Haunted (13 page)

I finally sighed and called for Rosa to put her bicycle away as it was time for lunch. I had cleaned and redecorated every square inch of our house: if any previous owner had left any old newspapers behind I surely would have found them by now. Besides, I reasoned, the paper my mother had saved from the final day of World War II had been as carefully preserved as possible. I now had possession of that artifact, tucked safely away in a storage box, but it was so yellowed with age and brittle to the touch that it was almost impossible to handle it at all without the paper crumbling. If that one had so deteriorated, how could other old newspapers survive through the decades?

I had heard stories of homeowners discovering letters and newspapers behind walls and under floorboards, and I wished I could be that fortunate. Dismissing the notion of such a find as wishful thinking though, I led Rosa into the house and we began to prepare sandwiches for Kammie and Matt's lunch.

After the children had eaten and returned to school, Rosa and I spent the afternoon tidying up the house and doing some work on the back lawn. When Kammie and Matt arrived home again at four o'clock, we all went to the store to pick up some items I needed for dinner.

As we walked to the nearby market I explained to them that the garden areas were all ready to be planted now, and like last year, they could each have their own patch of soil in which to plant what they wished. That was exciting news for them as they enjoyed growing their own flowers and vegetables. Kammie had already decided that she wanted the area of garden right beside the front stairs, and as we approached the house on our way back, she pointed to the spot to lay her claim.

I was walking along with Kammie, discussing the best time to plant her flowers, and Matt and Rosa were following a few steps behind. As we approached the walkway to the porch, Kammie and I both stopped suddenly and stared at the front lawn. As we had walked towards the house, a newspaper had materialized right in front of our eyes. It had not been there one moment, but was definitely there the next. The paper was spread out, as though it was being read, on the front lawn beside the porch stairs.

Kammie and I looked at one another.

“Where on earth did that come from?” I finally managed to say.

“It must have got away from the paper boy when he was delivering his newspapers,” Kammie suggested logically.

“Yes, it must have,” I agreed. “But it seemed to appear out of nowhere. I didn't see it blowing down the street.”

As I neared the paper to retrieve it, I saw that it was actually only one large piece of newsprint spread open, and therefore, four actual pages from a newspaper. The only thing that seemed unusual about it, at first, was its size. The paper was too wide and too short to be from our regular local newspaper. It looked new. I concluded that it could only have been outside for a short while, as it had rained the day before. When I picked up the paper to look at it, however, even before I noticed the advertisements and the photographs, I was surprised by the small size of the type. The numerous articles were much more compressed than those printed in any current newspaper.

“What is this?” I wondered aloud as I followed the children up the front steps to the porch.

When I finally looked at the top of the paper, I saw a name I did not recognize and a date I could scarcely believe: “The Mail and Empire, Toronto, Thursday, August 17, 1933.”

I almost dropped the newspaper in my shock. Kammie had seen the date by this time as well, and she looked at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“How can it be that old?” she asked. “It looks like it's brand new.”

“I know,” I said as my eyes scanned the paper, thinking it might be some kind of joke or novelty item.

The week before, a newspaper carrier had left several copies of a free weekly paper at the side of our house, apparently too tired to finish his route. The papers had sat between our house and our neighbour's for two days before they were discovered. In only that short period, they had turned yellowish and soggy from their exposure to the elements. I thought of those papers as I gently held this mint antique newspaper in my hands. Where could it have come from? How could it look and smell so new?

So many articles were crammed into the four pages of newsprint. There were stories about the many indigent citizens trying to survive the difficult times of what would come to be known as the Great Depression. But, the advertisements were fun to read: “Cruise the Great Lakes over the Week-end. From Toronto to Sault Ste. Marie. $15.00 Return.” Another told the reader, “Today is Bargain Day at Eaton's: women's shoes–$1.89; all wool dresses–$2.95; real silk hosiery–.69; cotton pyjamas–$1.00; and Men's two-trousers all wool navy blue and plain gray serge suits–$20.00.”

There were stories of tragedy as well: a little boy had drowned after becoming entangled in weeds in a river and a five-year-old had been scalded when he upset a kettle of boiling water. A lighter toned feature, positioned at the bottom corner of the third page, was entitled “Home Run Standing.” The baseball leaders were Foxx, Athletics, 35; Ruth, Yankees, 26; and Gehrig, Yankees, 20.

One of the most notable news story concerned the race riot at Christie Pits in Toronto, Ontario, the previous evening between the Jewish and non-Jewish spectators at a baseball game. Another article ran under the headline: “Germany Is Seen As World Menace ... Minister and Author Fears Result of Hitler Regime.”

The children and I sat on the front porch, and I read them portions of news from the past. We all were amazed at finding this perfectly preserved piece of history and still puzzled at how it had come to be lying on our front lawn. I realized it had only been a few hours earlier that I had sat at that spot and wished for that very experience. Although I was thrilled with the page, I regretted it was not a complete copy.

“Where could this have come from?” I mused again.

“I know!” said Kammie. “I bet it came from under the porch!”

“No, it couldn't have,” I said. “That's all closed in with brick and lattice. Not even a strong wind could have blown it out from under there. Besides, if it had been outside all these years, it wouldn't be in this kind of condition.”

“Couldn't we just get a flashlight and check and see if there are more newspapers?” Kammie asked.

“Go ahead,” I told her. She could get the flashlight from the kitchen if she wanted and see for herself, but I was sure that there was nothing under the porch.

Lattice covered the left side of the stairs, edging one of the garden beds that I had tilled and weeded that morning. Kammie kneeled down to look, and before she even turned on the flashlight, she let out a small gasp.

“What's that?” she said, pointing towards the lattice.

Matt, Rosa, and I hurried down the stairs to see what she had found. Just inside the lattice was what appeared to be a bundle of newspaper. I knew with certainty that there had been nothing there when I had done my gardening, and it was obvious from the embedded rusty nails in the lattice that it had not been disturbed in many years.

I sent Kammie in to fetch the hammer so I could remove the lattice and retrieve the item. As I waited for my daughter to come back with the tool I tried to estimate how old the paper could be. I knew no one had recently removed the lattice. When Ted had examined the underside of the porch the previous year to determine what would be needed to turn the porch into a sun room, he had shone his light through the holes of the lattice, but he had not removed the wood itself. Nor had he mentioned seeing a newspaper under there. I peered at what was obviously a complete edition and not just one large sheet of newsprint.

Kammie gave me the hammer, and I carefully began to pry the nails out of the wooden lattice so I could remove it. The nails were so thoroughly rusted in place that it was some time before I could finally pull the lattice from the side of the stairs.

When I had retrieved the folded newspaper, the children gathered around me to see its date. It was obviously not a copy of our small local paper; it was much too thick for that. We were all astonished when we read: “The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, November 28, 1934.” I later learned that this name had been shortened to The Toronto Star in 1971.

It was beyond my comprehension how two Toronto newspapers, one complete and one partial and long defunct, printed within fifteen months of each other in the 1930s and in excellent condition, had come to be there only hours after I had been hoping for such a find. Both old newspapers had appeared out of nowhere, just as I had wished after seeing the image of the man reading a paper on the front porch. It seemed unbelievable.

I took the paper up onto the porch and spread it out on the floor. We gathered around the old newspaper, and I looked through its pages, sharing the various news stories I saw with the children. The main story of the day was about “Baby Face” Nelson, the lead member of the late John Dillinger's gang, who, along with two FBI agents, had been killed in a shoot-out the previous night. Another page informed us that the Dionne Quintuplets had just celebrated their sixth-month birthday and were now expected to live an average life span. Still another story concerned silent film star Douglas Fairbanks, who had been cited as a co-respondent in Lady Ashley's divorce case against Lord Ashley and therefore had been ruled by the court to pay all the costs involved.

The page that delighted the children the most featured the comic strips of the day. They smiled and giggled at the antics of Popeye, Li'l Abner, and Tarzan and the Lion Man. The entertainment page encouraged the public, for the admission price of twenty-five cents, to see such films as Anne of Green Gables, starring Anne Shirley; The Girl from Missouri, with Jean Harlow, and The Merry Widow, with Jeanette McDonald.

This remarkable piece of history also featured articles that contained first-hand accounts of the often insurmountable hardship the Great Depression was casting on the nation. Unlike history books, those articles presented the human side of that era.

I was eager for Ted to get home at dinner time so I could show him our amazing finds. As I refolded the newspaper, Kammie touched my hand, and I looked into her worried eyes.

“We aren't going to bring that into the house, are we?” she asked me quietly.

“Of course we are,” I said, still excited.

“I think we should put it back,” Kammie insisted.

I then understood why she was worried. As with the old cream jar, ink-well, and button found in the backyard, bringing this paper into the house could cause an increase in our disturbances. Although we still experienced occasional paranormal activity, thefrequency and intensity had lessened after we had replaced those items in the ground. As that was not a risk I was prepared to take, with some disappointment I put the old newspaper from November 28, 1934, back under the porch, exactly where we had found it. The page from the August 17, 1933, paper, however, had not been contained within the property but had been found lying on the front lawn. I thought it would therefore be safe to take it in the house, and I carefully folded it up and carried it up to my desk in the attic.

When Ted got home later that evening we told him what we had found. He of course found it a little hard to believe, but after I had shown him the page from the 1933 edition of The Mail and Empire, he could not logically explain how it had materialized. He too was shocked that a paper that old could appear to be that freshly printed.

“Where did you say you found the other paper?” Ted asked.

“Under the porch,” Kammie told him.

“I didn't see any newspapers, and I spent a lot of time looking under there,” he said.

“I know,” she giggled, amused at her father's bewilderment.

“It was leaning against the inside of the lattice, right where we've replaced it,” I said.

Ted went outside to see that for himself. I assumed his main concern was whether I had damaged the lattice, but he came back into the house shaking his head.

“Who could have put that there, and when?” he asked.

“I don't know. But you have a logical explanation for it, right?” I smiled at my husband.

He had to admit, that time, he definitely did not.

PAGE FIVE

O
ne
Sunday evening, later that spring, I found myself unable to settle in the family room with the others as I impatiently waited for a phone call from Beverly. She had attended a family wedding with her sister, Dennise, that weekend and had told me she would call when she got home. Finally, late in the evening, the telephone rang. Beverly told me that Dennise had been intrigued by what she had told her.

As Dennise was unable to visit our town, and therefore, our home anytime soon, I had described the paranormal events we had experienced to Beverly, who had then shared that information with Dennise. Even if she was unable to visit the house herself, I hoped that she could offer some advice on the matter based on what she heard.

Although the sightings of the actual spirits had frightened me the most, I found the appearance of the nail and the two newspapers to be the most bizarre and inexplicable incidents. I had asked Beverly if she could question Dennise about those events in particular. Was it at all possible that those materialized items had been meant as a gift or a sign? And, if so, what did they mean?

Dennise had told Beverly that she had spirit guides that communicated with her, and it was through those guides that she had received information about our situation. When asked about the newspapers, she had said that those definitely had been given to us by the spirits and that there was an important reason for their appearance. She had been told that the answer to their significance for us was on page five of the newspapers.

Beverly apologized for that scant bit of information. She explained that she had not had a lot of time to speak to her sister privately and did not feel comfortable talking about that sort of thing in a crowd. I was grateful to receive any help and thanked my friend for her trouble.