Chapter 2
Opening the door a crack and shining her flashlight through, Miss Georgia saw the frightened face of Abigail Parks.
“What under the sun?” said Miss Georgia, opening the door wide. “Come in, Abby. What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
Abigail rushed inside and flung her arms around Miss Georgia. “Oh, Georgia, I just had to come. You’re always so sensible.”
Startled, Miss Georgia patted her friend’s back. “Well, of course I’m glad to see you, but what has happened to bring you out here this time of night?”
Abigail hurried to the wood burning stove and rubbed her mittened hands together. “ I don’t know what to tell you that you’ll believe. I hitched a ride out with Ed Sands. He was just returning from the post office.”
Miss Georgia drew an exasperated breath. Abby could never come straight to the point. At least she hadn’t walked. Ed was a friendly and accommodating mail carrier, always ready to give someone a ride.
Miss Georgia tapped her foot, arms folded across her chest. “You know you’re always welcome, Abby.”
Abigail swallowed and took a deep breath. “Do you have any more tea?” she asked.
“Of course.” Miss Georgia bustled into the kitchen and soon returned with a steaming cup. “Sit right there by the fire now and tell me what’s so important. Is everything all right at your house?”
Abigail gazed into her cup. When she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. “No, my house is not all right, or maybe it’s me that’s not. Strange things have been happening. I keep losing things. I’ll put down a hair brush and then, when I go to use it, it’s gone. I took my enamel brooch off my dress after church last Sunday—you know—the one Mama gave me, then later when I went to put it away, I couldn’t find it for love nor money. Even my…well, Georgia, you know that sometimes I wear a little hair piece to sort of fill out my hair, and, even it has disappeared.”
Miss Georgia nodded. If Abigail couldn’t find her hair piece, things were indeed serious. “We all forget things,” she said, hoping to sound helpful. “It’s just a part of getting a little older, bad as I hate to admit it.”
Abigail swallowed a gulp of tea. “That’s not all. I’ve been hearing things. I hear bumping and knockings and sometimes I hear what sounds like somebody walking around upstairs and there’s not a soul on the place except me. Tonight, the noises got so bad, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to get out. You see, Georgia, I’m either losing my mind or there’s a ghost in my house.”
Speak Your Mind