Lenora's Ghost

This is another story I wrote for my writing class. This one is also very very loosely based on a story my grandmother used to tell us about when she was a kid growing up as an undertaker’s daughter. I have no idea what the house they lived in was like so I greatly embellished the details but the idea is based on the real story. This photo is what I based my description of the house on. Isn’t it beautiful? I want to live in it.

It's May 10, 1915 and today is my ninth birthday. My mother is letting me have my first birthday party and I hope the girls I’ve invited will come. My family just moved to Martinsburg six months ago and it has been difficult making friends. When your father is an undertaker and you live above the funeral parlor where your father works, kids don’t really want to spend a lot time in your house. I can’t blame them.

My father bought the business from the family who had owned it for almost 30 years. The house, built in 1882 is, as Mother explained, called a Queen Anne style house. To me it looks like a gigantic gingerbread house painted gray. The window trim, balusters and the ornate trim along the roof and front porch are painted white and a deep blood red. The front steps lead directly up to the front door where this is a small covered stoop. There is a veranda accessible only from the main parlor where mourners can sit and rest when the weather is warm. There is also a large bay window on the side of the house next to the veranda. There is a four story tower that rises above the front door with a widow’s walk on top but Mother has never let me go up to the fourth floor or up on the widow’s walk. I imagine the view must be amazing from up there. I’m not sure why it’s called a widow’s walk but it is kind of funny to have something called a widow’s walk on a funeral parlor. I must say, it is one of the nicest houses in town and looks very regal. If only it wasn’t a funeral parlor.

I didn’t sleep well last night and woke up very early. It must be because I am so nervous about the party today. Even though it is so early the town is coming to life. Sitting on my bed looking out the window, I can see a few of the shop owners preparing their shops down the street for the day’s business even though the sun isn’t yet fully over the horizon. Mr. Clancy is placing large baskets of bright red and yellow apples, oranges and even some exotic looking pineapples out on the front stoop in hopes of luring customers into the King Street Emporium. Across the street from the Emporium, Mrs. McAllister is sweeping the dirt from the floor of her dress shop out the front door, onto the sidewalk and then out into the street. She calls out a greeting to Mr. Clancy. I can’t hear what she is saying but I can see her smile and wave. From the other direction I can hear the steady clip clop of horse’s hooves on the brick pavement and turn to see Mr. Burke’s ice wagon being pulled by a lovely grey Percheron making their way into town. I see Mr. Rockwell carefully maneuvering his milk wagon around the ruts in the street so as not spill any of the bottles of fresh milk his 10 cows gave him this morning. He has two majestic Clydesdales pulling his wagon.

The sun is finally up now and my room is filled with a heavenly glow. I decide it’s time to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast.

“Mother, since it’s my birthday and it’s so nice outside, can eat my breakfast on the veranda? There is no one in the parlor so it wouldn’t be disrespectful to anyone.” I ask.

“I don’t see why you can’t eat your birthday breakfast outside on such a warm day. I sure your father won’t object. Why don’t you go ask him if he would like to join you on the veranda and have a cup of coffee? I’ll bring it out to you as soon as it is ready.” She says smiling. “But remember you still have chores to do even if it is your birthday.” She adds.

Since Mother seems to be in an agreeable mood I decide to ask another question. “Can I explore the tower later? I’ve never been up there and I promise I’ll be careful.” I ask tentatively.

“Perhaps if your older brother agrees to go with you.” She replies.

“Mother, I’m nine years old now. I don’t need George to go with me.” I complain.

“You are right. Maybe I will even have you start going up there a couple times a week and keep the room tidy and dusted just in case we get company that needs to sleep there.” She said.

“Thanks Mother!” I exclaim as I leave the room to go out on the veranda. I am excited about the idea of finally getting to go up to the tower room but I really didn’t want another chore in the bargain.

It’s a glorious day and I’m glad I asked to have breakfast on the veranda. Along the fence by the sidewalk there is a sea of yellow because the forsythia bushes are in full bloom. The lilacs bushes along the veranda fill the air with their sweet scent and I close my eyes and take it in. A pair of cardinals in the big oak tree is busy talking to each other. As I listen to their conversation I decide it sounds as if they are calling, “Vir-gin-ia, Vir-gin-ia”.

Father comes through the door and sits on the swing. I turn from the spot where I had been standing taking in the sights and smells of our home to greet him.

“Happy Birthday, Lenora.” He says happily. “Are you excited about your party this afternoon?”

“Oh yes.” I reply. “I just hope everyone will come and not be afraid of the dead people in the basement.”

Father worked on the bodies in the basement before bringing them up to the parlor for viewings. I never go down there!

“Well, there aren’t any dead people in the basement at the moment. So I don’t think it should be a problem.” He replies.

“You know that and I know that but they don’t know that!” I say “Everyone is always teasing me about having dead people in the basement of my house.”

“It will be a lovely party I’m sure.” Father says. “Here comes your mother with breakfast and when we are finished you can get to your chores and then get ready for the party.”

After breakfast I finish my chores in record time. “Mother, do want me to go clean up the tower room now?” I ask.

“Yes go ahead but don’t take too long. “she says.

I run up stairs two at a time and almost trip on the hem of my dress on the way up. When I get to the top of the stairs I pause. Something has always seemed kind of mysterious about this room. The previous owner moved out and left the bedroom fully furnished.

I am surprised when I open the door to find that it looks as if someone had been lying on the bed. I am pretty sure no one ever comes up here. “I must remember to ask mother about the bed when I go back downstairs.” I say to myself.

As soon as I am finished dusting the furniture and straightening up the bed I leave the room, closing the door behind me. I sprint up the steps to the widow’s walk and step out into the bright sun. You can see the whole town from here. I can see the roofs of most of the buildings on King Street and the tall steeples of the Methodist and Catholic churches as well as the roof of the school house which is next to the Presbyterian Church on Winchester Avenue. In the distance I can even see the railroad yards and I think about all the travelers passing through our small town on their way to someplace great like New York or Chicago.

As I head back down the stairs, I pause outside the tower room thinking about the messed up bed. “That really is very strange.” I think again.

I find Mother in the kitchen and I ask her about the tower room.

“George has probably been sneaking up there to read or something.” She explains.

George, who just walked through the back door and heard the conversation says, “I’ve only been up in the drab old room twice; just to close the windows. I’ve never even sat on the bed.”

“Well, that is curious then.” Mother shrugs with a puzzled look on her face. “You should go get ready for the party. Everything is set up in the yard and the guests should be arriving soon.”

The party is long over and everyone has gone home. Mother calls me in from the stable for dinner and then it’s off to bed. I lie in bed thinking of what a wonderful day it has been. Everyone I invited came to my party and we had a grand time. My thoughts wonder back to the tower room and I wonder why the bed was mussed up like someone had been lying on it. I decide to make it a point to go back up there tomorrow morning and check on it first thing.

First thing next morning, I sneak out of my room and up the stairs to the tower room careful not to let the steps creak on the way. I stand outside the room for a few minutes breathing hard from nerves before opening the door. I almost scream as I notice that again the bed looks as if someone has been lying on it. There is a perfect indentation on the pillow where a head might have lain and the covers are slightly askew. I decide that George is playing a trick on me and so I am not going to say anything to him or to Mother about this. I simply go to the bed, straighten it back up and leave the room.

It’s been three weeks since my birthday and the first time I went into the tower room. I go up there now every morning and straighten the bed and every morning it is mussed up in the exact same way. I know longer think George is playing a trick on me but rather I think one of the dead people decided a long time ago that they liked the house too and didn’t want to leave. I’m sure the previous owner knew this and that’s why he left the room as it is. I think I will keep this from all my new friends. They will never come over to play with me if they know there is a ghost living in our tower.