Avi

word craft

blog

Do I believe in ghosts?

ghostI have just sent in a new col­lec­tion of short sto­ries to my edi­tor. As yet unti­tled, it con­tains a ghost sto­ry. In 2016, a ghost sto­ry nov­el will be pub­lished. I have pub­lished oth­er ghost sto­ries, Some­thing Upstairs, Seer of Shad­ows, and there is a ghost short sto­ry in the col­lec­tion Strange Hap­pen­ings. No sur­prise then, then from time to time, I am asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?” My stan­dard answer is, “No, but I believe in ghost stories.”

Except …

I was about nine­teen, vis­it­ing Maine with my par­ents. It was sum­mer. We were head­ing home to NYC. I must have looked at a map because I real­ized that as we passed through the west­ern out­skirts of Boston, I was direct­ly east of where my favorite aunt and uncle lived, just across the Mass­a­chu­setts bor­der. “Let me out,” I announced, “I’m going to hitch­hike and vis­it Aunt Flossie and Uncle Jer­ry. But don’t tell them. I want to sur­prise them.”

Off I went, hitch­hik­ing across Mass­a­chu­setts, tak­ing most of the day. When I reached the near­est town (in New York state) where they lived, I set out to walk the last few miles. It was about four in the afternoon.

I had walked about three miles along a sin­gle lane road through rur­al coun­try, pret­ty and hilly. Quite sud­den­ly, the sky grew dark. A thun­der­cloud had gath­ered. As the rain start­ed, I stood under a tree to keep dry. It was no more than a sum­mer cloud­burst, soon over.

As I stepped out from beneath the drip­ping tree, I real­ized that I was at the bot­tom of a hill, at the sum­mit of which stood a church, one of those clas­sic white, New Eng­land steepled struc­tures. On the hill below was a ceme­tery, replete with old slate stones—old, I knew, because of the way the stones were shaped and titled. I even thought what an odd place for a ceme­tery.

Even as I looked at the ceme­tery, I saw a rec­tan­gu­lar gray-col­ored mist rise up from one the stones. It stopped me cold. My heart pound­ed. I stared. The mist held its human shape for quite a few moments. Then the sun broke through the clouds and the mist fad­ed away.

Quite shak­en, I climbed that ceme­tery hill and exam­ined the stone. It was old, cov­ered with lichens. No ques­tion, the rain caused the phos­pho­res­cent ele­ments in the stone to glow. 

At least, that is what I told myself more than fifty years ago. Except I have nev­er for­got­ten, and the image I saw (and felt) does appear in my ghost sto­ries. So no, I do not believe in ghosts, except …

3 thoughts on “Do I believe in ghosts?”

  1. I was attend­ing pup­pet fes­ti­val at a col­lege in Con­necti­cut, I was walk­ing across the cam­pus to get to the dorm where I was to stay. A girl passed me, she was look­ing down so I did­n’t see her face, she was mov­ing fast, I said hel­lo but she did­n’t seem to hear me. When I got to the dorm, as it was sum­mer and there were no class­es, just groups like mine, I told the per­son check­ing me in about the girl. Oh, she said, you’ve met our cam­pus ghost.

    Reply
  2. I love that you put this expe­ri­ence in writ­ing! And I’m glad that you’re leav­ing the door slight­ly cracked open to the pos­si­bil­i­ty of ghosts.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Recent Posts