Ghost House

The threadbare fabric in Susan's trousers were almost at the breaking point. It was always like this at the end of the winter season. She had been skating and sledding in the great park almost every day. In the short winter days she was in a hurry to make the most of it. As soon as she came home from school, she put on her skates, sweater, mittens and muffler, and then biked to the part of the great park-like area that was flooded each winter. There she just threw her bike next to the lots of other bikes on the brink, pulled off the skate guards and put them on the rack of her bike and had fun on the ice. But soon, far too soon, the lamps turned on, and it was time to bike home. As usual, Susan's bike lamps were not very good, and in the slippery snow her dynamo was of no use,. She disconnected it for faster speed. But as she biked solely along lit up roads and her reflectors were in place, she did not care. At home she ate a few slices of bread with a hot mug of cocoa and did some homework until Mom returned and it was time to clear the table for dinner.

At dinner everybody told of their day. Susan asked Mom and Dad if tomorrow when it was Saturday and all her friends were going skating in the park until later, she could be allowed to return home later that four o'clock,
"Oh please, Mom," she said, "all my friends are allowed to stay after the lights have come on tomorrow, most of them have a curfew of seven. And I think it is one of the last skating days this winter. Cousin Anna is also coming. May I stay out too?"
"You may," Mom said, "but if you're not home by seven, you'll  be grounded for the rest of the month."
"Thank you!" Susan said. "I will be home at seven at the very latest."
 "Remember to take along a couple of battery lamps with new batteries in them. Your dynamo is no good in the mash along the roads," Mom said, "and you can take the thermos with hot cocoa along."
"Oh, thank you. I will do. I'll go and find some batteries and lamps immediately, so as not to waste my time on that tomorrow."
"Clever thinking," Dad said, a big praise from him.
Linda finished her last bit and said: "I'll have Bente and Karin over tomorrow, if that's OK. The new magazines are out, and there's some make up ideas we want to try out."
"That's fine too," Mom said. I'll be home at around half past four tomorrow. Don't make too much of a mess in the bathroom."
"We'll mostly stay in my room, I think," Linda replied. "Can I take the hallway mirror into my room?"
"Yes you can, and you could ask Dad to bring it up for you tonight, then it's safe."
"Will you, dad, please?" Linda asked.
Dad nodded and rose. "I can do it now, wile your Mom brews the coffee."

The crate with battery lamps was unusually messy, it took a long time for Susan to find a white and a red cover, bulbs and lamps that fit together.
"If you can't find any red lamps you can take some of the red paper from the sardine tins to wrap around one of the white ones," Mom said.
"Is that even legal?" Susan asked.
"I doubt it," Mom answered, "but better than two white lights confusing the cars."
Mysteriously this made Susan and Mom both laugh out loud.

The lessons next day passed excruciatingly slow. But finally the last bell rung. Susan hurried home and put the milk to boil while dressing with an eye on the pot. Milk always boils over when you're not watching. As soon as it boiled, she poured a bit over the cocoa drink powder in the thermos and shook it to dissolve the powder, then she filled up the thermos. She debated with herself whether to bring her magic wand or not. On one side she was not allowed to wear it in public places, and she was not sure she could keep it safe, but on the other side it was not safe at home with her curious sister and her friends either. In the end she decided that taking it along was the better course of action.

She then cleared out her school-bag, put in the thermos, the battery lamps, a spare pair of mittens and her wand. She hung it on the bag hook on the rack and secured it with an end of twine. Then as an afterthought she put her winter boots in the bag as well.
Biking along the long road leading off the main road to the park she spied a girl biking in front of her.
That top hat, Susan thought to herself, and those long braids. It just has to be cousin Anna.
Susan pedalled faster and gained on the girl. Soon she was within hollering distance and called: "Anna, please wait for me!"
It was Anna, who slowed down waiting for Susan. The two girls biked together the last half kilometre. Anna told that her curfew was at seven, same as Susan's.
"Oh, your mom did allow it," Susan said. "Then I did not lie when I said that you were allowed ..."
"I said the same to my mom," Anna said laughing.
Then the roof of the girl scouts' place could be seen over the treetops, Anna and Susan turned right into the park, feeling very lucky to be allowed to stay out for so long this evening.

***

Cousin Anne and Susan placed their bikes at the end of the long row of bikes.
"By Golly," Anne said. "My lock is broken? Do you think it will be stolen, if I do not lock it?"
"I hope not," Susan said, "what about placing my bike on top of yours? That way a thief at least have to lift off my bike to purloin yours?"
"Purloin? Steal you mean. Where do you get all those fancy words?"
"Sorry. It's a craze on that 4H school at my aunt's place. Just like tongue twisters and exotic languages."
"Right up your street, then!" Anne said, "but back to my bike. Do you think it works?"
"It's not a good idea, but it's the best bad idea I've got!" Susan answered with a streaight face. Anne broke down laughing, and Susan lost it too.
When they finally stopped laughing, which was hard, as they began again every time they happened to look at one another, they pulled off their skate guards and joined the other skaters on the ice.  
A good tim was had by all, Cousin Anne was a nimble skater, able to skate backwards and make figure eights on the ice. And she did not fall on her behind every time a dog came a bit too close, which some of Susan's classmates were prone to do. Soon the girls and boys from their classes had made a circle around her, egging her on to always more daredevilish stunts. Cousin Anne ended her impropmtu show with a pirouette and going down in a split.
When Anne rose again the lamps turned on and the skaters began an intricate play of chain-tag on the iice. Susan never really grasped the rules, but as she was not very fast either, she was caught too fast for it to matter much anyhow.
Suddenly a red glow was seen in the skies.
"Fire!" someone yelled.
A lot of the skaters started shouting. "Fire, Fire!" "It's burning." "Call the fire department!"
"It's the Ghost house! It's burning!" Jens yelled. He was one of Susan's classmates.
"Ghost house?" Susan asked, "I did not know we had a ghost house near here."
"Oh yes," Jens answered, "I has been empty for years and years. The windows have been broken, and nobody lives there but old ghosts."
"What now!" Anna said. "None of us live nearby, and we cannot run around to the neighbouring houses in our skates."
"But won't people see the fire and phone the Fire department?" Anne asked.
"I do not think so, no," Jens said. Right now there's sports in the TV, and all fathers sit watching this to see if their team won, or to see if they won a fortune in the pools. The mothers are all cooking, and I guess reading some drivel while waiting for the taters to boil."
Anne began laughing: "Spot on. That's how it looks at home rigth now."
Susan suddenly remembered her boots: "I brought my boots, I can bike off and run to the nearest house!"
"Do it," Anne, Jens and all the other children said.
Susan skated to where the bikes lay, quickly found her boots in her bag. She changed into the boots and jumped on her bike. As fast as possible, without caring about the bike lamps, she biked around the ice on the slippery paths, down another path and then right. She could not see the fire any more over the treees, but she could still smell it. She turned into the road with the burning ghost house and slowed down a bit. The first two houses just opposite the park were dark, but the next one had light streaming out of the door and the blue glow from a TV set in one of the windows. Susan let her bike fall on the pavement and ran up the drive to the house. She banged the door knocker, and not long after a man stood in the door. He looked grumpy, dressed in a white A-shirt and his suspenders hanging down. Susan said: "Sorry to disturb, but the Ghost house is on fire, could you please call the Fire department!"
"Can't do, no phone. Try next door," the man said and almost slammed the door in Susan's face.
Susan left in a hurry, and then she remembered the phone boot. She pedalled as fast as possible past the burning house, where only some smoke could be seen, to the next intersection. The phone booth was unoccupied and Susan jumped indside and closed the door.
Argh! she thought to herself. I have no coins. Then her eye fell on the instructions and saw that the Emergency service was free of charge. She lifted the receiver and upon hearing the carrier wave dialled 0 - 0 - 0. She never felt that the dial had been so slow returning all the way back from the zeroes.
"Emergency service, Alan speaking. How can we help," a calm, male voice sounded from the receiver.
"Hello," Susan said. "The ghost house is on fire."
"The Ghost house?  Sorry I need an address."
Susan did not know the number of the ghost house, but she knew the name of the street it was in. This she told the man. "And I'm calling from the telephone booth nearby."
"What is its phone number. It's written in the small window near where you place the coins. Susan looked and told the number. "Fine, and now your name?"
"Susan Olsen. Will you come, I can see much more smoke now."
"I'll send the fire brigade, don't you worry. But stay in the booth. I'll call back in a few minutes. And the police would like a word with you as well."
"Oh bother!" Susan said. What's the time?"
"A quarter to seven." Alan answered.
"My parents will ground me if I'm home too late." Susan said, almost crying. "I promised."
"I think the police will take you home, so I guess you won't have any problems. I'll call back in a few minutes. You can  start listeneing for the fire engines soon."
Susan hung up and went outside, and sure enough, she heard the sound of the fire engines from the city. The distance to the fire station was very short as the crows flew, but much longer by the roads, Susan heard the sirenes getting further away and then much nearer and very near. And then she saw the blue ligths, and had to put her hands over her ears. She went inside the telephone booth to get away from the sound, and the phone rang.
She picked it up and said: "Susan Olsen speaking."
"Hello again Susan, It's Alan from the Emergency service once again. I can tell you that the fire engines are already on their way."
"They sure are, I can hear them," Susan said. "Thank you!"
"It's us thanking you," Alan said. "Just stay put, the police will be rigth over. Bye and good luck."
Susan saw the police car pulling up next to the booth and went outside.
"Susan Olsen?" the officer said.
"Yes that's me." Susan said trembling. "Are you going to arrest me?"
The police officer laughed. "No, I'm not. That is unless you put a match to that old ghost house. Tell me what happened."
"I was out skating with my classmates and my cousin and some of her classmates too." Susan began, "After it was dark, we played Chain tag, and suddenly someone yelled Fire. We discussed what to do, and Jens - he's my classmate - guessed that none of the neighbours would see the fire, as they were probably watching TV or cooking. I was the only one that had brought my boots, running in skates is difficult, so I biked over here. The first house, I knocked on, they had no phone, but then I remembered seeing this here payphone and went here. And from here I could se no flames, only more and more smoke," Susan ended her story.
The officer asked for and got names and adresses of the class mates. Susan did not know where all of them lived. "I can call the school and ask, if I need it," the officer said, "I have more than enough to check your story should this be necesary."
"Of course ther were also some children I do not know on the ice," Susan said despondently.
"No worries. You're not in any way going to be arrested or anything. If we were to arrest people for calling 000 don't you think people would quickly stop calling, and accidents would become much worse?" the officer said. "You're doing us, and the city a favour by calling, so please, no need to worry. And I can tell you it's not the house proper burning, but an outhouse behind it. Get into the police car and stay there, we'll drive you home, and bring your bike too."
Susan got in, and said hello to the officer behind the wheel. Then she sat in the back seat, trying to be inconspicuous. The other officer took her bike, and placed it in a holder at the rear end of the car, then walked over to the ghost house.

***

Susan was almost frozen long before the officer returned. She actually considered using her snow magic, as the officer in the driver's seat just sat dozing, But she decided against it. When the first officer finally retuned back the one behind the wheel sat up and asked for Susan's address and turned on the car. The flames were already dying down as they drove past the Ghost House.
At home Susan's parents had dinner ready for her. Cousin Anne had had her parents phone Susan's parents, so no scolding happened. And the praise from the policeman made Susan's cheeks fluster.
A big dollop of ice cream rounded off the dinner nicely.

Next morning Susan slept in. When finally she woke from her crazy dreams of ghosts, fires and labyrinthine houses, the weather had changed. It was cold no more and the fog pressed against the windows. She had been right yesterday had been the last skating day that winter.

She savoured her breakfast, steaming hot tea and honeyed toast. She had no plans for this Saturday, except cleaning and wiping down the skates and hanging them on their hook ready for next year. "Or rather," she thought, "ready to go to the used skate-shop in Helsingborg. My feet will have grown again, and I'll have to accept that I can no longer have a pair of nice, white figure skates, but will have to make do with a pair of black hockey ones. It's a bugger being this big." She cleared the table and then spread papers and brought materials for cleaning and polishing the skates. First she pulled out the long, white laces and gave them a good beating and shaking outside. After cleaning and polishing the blades, she tackled he protectors and put then into place and finally the boots proper. "Tomorrow,"  she said, as much to the skates as to herself, "Tomorrow the skates will have dried out, and I'll  rethread the laces, and tie them into a nice, thigh knot. And then, into the cellar you go until next winter," she said. "Thanks for the fun times."

Saturdays meant market, and Susan went there with her mother. It was not big today, and Mum met some of her lady friends and began exchanging news about friends and family. "Mom?" Mom looked at Susan, "I'll go down to the newspaper office and see if there's anything about the fire in today's paper." Mom nodded, and Susan left.
She walked quickly down to the newspaper office. Next to the steps and door leading into the office was a big window. Behind this, today's paper hung like so much laundry on strings fastened with pegs and Susan looked at the pages until she found the story at the bottom of page 13. No photos, only a short mentioning, which did not tell Susan anything she did not know, except for the street number of the Ghost house.
Susan had a bizarre itch to go and see the Ghost house once again.

***

Susan left the newspaper office behind. Retracing her steps she found Mom still entangled in conversation with that other lady.
"I'll go home now, Mom," Susan said.
Mom smiled at her, nodding towards the grocery bags: "Please take the bags home," and continued listening to the talkative lady.

At home Susan had to put down the bags and go for the spare key in the niche to unlock the door. On the kitchen table was a note from Dad: The friendly farmer, who promised Linda a ride on his horses last winter, phoned shortly after you left. We went there. Be home for dinner.
Susan put the groceries where they belonged and walked up the stairs to the attic. She had to talk to Persephone, the girl ghost living there. She sat down by the small table in the guest room, looking at all the bottles, necklaces, seashells, and beads decorating the room. Mom had declared it a bit over the top, and had told Susan that the decorations would have to be pulled down whenever Granny came visiting. Percy the ghost loved everything shiny, and it was Susan's daily duty to dust or bring fresh flowers or new items to the small room. The newest addition was a glass bubble string. Each bead mirrored the rest, so the the string of glass beads seemed to stretch into infinity when you gazed into it, It mirrored and broke the sunlight making tiny rainbow coloured patters on the white table cloth. She sat lost in the mesmerizing patterns. Suddenly a vaguely human form sat in the chair opposite her.
"Good day, Percy," Susan spoke softly, not wanting to scare the ghost.
"Hello," Percy replied. "Why are you here?"
"Well, to talk with you for a while, and to admire those glass beads."
"They are truly amazing," Percy admitted.
 " Yesterday," Susan began, and then she told the story of them skating, passing quickly to the fire in the Ghost house and Percy's envy of their fun began boiling. She ended up by asking Percy: "Do you know anything of other ghosts, more specifically the ghosts from that house?"
"You want to look behind the veil, now?" Percy asked. "Well let me see. I once heard a story of some gentlemen in a house, and then the wife of one of them ... she did something bad to one of the other gentlemen, and then the husband of that wife did something badder, and they all ended up dead. I could go and see if you tell me where the house is. I do not know the whole story ..."
Susan explained where the house was relative to the skating place and the girl scouts' hut, both places known to Percy as they were also there when she lived. Susan had tried to find out when Percy ad died, but so far only gotten vague answers. Time as a ghost seemed not to be the same as time as a living.
Percy broke her reveries: "I know the house, it is the one I think of. I'll go there soon and tell you what I found out when I return. Do not go there. Those are mostly bad ghosts."
"I promise," Susan said. "Bad ghosts? Are they the ones that killed others?"
"Yup!" Percy said, "And those that go BOOOH! and try to scare you off. Not nice ones like me!"
"No, not like you at all," Susan said trying to keep a straight face. Percy was morose, given to crying bouts, which made things around her shake, fall over or tumble down. Rather scary actually. Susan did not fancy meeting bad ghosts.

***

Susan did not have to wait long for Percy's return.
While Susan was still admiring the string of glass beads when Percy returned. Susan's hand suddenly felt like dipped in mists, and she looked up and saw the vaguely girl like form of Percy. "Well," she asked. "What did you find out?"
"It was a case of paraskevidekatriaphobia," Percy said, becoming almost translucent.
"A case of para...what!" Susan exclaimed.
"You know, or maybe not, that ghosts are rather superstitious. And yesterday was Friday 13th of February. Paraskevidekatriaphobia means simply fear of Friday 13th. The ghosts in that house gathered round a table, and shook. They shook so much that they turned over the table, which knocked over an old lantern and the shards worked as a magnifying glass, igniting the kerosene, and then the table tarted burning.  Of course the ghosts were long gone when the shed caught fire."
"I never considered ghosts to be susceptible to superstition," Susan said. "How come?"
"Ghosts are a strange bunch." Percy said slowly. "They are staying on for so many different reasons. Revenge, greed, curiosity. Ghosts are mostly bigots. They tend to hyperbolize the evil or the good that happened to them during their lifetime. And small details take on meaning and significance when mulled over again and again. Yes ghosts are very superstitious."
"I see," Susan said, not quite truthfully, but her head was spinning with strange words and concepts. Nothing in Percy's ramblings was really factual, something you could put your teeth into and hold onto. She would have to think it over, more times. leisurely before it would be somewhat meaningful to her. Ghosts were just strange.