The Loving Ghost

THE TOUCH OF A LOVING GHOST

The light should not be on in the house. I knew I had switched it off before leaving. These were my thoughts as I approached the house after a night out with the old boys. The night was cold and there was a slight nip in the air or, was I imagining it? Was it cold fear of what I’d find? Or, was it the effect of the drinks we kept on toasting each other with?

I was cautious in my approach to the house not knowing what I might barge into. All the while, my heart kept racing, sweat of fear was beginning to form all over me. An eerie shiver kept going down my spine. I looked around for something to defend myself with, should the need arise, but alas, I could find nothing even primitive enough to look like a weapon. I wanted to avoid the main path that led up to the house, but how ever could I carefully walk up the entrance and avoid detection. Was there danger lurking around the pathway? A mystifying stillness pervaded the atmosphere. There generally were a couple of dogs who occupied my veranda, dogs I kept driving away as they soiled my neatly kept space, but, where were they? Where were the dirty mongrels’ just when I needed them the most?

I stood still for a while, my brain racing to find answers to the very many questions that kept cropping up in my head – but, hey, what’s that noise? Now where did it come from? My brain kept screaming for answers trying to analyse that sound. Did it come from within the house and what sort of noise was it? Nothing, no nothing intelligent was emanating from my cold dumb brain.

I quietly tiptoed up to the house trying my level best not to make any unnecessary sounds. One footfall after the other; holding my breath for fear of being detected. Oh, the chill again traversing my spine, that cold shiver, O Lord, please, I need strength I prayed hoping for divine intervention. The stillness was frightening. I looked around me searching for some comfort, some solace but my looking was in vain. The sound of the wind blowing through the breeze became louder than it usually is. The rustle of dried leaves was a little more eerie.

Hey, that is familiar, the tune, the song, that humming, that voice. I so very much wanted to hum along but my mouth emitted no sounds. I was gripped with fear and a strange feeling of being drawn to that voice. It was so soothing. Was it a ghost, or was it – wait a minute, I know that tune, its Mary, my dearly beloved, my baby, my beautiful wife, has she returned? No, it can’t be. The last time we spoke she was very angry and perturbed with me. It can’t be; it couldn’t be her. My heart began racing, I could feel and hear it so loud. My fear started to change to a longing, a longing to reach out, to reach out to her, to hum along with her like we used to, not very long ago.

I loved my Mary, loved her very dearly. My thoughts kept going back to the times we shared with each other. My fear was temporarily forgotten. Then something moved inside the house. It sounded like somebody was rearranging the furniture. The sound of the swish of her skirt was very audible. But, was it her? No, it can’t be. She went away.

I stood there for a long time listening to that sweet voice. Deep down in my heart I willed it to go away. How can we face each other especially after those hurting words we hurled at each other? No, I wanted her to stay. I wanted to take her into my arms and soothe her troubled mind. There was remorse in me, remorse for the ugly things I made her put up with, for those senseless things I spoke. My heart was aching. I so much yearned for her. Yes it is she and she’s come back to me, come back to stay. But how could it be? Didn’t I receive a letter from the Home, that she was no more? Didn’t I spend the whole of last week with a deep sense of anger in my heart? Anger that she left me? Maybe the message was wrong? Maybe it wasn’t meant for me? Or, has she come to get back at me for all the hurt I made her suffer? No, my Mary would never do that, she could never do that.

I slowly reached into my pocket regardless of my feelings of fear; of longing; of everything I couldn’t imagine, for my keys. My fingers were numb, I tried to grip the keys, but couldn’t. With an exasperated sigh I temporarily gave up and tried to regain my composure. What is it? Why, O why am I feeling the way I am? That voice again, humming the same old song we used to sing together. O Mary, is that you? An ache so severe began in my broken heart. My mind was in turmoil. I couldn’t think straight. Why, O why, did these things happen between us?

I reached into my pocket again, this time slowly and carefully. I took out my keys. My hands were shivering making it difficult to hold on to the keys. Selecting the door key from the bunch, I found it very difficult to put it into the lock. I must get in; I must try and patch up with her, with my Mary. Trying to make the least noise, I got the key into the lock. Now which way do I turn it to open the lock. I tried this way and that and eventually I managed to open the door. The humming stopped. Dead silence. I slowly opened the door. The creak seemed so loud; I almost jumped out in shock. That perfume, the perfume Mary, my Mary wore. The scent from the perfume filled the room. I softly called out her name but to no avail. The furniture was rearranged just like the way it used to be when she was here. The sofa was moved to the window and the easy chair, what! My easy chair was removed further down the hall. This had become an issue between us and Mary left in anger.

I called out her name. Ooo; what was that? A chill feeling just as though a cold hand had touched my cheek. Mary, are you here, I asked. I so very much wanted to say how much I love her; I wanted to tell her all those lovely things we said to each other not so long ago.

I walked ever so slowly from one room to the other. Somebody has been here. To my utter surprise everything looked so neat like somebody had cleaned the place. All my clothes lay neatly folded by the bedside. I called out her name, Mary, Mary; there was a longing, a hope in my heart that she would come to me; she would respond and I would be able to hold her in my arms. No answer, no sound only stillness and silence. The fear I felt before was gone. It was replaced with regret, regret for all those horrible words I used, the ugly things I said. I knew my Mary wouldn’t hurt me. I knew she came back because she cared. With a heavy heart I walked to my favourite chair which, my Mary had moved. I had neither anger now nor malice towards her only a deep sense of remorse.

I set myself down on my easy chair, a sense of despair within, and I couldn’t hold back my tears. I held my face in my hands and cried like I never did before no, not even when I got the news of her passing away.

I could picture every moment I spent with my Mary. I felt guilty that it was I who drove her away, away to her death. Forgive me Mary, I cried. Please forgive me. The pain I felt slowly began to leave me. This was replaced by a calm that I could feel in my heart. A calm that touched me; touched my soul. The tears stopped. I knew my Mary had forgiven me. Once again I called her name and this time I heard her say to me. I love you, my darling. I’ll always be there for you. Her cold and loving hands touched my cheek. Mary, my Mary cared, she really cared for me. The hands of my loving ghost, Mary touched me. I knew she will always be there for me.

By Sebastian Anchees (India)

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