Haunted Tales (17 page)

“Mr. Lincoln,” Mary said softly, keeping her voice low so
others couldn’t hear her. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

She was in the corner of the room with her back facing the
class as she prepared treat bags for the children.
 
It was the perfect
opportunity
to speak with the president without having anyone think
she was talking
to herself.

He smiled at her. “It is my honor, my lady,” he replied. “I
assume that you are Miss Clarissa’s mother. The one who can see ghosts, too?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I am,” she said.

“You must be very proud of these enterprising young ladies,”
he said, looking over to where the girls were mingling with their friends.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “But I’m afraid I’m slightly
confused. I had heard your spirit was often seen at the White House, but I’m
surprised to see you in Freeport.”

“Ah, well, Freeport holds an important place in my heart,”
he replied. “When I was a young captain in the Illinois militia, one of my
first duties was to come here to the Freeport area during the Blackhawk
Wars.
 
I never engaged in battle, but I
was a part of the militia that buried the soldiers that had fought. I was only
twenty-three years old, but the memory of those who died stays with me even to
this day.”

“I had no idea,” Mary said.

“Well, that is not my only connection to Freeport,” he said.
“In Freeport, I debated Stephen A. Douglas for the office of senator. As a
matter of fact, the debate site is adjacent to the very library where I have
engaged in delightful conversation with Miss Maggie and Miss Clarissa.”

“And how did you do in the debate?” Mary asked.

 
A smile slowly grew
on his face. “Let me just say that it was an election which I most assuredly
lost.”

Mary chuckled. “Well, it doesn’t seem that Freeport holds
very good memories,” she said.

“Ah, but you don’t know the rest of the story,” he said, his
eyes twinkling with enjoyment.

“And what would that be?” she asked.

“During the debate, I asked Douglas about his stance on
slavery, whether territories had the right to determine if they were going to
be free or slave states, or if, as according to a majority decision of the
United States Supreme Court, the territories could not legally exclude
slavery.” He chuckled. “That put the “little giant” in quite a quandary. He
greatly respected the Supreme Court, but their decision was contrary to his
political aspirations. He answered that despite what the court said, slavery
could be prevented from any territory by the refusal of the people living in
that territory to pass laws favorable to slavery.
 
So, although he won the Senate contest, the
Freeport Doctrine, as it was called, did not endear him to the people in the
southern states.
 
And that, I believe,
was his downfall during the presidential election of 1860.
 
The election that I won.”

“You and Douglas must not have been on very good speaking
terms after that,” Mary suggested.

His smiled turned sober, and he slowly shook his head. “No,
as a matter of fact, Stephen was a good man and a great supporter of my
presidency, and he was one of the fiercest advocates of maintaining the
Union.”
 
Meeting Mary’s eyes, he smiled
sadly. “He was my friend.”

Mary was about to ask him another question when she heard
her name called from the other side of the room. “Mrs. Alden,” Mrs. Spangler
called. “Would you like to join us in the parade around the school?”

Mary turned and smiled. “Of course, I would be delighted,”
she said, and when she turned back, President Lincoln was gone.

“He does that,” Maggie said, both girls coming up alongside
Mary. “But he always comes back.”

Mary smiled down at them. “Well, that’s good to know,” she
said.

“Were you surprised?” Clarissa asked. “Were you so
surprised?”

“I was incredibly surprised,” she said, bending over and
giving Clarissa a hug and then turning and giving Maggie one, too. “I couldn’t
believe it when I saw him walking through the door.”

“And I saw him,” Clarissa said. “I actually saw a ghost.”

Mary smiled at her, her heart melting at the joy in her
daughter’s face. “Yes you did,” she said. “And I can tell that both of you made
quite an impression on him.”

“Clarissa, Maggie, take your place in line,” Mrs. Spangler
said.

“Oh, we have to go,” Clarissa said, but then she gave Mary
one more hug. “Thanks for coming to the party.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she said.

With Kate in the lead, the classroom marched out into the
hallway towards the doors to the playground.
 
Mary waited as they left the room, taking up the back.

“Mrs. Alden,” Mrs. Spangler said once the children had left
the room. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about Clarissa, and I put it off
because I knew you would be here today.”

“Oh?” Mary said, a pit growing in her stomach. “Is something
wrong?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” the teacher said, motioning to Mary to
walk with her as they followed the children at a safe enough distance that they
could see them but not be overheard. “It seems that Clarissa has had a strong
interest in death lately.”

“Death?”
Mary asked.

The teacher nodded. “Yes, she asked me several times this week
if anyone either died in this classroom, or in the gym, or in the lunchroom,”
she sighed. “Basically any place in the school we’ve gone.”

The pit in Mary’s stomach dissolved, and she smiled at the
teacher. “Did you happen to catch the article in the paper about my work a
couple of weeks ago?” Mary asked.

Mrs. Spangler shook her head. “No, I live in Rockford, so I
don’t subscribe to the local paper.
 
Is
it relevant to our discussion?”

“Actually, not really,” Mary said, “but it might have shed a
little more light on our families predilection to death or, more specifically,
ghosts.”

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Spangler asked.

“It would seem that Clarissa has been more occupied with
ghosts than death,” Mary explained. “Other than her school project, my family
has a tradition of telling ghost stories on Halloween night. Usually…” she
paused to find the right word, “unique stories. So I’m sure that Clarissa was
just trying to see if she could find a
real
ghost story.”

Mrs. Spangler chuckled. “Children have the most outrageous
imaginations, don’t they?
 
Real ghosts.
How absurd.”

Mary looked up ahead at the children, saw the tall, gangly
former president walking in the midst of them, and shook her head.
“How absurd indeed.”

“Dammit,” Bradley growled as he hit his thumb with the
hammer for the third time. “This is not working.”

“Not much to hanging a sheet up against a wall,” Stanley
muttered. “Most intelligent people could handle it.”

Bradley turned slowly from his position on the top rung of
the step ladder and glowered at Stanley. “Well then, why don’t you try it?” he
asked.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Stanley said, reaching up for the
hammer and then stepping out of the way so Bradley could get down.

With a shrug, Bradley climbed down and stepped to the side
while Stanley climbed up the ladder, smiling with a cocky certainty that he was
going to show Bradley a thing or two.
 
He
placed the white sheet against the plaster wall, reached over and pulled a
small, gold finishing nail from the container and set its point against the
sheet.
 
Applying pressure with his
forearm to hold the sheet in place and gripping the nail between his thumb and
forefinger, he brought the hammer down with exacting precision.
 
The hammer hit the nailhead, and the nail
exploded into the air, just missing Bradley’s face and ricocheting across the
kitchen floor.
“
Dagnabbit
!”
Stanley yelled, popping his finger in his mouth. Then he turned and looked down
at Bradley. “Go ahead, say it,” he growled. “Not like I wouldn’t have if the
tables had been turned.”

Bradley smiled and shook his head. “I don’t need to say a
thing,” he said. “Just as long as we both know what I would have said.”

Just then the front door opened, and Margaret and Timothy,
Mary’s parents, walked in. “Where can I put these things down?” Timothy asked
,
his arms filled with packages. “I think my darling here
packed everything but the kitchen sink.”

“Over here,” Rosie called. “There’s plenty of room on the
kitchen counter.”

Timothy hurried past Bradley and Stanley to place the
packages where Rosie had suggested, and then he turned to the two men to see
what they were doing. “Well, you aren’t going to get nails through that wall,”
he said.

“What? Why?” Bradley asked.

“Well, that wall was originally the outside wall before the
previous owners added the new dining room and kitchen,” he said. “That’s
concrete underneath that plasterboard.”

Bradley turned to Stanley. “Um, yeah, we knew that,” Bradley
said. “Right, Stanley?”

“Of course we knew that,” Stanley said. “We
ain’t
no
fools.”

“So, Timothy, just to be polite, what would you suggest we
do?” Bradley asked. “We have to hang this curtain so Mary doesn’t see what’s
behind it.”

Timothy slowly looked around the room. “Well, if it were
me,” he said, “I’d string a length of clothesline from that kitchen cabinet
over there,” he pointed to the cabinet at the far end of the kitchen, “to that
curtain rod over there.”
 
He pointed to a
curtain rod in the far corner of the dining room. “Then I’d use clothespins to
attach the sheets.”

“That’s brilliant,” Bradley said. “I just have to run to the
hardware store and get clothesline and clothespins.”

“But we don’t have enough time,” Rosie cried. “Kate and Mary
will be back with the girls in less than an hour. Oh, she’s going to see
everything.”

“I’ve an idea,” Margaret said. “But it means that Mary might
be even a little later getting home.”

“That would actually be a wonderful idea,” Bradley said. “I
haven’t even begun to decorate the front porch yet.”

“Well, why don’t I go over to the school and volunteer to
take the girls trick-or-treating with Kate so Mary can get back to the office,
put her feet up for a bit and finish up on any paperwork or calls she might
have?” Margaret suggested.

“Oh, Margaret, that would be perfect,” Rosie said.

“And then you, my dear,” Margaret said to Timothy, “can give
Bradley a hand here.”

Timothy nodded. “I’ll drop Margaret off at the school and
then run to the hardware store,” he said. “I’ll be back as quick as a flash, so
you can start on your porch decorations right away.”

“Really?”
Bradley asked, excitement
glowing in his eyes.

“Aye, but I get to help once I’m home,” he stipulated.

“Of course,” Bradley said. “I have a feeling I’m going to
need you.”

“Then it’s a deal,” Timothy said. “Come along, Margaret my
love, let’s be on our way.”

The parade lasted thirty-five minutes as the little ghosts,
ghouls and princesses made their way around the school several times so
neighbors and relatives could take photos. “Why do I always forget my camera on
days like today?”
Mary muttered.
 

“Um, you have a smart phone in your pocket,” Mike said as he
appeared next to her. “It has a camera.”

She smiled at him and then quickly looked around to see if
anyone noticed her smiling at an empty space.
 
No one noticed as far as she could see.
 
“Thanks,” she whispered. “You’re a genius.”

She reached into the pocket of the gypsy skirt and pulled
out her phone. Swiping on the camera icon, the screen opened up, and she
focused on Clarissa and Maggie, smiling at the crowd and waving their hands
like the princesses they were. “Perfect,” Mary said, taking a few more shots
just to be sure.

“So, how did you like the presentation?” he asked.

“It was amazing,” she replied softly. “I couldn’t believe it
when Abraham Lincoln came strolling into the classroom.
 
I have never been so star-struck before in my
life.”

“Did you tell him how the play ended?” Mike asked.

“What?” Mary asked, forgetting to keep her voice soft and
getting strange glances from the people around her.
 
She quickly held her phone up to her ear.
“Sorry, I guess my speaker wasn’t working. Is this better?”

She smiled at the people around her who nodded in
understanding.
 
Then, keeping her phone
to her ear, she turned back to Mike. “That wasn’t funny,” she said.

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to be funny,” he said, trying to keep a
straight face. “I just figured maybe his unfinished business had something to
do with not seeing the end. It would bug me forever if I had to walk out before
the end of a movie.”

She stared at him. “You know, for an angel, you have an
awfully weird sense of humor,” she said.

He grinned. “Yeah, I know.” He paused and looked around at
the children, his eyes resting on Clarissa and Maggie as they laughed together.
“You’re doing a good job, Mary,” he said. “Never doubt that.”

“Thanks, Mike,” she replied. “After her teacher suggesting
that I’m raising Wednesday Adams, it’s nice to hear some positive
reinforcement.”

He laughed. “If her teacher only knew,” he said.

Mary chuckled, too. “I think she’d be a little shocked.”

“So the reason I stopped by, other than to check out the
parade, was to let you know that your parents have arrived in town,” he said.
“They’re on their way here, to the school.”

Mary looked around, still keeping her phone to her ear. “Oh,
really?” she asked. “Where are they?”

Suddenly her phone started to ring, and the people around
her looked confused. She smiled brightly and moved away from the crowd.
“Hello?” she answered.

“Mary-Mary,” her father’s voice boomed over the phone.
“We’re here at Clarissa’s school, but there are a lot of other people here,
too. Where can we find you?”

“Well, the parade is ending, and we’re going to be bringing
the kids back to the classrooms now,” she explained. “But if you go to the
front door and down to the office, they’ll give you a pass to the
classroom.
 
Just let them know you’re
Clarissa’s grandparents.”

“We’ll do that,” Timothy said. “See you in a couple of
minutes, darling.”

Mary helped herd the children back into the classroom, and
then she and Kate passed out the treat bags to each student.
 
The teacher played
a CD of
Halloween songs
, and the children were allowed to visit with each other
while the adults put the room back in order.
 
Mary’s parents joined them and pitched in.

“I’m glad Halloween only happens once a year,” Mrs. Spangler
said. “It’s more exhausting than Christmas.”

A few minutes before the children were to be
dismissed,
the volunteers went to the back of the room to
relax for a few moments. Mary slouched into a metal folding chair, stretching her
feet out in front of her.

“Mary, you look tired,” Margaret said.

“Well, my feet are a little sore,” she admitted. “But I’m so
glad I came. I had a great time.”

“Well, I have a suggestion for you,” Margaret said. “And
Bradley seconded it.”

“Oh?” Mary said, sitting up. “What’s that?”

“Well, I volunteered to go trick-or-treating with Clarissa,
and your da volunteered to help Bradley put the front porch in order,” she
said. “So, you can go back to your office for a couple of hours, wrap up
anything you need to and then come back to the house for dinner.”

“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that,” Mary said.

“Darling, you wouldn’t make it down the first block of
trick-or-treating, the way you look,” she said. “Besides, Kate will show me the
ropes, won’t you Kate?”

“Certainly,” Kate said. “Besides, the girls had already
planned to go together.”

“But, I should…” Mary started.

“You should be at your office with the shades pulled down,
your feet up on your desk and soft music playing,” her mother insisted. “And
you should try to relax, because, heaven knows, once your brothers get here,
there will be no relaxing for you.”

Mary paused. Going back to her office and just relaxing
sounded wonderful. Besides, she justified, she could file away all the papers
from the Kristen Banks case. She looked up and smiled at her parents and Kate.
“I would love to do that,” she said.

“Well, good,” Margaret said.

“I’ll just drive home and change first,” Mary said.

“No!” Margaret cried, and then she clapped her hand over her
mouth. “I mean, darling, once you go home, you know there’s no way you’ll get
back out.
 
Bradley will have you helping
him decorate the front porch in no time.”

“But look what I’m wearing,” Mary said.

“It’s Halloween,” Kate inserted. “All of the owners of the
stores in downtown Freeport are dressed up for Halloween today. You’ll fit
right in.”

Mary sighed. “You’re right,” she said. “Okay, I’m going to
escape for a few hours. And I’ll try not to feel too guilty.”

Margaret laughed. “Oh, yes, do feel guilty about allowing me
to take my granddaughter trick-or-treating,” she said. “Go, relax. You deserve
a little downtime.”