Cornbluth's Ghost

Cornbluth's Ghost

Grandma was always the first to notice things. In fact, she was often the only one to notice things. She would notice things that weren’t even there to notice in the first place. They all thought she was nuts. Truth be known, Grandma was nuts. She was always hearing things, seeing things, dreaming things. She once thought a cow was getting a quick cool down in the bathtub. She had been abducted by aliens, not once, but twenty-seven times, and usually taken to a place where the trees could talk, and penguins could fly. She would even mimic the flight of a frantically flapping penguin as she soared around the living room. Grandma loved to fly. She flew to New York once, without an airplane. It was all harmless, and despite the whispers in the neighborhood, it provided some nice entertainment for the family.

Grandma related the stories with such drama and animation that Joey and Tim believed them. Marko and Susan didn’t want their children taking Grandma’s incredible tales seriously, or worse, taking them to school, but at the same time they didn’t want the kids to think their Grandma was nuts. It was a delicate line they walked most every day.

The current problem was that Susan’s sister and her husband were coming to visit for a week. Joey and Tim would have to give up their room and sleep on the old, worn pullout sofa bed in the spare room which Grandma had proclaimed off limits as it was haunted by a ghost she described as old, mean, smelly and nearsighted. He went by the name of Cornbluth. The boys had stood at the doorway of that room with cautious curiosity many times, but they never dared to enter. Predictably, they would not be receptive to the idea of sleeping in there.

Marko sought his mother’s help.

“Grandma, could you please tell the boys Cornbluth isn’t real?”

“What are you talking about? Of course, he’s real. He’s been lurking in there ever since his brother killed him with an ax in ’26. Don’t you go in there, and for God’s sake don’t let the children sleep in there!”

Susan tried talking to the children.

“Joey, Tim, you’ll be fine in there. It will be like camping out. We’ll even put a little canopy over the bed. It will be fun!”

Joey, at seven the oldest, spoke up to protect his brother as well as himself.

“What about Cornbluth’s Ghost?”

“Cornbluth’s Ghost isn’t real, Joey. It’s just a fun story Grandma tells.”

“Is Grandma nuts?”

“Joey! No, Grandma isn’t nuts.”

“Then we’re not sleeping in a room where some guy got killed with an ax.”

Intense negotiations went on for days. Threats were made. Bribes were offered. Joey and Tim hung tough, even turning down a new basketball, two Nerf Super Soaker Water Blasters and a trip to the zoo.

“I give up”, said Susan. “Lets just put Fred and Tracie on the pullout sofa. We don’t want to have a scene with the boys while they’re here.”

Marko figured he should have a talk with Grandma about the subject of Cornbluth’s Ghost before their guests arrived.

“Grandma, you know Fred and Tracie will be staying in the spare room.”

“Really? Do they know the danger?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe we shouldn’t mention Cornbluth’s Ghost. It might make them nervous.”

“And Susan’s okay with putting her own sister in there?”

“Yes, Grandma, it will be fine.”

“I like Fred and Tracie. Maybe I’ll just give them a quick heads-up.”

“No, you don’t need to do that. I’ll tell you what. I’ll talk to them about Cornbluth. That way you won’t have to.”

Grandma was skeptical, but she agreed.

Susan prepared all of Tracie’s favorites for dinner that first night, pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, and apple pie. Marko kept a worrisome eye on Grandma during the entire meal. His concerns proved justified.

“So, Fred, how do you like your accommodations?”

Marko put his spoonful of peas down and bit his lip instead.

“Oh, it’s great, Grandma. We’ll be fine in there. It’s nice and cozy.”

“Really? Have you heard any unusual noises…”

Marko tried to cut her off at the pass.

“Grandma, could you please pass the mashed potatoes? You know Grandma made the best mashed potatoes. She put some special seasoning in them. I loved them growing up. Didn’t I Grandma?”

The diversion was short lived. Grandma passed the potatoes, muttered, “Yes, you did,” and then shot back to the topic on her mind.

“No sounds of something like footsteps or moaning or someone crying out in horrible pain?”

Susan’s turn.

“Don’t be silly, Grandma. The room is just fine. She’s just teasing, Tracie.”

“Teasing? You think Cornbluth’s brother was teasing when he hacked him to death in that room with an ax?”

The boys’ eyes popped wide open, Marko’s head dropped, and Fred turned toward Grandma.

“Cornbluth? Who’s Cornbluth?”

“Oh, no one told you about Cornbluth?”

Grandma chastised her son with the look only a mother can give.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but the Cornbluths built this house in 1915. One day the two Cornbluth brothers argued about something. They say it was all over a horse. Well, after Percy Cornbluth went to bed that night, his brother Max came into that room and chopped his brother up with an ax while he was sleeping. Got him thirty-two times. There was blood everywhere.”

The boys’ eyes popped open a little wider. Fred’s eyes seemed to be on the same trajectory.

“Grandma!”

“They have a right to know, Susan. He’s still in there, you know.”

Fred looked concerned.

“Who’s still in there?”

‘Cornbluth, Percy Cornbluth. He was so chopped up they couldn’t put enough of him together to bury. He’s restless, and angry. You’d be angry too if that happened to you.”

“Grandma! Please. Could we please talk about something else?”

“Fine, Marko, I just thought they should know.”

Fred’s look of concern was drifting off into the worried zone.

The dinner went on without further Cornbluth alerts, that is until dessert time. Grandma was about finished with her apple pie when she dropped her fork and turned toward the spare room.

“Can you hear him?”

“No, Grandma, we can’t hear him.”

“He’s stirring, Marko. And he’s mad. He seeks revenge. Oh, my God, he might even come out of his room tonight.”

Grandma abruptly got up from the table and hurried off to her room as fast as a Grandma can hurry. The remaining diners heard her door slam shut. 

Fred stared in the direction of the spare room. A casual glance would confirm Fred hadn’t missed too many meals, but tonight he didn’t finish his pie.

Marko, Susan, Fred and Tracie gathered around the outdoor fire pit. The shadows of the flames dancing against the side of the house seemed to be playing on Fred’s mind.

“So, Marko, what’s all this Cornbluth business Grandma keeps talking about?”

Marko gave Susan a questioning look. She knew Marko was considering the easy answer, that is, that Grandma was nuts. But that would be…unkind. And we’re talking about Marko’s mother here. But at the same time, he didn’t want Fred and Tracie to think they were stashing them in a slaughterhouse for the week.

“Oh, Fred, she’s just a little confused. I don’t know how she came up with something like that. We think she picked up on some urban legend someone in her church group told her about, and that was in a different town. It’s silly.”

Susan nodded in approval.

The look on Fred’s face was not suggestive of acceptance of the “silly” explanation.

“I see.”

Fred was thinking, and with some hesitation said, “You know Marko, there are some funny marks on the floor in our room. Do you know what those are from?”

“Fred, please tell me you’re not worried about this Cornbluth stuff.”

“Of course not, honey. I was just curious.”

“There was an old piano in there. My clumsy husband scratched the floor up when he dragged it out of there. There’s nothing to worry about. All this Cornbluth stuff is ridiculous.”

“I see.”

Grandma approached. Anxious anticipation immediately overtook Marko and Susan. They had hoped Grandma retired for the night, and that all that Cornbluth business had been put to bed, so to speak. The large silver cross hanging from her neck and the rosary in her wrinkled hands suggested otherwise.

“Oh, hi grandma. Are you going to join us?”

“No, I just wanted to say goodbye to Fred and Tracie…”

This time Marko gave Grandma a look that carried a message without the need for words.

“Oh, sorry, I meant good night, not goodbye like I thought something really bad might happen to you in Cornbluth’s room tonight. Yes, I just wanted to say good night to Fred and Tracie…and to Susan and Marko too. It wasn’t goodbye like they would be dead tomorrow and I would never see them again.”

Grandma gave Marko a wink as he put his hand to his forehead. Susan went to her piña colada. Grandma then stepped between Fred and Tracie and put a hand on each of their shoulders. In a barely audible prayerful tone, she spoke in Serbian, the language of her home country.

" Merciful God, if the intruders upset Cornbluth, please protect them. Try to restrain Cornbluth in his lust for bloody revenge. If he goes to the ax, let it be quick and painless...and not too messy. These are good people. They don't deserve to suffer at the hands of Cornbluth. And please tell Cornbluth that I tried to stop them. I don't want him coming after me next."

With that said, Grandma kissed each of them on the head, made the sign of the cross, clutched her rosary and mumbled something unintelligible as she walked away. Fred went past “concerned” and “worried” and was now heading straight for the land of the distressed.

“What was that? What did she say, Marko?”

“Oh, she just thanked God for your visit, Fred.”

“That’s it?! It was a lot longer than that.”

“No, that’s all there was.”

“I heard her say Cornbluth. What was that about?”

“I didn’t hear anything about Cornbluth.”

“She said it like three or four times.”

“No, I didn’t catch that. Did you, Susan?”

“No, I didn’t hear it.”

Susan thought it was a good time to escape. She picked up the empty glass pitcher.

“I’ll mix up another batch of piña coladas.”

“I’ll help you with that.”

Susan and Tracie left. Marco tossed a couple of small logs on the fire, and sat down next to Fred.

“Fred, I hope you’re not bothered about this stuff Grandma’s been talking about.”

Fred laughed and waved his hand as to brush the whole thing off.

“Of course not, Marco. Don’t be ridiculous. Four years Army, two tours in Afghanistan. You think some silly spooky story is going to scare me? Ha! Even if something like that did happen in there, it wouldn’t bother me none. I was just thinking of Tracie. You know how women are. They get all jittery about stuff like that.”

Fred gave it a little jazz hands for emphasis.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Another laugh with the dismissive wave.

“And Tracie will be fine. She always feels safe if she’s with me.”

At night’s end, Marko and Susan went to their bedroom while Fred and Tracie headed for the spare room Grandma had warned them about. Fred stopped at the door.

“You go ahead, hon. I have to hit the bathroom.”

“You just went to the bathroom like fifteen minutes ago.”

“Well, I had a lot to drink tonight, and I don’t want to be getting up in the middle of the night.”

Tracie entered the room while Fred walked down the hallway in the direction of the first-floor bathroom. Tracie was in bed and almost asleep before he returned.

“What took you so long?”

“That wasn’t long.”

“Yes, it was. That was almost a half hour. What were you…wait a minute. You were afraid to come in here because of all that Cornbluth stuff. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“What? Of course not.”

“I think it’s even worse than that. You wanted to see if I’d be okay in here before you’d come in.”

“Honey, of course not. I…”

“I was your canary in the coal mine! I can’t believe you’d put me in here if you were afraid to be in here yourself.”

“Honey, that’s not it at all. I would never do anything like that.”

“Just come to bed.”

It was taking Fred an unusually long time to get himself “bed ready”. He repositioned his shoes under the bed, sat down on the edge of the bed, looked in the closet, changed his T-shirt, moved the shoes again, sat down on the bed, looked in the closet again, changed his socks, looked behind the curtains, looked under the bed, sat down on the bed, got up again and started doing some deep knee bends while his eyes continuously scanned the room like a radar beam.

“For God’s sake, Fred, what are you doing?”

“Just loosening up the old knee joints. That was a long drive today.”

“I want to get some sleep. Just go to bed!”

 Tracie mumbled something unintelligible and buried her head in the pillow.

Bright sunlight was pouring through the kitchen window. Marko was flipping pancakes when he saw Tracie opening the front door.

“Good morning, Tracie! Breakfast is almost ready. Is Fred up yet?”

As Tracie opened the door, she yelled back to Marko.

“That’s what I’m going to find out. Braveheart slept in the car last night.”