Michelle’s brother. They put on their shoes, Nathaniel lent Michelle one of

his other jackets, the sleeves were a bit long on her. They both ran outside to meet the truck. The

truck had already pulled into the parking lot and stopped, not properly parking, as if he wanted to

leave as quickly as he came. Getting up from the driver’s seat, the driver manned the service

counter of the ice-cream truck. Michelle and Nathaniel were his only two customers. It seemed

strange that he would even come here to sell ice-cream. Before ordering any ice-cream Nathaniel

asked the driver. “How did you know we were here?”

“I didn’t” answered the driver as he filled a bowl with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream “It

was just luck that you are. I came here to offer my respects to her.”

“Her?” questioned Michelle

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“You live here and you haven’t heard about her?” the young ice-cream driver asked

them. His expression turned deeply concerned.

They both shook their heads 'no' to confirm their first reply, yet their faces now

duplicated his expression of concern.

“Surprised they let your families move into this building at all, especially a boy.” The

driver came out the back door with a box and the bowl of ice-cream. He began walking towards

the waterwheel. Near it he placed the box down on the ground, opened the lid, put the bowl of

ice-cream into the box, closed the lid, and latched it.

“What are you doing?” Michelle curiously with Nathaniel had been watching the ice-

cream man.

“It is for her, an offering to her.” He looked up at the top of the waterwheel “Every new

moon, when the night is at its darkest, for the last one-hundred years and fifty years, someone in

the town has left this for her by the waterwheel.” He stood up quickly heading back to his ice-

cream truck.

“Who is ‘her’?” Nathaniel asked him again.

The driver stopped, turned to face them and then looked up at the waterwheel. Fear now

clearly replaced his expression of concern.

“Who are you leaving the ice-cream for?” Michelle felt uneasy as she saw the fear in the

young man’s eyes.

He looked down at them and lowered his voice “It is said she was one of the girls who

worked here. She worked and lived in this building for many years.” He looked up at the

building and paused for a moment. He then looked back down at Nathaniel and Michelle but

speaking at almost a whisper. “The story is that when she was 16 years old she fell in love with a

town's boy that played the pipe organ in the church. They would often secretly meet after her

supper each evening. Finding out about their relationship the owner forbid her to see him ever

again. She disobeyed the owner and sneaked out every night to meet her lover. When the owner

discovered she had been disobeying him he had her stripped bareback and whipped in front of all

the other girls. After that she was locked in single room only large enough for a mattress on the

floor. She was only let out to go to the factory floor to work. The owner feared she would not

only ruin her reputation, but the reputations of all the other girls of the factory.”

“How horrible” Michelle was not only frightened by the story but also angered.

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“It gets worse.” the ice-cream man bent down closer to them as he looked around to be

sure no one else could hear him “After a year of her being locked up every night and not being

able to see her lover, she found out that he met and married another girl in the town. She was so

heartbroken that instead of joining the other girls to go to church one Sunday, she broke off from

the group and went to the waterwheel." With fear in his face he looked up at the wheel as he

imagined what had happened there over a century and half ago. "It was there that she tied a rope

around her neck and tied the other end to one of the spokes of the wooden wheel. When the girls

returned from church that Sunday morning, they found her lifeless body being dunked into the

ice cold river, over and over again, like a teabag by the turning wheel.”

Nathaniel suddenly felt Michelle grab his arm tightly in fear. Much like he and his step-

mother would grab his dad’s arm when watching a scary movie. He was scared too from the

story, but decided to be brave for Michelle.

"How could the boy marry another? Why didn't he wait for her?" Michelle condemned

more than questioned.

"His family." The ice-cream man explained. "It is said his father's farm was in debt. The

owner of the factory offered to pay his debts, if he had the boy married off to another."

"Didn't he love her?" she asked.

The ice-cream man looked down softly to Michelle "Yes. Very much so, but he had to

obey his parents. He was devastated by her death. Even though he did developed a loving family

with his wife, on the anniversary of her death he would go to the church at midnight and play the

pipe organ. It is said, that even to this day, after both their deaths, a century after the church had

been burnt down to the ground, one can still hear that sad and haunting melody from the woods

on the anniversary night of her death."

Michelle felt a strong chill come from the woods across the river. She pulled Nathaniel

tighter to her as if trying to tap into his body heat.

“Why the ice-cream?” Nathaniel asked.

“She likes ice-cream.” He replied as if it was a silly question. “Every new moon someone

has left a bowl of ice-cream in that box. By the next morning the box has been opened and the

ice-cream eaten. Some have said they have seen her eyes glowing in the dark under the moonless

sky, descending from the top of the waterwheel to the box below. They say they have only seen

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her eyes reflecting back at them. As their eyes meet hers they are so struck with fear they run

frightened all the way back to the town.”

“Have you seen her?” asked Nathaniel.

“No. I have been doing this job for a year now. Every new moon I put out the ice-cream

in the box. Every morning I come back, the box is open, and the ice-cream is gone.”

Michelle looked at Nathaniel. “Can we go back inside? I feel too cold for ice-cream

now.”

“You can go ahead. I want to ask the ice-cream man some more questions.”

“No, I want to stay with you.” Oddly when Micelle said that he suddenly felt and realized

he was taller than her.

“What happens if you don’t leave the offering of ice-cream for her?” Nathaniel asked the

ice-cream man who had climbed back into his ice-cream truck.

“One time back after World War One, I think it was 1918, someone forgot to leave the

offering for her.” He stopped speaking for a moment, so he could swallow from his own

nervousness. “Many people in the town died that year.”

The ice-cream man climbed into the driver’s seat. “Wait, one more question.” Nathaniel

called to him.

The ice-cream man turned to him gesturing with his finger a number one “One more

question, it will be dark soon.”

“What can you tell us of the south wing of this building?”

“It is not for boys. Even when the factory was operational, no boys were allowed in the

factory or on the girls dorm floor. Only the girls could work in the factory. The owner at times,

for a commission, would only allow older wealthier men of good 'Christian' character to view the

girls on the factory floor from a special room that over looked them.”

“Why?” asked Michelle

“So they could choose nice young pretty wives for themselves.” He answered “They also

wanted girls that were hard working, virginal, and obedient. The owner supposedly made most of

his money, not from what they made here, but from selling the girls when they reached marrying

age. Parents from all over New England would send their daughters here, knowing that the

owner would keep them pure and innocent until he could find them wealthy husbands. Only the

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prettiest, well behaved girls were permitted to work here. - So no boys or young men were ever

allowed in the south wing or the upper dorm rooms.”

The ice-cream man looked up at the waterwheel and the sky behind it. “It is getting dark,

I need to go. I suggest you both get back inside before it does get dark. It is a cloudy sky, so it

will be very dark tonight.” He started up his ice-cream truck and sped off out of the lot, down the

road, and across the river towards the town on the other side of the woods.

That evening Nathaniel lay in his bed staring at his ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. His

window blinds were closed, but he kept thinking of that ice-cream near the waterwheel for her.

With great courage he rose from his bed and approached his windows. He had already tightly

shut the blinds so he could not see outside, and more importantly, outside could not see inside.

Curiosity though was overpowering his fear. He moved quietly closer to the windows. With his

nose nearly touching the tightly closed blinds he reached up to part the blinds right before his

eyes. Peering between them he peeked towards the waterwheel where the ice-cream would be on

the ground. It was pitch black outside and he could barely make out the silhouette of the

waterwheel against the night sky, then he noticed, at the base of the waterwheel where the ice-

cream would be, two glowing eyes. In great fright he backed away from the windows, picked up

his sleeping bag and pillow and ran to his father’s room.

Banging on the door he begged to come in. His father half asleep opened the door.

“Can I sleep in here with you guys tonight?” he asked his father as he walked passed him,

laid the sleeping bag at the foot of their bed and climbed in.

“Nathaniel, are you still afraid from that movie last night?”

“The place is still very new to him.” His step-mom told his father. “Let him stay with us

tonight.”

“Ok, fine, but this is the last time, Nathaniel, you need to learn to sleep in your own

room. Should have rented a studio apartment, if I knew you didn’t want your own room.” His

father climbed back into bed and fell deeply asleep again.

Nathaniel wished he could just fall asleep like his father, with no fears, but all he could

think of were those two glowing eyes out near the waterwheel. It was going to be a long night; he

was not sure how he was ever going to ever fall asleep, even in the safety of his father’s

bedroom.

16

The morning sun entered his father’s bedroom; Nathaniel could already smell his dad

cooking breakfast in the kitchen. He could also hear his step-mom in the kitchen talking with his

dad.

He didn’t sleep well at all. He still could only think of those glowing eyes, but the

morning at least made him feel less afraid. He got up and brought his sleeping bag and pillow

back into his bedroom. Opening his blinds he let the sunshine into his room. The box was still

there. No sign of anyone with glowing eyes. He quickly dressed when he heard the bell of the

ice-cream truck approaching.

Running outside he heard Michelle call out to him to wait up. He turned around to see her

running up to him in her red riding hood. He felt she was even prettier than yesterday. “Did you

see her last night?” She asked him.

“I saw only a pair of eyes glowing in the dark, you?”

“I saw the eyes too. I was in my brother’s room. From my room you can’t see the

waterwheel. It frightened me so much I had to sleep in my mom’s room all night.” She replied.

Nathaniel decided not to tell her he too was so scared that he slept in his father’s room “I

can understand” was his only answer to her.

The ice-cream man was pulling into the parking lot when they approached the box near

the waterwheel. The lid was open and the ice-cream bowl inside was completely empty. The ice-

cream man approached, bending down he pick up the box. “Empty again.”

“She really did eat the ice-cream.” claimed Michelle.

“She always does” replied the ice-cream man. Before leaving he warned them “Whatever

you do, stay away from the factory floor. She is not the only one to have died in this building.”

Nathaniel and Michelle looked at each other, both wondering who else had died in this

building and how many others.

“You still want to see what is in the south wing?” Nathaniel asked Michelle.

“I am not even sure I want to stay in this building at all anymore.” She replied “Problem

is my parents seem to really love it here, my brother too. He never had his own room before.”

“I think my father likes it here too. It is quite here, perfect for him to work on his books.”

Nathaniel said.

“Perhaps if we tell them what the ice-cream man told us?” suggested Michelle.

17

“You heard my dad at the brunch yesterday. He doesn’t believe in ghosts. He teases my

step-mom and me all the time about our being afraid of ghosts.” answered Nathaniel “Besides,

your parents do not sound like they would be easy to convince either.”

“That’s true.” confirmed Michelle. “Neither one of them believe in the supernatural. I

know my step-dad even teases his parents about their traditional beliefs. Both strongly believe

that science can find a rational answer to everything.”

“But, the ice-cream is gone, just like the ice-cream man said it would be, and I will never

forget those glowing eyes I saw last night. You saw them too.” Nathaniel pointed out.

“Yes, I saw them too.” Michelle looked up at the waterwheel. “I saw them first at the top

of the wheel, and I saw them as they started to come down. After that I ran to my mother’s

bedroom. Perhaps your step-mom will support us?”

“Perhaps, if she thinks there are real ghosts in this building. I know she will pressure my

dad for us to leave, but he can be stubborn. We would need real proof there are spirits in this

building.” Nathaniel turned his attention back to the old factory. “Maybe we can find some more

proof.”

“You want to go into the south wing?” Michelle was clearly frightened by the thought.

“No, but there must be others who know more about this place, we should ask around.

Maybe there is a way we can get more proof without going into the south wing.”

“She won’t come for more ice-cream for another month.” mentioned Michelle. “Perhaps

if our parents could have seen those eyes, like we did.”

“Do you want to stay here for another month until we can show them what we saw?”

“No.”

“So we need find another way to convince them.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement.

18

Chapter Three - The Henderson Orchids

On the other side of their building, across the main road into the town was a small orchid.

The farmers had built a small white building along the road side. There they sold apples,

strawberries, blueberries, pumpkins, apple cider, jams, and even fresh pies. Many of the

townspeople, and even those from other towns, would make the trip just for their farm fresh

products.

Nathaniel and Michelle crossed the street to the small white building with a large sign a

top of it reading 'Henderson’s Orchids' in great big red letters that had clearly weathered over the

years. A few cars were parked outside the building; there was a line of customers to the counter

buying gallons of fresh cider, baskets of fresh fruits, jars of homemade jams, and of course pies.

Behind the counter was a large oven where they baked their famous fruit pies. A teenage girl was

taking out more hot pies, replacing them with pies ready for baking. Her younger sister and

mother worked a large floured worktable making more fruit pies. Her father was feeding fresh

apples into an apple juicing machine, her brother helped fill plastic jugs with fresh apple juice.

The farmers’ three grown sons, daughter-in-laws, and five grandchildren in their late

teens to late twenties worked the farm and operated the store. They were all extremely busy as

more and more customers entered their small shop. As soon as the pies were finished baking they

were sold. Autumn Sundays, Nathaniel and Michelle learned, were their busiest days.

The other brother was over a couple of large pots, filled with water, three types of

chopped up apples, sugar, sliced ginger, cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, nutmeg, all spice, and a

19

little taste of maple syrup. After two hours of simmering over a low heat the covers of the pots

were removed. One of the teenaged grandsons would then use a potato masher to mash up the

softened warmed apples even more so. He would then drain the juicy apple sauce through a

stainless steel strainer, using a ladle, he pressed down on the apple pulp squeezing out every drop

of remaining spiced cider into a large stainless steel pot. The cooked and seasoned apple cider

was then poured into glass gallon jugs and placed in a walk-in refrigerator at the back of the

store. The squeezed apple pulp had the pieces of cooked ginger, whole cloves, and cinnamon

sticks removed from the pulp. The pulp was jarred to be sold as homemade applesauce.

The glass jugs of cider marinated overnight to be sold the next day. Many people would

drink the cider cold, but many others would bring the jugs home, pour the cider into a pot to heat

up over their stoves, or just pour the cider directly into ceramic mugs to be heated up in their

microwaves. Those who were more traditional would stir their warm ciders with cinnamon sticks

to enjoy. A perfect New England drink to cuddle in front of a warm fire with a loved one, as

autumn leaves fall quietly outside.

“Can I help you?” One of the daughter-in-laws asked Nathaniel and Michelle being that

they were the next in line at the sales counter. “Fresh pie, jug of cider?”

“We just moved into the old factory across the street. We were wondering if you could

tell us anything about its past?” Nathaniel's question brought the whole shop to a dead silence.

The shop became so quiet he could hear his own heart beat.

“You live in the old factory?” a woman behind them broke the silence as she held her two

children closer to her.

“Yes.” Michelle answered her, extremely nervous by the response of all the people in the

shop. “I have lived there a week now, Nathaniel moved in this past Friday.”

“Then you were there on the new moon?” a man in his early thirties asked.

Did you see her?” several others collectively spoke out.

“We both saw two glowing eyes outside near the old waterwheel.” Answered Nathaniel

causing everyone in the shop to breath in deeply. They could both feel the fear fill the shop.

“I think you should talk to our dad.” The oldest son suggested. “He can best answer any

questions you both might have.” He called his oldest son to lead them out the back door to the

farmhouse on a small hill that over looked the orchid and the shop. The shop attempted to go

20

back to normal business as Nathaniel and Michelle left the building. Many of the customers

quickly bought what they came for and left even quicker.

“My name is Adam.” The oldest son introduced himself as he walked them to the

farmhouse. A flag pole with an American flag flew in front of the house on the hill. “I think

Nana could have helped you learn more about the factory. Actually it was her great-great-great-

grandfather that first started this orchid. The family has lived near that factory for generations.”

“So, your name is not Henderson?” asked Michelle.

“No, our family name is Miller, our grandfather’s name. You will meet him, but I should

warn you. He is not all there.”

“Not all there?” Nathaniel asked as they climbed the stairs built into the small hill to the

house.

“There was a terrible accident a few years ago. He has not been the same since.”

“Oh, that is terrible.” Michelle said.

Adam reached the front door and knocked three times, paused and then knocked twice.

The door slowly opened and a man in his 70’s peered through the crack. “Is it safe?” The

old man asked.

“Yes, grandpa, it is safe, no monsters, just a little boy and girl that live in the renovated

factory across the main road.” Adam turned to Nathaniel and Michelle. “I will leave you now.

Sundays this time of year are our busiest times.”

As Adam left and headed back to the orchard shop, Nathaniel and Michelle heard a voice

call out from within the house. “Charles, it is ok, let the children in.” Mr. Miller opened the door

wider letting them both in. Standing in the shadows of the living room was Nana Miller, an

attractive and elegant woman in her 60’s “So what are your names?” Nana turned to her

visitors.” Her eyes sparkled full of life and kindness.

“I am Nathaniel, and this is Michelle.”

“So, nice to meet you both, we don’t get visitors often, especially since the accident.

Please have a seat. Would you like some cider, a piece of pie?”

“No...” Michelle began to reply

“Yes please, that would be very nice, thank you.” Nathaniel interrupted.

Nana went to the kitchen to fetch the cider and pie. Charles sat in the big soft chair across

from them. He looked extremely strong and healthy. His chest and arms were of a fit man that

21

clearly had lived an active physical life. His hands and face were strong and leathery from

working outdoors under the sun. “You live in the old factory?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller” answered Nathaniel.

“Have you seen her?” Mr. Miller asked

“We have seen her glowing eyes” said Michelle.

“Well, she is nothing to be afraid of. As long as she gets her ice-cream every new moon”

Mr. Miller assured them “It is the monsters you have to worry about.”

“The monsters?” asked Nathaniel.

“Yes, the monsters. That’s who caused the tractor accident a few years back. They are

very tall with strange heads of green hair. Their bodies and arms are brown, they are covered in

hard rough skin.” explained the grandfather as Nana returned with a tray of cups of apple cider

and plates of pie.

“I hope you like blueberry pie.” Nana placed the tray down on the coffee table and

served her guests and her husband. “Try our cider too, I think you find it very good.”

“Yes, it’s very good.” Michelle and Nathaniel both replied together.

“Mrs. Miller, we were hoping you can help us.” Nathaniel asked in-between bites of his

really delicious blueberry pie. “As you know we moved into the renovated factory across the

main road from you.”

“How can I help you, my dear?”

“They want to know about the monsters!” Mr. Miller replied “Terrible, heartless

creatures, if you cut them they don’t even bleed red blood.”

Nana turned to her husband. “Charles, we talked about this before. There are no

monsters.”

“Damn it, woman, you just need to look out the window! They already have us

surrounded. Big green and brown monsters, wild blowing hair every time the wind blows. Look

at them with their powerful arms reaching out to grab any poor hopeless soul that unfortunately

gets near them.” Mr. Miller stood up and peered out from behind one of the window curtains.

Michelle and Nathaniel looked at each other as they listened to Grandpa Miller.

“Honey, Charles, we have explained many times, they are just trees. They are not

monsters. Please come and sit and enjoy your pie.” Nana patiently spoke to her husband. She

turned to Nathaniel and Michelle “I am sorry for his behavior, every since I was hit by a tree

22

branch while driving the tractor he has been like this. He survived three tours of duty in Vietnam

without a scratch, but it turns out my getting hit by tree branch hurt him the most.”

Charles returned to his chair “Just trees?” he asked his wife.

“Yes, dear, just trees. Not monsters.”

“You sure?” he looked into her eyes, his eyes watering just a bit.

“Yes, Charles. I am sure, they are only trees. Please drink your cider.” Nana Miller turned

her attention to Nathaniel and Michelle once her husband calmed down and began drinking his

cider.

“As you know we moved into the old factory. Yesterday we met the ice-cream man who

left ice-cream for her.” Michelle placed her half empty cup of cider back on the tray.

“Oh, yes, it was a new moon last night.” Nana Miller stated taking a sip of her cider. “Did

you see her?”

“We saw her eyes.” Nathaniel answered, a bit frightened as he remembered the glow.

“We both saw them near the old waterwheel late last night.”

“Many monsters on the other side of the river.” mentioned Grandpa Miller as he looked

cautiously at them.

“Those are woods, Charles.” Nana explained to him.

“Oh, right, woods.” replied Grandpa Miller “Well I told them she is not to be afraid of as

long as she gets her ice-cream every new moon.”

“That is true.” Added Nana Miller “Only back in 1918 we had all those deaths in the

town when they forgot to leave the ice-cream out for her. Of course that was when my

grandfather was only a little boy on this farm. Way before my time. The townspeople after that

never forgot again to leave the ice-cream for her.”

“So, you are saying we have nothing to fear from her?” asked Michelle.

“You don’t. Charles is correct. She …you don’t have to worry about.”

“The monsters are what you have to worry about!” Grandpa Miller stood up suddenly and

went to the windows again. “Look at them, just waiting with their long powerful arms to attack

some innocent person.”

“Charles, please remember they are only trees. I ran into a tree. It wasn’t a monster

sweeping down and trying to grab me.” Nana Miller tried to calm her husband. “Charles, come

back and eat your pie.”

23

“Only trees?” Grandpa Miller settled down looking at the orchid through different eyes.

“They are...They are only trees.”

“Yes, dear, only trees, come sit next to me.” She patted his empty chair with her small

delicate white hand. He returned to his seat. She kissed him gently on the cheek. “Ok now?”

“Yes, I am ok. I am sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She kissed his cheek again. He responded by taking her hand

into his and holding it lovingly. Michelle was moved by the years of love Nana and Grandpa

Miller clearly had for each other. As much as she loved her step-dad she still wished her mother

and father could have had this kind of love for each other, and had never divorced. Nathaniel was

thinking the same thing about his mother and father.

“Mrs. Miller, can you tell us more about the old factory?” asked Michelle.

“Yes, dear, of course I can, Please call me Nana though. You just have to understand that

the factory had been closed for decades even when my grandfather was a little boy. The last time

it was open was when my great-great-grandfather ran this orchid. What I know of the factory are

stories my grandfather told me, which his father told him.” Nana Miller drank some more cider.

“Girls from all over New England wanted to work at that factory. You have to understand

that before the Twentieth Century most Americans were farmers. By the mid eighteen-hundreds

the industrial revolution was really just beginning. The lives of the girls in the factories were

hard compared to today’s standards. Hours were long; twelve hours a day, six days a week.

Accidents happened on the factory floors with those heavy steam or water powered machines.

Compared to today’s salaries the salaries were very low.”

“Damn socialists would tell you how the factory owners exploited the workers!” added

Grandpa Miller. He sat up straight in his chair “Making it sound as if they went out to the farms,

chained people, and dragged them to the factories to work. Baloney! All of it, damn fools have

no idea what they are talking about!”

“But their lives do sound so horrible.” Michelle stated “Such long hours, working so

many days a week.”

“People lined up in those days to work in a factory.” Explained Nana Miller “Charles is

right, they were not forced to work in factories. People, especially young people left the farms

for the cities to get factory jobs. People nowadays do not understand how hard farm life was for

most of human history. On a farm you worked seven days a week, one day off a week was a

24

great improvement. On a farm you didn’t work only twelve hours a day, many times you worked

before the sun came up, and way after the sun went down. Plowing land with only a horse or

mule to help you, weeding by hand, seeding by hand, tending to the livestock, making your own

clothes, your own soap, your own candles, pulling tree stumps with only chains, a strong back,

and a horse, building their own homes with the help of neighbors, helping your neighbors build

theirs, washing clothes by hand, keeping a wood fire burning in your hearth all day and night

every day, baking your own bread, tending to children and babies, building your own furniture. It

was none stop work on a farm. Going to church was one of the few breaks one would get.

Modern people forget how hard farm life really was.”

Grandpa Miller pointed at them with his fork as if to make his point stronger. “In those

days you could be tending your fields for months, everyday of the week, from sunrise to sunset,

and then one day – a cold front comes in and frost destroys months of labor, or too much rain, or

not enough rain, or an insect infestation. All your crops destroyed, all your work, most of your

food, destroyed. At least at a factory one got paid at the end of each week and you could buy

what food there was in the markets. Farming was risky and back braking work. Sitting at a

machine powered by water or steam was easy in comparison.”

“Never realized how difficult it was.” Nathaniel said.

“It was. Nowadays with tractors, washing machines, gas stoves, electric lights, and so

many machines made in factories, all of our lives have become much more comfortable, not just

for farmers.” Nana Miller explained. “It was not just the hard work. Women would have an

average of twelve children in those days, with childhood diseases they were lucky two of their

children would reach adulthood. One out of three women died from child birth. It is the reason

children today are born in hospitals, not that women need a doctor to have a baby, but just in

case something goes wrong to protect the health of the mother. So you can imagine how difficult

life was on a rural farm, many parents hoped their daughters could work in that factory and the

owner would find their daughters wealthy men of good character to marry. With money they

would have a home and servants to do the housework, cooks, gardeners, stable boys, even

nannies to help care for their children.”

“It was almost impossible for girls to go to universities at that time. It wasn’t until 1855

that Bates College in Maine first accepted young women as students. So, for a young girl in the

25

early 19th

century, to get a job in that factory was like earning a scholarship to an Ivy League

school today. Their lives were set.” Mr. Miller mentioned.

“What about love?” Michelle questioned.

“Love?” replied Grandpa Miller. “Love is a very modern concept. Throughout most of

human history a girl belonged to her father until he ‘gave her away’ to a man to marry. The

father chose the husband, not the daughter. You know the story of Romeo and Juliet?”

“Juliet fell in love with Romeo who belonged to a family her family was feuding with.”

Nathaniel answered.

“Yes, but in the beginning of Shakespeare’s play Juliet ‘shall be fourteen; that shall she,

marry’; her father had already chosen ‘the valiant Paris’ for her to wed.”

“He thinks trees are monsters, but he still remembers his Shakespeare.” Nana pinched

Charles’ cheek.

“It wasn’t so much that she fell in love with Romeo, it was also she was disobeying her

father’s choice for who she should marry.” Mr. Miller took a bite of his blueberry pie and

pointed at them again with his pie fork “Even when I was a young man, if you wanted to marry a

girl out of love, it was customary to ask her father for her hand in marriage. If her father said ‘no’

- no marriage! Nowadays young people just do what they please, and tell you later they are

getting married, that is if they even bother to get married at all anymore.”

“Marriage for most of human history was not based on love. It was a contract between

families. It was a way a man could get a wife to give him children and his parents grandchildren.

For her family, they would not try to find a man that she loved, but a man who could support her

and care for her and their grandchildren.” Nana Miller took Charles’ hand in hers. “Michelle, we

are lucky to live in these times that we can choose the men we want based on love. We no longer

have to obey our fathers’ decisions. A modern woman can support herself. She doesn’t need a

man for that. She only needs his love.”

Charles listening to his wife’s words held her hand a little tighter and kissed her gentility

on the lips. “I am the lucky one.” Grandpa Miller looked into Nana Miller’s eyes.

“So if the factory was such a better life than they had working on their parents’ farms,

why does the factory have such a negative history?” asked Nathaniel placing his empty pie plate

and fork down on the coffee table.

26

“The Nineteenth Century was not only the time of the industrial revolution in America

and Europe it was also a time of the romantics; romantic novels, art work, and operas. Young

people moving to the cities were no longer staying on their parents’ farms. Doing as their parents

did, and grandparents did, generation after generation. It was an exciting time to be alive, change

was in the air. For those that embraced the romantics they were in conflict with the traditional

ways of their parents’ thinking. The romantics were even out of step with many of their

contemporaries who still believed that they should without question obey their parents even as

young adults.” Nana Miller placed all the used plates and cups on her tray “Would you like more

pie or cider”

“No. Thank you.” Nathaniel and Michelle both replied. “It was very good.”

Nana Miller smiled as she took the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

“There were other girls that were not happy to be working in that old factory” Mr. Miller

continued. “She was not the only broken heart in that place. Several girls over the years had tried

to run away with boys or young men they had fallen in love with. Mr. Kreeton was never tolerant

of their romantic philosophies. He was a very hard and practical man. He was a man of industry,

a man that considered the bottom line of every one of his decisions.”

Nana Miller returned to the living room and to her seat. “Mr. Kreeton. As a young girl I

hated just the sound of his name. Especially hearing how he would treat those poor young girls.

As I got older and understood things more, I began to understand him and his actions. I never

agreed with his ideas, but I understand from the times he lived in, why he thought the way he

did. I actually feel sorry for him now.”

“You feel sorry for him?” Michelle could not understand.

“My dear, the man had not a romantic bone in his body. Everything was only money and

profit with him. He died in that building. A broken man, he never married, no children of his

own, most of the girls he supervised over the years had learned to despise him. When he died not

a single person attended his funeral. He had lots of money when he died, but never learned to

enjoy it. Yes, my dear, I do feel sorry for old man Kreeton. I am blessed to be in this small warm

home filled with the love of my husband, children, and grandchildren. I would not trade it for all

of old man Kreeton’s millions.”

“Here, here!” Grandpa Miller agreed. “A home filled with love is truly the richest home.”

Nathaniel noticed that Michelle’s eyes were tearing “Are you ok?” he asked.

27

“Yes, I am fine.” She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. “You are both such lovely

people, Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

Nana reached out and gently held one of Michelle’s hands and patted it with her other

hand “So sweet of you to say, my dear child.” Michelle was touched by Nana’s Miller’s warm

and kind reaction, but was a bit surprised how icy cold her hands were.

“So he died in our building?” Nathaniel returned to the topic.

“Yes, he did. After she killed herself on that waterwheel, something in him went terribly

wrong. One would think her actions would have softened his heart, but instead it made him

worse. He became paranoid that many of his girls had secret lovers. He began punishing more

and more of them.”

“This all happened decades before Sigmund Freud wrote his theories of psychology and

the subconscious.” Grandpa Miller explained to them. “My guess is he was resentful that he was

surrounded by all those attractive young women, but he would never know love from any of

them. His greed for money was so intense he had to keep them all pure to marry off. Yet,

subconsciously he must have still been a man with normal needs for love and female

companionship. He acted more and more like an insanely jealous lover with all his girls than

their employer. He was always accusing them of being unfaithful and having secret lovers even

though he never gave them any opportunities to contact any young men. Part of his paranoia was

his fear of losing money if the girls did have lovers, but I’m convinced he was also jealous he

would never experience love for himself.”

“Sour grapes?” asked Nathaniel

Nana's face clearly showing sympathy for what the girls had suffered. “Perhaps, but it

was much more than that. The stories go that he began to enjoy punishing the girls. He would no

longer whip them, since it would damage the prices he could get for the girls when he would

marry them off. He would think of other ways to make the girls suffer without causing any

physical harm to their appearances. For example he would force them to stand on a stool holding

a bucket of water over their heads for long periods of time, or shaving their heads in front of the

other girls.”

“Hair can always grow back.” Grandpa Miller pointed out. “So he could still marry them

off later when he wanted to.”

28

Nana continued “The worse was he began locking the girls into their dorm rooms each

night. He even had bars placed on their windows. It all came to ahead when on the top floor of

the building, during the night, a lantern was accidently knocked over and set one of the beds on

fire. The fire spread quickly and by the time they were able to open the door to the top floor

twenty girls were already dead. The others were badly burnt and scarred for life.”

“How awful!” Michelle replied “That would be the floor above my apartment.”

“Stories are that some nights their screams for help can still be heard, along with their

banging on their locked door.” Nana Miller added. “After that fire, the stories finally came out

how the girls had been treated. No parents were willing to allow their daughters to work there

anymore. The factory closed its doors forever and old man Kreeton went down to the factory

floor one last time. Either he slipped or threw himself into the turning gears of the waterwheel

that powered all his now silent machines. It is said that it was his bones that jammed the

waterwheel to its final stop.”

“What did they make in the factory?” Nathaniel asked.

Grandpa and Nana looked at each other and then back to Nathaniel. “We don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Michelle responded surprised.

“Yes. I know it sounds strange, after all these years of hearing the stories of that factory,

the poor girls, and old man Kreeton, I have never met anyone who knew what they made in the

factory.” Nana Miller answered.

“You have to understand.” Grandpa Miller replied. “No one has had the courage to go

into the south wing to find out and all those that would have known what they manufactured

have been dead for over a hundred years. The stories are that Mr. Kreeton’s spirit is still roaming

the factory floor. Even the workers when they renovated your building refused to enter the south

wing. That is why there are no apartments on that side. The top floor of the building, where the

fire happened has also not been renovated. You would think grown construction workers

wouldn’t be afraid of ghost stories. Perhaps you noticed that the bars are still on those top floor

windows.”

Michelle grabbed Nathaniel’s arm again, holding it tightly as she thought of the girls

dying on the floor above her bedroom and the ghost of old man Kreeton roaming the south wing.

Nathaniel wanted even more so for his father to agree to move out of the building. “Do you think

we are in any danger?” Michelle asked the Millers.

29

“Oh no, my child.” smiled Nana Miller “As long as she gets her ice-cream each new

moon none of us have anything to fear. As for the upper level and the south wing, as long as you

leave them alone they are not known to harm anyone, at worse just noises in the night.”

“Just stay out of those parts of your building and away from the monsters across the

river!” Grandpa Miller returned to his fear of trees.

"The ice-cream man told us of the organ music from the woods." Michelle replied to

Grandpa Miller's fear of the woods.

"Handel's Sarabande. Always brings a tear to my eyes when I hear it." responded

Grandpa Miller as if he was listening to the early eighteen century piece of music. "One of

Handel's best works."

"Sa-rab-and?" Nathaniel tried to say it.

"It's pronounced Sara-band. It is was a slow Spanish dance from the sixteenth century.

Handel's version was 1733."

With a proud smile Nana looked at Michelle. "Isn't he amazing. It is like living with a

talking encyclopedia."

Michelle smiled back at Nana Miller in agreement.

"I never heard of it." Nathaniel answered.

"You should." Grandpa Miller got up and walked over to their stereo with a CD player

and an old fashion record turntable. Mr. Miller flipped through his collection of vinyl records

and finally pulled up the soundtrack from the Kubrick film Barry Lyndon. "Great movie."

Grandpa Miller mumbled to himself as he took the record out of the cardboard album sleeve and

placed it on the turntable. He found the position for the piece and gently rested the needle upon

the spinning record. After a few short scratches the slow somber orchestrated music began to

play as Grandpa Miller stood there silently looking towards Nana, yet seeming to be looking

through her, not at her.

Violins played sadly along with a harpsichord, when the kettle drums joined in Nathaniel

felt goose pimples travel up his arms. He could see Grandpa Miller's eyes begin to tear as the

music continued. The piece ended in only four minutes, but Nathaniel had never felt more moved

from listening to any other piece of music before. "He played this after her death?" holding back

his own eyes from watering. Michelle looked at Nathaniel knowing he was feeling what she was

feeling.

30

"Yes, every November 7th, on the anniversary of her death." Nana Miller answered

walking up to Mr. Miller and giving him a hug. "He never failed to return to the church each year

to play Handel's Sarabande. To remember her and his lose."

"He had one hell of an understanding wife." Grandpa Miller added. "She knew why he

did it, but she let him anyway."

"Even after his death, every night on November 7th one can still hear him play?"

Michelle voiced in fear.

"That is what they say." Grandpa Miller returned to his chair. "Even after the church

burnt down you can still hear him playing for her every year on that night. Of course a lone

church pipe organ cannot do justice to the piece as a full orchestra."

31

Chapter Four - Flaming Windows

Walking back home they noticed for the first time that the third floor windows did have

bars on them as Nana had mentioned. The third floor window were extremely old and most were

broken. The renovated floors had modern thermo windows with bug screens. There were no bars

on the windows of the other floors. Only the third floor had the rusted iron bars, looking like a an

abandoned prison block.

As they crossed the main road the sun was already setting behind Nathaniel and Michelle

elongating their shadows before them. The sun slowly sank further and further behind the

western hills. A darker shadow moved its way up the old stone walls of their building. Twenty

yards from the main entrance of the building the shadow had already reached half way up the

third story windows. Walking closer and closer to the building Nathaniel and Michelle both had

their eyes affixed to the third level windows that were darkening as the shadow rose up them.

Only Fifteen yards from the building Michelle grabbed hold of Nathaniel’s right arm with both

of her hands for security. She pulled herself closer to him, hoping he could somehow protect her

from her fears. Her eyes though never left the broken window panes on the third level. She could

see clearly the texture of the rusty iron bars that would imprison anyone on that upper level.

Suddenly only ten yards from the building she saw something that frightened her so much she

buried her face into Nathaniel’s shoulder and bringing them to a dead stop.

32

“You ok?” Nathaniel asked feeling her grip tightening around his arm to the point of her

actually inflicting pain. Her face pushed deeper and deeper into his shoulder. He could not get

her to move any closer to the building; it was almost as if she shot roots from the bottoms of her

feet, through her shoes, and deep into the ground. Nathaniel tried to use his other hand under her

chin to gentility raise her eyes to his. She instead buried her face even deeper into his chest and

wrapped her squeezing arms even tighter around him.

Baring the pain of her grip on him he asked her calmly “Did you see something?” She

nodded her head 'yes' against his chest. Nathaniel with great courage on his part looked back up

to the third floor windows that were now completely engulfed in the shadow of the approaching

twilight. He could not see anything out of the ordinary when he heard Michelle’s mother calling

them from one of the second story windows.

“There you two are!” Michelle’s mom called out “We are all going out for dinner tonight.

Meet us at the cars in the lot. We will be downstairs soon.” Nathaniel at that point noticed his

dad and step-mom exiting the main entrance of the building.

“Michelle, whatever you saw it is ok now. There is nothing there now, and my folks are

with us now.” He tried to reassure her.

His dad and step-mom walked up to them noticing Michelle tightly hugging Nathaniel.

“Well aren’t we the two love birds.” teased his father.

Nathaniel looked at his dad “Something frightened her, but she is ok now.”

“Did you see the girl with the long black hair?” His father joked.

Hearing that his parents were with them now Michelle loosened her grip around him

enough that he could feel the blood rushing back into his arm and hand. His whole right arm was

numb from her squeezing it so hard. He stretched and wiggled his fingers to get life back into

them. He could only wonder what she saw that frightened her so much. Nathaniel looked down

at her and could see she was still scared. “What did you see?”

She raised her head and looked at him, she was clearly not ready to talk. It worried him

greatly how frightened she looked. Interestingly, as worried he was about what she might have

seen, it bothered him more to see her so upset. He did not want her to be scared. He was actually

feeling a bit angry that someone or something would scare her so much. His wanting to protect

her was overcoming his own personal fears.

33

In the car, their parents took them across the bridge and through the small woods to the

town. The town was very much a New England town and the people of the town wanted to keep

it that way. Only small family owned shops and stores were allowed in the business section.

There were no chain restaurants, no large department, or discount stores allowed in the town. It

was almost as if they drove into a Norman Rockwell painting. The town had a very homey

feeling to it, with brick paved sidewalks, trees lined lanes, and a small park with a gazebo in the

center.

People walked about in the early evening on the sidewalks and in the park, even though

most of the shops were already closed being that it was a Sunday. At this time only the town’s

four restaurants were open; a French restaurant, a Chinese restaurant, an Italian restaurant, and

an American style steak house. On the other side of the town on the main road that cut through

the small town was a roadside diner that was actually very popular with the local police,

teenagers of the town, and the few truckers that would pass this way.

“Welcome, monsieurs, dame féminins.” The waiter showed them to a large round table to

be seated. A white table cloth was draped over the table. “Vos Menus” He handed out menus to

everyone accept Michelle’s little brother. “Comment est-ce que je peux vous server?”

“Mommy, what’d he say?” asked Michelle’s little brother.

“It is French for 'How may I serve you.'”

“Ah! Vous Parlez Francais!”

“Yes, I speak a little French.” Michelle’s mother answered.

At that moment a balding Chinese man in a three piece suit walked up to their table and

started shouting in Chinese at their waiter.”Ne neow-zi yo bing! Wo-men bo sher Fa-gwa-ren,

Wo-men sher Jong-gwa-ren!”

Everyone at the table turned to Nathaniel’s step-mom for translation. “He told him he is

sick in the head and that they are not French, they are Chinese.”

The older Chinese man turned to his guests speaking in a heavy Chinese accent “I am

very sorry. My son is sick in the head at times. He wants to be French. Please don’t think we are

not good Chinese restaurant. You will find our Chinese food here very good, number one in

whole state.”

“Pa-pa, don’t be angry with me.” His son begged his father.

34

“Pa-pa? Wa bo sher ni pa-pa, Wa sher ni ba-ba. Boo yeow wang-la ni sher Jong-gwa-

ren. Jay ga sher Jong-gwa fan-gwan, bo sher Fa-gwa fan-gwan!” The father scolded his son in

Chinese again waving a finger in his son’s face.

“He said ‘I am not your pa-pa, I am your ba-ba (which is Chinese for father). He also

told him not to forget that he is Chinese, that this is a Chinese restaurant not a French restaurant.”

She translated again for everyone at the table.

The waiter’s father stormed off pulling at his hair in frustration.

“No wonder he is getting bald” stated Nathaniel.

“I am so sorry.” The waiter apologized. “I guess I am just a Francophile. I just love

everything French. It is such a romantic language and culture. My father is very traditional, he

just doesn’t understand.”

“Why not get a job at the French restaurant across the street?” Nathaniel’s Dad asked.

“That would really kill my father. I could not live with the guilt.” The waiter replied.

“There is nothing wrong with being interested in different languages and cultures. I think

it is admirable.” Nathaniel’s step-mom replied.

“Can you give us a moment to read the menu?” asked Michelle’s mom.

“Yes of course.” The waiter went to check on his other tables.

When they finally decided what they wanted they called back the owner’s son so

Michelle’s mother could place their order - in French. He was so delighted to converse in French

with someone, that he promised he was going to bring them something very special from the

kitchen.

As they waited for their food, the adults talked and Nathaniel turned to Michelle who sat

between him and her little brother. “Do you feel up to talking now?”

“I never saw anything so frightening, Nathaniel. I really do not want to return to our

building.” She replied.

He was almost too afraid to ask her, but his need to know what she saw in those upper

windows was too strong “You can tell me. Michelle, what did you see?”

“Hands.”

“Hands?”

She was looking right at him when she told him, but her eyes were not looking at him. He

felt as if she was looking through him at something miles away “Yes, just for a moment I could

35

see hands, some pressed against the glass of the unbroken windows, some reaching out and

wrapped around the old iron bars.”

“Perhaps we should tell our parents.” Nathaniel replied.

Her eyes then focused on him and nodded in agreement.

“Please don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” A small smile emerged

on her face; her eyes softened just a bit as she looked at him.

The waiter then returned with their food, as he placed each dish on the lazy Susie on the

center of the round table he introduced each dish in Chinese, French, and English. The last dish

though did not have a Chinese name. “The final dish is canard a’ l’orange; duck in orange

sauce. It is French style not Chinese. I cooked it myself especially for your enjoyment. Bon

Appetite!”

Near the end of their meal, Nathaniel decided to tell their parents what they had learned

from the Ice-cream man and the Millers. Their parents listened carefully to the stories of her, the

girls of the old factory, the fire on third floor of the building, and of old Mr. Kreeton the owner

of the factory.

“You are saying that in 1918 many people in the town died, just because they forgot to

put out ice-cream on one of the new moons for the ghost of a teenage girl, who hung herself on

the old waterwheel?” Nathaniel’s father repeated checking to see if he had gotten their story

correct.

“Yes.” Michelle finally spoke up in support of the stories Nathaniel told them.

Nathaniel’s dad calmly and gently replied to the two of them. “1918 was the year of the

Spanish flu.”

“The Spanish flu?” Nathaniel, Michelle, Nathaniel’s step-mom, and Michelle’s step dad

questioned.

“I think I have heard of that before. It was a pandemic.” Michelle’s mom answered

“A pandemic?” Michelle and Nathaniel still did not understand.

“Yes, a pandemic.” Nathaniel’s father answered. “It means a serious sickness that spreads

all over the world. The Spanish flu was a pandemic in 1918 right after World War One. There

weren’t just many people dying in this town that year; over hundreds of thousands of Americans

all across the country died from in 1918. Over 600,000 in America alone. If I remember

correctly. It has been estimated that up to 40-50 million people around the world died from the

36

Spanish flu in just one year, more than were killed over four years of fighting during World War

One.”

“So you are saying that their forgetting to leave the ice-cream for her didn’t cause all the

deaths in the town that year?” asked Nathaniel.

“That is what I am saying. Ice-cream or not, people were going to die that year. The

Spanish flu was extremely deadly. A virus, before modern medicine, killed those people, not the

ghost of a love-lost teenage girl.”

“Michelle, how do you feel about that girl killing herself because she was heartbroken?”

Her mother was concerned how the story might affect her daughter.

“Although I never been in love myself, I think she was silly to kill herself over a boy who

could marry another so quickly, just because his parents told him too. If he really loved her he

would have refused and waited for her.” Michelle answered. “She was still young with her whole

life ahead of her. She would have found another love, perhaps an even better love.”

“I couldn’t have given a better answer.” Her mother replied.

“That is a very wise answer.” Nathaniel’s step-mom agreed with Michelle.

Michelle shyly blushed from their praise.

Not interested in the love broken girl of over 150 years ago Nathaniel questioned the

grownups. “What about her glowing eyes? We both saw them.”

“A raccoon." his father answered as he took some fried noodles with his chopsticks from

his plate. "I would guess that before I would think a ghost ate the ice-cream. Most likely it was

the eyes of a raccoon you both saw last night. They are nocturnal animals, meaning they can see

very well at night. They are also very clever. A raccoon would have no problem opening that box

you described to us.”

“A raccoon can’t live for over 100 years.” Nathaniel pointed out.

“True," His Dad first swallowed his fried noodles "but would it not be a more reasonable

explanation that a raccoon family, generation after generation, has learned to go for that ice-

cream the townspeople leave out there every month?” Nathaniel’s Dad asked.

“I would think so.” Michelle’s step-dad said in support.

“But what of the hands I saw on the third floor windows?” Michelle questioned.

37

“Think about it, broken windows in the twilight, and a young intelligent girl's

imagination, especially after listening to ghost stories? Are you really sure you saw what you

think your saw?” Michelle’s mother suggested to her.

Michelle took a moment to think. “No, I am not really sure; it was so quick when I saw

it.”

“The mind is amazing machine.” Michelle’s step-dad stated. “The things our minds do

that we think are so simple are actually very, very complex. For example taking in so much

visual, audio, and tectonic information, and calculating those electronic signals into sight,

hearing, and touch. In robotics these are the things we find most difficult to teach our robots to

do. The things our human biological brains do automatically everyday without even a second

thought.”

Nathaniel thought about what their parents were saying. Their explanations did make

much more sense than ghosts roaming around. He started to feel a bit silly for taking the stories

so seriously. The glowing eyes he did see could have been the reflecting light from that of

nocturnal animal’s eyes. He had seen that kind of glow many times before from cats he has seen

in the night. A raccoon is of course bigger than a house cat. Although he knows Michelle was

very frightened by the hands on the windows she says she saw. He did not share her experience.

When he had looked up at the windows he did not see anything strange. Could she have just let

her imagination get the better of her?

Nathaniel began to consider what his father was saying was true. Could it be that simple?

Was he and Michelle merely scaring themselves with ghost stories, like he and his step-mom

often do with scary movies? Could it be that the ghost of the waterwheel is only a raccoon, much

like Grandpa Miller’s monsters are merely trees? Nathaniel’s fears began to melt away realizing

how much he had let his own imagination run wild. His curiosity was again getting the better of

him. He wanted to know what they had made in that old factory. The only way he could find out

was he would need to enter the south wing and the factory floor. He was sure now that the ghost

of Mr. Kreeton was also nothing more than old tales made up from people’s imaginary fears.

Fears enhanced over the generations. As brave as he was now feeling, he still did not want to go

to south wing alone. He was not sure though that Michelle was convinced as much as he was by

their parents that all these ghost stories can be rationally explained away.

38

At school the next day, Nathaniel saw Michelle during their lunch break. One thing he

did like about his new home was his school. The school he was in before, when he lived with his

mother in New York City was like a day prison. The teachers spent half their time disciplining

the students. They spent very little time actually teaching. Everywhere they went they had to be

supervised by a teacher. Lined up and escorted to the lunch room, like prison gangs. The only

thing missing, Nathaniel thought, was the leg irons chaining him to his fellow classmates so none

of them could escape.

The town's school was very different. The kids paid attention in classes and questioned

the teachers, whom seemed clearly happy to answer their questions. When lunch time or recess

did come, the students were allowed to leave the classrooms on their own. During lunch some

students even went to the local pizza parlor for slices of pizza or to the corner grocery store to

get sandwiches. Nathan learned in this town they called the sandwiches 'grinders'. Back in New

York, they would be called 'heroes' or 'subs'. Some of the children that lived closets to the school

would even walk home for their lunch break. Nathaniel really appreciated the sense of freedom

and respect his new school treated him and his fellow classmates.

“How are you today?” Nathaniel sat down at Michelle’s table.

“Is this your boyfriend?” One of the girls at the table teased Michelle, the other girls

giggled.

“We are friends.” Michelle replied not showing any sign at all of being bothered by the

girl’s teasing.

“Well I think he's cute.” A girl with thick glasses at the other end of the table replied.

Nathaniel noticed that the girls hair looked un-brushed, as if she had just gotten out of bed.

“Thank you for thinking so.” Nathaniel politely replied causing the girl to shyly smile

revealing her braces, the other girls at the table, including Michelle, giggled loudly.

“Perhaps we can talk later. I think Margret would like to get to know you better.”

Michelle looked at him and smiled.

"We can walk home together after school. We can talk then.” Nathaniel got up and to

return back to the table of boys he was sitting at, but before leaving he looked across to girl with

“It was nice meeting you, Margret.” She turned even redder as she batted her eyes at Nathaniel.

All the girls at the table to burst out laughing, except for Michelle.

39

The woods were not that deep between the town and the river. Luckily for them the

school was on the western side of the town, closer for them to walk home. It was a brisk autumn

day. The sun was ahead of them and was above the multi-colored leaves of fall. Some of the

leaves had already started falling. The road back home and surrounding woods had a scattering

of dry golden, yellow, and reddish leaves. The leaves under their feet would crackle as they got

closer and closer to the small rushing river. Michelle and Nathaniel both silently thought to

themselves how much they were enjoying their walk home together.

“I am thinking I want to go to the south wing. That is if you go with me.” Nathaniel

broke the silence as he kicked a pile of leaves before him.

“You’re not scared?” she asked him, a bit surprised by his idea.

“I really want to know what they made in the factory.”

“I do too, but I am not completely convinced that there aren’t any ghosts in that

building.” Michelle was clearly still more afraid than curious “I know perhaps it was my

imagination that I saw those hands on the window panes and reaching out grabbing those rusting

iron bars. Yet the image is still too clear in my head to be completely convinced it was only my

imagination.”

“Is there any chance it could have been something else?” asked Nathaniel “To be honest

with you, I didn’t see anything. If there was something really there, shouldn’t I have seen it too?”

“Yes, I guess so.” She had to agree.

"So, what other way can we find out what they made? The only way I can see us finding

out is by going onto the actually factory floor."

"Why not the library?" she answered "The town library might have records of what they

made?"

Even though his curiosity was much stronger than his fear of the South wing, he was still

relieved that Michelle thought of a way they could avoid entering the old factory wing. "That's a

great idea. They must have information on the factory and old man Kreeton. It's an idea my dad

would have suggested. I'm surprised I didn't think of it."

Michelle smiled, pleased with herself that she had thought of it before he or his dad did.

"I am known to come up with good ideas from time to time."

"You are clearly not just a pretty face."

40

"You think I'm pretty?" she was now blushing like Margret did during lunch.

Nathaniel looked at her in disbelief "As if you don't know how pretty you are."

Feeling a bit awkward with the direction the conversation was heading she changed the

subject. "Race you to the bridge." Michelle took off running towards the bridge, Nathaniel took

off after her.

Both panting heavily, Michelle reached the bridge only a split second behind Nathaniel.

"You are fast too." he put his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Having reached the two lane bridge, that crossed the small river, they could clearly see

the old factory on the other side of the river. The old waterwheel was still held tightly in place by

the green vines that climbed and twisted themselves around the wheel's spokes and paddles.

Tired from their sprint they decided to leisurely walk the rest of the way home. As they crossed

the small river Nathaniel looked down at the water below them. There was something very

inviting about the river. For such a small river it actually seemed deep, when suddenly a river

trout broke the surface to munch on an insect that had flown too close to the surface.

“That was awesome.” Nathaniel responded.

“What was awesome?” asked Michelle stopping to look into the river too.

“A river trout jumped out of the water and caught a fly.” Nathaniel explained

“I heard the splash, I thought you threw a pebble into the river.” She answered

“It seems to be a good river to go fishing.” Nathaniel looked down hoping to catch a

glimpse of another fish. "There!" he pointed at another trout just under the shadow of the bridge.

“Do you like to go fishing?”

“I have never tried. Isn’t it boring?” Michelle looked to see the trout he was pointing out.

The fish was swimming just enough against the current to keep its position in the shade.

“No, not at all, especially if you catch a fish. Until you do catch a fish it is very peaceful

and relaxing. This river is clearly stocked with fish, surprised more of the townspeople do not

come here to go fishing.” Nathaniel started to head across the bridge to head back to their

building.

On the other side of the river they made their way along side the opposite bank of the

river near the small parking lot in the back. Getting closer to the factory Michelle stopped and

looked at the tall red waterwheel just before them. “Perhaps they are too afraid to come here to

fish.”

41

"Perhaps." Nathaniel also looked up at the waterwheel. For just a moment he thought he

could see the wheel struggle slightly against the vines, as if it were testing the hold nature had

placed upon it.

They turned away from the factory heading for the rear entrance of their wing. On the

opposite side of the building the sun was low in the sky. The Eastern side of the building was not

only in shadows it cast a long shadow across the small parking lot and walkway all the way to

the river. Michelle once again glanced up to the third floor windows and screamed out “No!” She

again buried her face into Nathaniel’s chest.

“The hands? You saw the hands again?” he asked her.

“No. Can’t you see the fire? The third floor is on fire!” she answered

Nathaniel looked up and he too saw it, but as he looked more closely he realized that the

third floor was not actually on fire. It was an optical illusion. The sun was just at the right height

in the sky that it was shining through the western windows. He realized that the third floor must

have been completely gutted out, for the sun light was striking the broken and cracked old

window panes on the eastern side of the building. The rust on the iron bars, the irregular broken

glass windows, and the sun were all in just the right position to create a perfect illusion of fire.

“Look again, Michelle. It is just the sun on the other side of the building shining through

the third floor. It is not really on fire.” He explained to her.

Michelle looked back up to the third floor windows, taking the time to look more closely

she too could see that it was just the sunshine passing through the building and oddly striking the

old broken glass widows and rusty bars. “It looked so real at first.” She calmed down realizing

that she had clearly let her imagination get the better of her.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, when I first looked up, I too thought the floor was a flame.

Pretty cool effect.” They both laughed a little knowing that they had clearly scared themselves

over nothing.

That evening over dinner with his dad and step-mom, Nathaniel told them about how the

sun shining through the western windows of the third floor made the broken windows on the

eastern wall look like a fire.

42

“I'm proud of you that you took the time to really examine it and realize it was just an

optical illusion.” His father was clearly pleased how Nathaniel handled the situation. “Just shows

you that things are very often not as we first think they are.”

“I wasn’t interested in your father at all when I first met him.” His step-mom picked up

some sweet and sour pork with her chopsticks. “It was only after looking at him more deeply that

I became attracted to him.”

“Thank you…I think.” His father expressed confusion, not sure if he had just been

complimented or insulted by his lovely wife.

"You're welcome." She looked at her husband and smiled before placing her chopsticks

in her mouth.

Nathaniel's Dad turned his attention back to his son. “I am sure if you want to, we can

prove to the town that the ice-cream eating ghost and glowing eyes are just a raccoon.”

“How?” Nathaniel asked very interested.

“We can recreate the experiment under a controlled and monitored situation. It would

cost a little to do it, but I think I have most of the materials to make it happen.” His father

explained further “We can recreate the box you said the ice-cream man used. Place ice-cream in

it of course. Place it near the waterwheel where they always do. Place a camera on a tripod with

a motion detector to the lid of the box. If a raccoon or a ghost comes and opens the lid for the

ice-cream we can, in a flash, take their picture in the act.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Nathaniel replied “When can we do it.”

“Why not tomorrow night?” I think I can make the box tomorrow. We can set everything

up tomorrow night.” His father answered. “I don’t think a raccoon will care if it is the zenith of

the new moon or not, as long as he or she is getting their ice-cream.”

“This is why I fell in love with your father.” His step-mom pointed to Nathaniel with her

chopsticks still in hand. “I found out that at first glance he wasn’t a very handsome man, and was

clearly not a wealthy man, but looking at him more closely I discovered he was at least a very

clever man.”

“Thanks again…I think.” His father replied to his step-mom.

“You are also a good man, kind, loving, and helpful. Your ex cared too much about

money, never saw your true value like I do.” She kissed her husband on one of his cheeks.

“And you're a great dad.” Nathaniel added.

43

“Well thank you both. Nice to know I am appreciated.”

Nathaniel felt great that his father was getting involved with his and Michelle’s search for

the truth about the old factory. He asked if he could go up to Michelle’s apartment to tell her

their plan. His father asked him to first finish up his dinner, help him clear the table, and he could

go up stairs.

It wasn’t long before he was on the second floor and knocking on Michelle’s apartment

door. Her little brother shouted through the door. “Who is it?”

“It is Nathaniel; may I please see your sister.” Nathaniel replied. No one opened the door.

He could hear her brother walk away from the door and a TV was playing in the apartment. After

waiting and still no reply he knocked again.

“Who is it?” Her brother again asked.

“It is Nathaniel from downstairs, may I please speak to Michelle.” He repeated himself.

Again no reply. This time he banged harder on the door to be sure that he would be heard over

the sound of the TV.

“Who is it?” her brother again answered.

Frustrated he yelled “It's Nathaniel…”

The door then opened, Michelle stood on the other side laughing.“Don’t blow a gasket,

Nathaniel.”

“How long where you there?” He asked her walking in as she opened the door wider.

“Since the first time you knocked on the door, I was curious to see how badly you wanted

to see me.” She gave him a slight smile. “I thought you might be too madly in love with Margret

now.”

“Ha, ha.” Nathaniel gave a phony laugh. “You seem to be in a much better mood?”

“Yes, thanks to you.” She replied walking him to the dining room table to sit down. She

went into the kitchen and brought them both back a glass of grape juice with ice.

“Thanks to me?” he questioned her.

“Yes, thanks to you.” She sat across from him at the table. “You made me look at the

third floor again to see it really was only my imagination. I am not so afraid now. I'm also

starting to think that your dad’s theory about the eyes we saw that night being most likely a

44

raccoons, and his explanation of the Spanish flu pandemic happening to be in 1918. All of it has

helped me realize that there must be reasonable explanations to these things.”

“I think he is right too. People often see what they want to see. We need to learn to be

more critical in our thinking.” Nathaniel took a drink of his grape juice.

Michelle began laughing.

“What so funny?” He was confused by her sudden outbreak.

“You have a purple mustache.” She handed him a paper napkin.

“Thank you.” He wiped his mouth seeing the purple stain of grape juice on the paper

napkin.

Michelle placed one of the two straws she brought from the kitchen into her drink to take

a sip of her juice. She handed the other straw to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel placed the straw into his drink, this time taking a sip of the ice cold grape juice

“better?” he looked to her.

Michelle smiled “Yes, much better. Although the mustache did make you look more

mature. I am sure Margret would have loved it.”

“Ha, ha.”

Nathaniel then told Michelle about his father’s idea to catch the ice-cream eater on film.

She thought was a wonderful idea.

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Chapter Five - The Experiment

Excited about his father's experiment Nathaniel and Michelle decided to put off going to

the library another day. Instead they headed straight home after school. By the time they returned

his father had just finished making the box to put the ice-cream in.

“Is this right?” His father showed them box. They both looked at the box and both agreed

it was very much like the box the ice-cream man had used that night. Nathaniel asked if Michelle

could stay for dinner. His father said she was more than welcome to, that is if she liked sushi and

sashimi. His father had promised Nathaniel's step-mom he would make Japanese that night.

Nathaniel and Michelle offered to help his dad prepare the rice with sugar and vinegar, cut the

fresh tuna, salmon, and cucumbers. They then took turns laying the cooked rice onto bamboo

mats that could be rolled up. Before rolling the mats they placed a sheet of dried seaweed,

cucumber spears, and the thin slices of tuna or salmon. They then rolled it all up pressing it hard

to make it all stick together. The rice rolls were then rolled in caviar and cut into bit size

beautiful round and colorful pieces of sushi. The sashimi was much easier to make, it was just

thin slices of left of tuna and salmon. All were served with small sauce bowls of wasabi mixed

with soy sauce. Michelle for her second time tried to use chopsticks to eat.

"You sure you don't want a fork?" Nathaniel step-mom asked.

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"No thank you." Michelle tried again to pick up a piece of raw salmon. "I will never learn

how to use chop sticks if I don't keep trying."

Nathaniel's dad smiled as he picked up a sushi roll. "That is a very good attitude,

Michelle."

"Thank you." she was finally getting the knack of it and picked up her first slice of

sashimi, dipped it into the wasabi soy sauce, and to her mouth, without dropping it.

They all gave her cheer of congratulations. She smiled and decided to attempt a piece of

sushi for her encore.

After dinner they all went out to the back of the building and set up the box with the ice-

cream and the camera. They were joined by Michelle's mother, step-dad, and younger brother.

“I am sure it will be a raccoon you capture tonight.” Michelle’s step-dad said.

“Don’t be surprised if it is a ghost of an early nineteenth century teenage girl.”

Nathaniel’s step-mom replied. “Like you said before; when conducting a scientific experiment

you don’t want to make pre-conclusions.”

“I am not making a pre-conclusion. I am making a hypothesis based on an educated

guess. I am open that it may not be a raccoon. Although not convinced it will be the spirit of a

poor girl. It could be a possum, or even a house cat.” Michelle’s step-dad answered.

“I would first believe it is some half naked homeless man who comes to eat the ice-

cream, before I would think it is a ghost that does not even have a digestive system.” said

Nathaniel’s dad as he set up the camera on a low tripod.

"If that was the case, wouldn't he also take the camera, not just the ice-cream?" asked

Nathaniel.

"Good point." his father acknowledged.

“Even a space alien would make more sense than a ghost, since they would at least be

biological and would need to eat.” Michelle’s mom hypothesized.

“Or perhaps it’s a wandering obese woman who is addicted to ice-cream.” Nathaniel

suggested.

They all laughed at their guesses.

It was already dark when Nathaniel finished helping his father with the whole setup. The

box was right near the waterwheel and Michelle placed a bowl of vanilla ice-cream in the box

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and latched it. Her brother was upset wanting to eat the ice-cream himself. His mother was firm

that he already had ice-cream for dessert after they had dinner and it was not for him. Seeing that

he was not going to sway his mother for ice-cream her brother stopped his whining as quickly as

he had started. Nathaniel felt it was almost like her little brother had a on/off switch for crying.

With the ice-cream safely in the box Nathaniel’s father placed a trigger on the lid.

Whomever or whatever opened the box would trigger the camera and have their picture taken in

the act.

“We should go inside. If it is a raccoon, he or she will not come for the ice-cream with us

standing around here. As for the ghost, I am not sure if our being her would scare her away or

not. But, to be on the safe side, we should retire back inside for the night. If our little experiment

works we should have a photo of our ice-cream eater by morning.

That night in his bedroom, Nathaniel was extremely excited about them capturing a

picture of the raccoon. He was convinced now that his father was correct. He was no longer

afraid to sleep in his room alone, and was curious to part his shades to check on their experiment.

Although he was still too afraid to actually open his blinds again to look outside at night. As

curious as he was, and as much as he realized his father was correct, having seen those eyes, and

hearing all the stories about her, his rational mind was still unable to make him brave enough to

open his shades.

Instead he laid in his bed trying to relax and sleep. He felt so excited to find what they

would capture on the camera in the morning it difficult for him to fall asleep as much as he

wanted to. It was the same excitement he used to feel when he was younger the night before

Christmas, wondering what Santa Claus would leave him under the tree. Staring up at his ceiling

he wondered about the girls that lived in this building so long ago. He speculated how they slept

each evening. Were they so exhausted from working for so many long hours they fell directly to

sleep? Did they cherish their moments in bed as their only moments of joy in their lives of dread

and toil or did they lay in bed dreading the knowledge they would have slave away another one

of their endless days on the factory floor? He thought that even though they were making money,

all their money was being sent home to their parents. If they were keeping their money they

never had time to enjoy it or their young lives. He started to realize how lucky he was that he

was born in the twenty-first century. The worse thing in his life was going to school and taking

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an exam. He had time to enjoy his youth. He did not have to worry about where his next meal

would come from. All of life's basics were provided for him, and much more. As awful as he

realized working in an early nineteen-century factory was, he understood that life on a farm may

was not much better, or even worse. They may not have been slaves like those in the South at the

time, but they still were not free either in his opinion. They belonged to their parents. They

belonged to Mr. Kreeton who their parents gave them to. In many ways, he imagined, their

traditions and obedience to their parents chained them to the factory floor.

Yet, here at the factory they at least would not feel the pings of hunger. Here they did

have a bed to sleep in every night, and a roof over their heads. For a child of the twenty-first

century it was clearly not enough. Nathaniel realized though that those girls of over a hundred

and fifty year ago did not know computers, smart phones, video games, movies, television, cars,

electric appliances, light bulbs, central heating or air-conditioning. They grew up in a time when

most of the world was still digging, plowing, and doing backbreaking harvesting just to have

enough to eat. The more Nathaniel thought about the lives they had, that most people had

throughout most of human history, spending five days a week in school seemed like a luxury in

comparison to working on a pre-industrial farm, or in a factory six days a week for twelve hours

a day. It was difficult for him to envision what it was like to live in a world where sleep and meal

time were the only joys in person's daily life.

He was sure though Mr. Kreeton with all his wealth did not live such a hard life. The

industrialists were in a way the new lords of the land. They did take a gamble investing their

money into building factories and creating jobs for millions. Yet, if they were successful their

lives were not nearly as difficult as that of their contemporary American farmers or factory

workers. They had servants in the North to do all the labor intensive work that needed to be

done. In the south, on the large plantations, owners had slaves instead of servants to care for

them and their manors. In some ways as bad as it seemed to modern eyes, it was still an

improvement to the lords and Kings of old Europe. Nathaniel remembered his father telling him

how people lived in feudal Europe. The common man was merely a peasant, a serf of the land

owned by their lords. At least in early nineteenth century America, most farmers owned their

own land and a large class of skilled labors existed in the nation. They worked for themselves

and kept their profits and had the freedom to make better life for themselves and their families.

The surfs of feudal Europe worked land that did not even belong to them. Their lords owned the

49

land and the fruits of their labor. The religion of their Kings were forces upon them. They did not

even have the freedom to worship or not worship as they pleased. America in the nineteenth-

century at least had much more religious freedom compared to the old European kingdoms and

religious wars.

When harvest time did come for the peasants of Europe their lords first given the bulk of

thier crops as a payment for them to merely have the right to work their lands. They were never

left with enough that they could buy off the yoke of their servitude. If they had a bad harvest, the

peasant farmers went hungry. The nobles and royals never felt hunger. The American

Revolution, his father told him, was the beginning of the end of the concept that one man was of

‘noble’ birth while another was not.

“It is why Americans do not bow” his father told him once. “We shack hands as equals,

we do not believe that any man is better than another. Of course we were not perfect. In the

beginning we had a very strong burden of racism and slavery, but the concept of America began

a global movement of freedom. Before America, for thousands of years of human history the

majority of most people were trapped in servitude to a handful of noble elite families, who took

power by the clash of arms, and held onto power by the cross, the rope, the stake, and the ax of

their executioners.” Due to all his thinking, he was soon deep asleep.

The next morning Nathaniel went outside with his dad to check to see if their experiment

had worked. Michelle was already outside waiting for them. She was wearing her little red riding

hood outfit and had her book bag ready to go to school after they checked the camera. “The box

is open and the ice-cream is gone.” She informed them.

As Nathaniel approached he too saw that the box had been unlashed, opened, and all the

ice-cream in the bowl was licked clean. “Were you waiting long?” he asked her.

“No, I just got down here a minute or so before you.” She replied

Nathaniel’s dad was checking out the camera. “Well it did take a picture last night.” The

three of them went to the back to the camera to view the LCD screen. It was a clear shot of a

raccoon that had just opened the box. His eyes glowed from the flash of the camera.

“You were right, Dad! It was a raccoon! How did you know that they could open the

box?” Nathaniel asked.

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“As simple latch like they had on the box, I knew it wouldn’t be difficult for raccoon. I

told you they are very clever animals. It made much more sense that raccoons had been eating

the ice-cream than a ghost.” He’s father took the memory card out of the camera “Does your

teacher have a printer in the classroom?”

“She does.” Nathaniel answered.

“Here then.” His father handed him the flash card. “Have your teacher print out the photo

for you. You can show your classmates that it hasn’t been a ghost eating ice-cream every new

moon, just clever raccoons with a sweet tooth.”

“Thanks, dad,” Nathaniel took the flash card. “This should really shock them. For all

these generations they have been afraid of raccoons.”

At school Nathaniel asked his teacher if she could print the photo on the flash drive. He

explained to her what is was a picture of and the teacher was very excited to see the photo.

As the picture printed out his classmates gathered around the printer. They were all in

awe how Nathaniel’s father was able to capture the raccoon opening the famous ice-cream box.

It was clear to all of them that it was raccoons and not the ghost of her.

“But what of all those that died in 1918?” Tommy Green asked who usually sat in the

back of the classroom quietly. “The time when they forgot to put out the ice-cream for her.”

Nathaniel told his class what his father had told him about the Spanish flu pandemic of

1918. That it was just a coincidence that the year they did not put out the ice-cream the Spanish

flu hit that same year. One of his other classmates suggested that perhaps the person that was

responsible to put out the ice-cream those months did not because they had already gotten the

Spanish flu.

The teacher replied that was a very logical explanation. She also used the computer to

look up the Spanish flu to confirm what Nathaniel was saying was true. That the pandemic did

hit America that year and it had killed more people in one year than the four years of World War

One.

His teacher praised him and gave him extra credit for discovering the truth about the ice-

cream eater of the old water wheel. She also made another copy for herself and told him she

wanted to show the other teachers what he and his father had discovered. She then returned to

him his flash drive and the first printed copy of the photo. Many of his classmates patted

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Nathaniel on the back for a job well done. Some even said they would like to go fishing with him

at the river, now that they knew there was no ghost of the old waterwheel.

At lunch break Nathaniel sat at Michelle’s table with her female friends. He showed them

all the photo of the raccoon. The girls all giggled and laughed as they passed the photo among

themselves. “To think we have been afraid all this time of a cute little raccoon.”

“I always knew there wasn’t a ghost.” Fawn Grant stated with great pride jerking her

head back slightly to throw her long silky blond hair back.

“Oh, yeah sure you didn’t.” The girls answered.

“Never mentioned to me you didn’t think there wasn't ghost” Missy O’Dowell stated.

“And I thought I was your best friend?”

“You are,” Fawn insured her red haired freckled faced friend. “I know I told you just

recently that I didn’t think there was a ghost.”

“Sure, Fawn. Sure you did.” One of the girls sarcastically replied “You were not afraid as

the rest of us were?”

“No, I wasn’t.” Fawn lifted her head up straight and tossed her hair back again.

“Who is she?” Margret interrupted the conversation as she looked closely at the photo.

“Who is who?” The girls all turned their attention to Margret at the end of the table.

Margret looked up at everyone at the table, her eyes filled with fear. “The girl in the

photo.”

“What girl in the photo?” Nathaniel turned to look at Margret who held the photo in her

hands that were shaking.

“Didn’t anyone look closely at this photo?” Margret voice trembled “There is a girl in the

background standing next to the waterwheel.”

All the girls at the table dropped their jaws in shock and fear.

Nathaniel and Michelle both got up from their seats and went to stand behind Margret to

see what she was talking about. “Here!” Margret pointed out to them a blurry white figure in the

background near the waterwheel. “It looks like a girl in some old fashion dress.”

Nathaniel took the photo from Margret to look more closely at it. She was right. In the

background behind the raccoon in the distance there seemed to be the figure of a girl in a white

52

dress near the waterwheel. Without saying a word he handed the picture to Michelle so she too

could exam the girl in the background.

“Oh my God!” Michelle replied looking at the figure Margret pointed out to them.

“I never even noticed it.” Nathaniel said.

Missy took the photo from Michelle's hand, also seeing the ghostly figure in the

background. “None of us did. We were all so happy that was only a raccoon. None of us, accept

for Margret took the time to really examine the photo.”

“There is a ghost of the waterwheel.” Fawn stated as she took her turn to look more

closely at the photo “I knew it!”

On their way home that day, Nathaniel wanted to go straight to his father to show him the

figure in the background of the picture. He was confident that his father could find a logical

reasonable explanation for it. Michelle thought they should fist stop to see Nana and Grandpa

Miller and get their reaction to the photo. Nathaniel agreed to first stop to see the Millers,

partially thinking it would be nice to have a piece a pie before going home. They climbed the

small hill where the Miller house over looked the orchard. At the door Nathaniel remembered to

knock three times, wait a moment and then knock twice. The front door of the house slowly

opened and Grandpa Miller peered out at them. “Any monsters?”

“No monsters it is just us; Nathaniel and Michelle.”

“Ok, come in quickly; don’t want to let any of those terrible monsters in. Look at them

waiting for their chances to strike.” Grandpa Miller opened the door wide open for them as he

suspiciously eyed the army of perfectly lined up orchard trees below.

Closing the front door Grandpa Miller led them into the living room. All the lights were

off. Only the afternoon sun shined through the curtained windows creating shafts of light in a

mostly dark room.

“Is Nana Miller in the kitchen?” asked Michelle

“No, she is here with us now.” Grandpa Miller replied.

“Where?” Nathaniel asked.

“I am right here, my dears.” They heard Nana Miller clearly say, but they still could not

see her. Suddenly Nana Miller stepped out of the shadows as if she materialized from nowhere.

“I told you she was here.” Grandpa Miller said as he sat down in his chair.

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“Would you children like some pie?” Nana Miller smiled happy that Nathaniel and

Michelle had returned for another visit.

“Yes, please.” Nathaniel felt his stomach rumbling with excitement to have some of their

wonderful pie.

“Apple or Blueberry?”

“Apple please.” Nathaniel responded.

“Nothing for me, Mrs. Miller, thanks though for offering.” Michelle waved her hand in

no jester.

“Are you sure? The Apple pie is fresh out of the oven.” Nana temped her.

“Ok then, I will try a piece too.” Michelle suddenly smelled the hot apple pie, swaying

her.

“I want a big slice, please.” Mr. Miller looked to his wife.

“You should watch your weight, Charles. Not too big a piece.” Nana turned to the kitchen

to fetch the pieces of pie.

“Ok, fine, but not too small.” Mr. Miller grumbled.

Nana Miller returned carrying a serving tray with four plates of apple pie. She served

everyone and sat in her chair next to her husband across from Nathaniel and Michelle on the

couch. A shaft of light from the large bay windows cut between the Millers.

“So how can I help you? I have a feeling you didn’t come here just for more pie.” Nana

Miller held her pie plate in her left hand as she took half a fork full of the still steaming apple pie

with her right hand.

Nathaniel took out the picture, passed it first to Nana Miller and explained to them about

his father’s experiment. Nana Miller passed the photo to Charles who looked at very carefully.

“Looks like your father captured much more than he planned to.” Grandpa Miller stated.

“So it is a picture of her?” Nathaniel concern was clear on his face.

“It could be. Or it could be nothing at all. Perhaps my eyes are not what they use to be.”

Grandpa Miller handed the picture back to Nathaniel. “Growing up, especially in this town near

that old factory, I've heard a lot of ghost stories, but even after three tours of Vietnam, where I

did see much more death then anyone should, I have never actually seen a ghost.”

“Nor I” added Nana Miller. “We have all grown up hearing the stories, but your photo

here is the closest to a ghost I have ever seen too.”

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"So you do think it is her?" Nathan placed the photo back in his book bag.

“I am sure your father will have an idea what the figure in that photo is. He seems to be a

smart guy.” Nana Miller did not seem concerned or worried at all.

Nathaniel felt a bit better after talking to the Millers. Perhaps once again they were just

seeing what they wanted to see, a ghost of a girl from nearly two centuries ago. He was also

confident his father would know what the ghostly image in the picture really was.

When they entered Nathaniel’s apartment he called out to his father who emerged from

his office. “What is it Nathaniel?”

“It’s the photo, Dad.” Nathaniel handed it to him and pointed to the figure in the

background. His father looked at it puzzled seeing the ghostly image.

“I have to admit; even though it is blurry it does look like a girl.” His father said turning

and heading back into his office. “You have the flash drive with the original picture?” Nathaniel

handed it to his father who sat at his desk and inserted the flash drive into his computer. His

father opened the picture on the flash drive and zoomed into the section of the picture with the

white figure. Oddly the more he zoomed in the less and less it looked like a person, but just a

mere patch of light.

“Look here.” His father pointed to the bottom of the figure near the raccoon’s tail. "The

bottom of the ‘figure’ is not behind the raccoon’s tail, but in front of its tail.”

“What does it mean?” Michelle asked.

“The ‘figure’ is not in the back ground near the waterwheel.” Nathaniel’s father

explained. “It is in the foreground.” His father zoomed out the picture again. “Here! That is the

cause.” His father pointed to the tin frame he made for the door frame on the box. “When the

flash went off to catch the raccoon in action, some of the light hit the tin frame of the box’s lid,

reflecting back into the camera causing lens flair.”

“You mean it is not a spirit of a teenage ghost?” Michelle looked closely at what Nathan's

dad was pointing at.

“No, it is just light shining back onto the lens of the camera. The image you see as a girl

is not that different than staring up at clouds on a summer’s day and seeing the images of

unicorns and floating white elephants.”

“Just another optical illusion like the fire we saw on the third level.” Nathaniel stated.

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“Yes.” His father confirmed.

Nathaniel looked at Michelle, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled back at him.

“Perhaps we really have been listening to too many ghost stories.” she replied.

“Yes, perhaps we have. Thanks, Dad. We really got ourselves scared again when Margret

pointed out the ‘figure’.”

“It is understandable; at first glance it looked like a ghost to me too.” His father handed

the printed photo back to his son. “You can let your classmates know tomorrow, that you didn’t

capture the ghost of the waterwheel, you only caught an ice-cream loving raccoon and some lens

flare.”

Both Nathaniel and Michelle slept very well that night. Nathaniel even left his blinds

partly opened. It was his first night sleeping in the old factory that he had no fear. The next day

at school, Nathaniel brought back the photo and explained the lens flare to his teacher and his

classmates. Once he was able to explain it to them they all saw clearly that it was not a ghost of a

girl in the background, but just light hitting the box frame and bouncing onto the camera lens.

On their way home from school that day they stopped at Nana and Grandpa Miller’s to let

them know they were correct. Nathaniel’s dad was able to find a reasonable explanation for the

ghostly figure in the photo. Nana served them this time peach pie, which was the most delicious

either one of them had ever had. It had just a touch of cinnamon and scoops of vanilla ice-cream

on top of each of their pieces. Mr. Miller was jealous that she did not give him a scoop of ice-

cream too. He also noted that his slices of pie seemed to be getting smaller and smaller each time

the children came to visit. “The only time I ever get any pie is when you two come by. So be

sure to come over every day after school.” He winked at them as Nana returned the empty dishes

back to the kitchen.

Nathaniel got up and followed Nana into the kitchen. “Mrs. Miller can I help you do the

dishes.” He called out to her as he entered the kitchen. Even though he was only a few steps

behind her, he found the kitchen empty. All the dishes had already been cleaned. “Nana Miller?”

he called out again.

“In here, my dear.” Nana Miller replied from the living room. Nathaniel returned to the

living room finding Mrs. Miller sitting in her chair.

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“That’s strange I didn’t see you walk pass me.” He re-entering the living room and stood

behind Michelle whom was still sitting on the couch. Michelle stood sensing Nathaniel was

ready to head home.

“Thank you once again for the pie, Mrs. Miller.” Michelle smiled

Nathaniel rubbed his tummy which was very happy at the moment. "Yes, thank you so

much. I hope next time you let me at least do the dishes."

"You are too sweet, Nathan." Nana smiled up at him.

Mr. Miller stood and walked them to the door. He whispered to them, “Please remember

to come and visit as often as you want. She really likes you two.”

“We like both of you very much too, Mr. Miller.” Michelle answered giving him a kiss

on the cheek.

Mr. Miller blushed a little “Better than pie.”

57

Chapter Six - All Hollows' Eve

"All Souls' Day" Margret dressed as a sixteenth century witch explained to them over a

cup of hot cider at the school's Halloween Party. Her long green witches nose, complete with

hairs growing out of a mole on the end of it, was making it difficult for her to navigate the cup of

cider to her mouth.

"I thought it was called the Day of the dead?" asked Rodrigo Garcia who's blackened face

disappeared within the heavy woolen hood of his robe. Only his eyes could be made out due to

the glowing yellow contact lens he was wearing. He leaned on his seven foot long sickle that was

part of his costume.

"Yes, in Latin cultures, the Day of the Dead is somewhat similar to All Souls Day, or as

we now say in America Halloween or All Hollows' Eve." Margret handed her wood and straw

broom stick for Nathaniel to hold for her. "Thank you, Nathaniel." she used her now free hand to

bend her long witches nose to finally be able to drink from her cup.

"No, problem." He slung his replica flint lock over his blue Revolutionary War Colonial

uniform in order to take hold of Margret's Broom. "Have you seen, Michelle?"

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"She didn't come with you?" Margret seemed surprised as she held her nose to finish her

cider.

"No, she said she wanted to surprise me with her costume."

"Really?" Margret took back her broom and looked around the school gym filled with

costumed students and Halloween decorations. "I wonder what she is coming as?"

Suddenly the lights in the gym went out. The two main doors swung open with a

powerful burst of wind, slamming loudly against the walls. Everyone at the party went silent and

turned their attention to the doorway. Standing there, silently was the silhouette of a girl in a

early nineteenth century dress. Her face was pale framed by long straight black hair. Around her

neck was a twisted thick natural fiber rope that reached up into the air behind and above her.

"It's her!" Many in the room screamed. Many of the girls and some of the boys began to

cry in complete horror.

The lights suddenly came back on and everyone could clearly see that it was not her, but

Michelle. Her face was painted white with her eyes in blackened circles.

"It's only me!" Michelle tried to claim down the party.

Margret and Nathaniel approached her, but one of the teachers had reached her first.

"That was not funny young lady!" Ms. Crabtree scolded Michelle. "You nearly gave every adult

in the gymnasium a heart attack."

" I nearly peed myself." Margret responded.

Nathaniel noticed a puddle at Fawn's feet. "I think someone did." He turned his attention

back to Michelle "Great costume and entrance. How did you synchronize the lights going out

and both doors swinging open like that?"

"I didn't." Michelle responded.

"Where did you get the dress?"

Michelle curiously looked at Nathaniel "I thought it was from you? I found it wrapped in

brown wax paper, tied together with some string in front of my door."

"It's not from me. I have never seen it before."

Margret was fascinated with the rope around her neck. It looked as if the rope was

magically climbing up into thin air all on its own. "How did you get the rope to stand straight up

like that?"

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"My Step-dad made it for me. The rope is twisted around a wire. He said it's an old trick

of Indian rope climbers."

"Well I am not so sure this an appropriate costume, young lady!" Ms. Crabtree

interrupted their conversation.

Principle Greenberg walked up to them "Lighten up, Ms. Crabtree. It's a Halloween party.

Are you suggesting it is too soon for a costume based on her?" Especially since it was Michelle

and Nathaniel that finally put to rest that old ghost story surrounding her." He turned to

Michelle. "Although young lady perhaps your entrance was a bit too dramatic?"

"Principle Greenberg, I had nothing to do with the doors swinging open like they did, or

the lights going out." Michelle pleaded her innocents.

"Perhaps it was her." suggested Margret. Causing the others to all look at Margret in

disbelief.

"Really now, Miss Reed?" commented Principle Greenberg.

"Just saying." defended Margret.

"Well why don't you kids return to the party, and no more theatrics."

Nathaniel lead Michelle to the food and drink table with Margret in tow. "You say you

just found this dress outside your bedroom door? It must have been your mom or step-dad that

gave you the dress."

"No, not outside my bedroom door, outside our apartment door. That is why I thought it

was you." Michelle clarified as Nathaniel poured her some cider and another cup for Margret.

"Well if it wasn't your parents, and it wasn't Nathaniel? Who would have given you the

dress and known your size? Margret questioned "The dress looks like it was tailor made for

you."

"Yes, it does. Doesn't it?" Michelle used her one free hand to stroke the very graceful and

feminine garment. "It is very comfortable. I've never worn a dress before. It even came with a

petticoat."

"What's a petticoat?" asked Nathaniel filling his own cup of cider.

Michelle slightly lifted the hem of the long dress that nearly touched the floor revealing

the pink ruffles of fabric under her dress. "It is like a second skirt you wear under the dress. It

helps give the dress its bell shaped form and helps keep you warm." Her lifting the long skirt

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also revealed that she was wearing very old fashion laced pair of leathered boots. "The boots

were also in the package. They fit me like a glove."

"That is really strange." responded Nathan "It must be your mom that left you the outfit.

Who else would know your sizes so well?"

"My mom insists it was not her."

Billy Mania, dressed in eighteenth century garb and holding Venetian style masquerade

mask on a stick approached them. Sheaved around his waist was a blunted fencing foil, his hair

was pulled back and tied into a pony tail. Billy Mania was considered the coolest kid in the sixth

grade. He was already twelve, and was rumored to have started shaving at least once a week. He

had the strongest jaw line Nathaniel had ever seen on anyone outside of a comic book.

"Who are you suppose to be?" Nathaniel asked Billy as Margret and Michelle seemed to

have entered into a trance by Billy joining their small circle.

"Casanova." he replied to Nathaniel turning to face and look at Michelle through the two

holes of his masquerade mask. His eyes were as deep brown as her eyes were deep blue "Do you

like it?" With his free hand he took Michelle's hand raising it to him he bowed before her. He

moved his mask away from his face so he could kiss the top of her hand.

"Ok, ok, enough of that, Casanova." Ms. Crabtree interrupted. "This is not the 18th

century. Nowadays you can get expelled from school for sexual harassment for doing that."

"My apologizes." Billy Mania staying in character gracefully released Michelle's hand as

he strengthened up.

"I didn't mind." Michelle blushed as she tenderly retrieved her hand. Nathaniel also

turned a bit red, but it was not from being embarrassed.

"I have to say. I love your costume, Michelle." Billy out of character complimented her.

"You really gave this place a scare."

"I didn't mean to scare anyone." She answered. "Just thought it was a timely costume

especially when I received this dress at my door step."

"Well you look really scary, and beautiful too." Billy responded.

"Thank you for noticing." Michelle gave a disapproving glance at Nathaniel.

"I think you look beautiful no matter what you wear." Nathaniel defended himself.

Michelle smiled "Thank you, Nathan."

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Nathaniel seeing that Margret was feeling ignored turned to her. "Margret, you too look

beautiful tonight,,, under all that ugly witch makeup."

Margret and the others laughed at Nathaniel's odd flattering remark to Margret.

"Thank you, Nathaniel. You are a real Casanova. You know how to make all the girls

feel good about themselves." Margret grave a disapproving glance towards Billy Martin.

It seemed Billy was completely unaware of Margret's slight to him. His attention was

completely affixed to Michelle "I and some of the other guys are going to go trick or treating

Halloween night. I wanted to know if you would like to join us?" he asked Michelle.

"We would love to go." Michelle included Nathaniel, Margret, and Rodrigo in Billy's

invitation, ignoring the fact that he was clearly only asking her.

"Ah, yeah, sure you are all welcome to join us." Billy feeling cornered extended his offer

to the other three in the circle. "Well I should get back to my friends. I'll talk to you later."

Once Billy was out of earshot Nathaniel responded "Yeah, go back to your real friends."

Margret and Rodrigo laughed.

"Why did you agree to go trick or treating with him?" asked Margret.

"Why not?" Michelle answered. "Never hurts to make more friends."

"With friends like Billy Mania who needs enemies?" Rodrigo answered.

"Oh, he is not so bad." Michelle defended Billy.

"To you he is not, because his attracted to you." Margret responded. "Everyone knows

that Nathaniel is attracted to you too, but he never makes me feel like a un-person."

Nathaniel turned a bit red from Margret's comment.

"Is that true? Are you attracted to me, Nathaniel?" she smiled broadly.

"You would have to be blind not see it." Answered Rodrigo for Nathaniel.

"Actually a blind person could sense it. You can hear how his voice softens when he talks

to you." added Margret. "If you were not such a nice person I would hate you, Michelle. I wish

Nathaniel would talk to me the way he talks to you."

"I am not nice to you?" Nathaniel asked Margret avoiding Michelle's question.

"Yes, Nathaniel, you are. That is why I envy Michelle. I do not envy her for Billy Mania

being interested in her."

"You didn't answer me, Nathan." Michelle was not going to allow him to avoid the

question. "Is what Margret saying true?"

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Before Nathaniel could answer he was interrupted by Principle Greenberg standing on a

small platform with a microphone. "Can I have everyone's attention." The party conversations

settled down and all the students and teachers turned their attention to Mr. Greenberg. "I am

happy to say I feel this is the best Halloween Party we have ever had here at Thomas Paine

Elementary School. Your customs have been amazing, and it is clear a lot of attention and work

went into them. So, it was very difficult to choose the best costumes. Due to so many historical

themes this year we decide to add a second category for customs: best period custom, along with

our usual best costume that makes a topical statement, scariest customs, and over all best

costume."

The room became even more silent as Principle Greenberg was handed the envelop that

contained the names of this year's winners. "I am happy to announce that along with our trophies

we have gift certificates for our winners to the Best Number One Chinese Restaurant, our local

family Chinese restaurant. For our best costume winner in addition to the certificate for four to

the Best Number One Chinese Restaurant, they will also receive a One-hundred dollar gift

certificate to our very own local Book and coffee shop; The Guttenberg Hangout. Good luck to

everyone." Mr. Greenberg seemed oddly excited and nervous as he tore open the sealed

envelope.

"I think you're going to win." Nathaniel said to Michelle.

"If I do, will you go with me?"

Nathaniel was surprised by her question. Was she asking him on a date?

"The winner for best topical outfits are..... Walter Johnson and Henry Lee!"

Walter Johnson and Henry Lee screamed and hugged each other before running up to the

stage to collect their small trophies and gift certificates. Walter a tall young black American was

dressed as Dennis Rodman with Pink hair, piercings, a basketball jersey and shorts, and was

holding a basketball. Henry, who happened to be of South Korean decent, was wearing a Moa

suit and a flag pin on his lapel of North Korea, or more officially known as the Democratic

People's Republic of Korea. He even had his hair buzz cut like Kim Jung Un's and his hands

were covered in red. They both had make-up on, looking like the radiation burns Rodman and

Kim had both suffered while witnessing the recent failed North Korean nuclear missile test.

Once on stage they continued to jump up and down and hug each other. Everyone in the

gymnasium clapped for them.

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"Now for scariest costume." Principle Greenberg continued "Our winner is.... Margret

Reed!"

Margret's mouth dropped in disbelief.

"Margret, you won!" Nathaniel congratulated her.

"Good for you, Margret!" Michelle gave her a hug.

"I won?" It finally hit Margret "I never won anything before."

"Go, Margret, get your trophy and gift certificate." Rodrigo encouraged her.

In character Margret straddled her broomstick and ran up the stage cackling like an old

witch. Reaching the stage she snatched the trophy from Principle Greenberg's hand. Caressing

the trophy like a baby she called it "My pretty" for everyone to hear. The room broke out into

laughter.

"Congratulations Miss Reed." Principle Greenberg continued "For best historical

costume....... Billy Mania!"

Very much in character Billy Martin suavely walked up to the stage to receive his trophy.

He blew kisses and smiled with his pearl white teeth to all the attractive female students, and

female teachers. His charm was undeniable as he continued to wink at the ladies. Some of the

girls giggled in delight from his attention.

Billy after receiving his certificate and trophy took hold of Principle Greenberg's

microphone. "I would like to thank all the little people that made this happen. My mother for

sewing this costume for me, both my parents for their awesome DNA, and of course to the real

Casanova for his inspiration!" He then looked at one of the teachers aids who was a very

attractive coed from the state university. "Oh, and of course I want to thank you, the judges for

making such an excellent choice."

"Ok, ok, Casanova." Mr. Greenberg took back the control of his microphone "Now for

our final winner, best costume for this year's Halloween party. The winner is..... Michelle

Bowman!"

"I told you would win." Nathaniel said.

"You will go with me?" She asked him again.

"Of course, Michelle. I would love to."

She smiled and worked her way through the clapping crowd to the stage. Mr. Greenberg

handed her the trophy and two gift certificates. "Congratulations, Miss Bowman."

64

After school on Halloween they all met in front of the Best Number One Chinese

Restaurant for a early dinner. With Margret's, and Billy Mania's gift certificates they were able

to pay for everyone's dinner before going out trick or treating. Margret had invited Michelle,

Nathaniel and Rodrigo. Billy had his three best friends Mikey, Joey, and Bruce. Bruce was not

really a friend of Billy's. He was just a want-to-be that Billy let hang out with them so they could

mock and ridicule him. Bruce was so thin that it seemed he could be easy broken over Billy's leg

like a dried twig. Mikey and Joey on the other hand were both big guys. Future linebackers or

bouncers Nathaniel guessed. They oddly both had the faces of bull dogs. They were cousins, yet

mysteriously looked more like twin brothers than cousins or at least bull dogs from the same

litter. Their personalities unfortunately were more like pit bulls than bull dogs. Oddly even

though Billy was not nearly as big as either of them he seemed to have them both on very short

leashes. They did not bite or bark unless Billy told them too.

The Bruno cousins were dressed as marauders from the post-apocalypse Mad Max movie

franchise; black leather pants and jackets, football shoulder pads, hockey knee and elbow pads,

and they even had their heads shaved into Mohawks. Bruce was dressed in a wide brim hat, a

long wool coat, and a wool scarf around his neck.

"Who are you suppose to be?" Rodrigo asked Bruce.

"Yes, you got it." Bruce answered.

"I got it? You are who?"

"Yes."

Rodrigo was getting frustrated. So Nathaniel explained "I think he is suppose to be Dr.

Who."

"Dr. Who? Who's Doctor Who?" Rodrigo was still puzzled.

"That's what we asked." said one of the Bruno brothers.

"He's a Time Lord, from a British scifi show." answered Nathaniel.

"You like Doctor Who?" Bruce thought he found a fellow nerd in Nathaniel.

"I am more a Marvel comics fan. But I know who Dr. Who is. Aren't you dressed as one

of the earlier Doctor Who's?"

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"Yes, I am dressed as the fourth Doctor, he is my father's favorite. I like the ninth the

best, but was not able to get the right clothes for him. This was actually my father's Halloween

costume when he was a kid."

"Enough already. No one cares about some British Dr. Who. If you're going to be such a

geek, at least be an American geek like Nathan." Billy slapped Bruce on the back of the head.

"Don't hit him." Nathaniel stood up for Bruce.

Billy was about to sic the cousins on Nathaniel, but saw that Michelle was already upset

and would be even more so if he did. "Lighten up, Nathan. He loves it." Billy gave Bruce a head

lock "Don't you, Bruce."

"Yeah, Billy." Bruce gasped for air.

"Let go of him, Billy." Michelle demanded.

Billy let go of his headlock on Bruce. "He loves it. I wasn't going to really hurt him."

"Yeah. Billy is my friend. He wouldn't really hurt me!" Bruce snapped at Michelle.

"Let's go eat." Billy lead his boys into the restaurant.

"Like I said before, with friends like Billy Mania, who needs enemies." Rodrigo

whispered to Nathaniel as they followed them into the restaurant.

Michelle was starting to agree with Rodrigo that making friends with Billy Mania was

not such a good idea.

For their early dinner their favorite Francophile Chinese waiter attended to their needs.

After many wonderful traditional Chinese dishes he surprised them with a very special desert.

"For dessert I have whipped up special for your pleasure Mousse au Chocolat" The

waiter announced to them as he placed mouth watering glass cups of creamy chocolate mousse

topped with dabs of fresh whipped cream before each of them.

Even though they were all full from the dinner, they all seemed able to find room for the

chocolate mousse. As they placed the first spoonfuls in their mouths they all sighed in great

pleasure. It was if they had just tasted the food of the gods.

"This is wonderful, Xiao Bo." Michelle responded.

"Please call me Pier." Xiao Bo smiled seeing that they were truly enjoying his mousse.

The Bruno cousins using their tongues licked their glass dessert cups clean. "That was

really good! They both claimed as the slammed their empty cups on the table in satisfaction.

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"I don't think I am going to have any room for candy tonight." Rodrigo announced as he

rubbed his belly through his heavy robe.

"Once we start walking you will feel a lot better." Nathaniel assured Rodrigo.

"I want more of that mousse." claimed one of the cousins.

"You have to be kidding?" responded Billy who looked as if he had gained ten pounds

since their multi-course banquet.

"I could go for more too." the other cousin agreed with the first.

Nathaniel was right, after they had been trick or treating for over an hour, Rodrigo was

already dipping into his cash of candy for a chocolate bar. He eat it in one bite. The Bruno

Cousins had already finished half their haul as they walked.

"Why don't we go to your apartment building?" suggested Billy. "I understand more

people have finally moved in there and we don't need to walk so far door to door. We should get

a good haul there quickly."

"I ain't going there." One of the Bruno's replied.

"Me neither. Yous can go without us." The other cousin agreed.

Billy stopped and faced the two walking mountains. "You're afraid?"

They both stood silently not sure how to respond.

"I am not afraid, Billy." Bruce stepped forward.

Billy ignored Bruce still looking at the Bruno cousins, waiting for a reply. "You two

aren't afraid of anyone."

"Well She is not just anyone." Mikey answered.

"Mr. Keeton ain't either." Joey added. "Yous guys go, we should head home anyways."

"It's only eight o'clock, and not even a school night."

"Yeah, we forgot. We promised Uncle Ronnie we'd help him at the gas station tomorrow

morning. Isn't that right Joey?"

Joey hesitated at first until he realized he should play along with Mikey's lie. "Yeah,

that's right. We promised Uncle Ronnie."

"Your Uncle Ronnie's station is self-service."

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They both stood there like the two dumb lunks they were. They both struggled for a

reply. Both their mouths were open as if they were going to reply, but nothing came out of either

of their heads.

"Just go. Wouldn't want you two to have nightmares tonight or wet your beds."

"Will see you later, Billy." Mikey answered as he and Joey took off.

"I'm not afraid, Billy." Bruce repeated.

Billy still ignored Bruce and turned to the others. "So, are we going, or you guys afraid

too?"

"We live there." Nathaniel answered for himself and Michelle.

"I am not afraid." Margret answered "As long as Nathaniel is with us." Margret turned to

Rodrigo for his reply.

"Nathaniel's dad already proved there is no her. I am willing to go."

It did not take long for them to find themselves on the road that cut through the woods

between the town and the river. They were just at the point where they could not see the town

anymore and were still not close enough to see the bridge and river ahead of them.

They had a full moon that night so their way was well light. Even though Michelle and

Nathaniel had walked this road many times, to and from school, this was the first time they

walked it at night. The trees on each side of the road had a spooky feel to them, half bare, their

twisted branches reached out in all directions in gray and black silhouettes under the night sky.

They could hear some movement in the woods as leaves cracked and were swept aside as

creatures unseen took flight in the woods as they approached.

"It is just deer, rabbits, or raccoons." Nathaniel assured the others.

"Do you think there are bears in these woods?" Asked Rodrigo.

"Possible. Black bears." responded Margret. "Bears have been making a comeback in the

area."

"Bears? oh my! Perhaps there's lions and tigers too?" Billy joked. "Lions, and tigers, and

bears, oh my!" He laughed but the others did not.

"Bears are real, Billy Mania." Margret responded.

"And tigers and lions aren't?" he mocked her.

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"I know tigers are not real in New England." Nathaniel defended Margret "As for lions

sure there hasn't been mountain lions in this area for over a century."

"Actually there have been some rare cases of mountain lions spotted in the state, but

further north of here." Rodrigo informed them.

They all suddenly heard something very big move in the woods right near them. They all

stopped to listen and try to see into the dark woods to catch a glimpse of what made the noise.

"I am scared." Michelle took Nathaniel's arm.

"Me too." Margret took Nathaniel's other arm.

Billy was bewildered that the girls were not reaching out to him for protection when he

suddenly felt someone grab his arm. It was Bruce.

"Let go of me!" Billy shook Bruce free of himself.

"Sorry." Bruce let go, who was starting to shack in fear.

"Your scared?" Billy questioned Bruce.

"No, not me. I am not scared" he replied continuing to shake. "Just a bit cold."

"How can you be cold with all that heavy wool on?" Billy responded.

"It sounds like it is getting closer." Rodrigo pointed his death's sickle towards the woods.

Nathaniel broke the hold of the girls on his arms and un-slung his musket. It couldn't fire, but he

could at least use it like a pike or club.

Billy un-sheaved his blunted foil thinking he could at least poke out one of the beasts

eyes if it attack him. Even Margret held up her broom stick ready to beat back the wild animal

approaching them louder and louder through the darkened woods. Their defensive stance seemed

to ward off the creature of the night. Although they never saw it, the sound it was making was

clearly now moving away from them back into the woods that Grandpa Miller had warned them

of.

It took a moment for them to all realize the danger had past. As they did they noticed how

each of them, accept for Bruce and Michelle had without thinking took on a combative stance

with the props of their Halloween costumes.

"Well that was exciting." Billy broke the silence, re-sheaving his foil. "There was nothing

to worry about" he looked at the girls.

"How is that?" asked Michelle.

"Well if it were a lion or bear. We could just feed Bruce to it, while we make our escape."

69

Bruce nervously laughed "You're a card, Billy."

Nathaniel though could tell by looking at Billy he was not kidding. Billy Mania was more

than willing to sacrifice his little friend to save his own neck.

They began to continue their trek to the bridge.

"Michelle, do you mind if I stay at your place tonight. I really don't want to walk back

this way later tonight." Margret asked.

Michelle smiled and put a reassuring arm around Margret. "You are more than welcome."

"Thank you, Michelle."

Just in sight of the bridge Nathaniel who was now leading the group stopped. "What was

that?"

"What was what." Billy asked a bit annoyed.

"Quite, listen."

They all became very still and listened. At first they expected to hear another wild animal

making its way towards them though the woods, but none of them heard any movement in the

woods.

"What are we listening for?" whispered Rodrigo.

"Music." Nathaniel answered.

"Music?" asked Michelle.

Nathaniel put his finger to his mouth to signal that they should not talk. They all obeyed,

even Billy, and listened carefully. Their eyes all widened as they too could hear in the distance,

deep in the woods, what sounded like a pipe organ.

"Its him." Margret said what they had all been thinking when they heard the sound. "But

it's not the seventh of November."

This time even Billy was clearly struck with fear. "I think we should get across the bridge

now."

"I agree." Rodrigo responded.

The small group of trick-or-treaters began to run for the bridge. The organ music, still

faint, seemed to be getting louder, especially in their heads. They could see the bridge ahead of

them. As they got closer and closer to the bridge the sound of the river began to drown out the

sound of the pipe music from the woods.

70

Not taking any chances they dashed across the bridge and away from the woods. They

could see a light on at the Millers' so Nathaniel and Michelle lead the group there to take refuge.

Trying to catch their breaths they finally found themselves on Millers front porch.

Nathaniel still breathing heavily knocked three times, paused, and then knocked twice. Grandpa

Miller answered the door. The children gave a half hearted "Trick or Treat."

"Can we come in, Mr. Miller?" Nathaniel asked.

"Of course, come right in, get out of the cold. You look like the trees were after you." He

opened the door wider letting in the trick-or-treaters.

They entered the living room noticing all the lights were on. There was no sign of Nanny

Miller.

"Nana a sleep?" asked Michelle.

"Oh, no, it's Halloween she not here." Grandpa Miller responded sitting in his chair.

"Where is she." Nathaniel asked "Is she ok?"

"Oh she's fine. Just ever since the accident she is never home on Halloween. I don't really

understand why, and she never tells me where she goes. So it is just me here." He then whispered

to them. "I can have as much pie as I want when she is not here." he smiled. Remembering his

manners he asked them in a normal tone. "Do you want some pie?"

They sat and had their pie. Billy did not stay he had already left. He had called his mother

on his cell phone to come and pick him and Bruce up. Billy decided that he had enough of trick

and treating for one night. Margret and Rodrigo decided to stay overnight with Michelle and

Nathaniel.

"So, you all look very wonderful in your customs. Sorry Nana isn't home to see them."

"When will she return?" Michelle could not eat any more food and had refused the slice

Grandpa Miller had offered her.

"Always at midnight. She always returns right when that old grandfather clock strikes

twelve." He pointed at a Grandfather clock that stood ticking away beside the front door.

"I don't think we should stay so late." Nathaniel was always able to find some room for

the Miller's pies.

"You are more than welcome to." Grandpa Miller answered "But I wouldn't want your

parents to worry too much."

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Michelle looked to Nathaniel. "I would like to talk to her about the music."

"Yes." Margret agreed "We all heard it."

"The music?" Grandpa Miller asked.

"We heard the pipe music from the woods. It sounded like that piece of music you played

for us. The music he plays for her on the anniversary of her death."

" Handel's Sarabande, but it's not the seventh of November. Couldn't be him."

"We all heard it." Rodrigo confirmed. "I am not sure what the music was, but it did sound

like a pipe organ, just like in the old stories about it."

Michelle stood up. "Perhaps we should go. It is getting late and we can always return

tomorrow to talk to Nana."

"Yes, yes of course you can. You know you are very welcome to return anytime."

Grandpa Miller stood to show them to the door.

The others stood and followed Michelle out. Once outside they could see the factory

across the street. The lights on the first two floors were light up in their wing. More families had

moved into the building, yet Nathan and Michelle were still the only children in the building, not

including Michelle's little brother. In contrast the factory floor wing was unsettlingly dark and

abandoned looking.

As they walked over to the factory Margret took Nathan's arm. He looked at her "Are you

still afraid?"

"We all heard the music. His ghost is in those woods." she looked up at him.

"But it isn't November Seventh. If it were him, he would not be playing tonight."

"Perhaps he is missing her?" Michelle took Nathan's other arm.

"Perhaps he also plays on Halloween night, but everyone has been too scared to come

this way on Halloween and never heard him play, on this night." Rodrigo seemed a bit uneasy

that Nathan did not have a third arm he could also take a hold of.

72

Chapter Seven - Seventh of November

Margret just stared at Nathaniel from across the lunch room as she bit into her turkey and

cheese sandwich on whole wheat bread with lettuce and deli mustard. Michelle and the other

girls could not help noticing Margret's fascination with him.

"Why don't you ask him out?" Fawn laughingly suggested. The other girls laughed too.

"Huh?" Margret replied, not clearly hearing Fawn.

"Nathaniel. Why don't you ask him out?" Missy repeated.

"Nathaniel?" Margret sighed deeply "Oh, no. I wouldn't dare. I couldn't."

"Why not?" Fawn asked again as she threw back her golden locks of hair in her

customary fashion. "You are clearly in love with him." The girls all laughed more.

"He would never be interested in me." Margret looked sadly at the girls.

"Why not? Your almost a woman." Fawn joked as she mockingly puffed out her chest

and wiggled it. One of the girls laughed so hard the milk she was drinking sprayed out from her

nose.

73

"Oh, no. Nathaniel loves Michelle." Margret explained to Fawn and the other girls.

The girls all looked at Michelle who had turned red by Margret's suggestion.

"Really, now?" Fawn asked Michelle.

At that moment Nathaniel approached the table. He said hello to the girls who were all

biting their tongues to prevent themselves from laughing out. Nathaniel smiled at Margret who

was clearly looking at him with dreamy eyes and a broad smile. He turned his attention to

Michelle.

"I was wondering if you wanted to wait for me after school today?"

Michelle still red with embarrassment did not turn to reply to him. Instead she looked at

the banana in her hand that she about to take a bit out of. "You're not going straight home

today?" She took a small bite off the tip of the peeled banana.

"No, the guys asked me to join a lacrosse game after school. I have never played before.

Do you want to join us?" He asked a bit confused why she would not face him as he talked to

her.

"You shouldn't walk home so late, especially at night." warned Margret.

"Why not?" asked Nathaniel.

"It's the night of her death. He plays for her tonight."

"Even if the story is true, music cannot hurt us." Nathan looked at Margret clearly

skeptical.

"We all heard it on Halloween night." Margret insisted.

"And, did anything bad happen to us?" He asked her. Margret shook her head 'no'. He

turned back to Michelle "Will you play with us so we can walk home together later?"

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"I would like to play with you." Margret surprised herself and everyone else at the table

as she blurted out a reply to Nathaniel's question to Michelle.

Nathaniel coolly responded "Sure, Margret, you are welcome to join." He looked at

Michelle who's redness had still not completely subsided. "Will you join us, or at least watch the

game so we can walk home together later?"

Michelle still did not look directly at him "Sure." She went back to eating her banana.

"I will see you both after school." Nathaniel returned to his table.

"I will be there!" Margret called out to Nathaniel just as he reached the table of boys.

Fawn and the other girls looked suspiciously at Michelle who had refused to look

Nathaniel in the eyes the whole time he had been talking to her. "It seems Margret is not the only

one in love with Nathaniel."

Changing the subject Michelle asked the table "How do you play lacrosse?"

Margret pulled out her new smart phone. "Lacrosse?" she spoke into the device.

The device verbally replied "Lacrosse, oldest North American sport. Originally known as

Baggataway a Chippewa word meaning 'Little brother of war.' First observed by French

missionaries in 1636, the sport is believed to have originated around 1400."

"That's Nathaniel's voice." Fawn pointed out.

Margret lowered the device "Yes, it is. Nathaniel was nice enough to repeat a few key

sentences into my phone for me. I then just needed to answer some personality questions about

him, and the phone mimics his voice and personality."

"Awesome." one of the other girls responded.

75

"As it talks to you with Nathaniel's voice can it vibrate too?" Fawn devilishly asked with

a very suggestive smile. The table, except for Margret and Michelle, burst out laughing so loud

that everyone in the lunchroom turned their attention to the girls' table.

The playfield was located between the woods and the school. The girls sat on the

bleachers as they watched the boys run back and forth on the field with their lacrosse sticks

chasing whoever had the small ball in the net of their stick. Realizing that the Bruno Cousins

were also playing Margret and Michelle determined it was safer to just watch than join in.

There was a reason the native-Americans had called the game the "the little brother of

war." The original game was played on an area up to two miles wide, as teams fought for the

control of a small leather ball made from deer hide and filled with deer hair and feathers. The

game was so brutal that players did not just suffer serious injuries, but players were actually at

times killed during the game. Instead of going to war, the native-Americans would use lacrosse

as a less destructive way to settle disputes between the tribes.

Even though the boys were wearing protective helmets and padding it still hurt as the

young boys bodies smashed into each other trying to protect or dislodge the ball from whomever

was in possession of it. There were no adults supervising the game, so the rules were not always

being enforced. Nathaniel found himself on his butt, or peekoo as his mom or stepmom would

say in Chinese, more than once. Especially if one the Bruno cousins collided into him. In spit the

fact that Joey Bruno was actually playing on his team, Joey seemed more inclined to assist his

cousin Mikey and Billy Mania who were on the opposing team.

After his fourth knockdown by one of the Bruno cousins, Nathaniel's peekoo hurt so

much he needed to use his stick to help him pick himself up. Regaining his bearings he ignored

76

the pain he was in and took chase after Billy Mania who had possession of the small leather ball

and was heading for Nathan's team's goal post. The Bruno cousins ran a forward guard action for

Billy as they advanced across the playing field. Spotting Nathan catching up to Billy from

behind, the Bruno cousins turned and ran back towards Nathan to block him from intercepting

Billy.

"Joey, you're on my team!" Nathan yelled to the large mountain of a boy as he charged

towards them.

That seemed to knock some sense into Joey, who suddenly turned against his cousin

Mikey knocking him down so Nathan could run passed them.

Rodrigo was protecting their goal hoping he could block Billy's shot. Billy put all his

might into his stick to hurl the ball into their goal post. Just as the ball was about to be released

from Billy's lacrosse stick Nathan hit Billy stick hard causing Billy to hurl the ball deep into the

woods and away from the goal post.

"Great! That is the only ball we have." Billy scolded Nathan.

"I'll go get it." Nathan had his hands on his knees as tried to regain his breath from his

mad dash to intercept Billy.

"Are you nuts?" Rodrigo asked Nathan.

"What?" Nathaniel confused turned to Rodrigo. "I just prevented him from scoring."

"No, not that. Going into the woods after the ball."

Nathaniel looked at Billy for some support in reason.

"It is the seventh of November" Billy replied instead.

"So?" Nathan questioned.

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"It is almost sunset." Rodrigo walked up to Nathan as the other players also gathered

around the boys.

"Yeah his ghost will be playing from the old church soon. For her." Joey Bruno turned

white over the thought.

"Don't be silly, my dad and I already proved there was nothing behind the story of her."

"He may have proved a raccoon ate the ice-cream the night you did your experiment, but

that didn't prove there is no ghost." Bruce handed a water bottle to Billy. Bruce had not been

playing, but was the unofficial water boy for Billy.

"You can't prove a negative." Billy wiped some spilled water from his lips as he looked at

Nathan.

"That is true." Margret answered as she and Michelle joined the boys on the field. "You

can only prove if something exists. You cannot logically prove that something does not exist."

"That would mean no matter how often I prove something has a reasonable explanation

to it, I could never prove there are no ghosts?" Nathan rubbed his peekoo that was still very sore.

"Yes, exactly. For example, no matter how much science may prove the creation of the

universe, and the evolution of life. It can never prove there isn't a God." Margret seriously

explained as she pushed her glasses up a bit on her nose. "It is why the majority of people in the

world still believe in a God. The Big Bang may have started everything, but who or what set off

the Big Bang?"

"God." Rodrigo answered.

"Let there be light." Billy quoted Genesis. "Big Bang."

Nathan looked confused that Billy Martin, of all people, would be quoting the Bible.

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"We all heard the pipe music on Halloween night." Margret reminded Nathan "The

raccoon only proved a raccoon ate the ice-cream that night. It did not explain away what we

heard."

"She has a point." Rodrigo supported Margret "No matter how smart raccoons are they

can't play pipe organs. And it doesn't mean she is not eating the ice-cream on the new moons."

"I heard what you all heard. It didn't sound like music to me." Michelle came to Nathan's

side. "I'll go with you to get the ball. I am not afraid anymore."

"This I got to see." Billy turned to the cousins "We're going with them."

The two cousins jaws dropped as they looked at Billy in disbelief and then at each other.

" I think I hear uncle Ronnie calling us." Joey suddenly regained control of his lower jaw.

"I heard him too." Mikey confirmed as the two large boys quickly took off towards home

before Billy could challenge their hearing anything.

"I'll go with Billy, I am not afraid." Bruce stepped up.

Billy looked unimpressed at Bruce "That so reassuring."

"So, shall we go get your ball?" Nathan challenged Billy.

"Sure. Why not."

"You're all crazy." Rodrigo still could not forget the ghost stories he grew up with and the

sound they heard from those woods on Halloween night. He picked up his gear and started to

head home. "It is getting dark anyway." The other boys took their gear and followed Rodrigo off

the field.

Only Nathan, Michelle, Margret, Billy, and Bruce remained.

Michelle turned to Margret. "You'll go with us? I thought you said there is ghost."

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Margret looked a bit disappointed at Michelle. "Just because I acknowledge that you

cannot disprove a negative, doesn't mean I belief in what has not been proven. Besides, if Nathan

is going I feel safe."

"Well I feel safe if Billy is going." claimed Bruce.

The others looked at Bruce strangely for his outburst.

"Well I recommend we go now, before it does get too dark. Not because I'm afraid of

some dead love sick ghost, but I fear we won't be able to find the ball in the dark." Nathan

pickup his lacrosse stick and headed towards the woods that were clearly getting darker as the

sun began setting behind them.

Billy followed with Bruce and the two girls close behind him. Billy took out his smart

phone hoping to capture the moment Nathan loses his nerve and panics with fear. His desire to

post Nathaniel losing it on the Net overwhelmed any of his own personal concerns of entering

the woods on the Seventh of November.

Nathan used his lacrosse stick like a machete to clear a path for them through the heavy

underbrush. It was clear to all of them that no one had enter these woods for decades if not for

over a century. The broken branches in the underbrush made it easier for Nathan to track the

trajectory of the ball.

They seemed to have been walking a lot longer than any of them thought they would

have to. Nathan continued to use his lacrosse stick to clear a path for them as he followed the

broken branches deeper into the woods. "Gees, Billy you really chucked this thing."

Billy looked back at Michelle and made a muscle with his right arm as he smiled at her.

Michelle responded by rolling her eyes at him.

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Bruce boldly reached out and squeezed Billy's bicep. "Hard as a rock."

Billy jerked away his arm. " I wasn't trying to impress you."

Bruce lowered his eyes as the two girls lightly giggled "Sorry, Billy."

"Finally." Nathan announced to the others as they entered a small clearing near a stream

that most likely fed into the river. "There it is." Nathan emerged from the bush as the others

followed him. Conveniently a single shaft of the late afternoon sun spot-lighted the ball.

"Well done, Nathan. You're a natural born tracker." Michelle praised Nathan.

"I learned how from my dad reading me the Last of the Mohicans."

"I saw the movie." Bruce announced. "It's an old movie made before we were born,

sometime in the 1990's"

"According to my Dad it is recent. There was a black and white version done way back in

the 1930's and the first version was a silent movie."

"Wow, that's ancient." Bruce responded.

"Last of the Mohicans by James Fennimore Cooper, actually there has been a total of six

film versions of the novel made. The book was written way back about the same time as your

factory was built." Margret checked the net on her smart phone. "1826. It was one of the first

historical novels and is a classic of American literature..." Margret then shook her smart phone

"That's strange."

"What's strange?" Michelle asked.

"I just lost my signal. One moment I had full bars, now nothing."

A strong Northern breeze blew through the trees. They could see the branches above and

around them sway with the wind. Nathan turned his attention back to the ball, but could not find

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it. The shaft of sunlight was gone. Ahead of them on the other side of the small stream they

could hear it. A Pipe organ.

"It's him." Billy backup away from the sound of the pipe organ. Bruce backed up with

him in the direction they had come.

Nathan and the girls stood their ground. They listened carefully.

"That isn't Handel's Sarabande." Nathan responded to the pipe organ sound.

"It doesn't sound like any song." Michelle agreed. "Just random noise."

"It sure sounds like a church pipe organ." Billy was already half way back towards the

opening in the brush that Nathan had cleared earlier.

"It does, but it is not music." Nathan took several steps towards the music.

"Nathan?" Michelle was scared again.

He turned to face her "I don't think it is him. The stories are he plays Handel's Sarabande.

That is clearly not the Sarabande."

"Perhaps he is only tuning up before actually playing the piece." Billy suggested,

stepping back even further and forgetting all about retrieving his ball.

Nathan jumped over the small stream. He too forgot about the ball for he was determined

to find the source of the pipe organ sound. He held his lacrosse stick up almost as if were a

weapon to protect him against whatever might be in the trees on the other side of the small

stream. He turned to see that Billy and Bruce had already taken off down the path. Michelle and

Margret had not moved, they seemed frozen, too scared to move forward, but neither wanted to

abandon Nathan.

"Nathan, please." Michelle begged him. "Let's head back."

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Margret surprisingly made a decision on her own. She too jumped the small stream and

joined Nathan on the other side. "I'll go with you, Nathan."

Nathan acknowledged Margret joining him with a silent nod of his head and smile. He

then looked back to Michelle "I need to know the truth. Go back with Billy and Bruce. It's ok."

Michelle did not answer him. Instead she closed her eyes and took in several deep

breaths. Suddenly she opened her eyes and made a running jump across the stream to join

Nathan and Margret. "I guess I am curious too."

"Then let's go before we lose all our light." Nathan continued south into the brush, once

again cutting a trail with his lacrosse stick as he followed the sound of the pipe organ. The girls

stayed close behind him, first Michelle, and then Margret. The pipe organ sound got louder and

louder as they made their way deeper into the woods.

It was not long before they entered another clearing. Within in the center of the clearing

was a stone church covered and strangled by the same kind of vines that held the waterwheel into

place. Between them and the church was an overgrown graveyard.

"We are standing in a graveyard." Michelle froze where she stood.

Nathanial bent down and cleared the brush from one of the tombstone in front of him. He

began to read it. "Here lies Davy Jones, 1798-1847, Shot dead for cheating in cards."

"Davy Jones? Wasn't he one of the Monkey's from that old T.V. show back in the

1960's?" asked Margret.

"I am sure this is a different Davy Jones." Nathaniel cleared another tombstone. "R.I.P.

Abigail Mania, 1820-1836, died during childbirth."

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Michelle approached the tomb that Nathanial just read to read it for herself "You think

she was related to Billy Mania?"

Margret stood next to her to read the tombstone too as Nathanial moved to another and

cleared it of underbrush. "His family, as far as I know, has always been in this town."

Nathanial read the next one, closer to the old stone church. "Ronald Lancaster, 1810-

1859, Shot in the back of the head, assailant unknown."

"That's horrible."

"Perhaps he deserved it." Nathanial answered Michelle.

"How could you say that?" She was surprised by Nathan's callousness to such a horrible

death.

"I don't know. It is just a feeling."

Margret had cleared another gravestone. "Christina Chenburg, 1814-1859, hung by a mob

for being a witch."

"Hung for being a witch?" Michelle walked up to the gravestone Margret just read. "I

thought they didn't kill people for being witches back in the nineteenth century? Weren't the

Salam Witch Trials near Boston and in the seventeenth century?"

"That is what I thought, but that is what it says 'hung by a mob for being a witch, 1859."

Margret out loud read it again.

Nathanial stood next to the girls to also look at the gravestone of Christina Chenburg. "I

am pretty sure your right, Michelle. They hadn't hung witches for centuries. She must have been

a truly horrible woman for them to think her a witch in the nineteenth century." Nathanial look

around at all the gravestone around them "I really don't have a good feeling about any of the

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people that are buried here. I cannot explain it, but it is a strong feeling that none of them were

good people."

Michelle took Nathan's and Margret's arms "I feel the same. Even that Ronald guy. I

think you are right. He deserved his death."

"Listen." Margret interrupted them.

Michelle and Nathan both looked up at the trees around the small clearing and listened.

"It stopped. The wind and the pipe organ music." Nathan answered.

Just as they noticed that it had stopped, the Northern winds began to rustle the trees

again. It was colder than before, and they noticed that darkness was creeping even closer. The

pipe organ sound was even louder as it radiated from the old stone church. Nathan handed his

lacrosse stick to Michelle as he approached the church and began pulling the vines away from

the double wooden doors. The doors were so moldy that as he grabbed the brass handles to swing

them open they crumbled before them. The church pipe organ was even louder now as it echoed

from darkness within.

Margret reached into her book bag and pulled out the largest flashlight Michelle or

Nathan had ever seen. They both looked surprised that she would be carrying such a large and

heavy flashlight with her.

"You never know." she answered their puzzled expressions turning on her flashlight. She

was aiming it directly into Nathan's face blinding him with the light.

"Don't point that at me." Nathan put his hand up to block the powerful light.

Margret moved the beam away from Nathan's face and directed it inside the old church

"Sorry."

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Adjusting his eyes Nathan gestured for Margret to hand him the flashlight. "Perhaps it is

better if I go first?"

Margret agreed with Nathan handing him her flashlight.

He did not expect it to be so heavy "Gees, Margret, you carry this around with you every

day?"

"My dad is a survivalist. I even have three days worth of food, water purification tablets,

twenty-five feet of rope, compass, two flares, rape whistle, emergency poncho, first aid kit, a

Swiss army knife..."

"How do you have room for your school books?" Michelle asked Margret.

"I have them all on my smart phone and about 100 other books."

"Since 9/11 how do they let you bring a Swiss army knife and flares to school?" Nathan

asked.

"They're not weapons, Nathan, their tools for survival."

"What is your dad worried about, a terrorist attack?" Michelle asked "Natural disaster?"

"A zombie apocalypse?" Nathan asked.

"No, nothing like that." Michelle answered.

"Then what?" they both questioned her.

"The second dark ages."

"The second dark ages?"

"Yeah, my dad is convince that America is decline and we will enter a second dark ages

with the collapse of the United States."

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Michelle and Nathan did not know what was stranger. The pipe organ music they were

still hearing from the old church or Margret's dad worrying about the collapse of the United

States.

"As bad as things may be. America has been through worse, and the rest of the word is

not that much better according to my dad." Nathan tried to assure Margret "My dad says as long

as we have the freedom to voice our concerns, and can vote out bad leaders, we still have hope."

"Well I hope your dad is right." Margret replied as she took out a normal sized flashlight.

"You have two flashlights?" Michelle was surprised.

"Yeah, my backup, in the handle it also contains a couple of candles and waterproof

match sticks."

"We should start calling you Margret Bond triple zero." Nathan joked "So are we ready to

investigate?"

The girls stood behind him. Their conversation with Margret made them feel less scared

to face what was causing the sound of the church pipe organ. They had an unwarranted belief

that whatever they might be facing Margret would have something in her bag to deal with it.

Shining their flashlights into the small church the pipe music stopped again. The inside of the

church still had its wooden pews although they were partially covered with vegetation that had

pushed their way through the cracks of the stone tile floor. On either sides of them were stain

glass windows that depicted scenes from the bible. The first one on their left was Adam and Eve

picking the fruit from the tree of knowledge. The devil as a snake was wrapped around the tree

encouraging them to take a bit. The opposite window showed Noah on the ark with all the

animals, the heavens opening with sunlight and dove with a olive branch in its beak returning to

Noah's out reached hand.

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"These are beautiful." Margret pointed her smaller flashlight at the stain glass windows.

The next two windows illustrated stories from the New Testament. The first was the birth

of Jesus in the manger with Mary and Joseph. The three wise men bearing their gifts stood over

him with the barn animals.

"I understand gold, but what was frankincense and myrrh?" Michelle asked looking at the

stain glass window.

"I still can't a signal." Margret looked at her smart phone.

"Frankincense was from a tree, it was used like a perfume. Myrrh was also from a plant

and was used as an incent. If I remember correctly." Nathan answered.

Michelle and Margret looked at him surprised he would even know that.

"I didn't know you were religious." Michelle answered.

"I am not, but my dad strongly believes if you want to understand Western culture, the

bible is a must read."

"I don't believe in that stuff." Michelle replied.

"Do you believe Harry Potter is real?" Nathan asked.

"No, of course not."

"But you read all the books, yes?"

"Yes." she understood his point.

They turned their attention to the opposite window that was still catching the last rays of

the sun. It was Jesus, healing the sick. A lamb stood beside him.

"What does the lamb mean?" Margret asked Nathan.

"I don't know."

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"I thought you knew everything." Michelle seemed disappointed that Nathan did not have

the answer to Margret's question.

Nathan looked at Michelle seriously "If I thought I knew everything, I would clearly

know one thing less than everyone else."

The girls smiled to his response.

"There is one thing I do know."

"What's that?" both girls asked.

Nathan shined his larger flash light around them, the floor, the pews, the walls, even the

valuated ceiling above them held up by large oak beams. "There never was a fire in this church."

"The Ice-cream man lied?" Michelle asked.

"I don't think he did. He clearly believed the stories he heard. I sure he has never had the

courage to come here, or anyone else from the village. It seems we are the first people to enter

this church in over a century." Nathan looked at the girls again. "Whatever the reason was that

caused these people to stop attending, it was not because there was a fire. Something else scared

them off." Nathan shined the large flash light around them, revealing more of the church hidden

in the dark.

The beam finally highlighted a small tree in front of them. It was growing in place of the

alter. Directly behind the small tree, on the church's north wall, was a broken stain class window

of a picture of Mary and the baby Jesus. A large tree branch had broken through the window

decades ago, dividing mother from child.

Nathan turned the flashlight beam back to the small tree in front of them. He had the

beam climb up the tree. Near the top, behind the branches, a face twisted in anguish appeared.

They all screamed in fright.

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"It's ok." Nathan calmed himself illuminating the face. "It's just the church's crucifix."

Michelle took in a deep breath of relief. "What's that smell?"

"I smell it too." Nathan wrinkled his nose as he sampled the air of the old church.

"That's me." Margret explained "When I get scared I often pass wind."

"It doesn't smell like a fart." Nathan took more sniffs towards Margret confirming that the

scent was coming from her. "It smells like freshly baked bread."

Michelle also took in deeper sniffs towards Margret "It smells wonderful."

"It's my new invention." Margret proudly announced.

"New invention?"

"Yes, I created an underpants that uses chlorine and charcoal to remove the order of the

sulfide that causes the odor when people pass wind. The remaining gasses trigger the sent pack

also sewn into the undergarment. The one I am wearing today is called 'morning bread' I also

developed other scents; pine forest, cinnamon buns, lemon drops, and red roses."

"Have to admit, it's the best fart I ever smelled." Nathan laughed.

"My product motto is 'Farfumes; never be embarrassed in an elevator again."

As the scent of Margret's 'morning bread' dissipated the musky mildew odors of the

derelict church returned. Nathan turned his attention back to the broken stain glass window

behind the tree alter. "Nature seems to also have a stranglehold here too."

"Much like the water wheel." Michelle understood his meaning.

"Yes." he responded to her, focusing his flashlight on the large tree branch that grew into

the building through the stained glass window. He moved the light along the north wall finally

finding the church pipe organ in the northwest corner. Although the wood of the organ has

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succumbed to the decades of time and the return of nature into the building. Its brass pipes were

laid against the corner of the wall in a disarray.

"There is no way anyone has been able to play that for a very long time."

At that moment a strong northern wind through the broken stained glass window, The

pipes began to play as the wind circulated threw them.

"I think we found our pipe organ player." Margret pointed her smaller flashlight at the

pipes, they all could see the moss growing on them move with the strong wind and the sound of

the eerie disjointed music.

"Nature." Nathan answered.

Margret took out her smart phone and began to video record the pipes as she panned her

flashlight and camera in the direction of the broken window, the branch's few leaves moved also

with the northern wind and the 'music.'

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Chapter Eight - The Library

Chapter Nine - The Next New Moon.

A half a month had passed without any further incidents. The Ice-cream man though still

returned with his offer of ice-cream that month. Even though most in the town knew of the

experiment that it was raccoons eating the ice-cream, many in the town, especially those who

were older, did not want to take the risk of not putting out the monthly offer to her. This time

though to help convince people it was not a ghost eating the ice-cream, Nathaniel's dad had the

ice-cream man agree to place the box in the center of ring of flour. It was a still night, so it was

perfect for his Dad's newest experiment to disprove the supernatural.

The next morning, as his father had predicted, the foot prints of a raccoon were easily

detected in the flour. The ice-cream man felt foolish as he retrieved the empty ice-cream box.

"Hadn't you noticed the foot prints when you put the box in the snow?" asked Nathaniel.

"Just never put it together." replied the ice-cream man "I always thought it was just

natural there would be animal prints in the snow, never thought they were smart enough to

unlatch the box and that they were the one's actually eating the ice-cream."

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Nathaniel took pictures of the foot prints to bring to his school. His father suggested they

also send new photo and the picture they took last month of the Raccoon to the local paper.

"Even with this much proof. I still think the majority of people will not want to end the

tradition of the offering to her." The Ice-cream man retrieved his box and empty ice-cream bowl.

"I think he is right." Michelle's step-dad agreed "Once people are set in their traditions

and beliefs, no matter how much evidence you may present to them, they will not give up those

engrained beliefs. Look at how many people still believe in creationism."

"Creationism?" asked Michelle.

"It is the strict belief that we were all created by a creator. They do not believe in

evolution in spite of all the scientific proof." Her step-dad explained.

"You have people that still actually believe the world is only six-thousand years old.

According to science the Earth alone is at least four and half billion years old. The universe is

over thirteen billion years old." Nathaniel's dad explained further "There is much physical

evidence to support these numbers, yet those that believe strongly in their faith still will not give

up their belief that the world was created in less than one week over six-thousand years ago."

"I am afraid, I am going to still need to come out here every month with the offering."

The ice-cream man replied.

"I am afraid so, but hopefully as the new generation will embraces proof over blind faith,

it will change." Nathaniel's Dad tried to assure the ice-cream man. "Time is always on the side of

truth. Sooner or later, most people will realize the truth as long as there are those not afraid to

speak out for the truth."

"At least we no longer live in a time when they burnt you to the stake for questioning the

faith of the times." Added Michelle's step-dad.

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"'Anyone who thinks they can find truth from reading only one book, be it a holy

scripture or a political manifesto, do not, and will not, ever get close to knowing the truth.'"

responded Nathaniel's dad.

"Isn't that a Joe Saying?" responded Michelle's step-father.

"Yes, you read his book of quotations?"

"I just finished it. One of my co-workers recommended it to me." Michelle's step-dad

answered "I didn't agree with all his sayings, but most I found very very interesting."

Nathaniel not understanding what the adults were talking about interrupted "Dad, we

really should get to school."

His dad looked at him "Have a good day. both of you." he then turned his attention back

to Michelle's step-father to continue their conversation. To Nathaniel's surprise it seemed the ice-

cream man had also read this book of sayings and had joined in their conversation. He thought

perhaps he should also read the book as he looked to Michelle to begin their walk to school.

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Chapter Nine - The Library

Chapter Ten - The Rains

Walking off the front porch of the Millers’ home, Nathaniel felt a drop of rain on his

face. He looked up at the source of the rain drop. The sky had darkened greatly during their time

at the Millers. More rain drops hit his face. “I suggest we hurry home. It seems we are going to

have some rain.”

The two rushed across the main road which by the time they reached it was already

covered with a film of water. Their feet splashed with each step as they ran back to their side of

the road. At least a half an inch of water was already on the ground as the rain intensified and the

wind began to pickup from the east. By the time they did reach the main entrance of their

building they were both soaking wet.

“I think I will go straight home and take a hot bath.” stated Michelle as she tried to ring

out her water drenched clothing.

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“That came out of nowhere.” Nathaniel looked up at the dark storm clouds and the

extremely heavy rain pouring down from the heavens. He noticed that the runoff was already

filling up the river. He would guess that the water level of the river had risen at least two inches

in only a few minutes.

For the next two nights and days it rained. On Friday Nathaniel and Michelle had on rain coats,

umbrellas, and rubber boots. All the gutters along the road were small rivers and the rain waters

were filling up the small river. When they reached the bridge to cross over to their side of the

river, the water in the river was less than a foot from spilling over the bridge itself. The waters

were also moving fast as they flowed down river. They crossed the bridge quickly while trying to

keep their footing. The rains were pouring heavier than they did that first night.

Once safely to the side they both noticed that the river was already spilling over its banks

on both sides. Water was lapping against the stone walls east wing of the factory that housed the

waterwheel. “The wheel is moving.” Nathaniel noticed walking closer towards it instead of to the

rear entrance of the building.

“You are not going in”? Michelle asked stopping as Nathaniel walked closer to the river

and the waterwheel. Hesitantly she followed him. “I don’t think we should go to close to the

river. Those waters do not look safe.”

“I won’t go to close.” He turned to her. “I just noticed the wheel is starting to move.”

As they both approached closer to the waterwheel the overflowing river was eroding

away the soil the roots of the vines were anchored in. The Vines were losing their ability to hold

the water wheel in place. The rushing waters were also putting great pressure on the wheel. The

rain and winds were increasing. The strong storm waters pushed against the wheel’s paddles

submerged in the river. The wheel was beginning to pull against the vines, assisting in uprooting

them. After over a century locked in place by nature, the forces of nature were setting the wheel

free once again.

“I think the wheel is going to break free!” Nathaniel extremely concerned shouted over

the downpour.

“I don’t think we should be here when it does!” Michelle warned. “That old wooden

wheel may explode apart into a thousand splinters if it does finally break free.”

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Nathaniel turned to her. He looked at her seriously as the rains poured heavily on both of

them and he listened to the uneasy roar of the river along with the creaking sound of the

waterwheel struggling to break free. “I think that is a very good point!”

He turned his back to the river and the waterwheel, leaned into the wind and rainstorm

heading back to the rear entrance of the building. Michelle was right behind him, using Nathaniel

as a shield against the elements as they head quickly to their building.