The Inherited Gothic House

When Grandma left me an old Victorian house, I looked up at it, and it resembled that of the Addams family's home. Its colors were gray and white with black shutters. It was early winter so trees stood, bare and forlorn. Cardinals and black birds landed on them, turning to chirp at me as if teasing me. Squirrels ran to climb up the bark, carrying food in their swollen cheeks. Something about the house caused goosebumps on my arms.

People warned me that it was haunted but I didn't care. I arrived there, planning to convert it to a bed and breakfast hotel. But I met a ghost named Jeffery, the first owner of the house from 1885. He nixed the idea and told me he wanted me to convert it to a boarding house for students because our house was located near the university campus. So I hired a group of contractors to do the job, and in no time, it became very popular with both professors and students. They hired catering folks to host parties now and then. Jeffrey was very happy.

But we stumbled upon one problem: Cousin Thomas. He got angry and said he should get the house instead of me. Our family regarded him as a very unpleasant, rude guy who didn't go to many of our parties during the holidays, and he, recently divorced, got fired from his position as a manager of a local fast-food restaurant.

He hired a lawyer named Mr. Janson.

Mr. Janson came to my office in my house and told me, "Miss Elaine, your cousin is going to contest Grandma's will. See you in the courtroom soon." He gave me an oily smile and left. I didn't like this guy; I judged him as a slimy snake. I had to hire my lawyer, and his name was Mr. Henderson. He was very nice and sympathetic, and he looked concerned when I told him about Mr. Janson. "The lawyer your cousin hired is reputed to be the best in the real estate litigation, and he rarely loses his cases. But I'll try my best."

This didn't sound good, I remembered thinking. But I hoped for the best when we went to the courtroom two days later.

But Mr. Janson proved to be very good, and he argued that Cousin Thomas was the oldest son of Grandma's oldest son while I was the youngest daughter of Grandma's middle son. Also, he managed to produce documents to show that Grandma was in the last stage of her terminal breast cancer when she had drawn her will, and the series of chemotherapy sessions caused her brain to get confused.

With this evidence, the judge declared the will as invalid and awarded the possession of the house to Cousin Thomas who gave me a malicious grin.

Before I left the courthouse, Cousin Thomas ran up to me and looked at me with glee. "Now I got that house, I'll hire my friend, the best contractor in this town to change it into a first-class family house. When done, I plan to sell it to the highest bidder with a growing family for a few million dollars. Every one of it comes into my pocket, and I'll use it to book a cruise ride around the world!" He turned to gloat at me, calling me a big loser. He promised me that he'd tell everyone in our town about what a little foolish girl I had been to lose our family house in the courtroom.

Dejected, I went home and had plain macaroni and cheese dish for dinner. When Jeffrey appeared out of air and saw my face, he asked,"Elaine, what was the matter? You looked sad."

When I told him about Cousin Thomas and the upcoming loss of our house, Jeffrey's face twisted into anger, resembling that of a raging bear, frightening me.

Seeing my expression, he rearranged his expression back to normal and apologized for scaring me. He floated to sit down on a chair nearer to me and put his arms around my shoulders.

He whispered, "Elaine, don't worry. I have extensive contacts in the ghost community so I'll get someone to fix this for good. Wait and see what happens."

Three days later, Mr. Henderson called me and said, "Guess what happened? Your cousin was driving home from a party, lost the control of his car and hit a tree. The police found alcohol in his bloodstream, measuring long above the legal amount. He's dead now so I'll have the court to revert the house back to you. My condolences about your cousin's untimely death."

Shocked, I thanked him and turned my phone off. Cousin Thomas hated alcohol so much that he had never touched a single drop. How did he get drunk enough to get himself killed?

Since I was the nearest relative Cousin Thomas had, I went to a local morgue and viewed his body, his face sporting a large, ugly wound across his forehead. When the coroner asked me if I had recognized him. I nodded, feeling numb. "Yes, this is Cousin Thomas. Please send him to a funeral home whose address I'll give you now."

One week later, I hired a minister to do a memorial service for Cousin Thomas and invited a number of our relatives and friends. But only a few appeared. It turned out that so many people in our town didn't like him; someone told me that they held a secret party to celebrate the demise of my cousin the previous night.

When I came home and used my smartphone to order my meal of a cheeseburger with fries with an orange soda, delivered to my front door, Jeffrey appeared to me. Cheerful, he asked me, "How's your day?" When I told him about what happened with Cousin Thomas, he smiled. "Well, an old friend of mine owed me a big favor and went to that party where your cousin was drinking his coke. He managed to get someone distracting Thomas, he poured half a tequila bottle into his drink. The coke disguised the taste so your cousin finished his drink." I shook my head, bemused. "So that was how Cousin Thomas got that drunk. I guess He got what he deserved." The ghost nodded. "I agree."