Hunter's Redemption. Eleni P Sianis

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      —Ken Poirot

      Up the wooden staircase and down a short narrow hallway, Mason’s bedroom door opens to dark-gray tones and contemporary decor apart from an old desk Hannah said was passed down for generations of Hunters. Mason always loved the desk with its thick legs resembling tree trunks and asked to keep it in his room. The desk was carved to look like the bark of a tree, and the desktop’s grain was detailed and rich in color. The best part is the chessboard inlaid on the desktop. Mason’s admiration for it gave him a strong desire to have it close to him.

      Mason lay on the striped navy-blue-and-gray comforter on his bed. He opens his laptop and searches YouTube. Lately, he is enamored with Cage the Elephant’s “Cold Cold Cold.” While listening to singer Matt Shultz plead out the lyrics, Mason scans each book on his shelf with his eyes, including, To Kill a Mockingbird, A Farewell to Arms, The Things They Carried, and his current book, Fahrenheit 451. He contemplates picking it up but feels distracted. Mason can’t seem to focus enough to read or do his endless homework.

      Looking around his room, he sees his hockey jersey hanging out of the hamper and makes a mental note to throw it in the wash before his next game on Saturday. Hockey is Mason’s best outlet from the ghosts in his home and the daily torment he feels at school. There is no replacement for the adrenaline rush he feels as he races to get to the flying puck before his opponent. He lets his mind drift into a daydream of winning the Stanley Cup and imagines the fame and fortune that would naturally follow even though he plays on a house league and never even made it to a competitive travel team.

      Revved up by his daydream, Mason gets down on the ground and begins doing push-ups. His routine is ten push-ups, hold plank position for thirty seconds, and then mountain climbers for thirty seconds. He repeats this as many times as he could. Standing up, he looks at his arms in the mirror, noting some increased definition in the past few months.

      Suddenly, Mason hears a Zippo lighter flick open, and the glow of a cigarette appears. Sitting at Mason’s heavy desk is a man in his midforties. He is a large man with full lips and shining brown eyes.

      With a heavy Southern accent, the spirit’s introduction comes out slow and drawn out. “Aahm Wesley. Aahm here to help you, boy.”

      He takes a drag of his cigarette and stands up. Mason notices that the man is wearing a dark-gray pin-striped suit in the fashion of a Southern gentleman. The gold chain of a pocket watch is hanging elegantly from his trousers.

      “Where did you come from?” Mason asks.

      “Same place as awll of your uninvited guests. But aahm not heeah because your mama summoned me, boy. Aahm heeah fow you and aah have waited a looong time fow ma prodigy to come of age. An’ now, well, heeah we both awe, of sound body and mind!”

      He lets out a roaring laugh as he lays his left hand on his heaving belly. This figure, which doesn’t look like a ghost but a real man, has the strongest supernatural presence that Mason has ever felt. A force to be reckoned with, for sure, but whether or not that force is for good or evil, Mason can’t tell. Nonetheless, at this first introduction, he is intrigued.

      “There is so much aah need to show you.” Wesley puts his hand on Mason’s shoulder, and suddenly the two of them are transported to a different place and time. Mason finds himself surrounded by breathtaking oak trees. Some of their thick branches curve upward toward the blue sky and others extend outward. Moss hangs from the branches so low it nearly dips into the most reflective pond Mason has ever seen. The surface of the pond is an exact replica of the colorful azaleas, daffodils, and camellias growing all around.

      “Welcome to Charleston, South Carolina. This is the plantation where aah was born and raised. Life in South Carolina in the 1920s was rough. In 1921, the boll weevil migration to the cotton fields of South Carolina from Mexico wiped out the sea island cotton crop. We endured years of drought. Farmlands had lost half their value, and one third of the state’s farms were mortgaged.

      “Aah was only twenty-one years old then, just a few years older than you, and next in line, after my older brother William, to inherit the plantation. The previous year, our father caught malaria and passed on. William took control of the plantation with his pretty new bride, Grace. That summer, Grace’s cousin, Charlotte, from Boston came to stay with us. One look at her and aah was in love. The first evening of her stay, Charlotte sang for us. Boy, this girl sang like a nightingale. Aah swore to myself that aah would not go a single day on this earth without hearing that voice, so help me God.

      “Charlotte and aah would stroll through the gardens on the plantation most afternoons. Those are my most cherished memories. One particular such day, Charlotte wore the most exquisite green dress that brought out the green in her greenish blue eyes. We walked on the dirt path along the pond, with bright camellias occasionally brushing our necks and yellah daffodils up to our knees.

      “She told me how she loved the movies and wanted nothing more than to be a famous Hollywood actress. Whenever and as often as she could, Charlotte would go to the movies. Sometimes, we went together. Her favorite was The Queen of Sheba, a silent film about the ill-fated romance between Solomon, King of Israel, and the Queen of Sheba. Charlotte loved the lavish costumes and performances by Betty Blythe and Fritz Leiber. Aah loved when Charlotte would reenact scenes from the film with over-the-top drama, often falling into my arms as aah caught her after a near miss.”

      Mason listens carefully as the large Southern gentleman rambles on about his life. Mason knows that this story will have some tragic ending, otherwise, this soul would be resting peacefully. Mason considers ending this charade as he had heard at least a dozen of these tales…although this was the first time a spirit made first contact entirely on its own, rather than having been summoned by Hannah via request of the deceased’s family. This spirit had been dead a long time and was not one of those recently departed. Plus, Mason had never been transported anywhere by a ghost. How was this possible? No one in his family had ever described traveling to a different time and place via a ghost. Why is this happening, and why did this ghost choose Mason?

      Wesley continues with his story. “It was one autumn evening that would change our lives forever. The day was unusually hot for that time of year as it must have been over ninety-five degrees. After dinner, Charlotte and aah thought we might catch a breeze on a late-night stroll. As we walked, we heard music coming from somewhere far off. We listened carefully and picked up the sounds of guitar, saxophone, and drums…it was jazz. We had heard it be-fo-wah, but as we followed the music, we heard people too. They were dancing what today y’all call the Charleston. The Charleston had only recently gained some popularity here in South Carolina, although most places banned it.

      “We walked up to the slaves’ cabin located in the southeast end of the plantation, opened the door, and walked inside. The music stopped when they saw us, but Charlotte started to hum, tap her feet, and dance without music. Aah stood there, motionless, speechless. The drummer started to play and each musician, after seeing that aah did not object, also began to play. In a minute, everyone was in full swing again. Charlotte pulled me close and said, ‘It’s four basic steps, arms swinging loosely in the opposite direction of the legs. This is amazing!’ She smiled, and aah couldn’t resist joining her in this uninhibited dance.

      “The next morning over breakfast, Charlotte oozed excitement as she described the evening in detail to Grace and William. ‘I never felt so alive! The music was incredible, it was like the drums were beating in my chest…’ Grace, looking shocked, snapped out of her frozen state and interrupted Charlotte, ‘Wait, are you telling me you were inside the slaves’ cabins, dancing? Wesley, you allowed this? Do you know how bad this makes us look?’ William added, ‘Aah don’t believe this, Wesley. How are we supposed to run a plantation if we are dancing with our own field hands!’ Charlotte and aah followed William СКАЧАТЬ