The Stories That Haunt Us by Bill Jessome Page B

“Ain’t progress grand,” she thought, as she made her way to the living room. She stood looking out the window at the dawn, sipping coffee and looking at the vastness of the ocean, when she heard someone behind her whispering. Adeline’s back stiffened. The hand holding the cup began to shake.
    My god , she thought, if I turn—and I must—what will I see?
    Again the whispering. Her heart was racing and she was having difficulty breathing. She finally whirled around to face whatever it was, but there was no one there . How could that be? Adeline wondered. I distinctly heard someone whispering. Maybe somebody got inside and was trying to scare me . The thought angered her, which in turn gave her the courage to call out, “Hello? Hellooo?” No one. She crossed the living room toward the kitchen and was stopped in the doorway by what she saw. Faint at first, the shapes were beginning to appear. They were of eight men seated at a long table, whispering to each other. And it looked like the men had just come in from the rain. Water was dripping from their knee-high black boots onto the floor. Fear filled Adeline’s heart when one of the men turned and looked in her direction. She took a step back. Was he looking at her or someone else? I must be losing my mind. Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? she thought . Is this something out of the past? Ghosts! Oh god, Sandy’s right! The place is haunted.
    Then too, she remembered the dream she had. Now she wasn’t so sure it was a dream at all. Maybe it was these same men arguing during the night while she slept. She stood with her back to the wall, just inches from the open door, and listened while her heart pounded. They were deciding what to do with the body of someone who had stolen something from them.
    â€œThrow ‘im over the cliff,” someone shouted.
    â€œA burial’s too good for the likes of ‘im. Thievin’ from his own.”
    â€œTake ‘im out when we sail on the morning tide and dump ‘im over the side, I says.”
    â€œYou’re the boss, Cap’n Swaine. What do you say?”
    â€œI say we buries ‘im in the secret place in the cellar and we bury the gold under ‘im. No one will ever find ‘im or the gold. And for good measure, I’ll put a curse on them that tries to steal what’s not theirs.” There was hearty agreement to this plan from the other men.
    Adeline looked down, fascinated, as a piece of seaweed floated by in a fine stream of water. She stiffened when she heard chairs being pushed away from the table.
    â€œSo, it’s the cellar for ‘em that try to cheat their mates, right?”
    â€œAye Cap’n, aye!”
    Then there was only silence. Have they gone? She wondered. Should I look? What if they’re there waiting for me to show my face? What will I do then? Should I intervene? Can I intervene? If I do, will they attack me or will they vanish at the sight of someone living?
    Adeline waited and waited but there was nothing but absolute silence. Three, four minutes went by. I just have to find out, she thought to herself. She took in a deep breath and stepped boldly into the kitchen. It was empty. The only evidence that anyone had been there was the eight puddles of water on the floor. Adeline turned and went out the front door, and for the longest time stood staring into the dawn. Now, she thought, now what do I do?
    What she did was go back into the cottage to get her purse and car keys. She then drove down to the village and sat in a coffee shop until the library opened. She also called Sandy. “You were right, the place is haunted,” she said, as soon as Sandy picked up.
    â€œAdeline?”
    â€œYes, it’s me. There were eight of them all seated around my kitchen table discussing ways to get rid of a body and bury gold.”
    â€œIt was only a rumour. I really never believed the place was really haunted. Are