THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN

By

B. FOGLE

ROBERT W FOGLE

           My pragmatic brain is struggling to convince my body I’m dead, I’ve croaked, bit the dust, kicked the bucket, cashed in my chips. However, I might be in a coma! But it looks dead doesn’t it? You know what, I’m just grabbing at straws. Look at my body wrapped around that tree trunk; you can’t get deader than that. Oh well, I reckon I always knew life was just a path to death. Had a look at my body after the accident, nobody could have survived something like that.

           Today’s date pops into my mind, October 23, 1980, and I think: the day J.P. Carson got T-boned by a truck, dead at thirty-years of age. I’ve always had an incredibly low tolerance for pain, but I’ve got to say, there’s no pain. Thinking about that truck, it was really big. I believe it was one of those huge dump trucks. Pain and fear suddenly

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE   PG 2          

grip me, then I remember I’m dead, and it all goes away.

           Taking one last look at my body, I had an impulse to reach out and just touch my arm. Hesitantly, I reached out my hand about to touch my body when it I disappear.

          I’m clearly aware I have vanished because I felt my mind leave my body behind. It is now drifting slowly among beautiful white clouds. I’m reminded as my soul drifts along, here holds the complete history of J.P. Carson; what I’ve done with unselfish goodness, and what I never want to hear revealed.

           Time has no meaning now and I’m amazed to see how embarrassing my totally exposed life is.  I feel a multitude of embarrassments still awaiting exposure. Suddenly I’m in front of a white door with no doorknob. This door isn’t part of a building, it stands among the clouds that continue to pass by. I’m surprised when I see it begin to open.

           A male voice from within speaks, “You’re welcome here, please step through the door and we can talk. My name is Mr. Downing.” Like I’ve got a choice, so I enter. There’s a man sitting behind a desk motioning me towards a chair. Need I say there’s no floor, no walls, no ceiling, just more of the same soft floating clouds all around.

           I wait until he speaks, “Mr. Carson, are you comfortable with the afterlife process?”

          “Mr. whatever that name was, this has got to be the dumbest question you can ask!”

           “Well, this is my standard introduction, it’s worked well for millennia.”

           “Yeah, no one’s dumb enough to not know what’s going on. I’m dead, my body is gone, I’m now only my mind floating in clouds when I come upon a door to nowhere, and you want to know if I’m comfortable.”

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE  

PG 3          

           “Sir, I’m aware that your name is, J.P. Carson. You have cared for the members of your family while controlling an exceptionally large family fortune. Mr. Carson, that floating mind is you. It’s your essence, everything J.P. Carson ever was, yes, your very soul, sir. During this post-life journey, I’m responsible for offering advice to avoid surprises.”

           “Well sir, this deserves my honest answer to your question, ‘am I comfortable.’ I went to church, some, and even Sunday School, some. They taught me that the soul goes either to Heaven or Hell. If I had it, I’d give you a hundred bucks for a hint as to which way I’m headed.”

           “Hmm, J.P., actually it is my responsibility to inform you, up or down. You, however, are going in neither direction. You’ll be staying right there in the house where you spent your life.”

           “Son of a… sorry, you caught me off guard. I reckon this means I survived the wreck?”

           “Wrong! You’re dead as dirt, you made your choice while you were alive. This rarely happens but you will stay on earth as a ghost for eternity. Lest you misunderstand eternity - just think of forever and ever hereafter. This is an unusual event and it’s only proper that I orient you to your new status.”

           “New status! NEW STATUS! You sit there and tell me Casper’s going to be my new best friend!”

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE  

 PG 4          

           “Please, calm down Mr. Carson, being a ghost isn’t totally bad. I’m a ghost and you don’t see me having a fit. There is nothing you can do about this so make the best of what you’ve got.

           “You can be among your family, even if they aren’t aware you are there. You’ll never have to open a door again, nor come in out of the rain. Think of next Halloween, you can open the front door and with your invisible hand offer a kid a piece of candy, then watch him run for his life. These are but a few of the perks of being a ghost.

           “With practice you’ll learn to become visible and there’s no reason you shouldn’t also be able to speak.” 

           “Well, isn’t that wonderful! Will I be naked or dressed?”

           “Don’t go off the deep end Mr. Carson, of course you will wear clothes, invisible clothes, and you’ll never know hunger.”

           “Let me explain something Mr. Downing, I’m the caretaker for seven of my siblings, all living in the same house. They know they’re wealthy, and all but one exemplifies the quintessence of the concept of lazy. They’ve absolutely no desire to venture out and mingle among local society and their slothfulness is responsible for each losing three of the five basic human motor skills. Each day they lay around playing simple card games.

           “There is one of my generation, Milton, who is a somewhat younger brother and showing definite signs of ambition. I gravitate towards him for help in keeping the others

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE 

PG 5          

from starvation and he even now handles all the finances. I failed to mention that the house is a mansion: three-stories, ten bedrooms, built in 1908. Since the day it was occupied, and for well over one-hundred years now, little maintenance has been done.      

++++

           The accident that took J.P.’s life was a number of years ago, and the year is now 2020. The family he diligently looked after has all died off now, only his younger brother Milton remains. He moved awhile back to Kansas City where the family’s primary holding’s center is located. J.P, if there are ghosts, has had the place entirely to hisself.

           When old man Carson built the house, he started construction in 1906 and finished in two years. He bragged to the local newspaper, “I built this house to stand for a hundred years.”

++++

           Hello, my name’s Doug Amity, I take down buildings and my company name is Demolition Man. Several days ago, I received a request to take down the old, condemned Carson mansion just out of town along Hwy 4. From kids who trespassed on the property, to the men who handled the condemnation procedure, to our mayor, all swear the place is haunted. The curious thing is, each witness describes the ghost as an old man dressed somewhat formally. The only item on the massive front porch is an old rocking chair. The witness stories put together sounds like this.

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE

 PG 6                   

           The old man has been seen floating just above the floor back and forth on the front porch, as well as through the front door. Most days he sits on his rocking chair smoking a pipe. His appearance is described as solid to somewhat faded.  He’s spoken nasty to many witnesses.

           Pre-demolition research reveals a one-hundred-twelve-year huge house that’s partially collapsed. Nowhere in the legal archive is it said transformation from gaslight to electricity ever occurred. Several generations of Carson's have occupied the mansion and not one of them tried to maintain or repair deteriorating parts.

           Being a marvel of its time, twelve unique outhouses were connected to the house via long hallways to eliminate going outside in inclement weather.  

           As time passed, a rumor spread about town the Carson fortune was used up. One afternoon I received a call from, Ron DeCortes, President of the local branch of the Hawthorne National Bank. He asked for a meeting ASAP, which took place that afternoon.

           He explained the Carson family has dwindled to one remaining family member, Milton Carson, now heir to the Carson holdings. He explained Mr. Carson, has requested I contact him. Mr. DeCortes pushed a business card across the desk with a telephone number in Kansas City, Mo.

           Mr. Carson answered the phone on the second ring as, “Carson Holdings, Inc.,” and thanked me for the prompt return call. He assumed I knew of and had seen the outside of the old family mansion on Hwy 4.

THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE 

PG 7                   

           I assured him I’ve passed it numerous times and wished I had seen it in the glory days of its existence. He explained it’s been condemned and wanted a quote to take it down, saving only what’s still of value.

           The bank has a key to the front gate and the front door which Mr. Cortes gave me, and I must say I felt like a kid waiting for the front door to be unlocked to the candy store.

           I’m now turning the key in the front door lock with more excitement than waiting for the candy store to open.

           Over the past few years there’s been rumors of a ghost living in the mansion, but I have no fear, ghosts are the product of a suggestive mind. The most prominent of stories have come from kids who trespassed and sneaked up to the front porch. An old man stepped outside through the closed front door and yelled at them according to their animated report. He looked straight at them and said, “out of here now!” and disappeared back through the door. Their story was told and retold with laughter until two county employees were sent to determine the safety of the structure.    

           These two men were inside and halfway through their inspection when each told this story. We were inside a third bedroom, amazed by the antique furniture slowly deteriorating due to the high moisture content. Number one left the bedroom moving down the hallway to the next room, a lounge. Number two described an old man, dressed formally, simply materialized and said, “Leave now, take nothing with you.” Number one reports seeing him walk through the wall, stop, and say, “I told your friend, get out, you have not been invited here.” They did, coming back with their story.  

 THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE 

PG 8                              

           The Mayor had heard the stories, laughed, and said they were lies. With much publicity he took his turn inside the house. Gone five minutes he came out the front door as fast as his sixty-year-old legs would move. When asked what he saw he refused to answer.               

           Mr. Carson was in a hurry and needed my proposal ASAP. I set about drawing it up that evening and into a long night. The morning following my conversation with Mr. Carson I find myself inside the front door of the old Carson mansion. I went about my tour; Mr. Carson had asked me to note salvageable items inside to be removed prior to demolition.

           In a first-floor library, more than likely the main library, I sat on a fancy couch to write some notes when a friendly voice asked, “Why are you taking an inventory?” Looking up I see an elderly man sitting comfortably in a chair across from me. I realize it’s him, the one the others had described.

           Still sitting I explained about the pending demolition. He sadly agreed saying, “My brother made a good call, this place is on its last leg.”

           “When it’s nothing but a pile of rubble sir, where will you live?”

           “I know who you are, you’re Mr. Amity here to take down my home, and sent by my brother, Milton, right?”

           “Yes sir, if you will, where will you live when the house is gone?”

           “Your concern is impressive, but not to worry, I’ll have the property as my home. I’m only visible when I want to be. You do what is necessary, I’ll be fine, and we’ll possibly have a chat or two while you’re working here.” 

  THE GHOST WHO COULDN’T BE SEEN ON HALLOWEEN/FOGLE

PG 9                           

           I deliver an extremely high quote (as I’m thinking the house will present problems) to the bank in the morning and received a call within two hours approving the job.

           Mr. Carson asked me to be prepared to start the day after the bank contacts me that funds have successfully been transferred.

           When the bank calls the following day, they request an urgent meeting. They have received the authorization to transfer in full my proposed bid.

           A bank vice president tells me Milton has two caveats for which he’s authorized an additional very generous amount should I agree. The first caveat is not to let it become common knowledge the place is being taken down. The second caveat is to expect an encounter with the ghost of his brother, J.P. Carson.