The Haunting of Stafford Hall:
“Why don’t you get off my back about it boy. This is the last time I’m telling you–no more questions about that damned house!”
Jack knew his father meant business, but he stared at him awhile longer, foolishly hoping he would budge, say something about the house, anything, but his father ignored him as always, instead focusing on the football game blaring from the small antenna television in the far corner of the living room. Jack got from the couch and sulked down the hall to his bedroom. He locked the door behind and jumped beneath the sheet. Both arms tucked behind his head, he stared at the ceiling, trying his very best to quell the burning curiosity about the thirty-six room mansion, Stafford Hall, sitting upon the hill overlooking the town. Today, he had learned something new about the house. Something eerily strange that only fed the desire to know more.
Jack got up from his bed, walked across the room to the computer desk, opened the panel drawer and dug around until he found his cell phone. He scrolled down the contacts until he reached Jeremy. He composed a new message: “Yo man, you up for tonight?”
Jeremy would know immediately what he was referring to. Jack hit “send.” He laid the phone on the desk and shook the computer mouse until the monitor powered alive. He clicked open an Internet Tab and a default Google screen appeared. He searched the words, “stafford hall paranormal activity” and scrolled through various articles, most of which he had already read before. Were the stories he heard really true?
All the town’s residents know of Stafford Hall and its history. Made of old weather-stained white brick, it was the single biggest structure for thirty miles. You couldn’t miss it. And Jack’s earliest experience of the brick mansion was when he was just starting primary school, riding the bus every day to and fro and passing by the cast iron gate that surrounded the house’s perimeter.
The older kids on the bus were the first to warn him that the mansion was reportedly haunted by a women who wore an infamous silk dress. Though in those days, the story morphed with the imaginations of the children telling them, including Jack’s One older boy promised there was a monster in the cellar and the woman in the silk dress stuck around because she was the monster’s tamer. Another stated the woman was murdered, and ever since, she floated around and haunted the mansion and the town because the killer had been tried and set free. Despite of the various versions Jack had heard over the years, the woman in the silk dress was the common thread. He figured there had to be some truth behind the whole mystery.
Buzzzzz.. Jack’s phone vibrated. A new message from Jeremy. “Sup dawg, I’m down but I think it’s gonna rain.”
Jack’s heart wrenched beneath his chest. Since last Wednesday when Jack was in Bill’s barbershop on main street, while getting a trim, he had overheard two elderly men conversing and one mentioned passingly that the owners of Stafford Hall were departing on a month long trip to Europe. Jack’s anticipation to learn the whole truth reached a pinnacle because here was what could be his only chance to find out personally himself. He didn’t care wether it may rain or not. He typed to Jeremy , “This is our only shot. No mind the rain. Let’s go”
Butterflies swarming uncontrollably in his stomach, he walked to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He changed into a pair of top and bottom long johns, polyester pants, and grabbed a hanger with a yellow raincoat from the closet. He had no idea when he last wore this dusty thing. He dressed in the mirror watching himself in silence. He set down to catch his thoughts, hardly believing that in a short while he’d learn the truth about the haunting—but more importantly—about whether life really did have a unseeable, darker dimension.
A fundamental part of Jack—younger version of who he was today—wanted to believe that ghosts existed in kind of innocent way that he once believed a philanthropic fat man dispersed gifts to the needy every Christmas. But with his own limited experience of life, Jack was not a complete believer in the paranormal realm, nor this business of Ghosts. Like Santa clause, where the heck was he after all these years? Even if he somehow existed and he had an aversion to being seen. I’m still being bad and the gifts are still coming. Something’s off, Jack once thought.
Buzzzzz.. The phone vibrated with one New Message from Jeremy.
“I’m ready when you are”
It was really going down. Jack nervously typed his reply, “I’ll be down in ten, have your rain gear and a flashlight, and a spare.”
Jack tucked the phone into his pocket and went
to work like a trained solider on the precautions they had
previously discussed in order to prevent the risk of parental
involvement. He stuffed pillows beneath his sheets, imitating a
sleeping version of himself in case his dad came in to check on
him. Then he flicked off the light before opening his window and
jumping down the four foot leap to the lawn. He swept a final look
over the darkened room. He was satisfied that he hadn’t left any
blatant clues that would confirm that Jack really was not the hump
sleeping on the bed. He eased the window close and headed off in a
brisk jog towards Jeremy’s.
The jog to Jeremy’s farmhouse on Winchester Road usually took Jack
about seven minutes, but because he forgot to change into rain
boots, he zigzagged to avoid the giant puddles in the road, and so,
arrived closer to ten.
Jeremy was already waiting him by the giant oak with a rope swing just as planned. Jack kept his voice low, “You got that spare flashlight?”
Jeremy reached into his jacket and tossed an eight inch mini maglight to him.”Thanks,” said Jack, checking the button to make sure the light worked.
Crickets and creaks of the wet night surrounded them a they stood there. Jeremy looked ridiculous in his hooded jacket, which was really just a long duffle coat. Jack was sure that he, too, looked equally conspicuous in the manner that kids often do during winter storms, well bundled, prepared for anything and everything.
“Did your make your bed like I told you?”
Jack laughed steaming breath into the night. “Even if my dad checks, he won’t know a thing.”
“Good, good, let’s go” said Jeremy suddenly, in his sort of domineering style that Jack was accustomed. After all, Jeremy was a senior, and Jack’s elder by three school years. They sauntered at a brisk pace over the bumps and hills of the country road, heading across the opposite side of town where Stafford Hall was hidden among the thorntangles and bushes of more dark forestry.
Jack felt utterly enthralled as they cut through the blinking yellow intersection of the town square, dead at this time of night again as they had expected. Jack wondered what Jeremy was thinking—how he felt about entering the supposedly haunted mansion. Jeremy was older and more confident, and as far as Jack could tell, seemed up to this point to be completely sure of their current course of action. Yet was Jeremy just acting tough skinned, but underneath that teenage shell, really felt how Jack was starting to feel–concerned?
A pair of yellow headlights like two glistening eyeballs peeked from the treeline in the distance that they were currently walking toward and both boys moved onto the curb so the vehicle could pass. If this was a cop car, the officer would take one look at them in their bulky gear and know that they were up to no good at this time of night–their plan would be ruined. Jack tensed, balling both hands into tight fists as the unidentified vehicle neared.
Jeremy whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Relax–if it’s a cop, he’ll know something is up if you’re shaking like a five-year-old girl on her first day of school.”
The headlights flashed by their faces. An innocent minivan.
Jeremy shook his head disapprovingly, “Hope you’re not jumpy when we break into this crib.”
“I’m not scared” Jack retorted.
Jeremy halted on the curb, looked both ways, then said in a warning, “You better not turn sour on me if we break in there and find ourselves a ghost.” Jeremy crossed into the empty street.
Jack caught up to him “I ain’t afraid of no ghost.”
Jeremy smiled deviously. ” We’ll see soon enough.”
They walked side by side toward the dark forest ahead. Jack wasn’t afraid insofar as ghosts were a myth. Up to this point, he had never considered how he would react if he actually found one. He had hereto imagined entering the mansion and finding room after room of antiquated furniture with dusty tapestries, but no ghosts. He envisioned Stafford Hall as the perfect Hollywood setting for ghosts, which would explain why the rumors had once started–but no real ghosts.
The dark forest swallowed them up and their wet footfalls were the only sound of human activity. Down this road, around a curve, then a left, and a short distance more and they’d arrive at the cast iron gate to the mansion. Jack’s stomach twisted in hard knots at the thought.
Jeremy’s apparent determination gave Jack
assurance that things would go as planned. The family would be
away, the house empty, and they’d go in and prove ghosts weren’t
real, then they be out and home in bed before dawn to tell their
tale. Yet still, as they tromped toward the house, near and nearer,
a deep voice within Jack’s soul wanted to grab hold of him and yell
out, something is off!
“There can’t be ghosts, there just can’t be,” said Jack aloud,
sounding more as a question than a statement.
Jeremy’s face was completely dark except for the ambient reflection in his eyes. “Oh buddy–sounds like something got you second guessing our plan.”
It’s something I heard earlier. It has me a little paranoid.”
Jeremy stopped and starred at Jack. A creek cascaded somewhere nearby. “Speak your peace. I don’t wanna walk myself into something I can’t get out of. And by that, I’m not talking about no ghosts. I’m talking about the serious load of shit we’ll both be in if we get caught breaking and entering.”
Jack waved him on. “No it’s nothing like that. Let’s talk and keep moving.”
“What is it then?”
Jack didn’t know whether he should tell him. He starred off into the shadows and strange outlines of the dark woods surrounding them. Jeremy didn’t look to be scared, or worried, like himself; however, if Jack told him about what he had heard earlier today, then it might change everything about Jeremy’s demeanor. He might not even want to go any further. That’s how jack was feeling.
“—Are you gonna tell me or just leave me hanging?” Jeremy demanded.
“Ehhh, I don’t know if you’ll like what you hear.”
“Stop dancing around already. Go on with it—”
About a hundred paces ahead, Jack could see the glimmer of a road sign, yellow arrows pointing left. They were getting awfully close. Jack felt raw intensity coursing through his capillaries. Near and nearer…
“JACK!” yelled Jeremy.
Jack jumped. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell you. But there’s no turning back if you get scared.”
“Okay,” said Jeremy.
“Remember I told you how I thought it was strange that every time I mentioned Stafford Hall around my dad, he’d be quick to hush me up and to tell me never to mention that house again. At first, I thought he was just tired of hearing about the place, seeing how he lived here his whole life and probably heard the stories a millions times. But apparently, back when my dad was a teenager, he did the same thing we’re doing now. Jimmy Graham filled me in today while at the lunch table that his father went there with my dad when they were in high school.”
“Is that supposed scare me?” Jeremy asked, sarcasm in his voice.
They rounded a sharp turn which sloped to a precipitous decline. Once the road leveled, Jack continued. “My dad would always say, I don’t want no talk about no darn ghosts. You better believe they’re not real. It’s all a fairy tale like the tooth fairy and Santa Claus.” Jack pointed a mock finger, “Boy, let me warn you, I better never find you wonderin’ up there or your ass will be in a world of pain.”
Jeremy shot Jack a dismissive look. “So what? Obviously your dad didn’t find anything in the mansion or else he’d believe in ghosts.”
“See, that’s where I think you’re wrong and I’ve been wrong up until today. In all the hundred of times I’ve asked about Stafford Hall, why wouldn’t my dad mention he snuck up there with Jimmy’s dad when he was younger? Why wouldn’t he just tell me he didn’t find any such ghosts or hauntings? Wouldnt that nip all my curiosity in the butt? Wouldn’t that stop my questions right there and then? Obviously, he did find something in that mansion and it scared him and Jimmy’s Graham’s dad so badly that they vowed to never talk about that day again.”
“Damn. You know what I think?”
“What?”
Jeremy socked him hard in the arm. “I think you should stop being a puss and thinking too much into it.”
On the left of the road, jutting diagonally out of the ground, was a pole topped with a green road sign. It read: Dahill road. The boys nodded to each other, followed the road, and began the ascension to the front gate. This was it. Closer and closer. A desperate voice of protest still sounded off at the forefront of Jack’s thoughts—You fool, turn around before it’s too late.
But Jack clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the voice to the best of his ability. Around he noticed treeline thinning. The cloudy sky sprawled into view as they trudged along the cracked asphalt and neared the front gate.
There was no more time to think. The cast iron bars, towering ten feet high, stopped them from going any further. There was an insignia with the letters SH. Jeremy gave the gate a jiggle. “Looks like this is where we jump.”
“Guess so.”
Jeremy got over first, making sure to lift his body above the rusting spikes. Jack had a little more difficulty, but once he got his leg over, he hopped down to the ground without problem.
Jeremy kneeled and tightened his laces. “We gotta make this quick. In, sweep the halls, out. No lingering.”
Jack bowed his head, “Agreed, Quick as lightning.”
“And no lookin’ for that room.”
Jack looked at Jeremy quizzically because he misheard him. “What you say?”
“You know, the room.” Jeremy stood up from ground. “Screw going into or anywhere near that room. If this place is haunted, we’ll know the moment we enter. There’s no need to go digging in the cellar for something we don’t know nothin’ about”
“Right,” Jack said, not really hearing his own voice because he was too lost in his thoughts. Jack felt like he was floating just above his body, watching himself, as they started up the smoothly paved cobblestone driveway. The giant silhouette of the mansion towered at the top of the hill like a black wooly mammoth.
How did he forget about the room? Jack had read many references to the beast secretly locked somewhere amongst the thirty six rooms. As the story went, any person who searched for the beast died soon thereafter. First a judge in 1924; then a child of the family who owned the house. The judge met a tragic accident; then the sudden illness of the poor child. Even Jeremy didn’t want to take any chances searching for that room.
Would they really know if the house were haunted the moment they entered? Jack hoped so, as opposed to walking aimlessly through the halls, he’d like to know what he was walking himself into.
They pushed over the last hill, Jack’s hamstrings burning from the walk. They climbed several stairs and stood before the glow of the front of the mansion.
“Bro, this place is bigger than I thought,” Jeremy pointed out.
Jack gulped. “Awh, man” The anticipation in his mind had instantly transformed into a palpable pressure underneath his chest. “We better make this quick” Jack repeated.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home. Good, good…in and out.” Jeremy sounded carefree, but his eyes were wide and alert reflecting the mansion’s glowing lanterns.
Giant corinthian columns towered in front of the sodden white brick mansion with its early nineteenth century structure which silhouetted against the dark night of a time long ago when only whites owned the plantations around here, and so, lived in the giant houses, while the blacks, dwelled in the shacks like dogs such as the fragments of the hay barn to the left.
“You ready?” asked Jeremy. “No turning back once we start.”
“I think we already started,” Jack said, his voice shaky.
“Okay, good. I’ll take the left, you the right.” Jeremy took out his flashlight and clicked it on. “You find any entrance points. We meet at the back and we go from there.”
Jack fumbled into his coat pocket and removed the mini mag. Jeremy’s rainboots squeaked on the wet lawn as he went around the left side of the mansion . Jack inhaled a large breath from the cool night and forced himself to part toward the right.
The house was much bigger than either boy imagined. It stretched about half the length of a football field with about twenty windows side by side. There was a grass corridor with some overgrown weeds where Jack could wall between the white brick wall on one side and dense forestry on the other. Jacks eyes drifted to the woods, which echoed with all sorts of noisy insects. The forest behind him was a great place for something to hide, Jack thought as he went from window to window, checking whether any were unlocked. None were.
All the ground level windows had so far been bolted tight. If neither he nor Jeremy could find some sort of unlocked entrance point, then the only option they were left with was to make one. It was bad enough they were trespassing. Jack didn’t like the thought of breaking and entering.
Jack pushed on a window and although it seemed like it would budge, it slid open three inches and got stuck. Jack pressed all his strength underneath the wood but it didn’t move. He peeked through the glass, trying to view the jam. But the window was dusty and the room dark.
All the remaining windows were shut so he walked another thirty feet to the back. Jeremy was already on the terrace waiting for him. “No luck for me,” greeted Jeremy.
“Me neither, but there was a window that opens enough to fit my hand in.”
“There were some on my side like that. But no, we don’t need any broken glass. We need a window that opens.” Jeremy exhaled a breath of audible frustration.
Jack agreed. “Me too. I want to keep this a clean as possible.”
Jack shifted his eyes from Jeremy. The night around him had become frigid, his breath was frosty, and he shrugged his jacket tighter as a chill ran up the base of his spine. He really didn’t want to break in. He imagined what his dad would do already. Add a shattered window and the costs of repair. Jack looked toward the back of the house. There was a wide balcony with two windows and a patio door. “Jeremy, maybe we can climb up there and check those windows.”
Jeremy’s blond hair shimmered from the bright, buzzing blue lamp that illuminated the back of the house. He shook his head, a devious smile curling across his lips as he beat the flashlight into his palm.
Jack’s eyes pled with Jeremy to try his alternative. Jeremy examined the wooden cross bars and the twelve-foot climb to the top. He shook his head. “Waste of time. There’s no guarantee those windows are unlocked. Then if we need an escape, we have to jump down the balcony and lose more precious time.”
“Come on, man. One try. ”
Suddenly, Jeremy shined the flash-light inches from Jack’s eyes, blinding him. Already tense from what they were doing, the sudden move startled Jack. “Jesus,” he said.
Jeremy yanked the flashlight away. “You goin’ soft on me now? Huh? You better tell me?”
Jack backed away and tugged his jacket. “No, I’m not turning soft. I’m just trying to keep our asses out of trouble.”
Jeremy used the flashlight as a pointer, “Listen, buddy. We gotta get down there and find ourselves a broken window.”
Jack wanted to protest but Jeremy made a good point. The longer they were out here snooping around, then the higher the risk of one of their parents realizing they were missing and them being caught.
“As I thought.” Jeremy turned and strutted down to the side of the house that Jack had previously checked. “This side is facing the woods so it’s less noticeable.” Jeremy walked and Jack followed, the tight feeling returning to his chest. Jeremy stopped before the window closest to the ground, just two and a half feet high. Jeremy stood with his legs wide, ready, a wild sneer strewn on his face. “The baby might want to cover his ears from the loud noise.”
“Ha ha, real funny—”
Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK! Little shards of glass burst everywhere. Jeremy used the butt of the flashlight to clear the pieces still stuck to the frame. “Ehhh a little more… ” He used the sleeve of his jacket to get the rest off the sill. “Looks good to me.” He glanced back at Jack who stood in open mouthed awe.
“You crazy son of a gun—you actually broke a window.”
“Oh Yes I did.” Jeremy stepped aside. ” After you.”
The tightness in jacks sternum felt like it was about to explode but Jack stuck the maglite in his mouth and crawled through the window anyway. Glass crunched beneath his shoes as he stepped into the darkened parlor. He quickly beamed the flashlight around the room; old family portraits hung crookedly from the stucco walls and two huge couches were draped in dusty cloth . A doorway opposite the window led to a hall. “I think this is where we go,” Jack whispered.
Jeremy climbed through. “Man, this place is old.” Jeremy walked over to one of the pictures and examined the fat lady in the portrait. “Youch…You catch a look at this hot mama?”
“No–but I’d like to hurry.” said Jack, not shifting his eyes from his light shining on the doorway as if he expected someone to walk through.
“Calm down , killer.” Jeremy met Jack by the door. “How you wanna do this? We can split up, do a run through, then meet back here in ten minutes.”
Jack didn’t like the sound of that plan. “You think it’s the best idea if we split up? What if one of us stumbles across something we aren’t supposed to? We should stick together.”
“Damn, I thought you weren’t a puss.”
Jack shook his head. “I just don’t think we should search through this mansion alone because there’s always the possibility that there’s something–or somebody– in these over thirty some rooms that isn’t supposed to be here.”
Jeremy looked back at the shards of glass on the floor. “If there’s anyone here by some crazy chance, like the family didn’t go to Europe, then,” Jeremy pointed directly at the broken glass. “We don’t need to worry about getting caught. They’d already know we’re here.”
“You got a point. But…”
“But what? You’re a big sour puss?”
“NO, IM NOT. I’ll do what I have to.”
“Good. Cause it’s time to roll.” Jeremy went through the doorway and disappeared from sight. Now the pressure in Jack chest had mounting into his stomach. Jack caught his breath one final time and followed. The doorway opened into a long hall, lined with many doors next to family portraits of long deceased human forms. Jeremy was down the hall about twenty feet ahead.
Jeremy turned another corner at the end of the hall. Jack instinctively looked over his shoulder at the dark hall behind. A solitary crack of light came from the door of the room they had entered from. Jack felt the blackness behind engulfing him, so he sprinted to catch up Jeremy who was skipping jovially, humming a tune Jack couldn’t quite identify, and acting altogether like a madman under the circumstances of what they were currently getting themselves into. Jack smiled. Jeremy was one crazy fool. As outlandish as his behavior may be, it was a sort of comfort to Jack. If you were ever to commit a crime such as breaking and entering into a mansion, Jeremy’s crazy self was the exactly the person to do it with.
At the end of the hall, Jeremy had halted and was shining his light at something toward the ceiling. It was magnifying the flashlight into a gargantuan white glow. Jack jogged and caught up.
“Ohh, such pretty colors,” said Jeremy in a voice of mock hypnosis, shaking his light up at a giant chandelier made from thousands of tiny glass beads. They had found the main lobby. The mahogany front door was located to the left and an expansive staircase rose to the second floor where more doors led to more rooms.
“This place is like something out of the movies, “Jack admitted, his voice echoing eerily.
Jeremy was still wiggling his flashlight and creating a disco ball effect from the chandelier. “Look at all them colors.”
“Yeah, cool, but we’re still wasting time.”
“Colors colors colors.”
“You okay over there? Looks like you’re getting a little over exited.”
Jeremy finally stopped, looking seriously. “Yeah I’m done.”
“You sure? Cause I can leave you alone?”
Jeremy wiggled the light at the chandelier for another few seconds then stopped. “Ahhhhhh, now I’m good.”
Jack guffawed. “You’re one crazy partner in crime.”
“Oh, tonight, you only get a glimpse of my other half.” Jeremy darted to the top of the stairs, sat on the polished banister, and slid back down with his arms flailing in the air. “Whoooooo-yahhh.” He touched down a couple feet in front of Jack , arms out wide like a snowboarder, crumpling the oriental rug into a heap across the wooden floor. He stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m too good.”
Jack shook his head, resisting the urge to burst into wild laughter. The room was too quite, all the noises amplifying off the carved spandrel. He wanted to stick to the plan. Get in, get out.
“Man you gotta lighten up, ” Jeremy said, annoyed. “You want the upstairs, or downstairs?”
Jack gulped. “I think I’ll go downstairs.”
Jeremy paced off toward the main hall. He yelled, “You get the upstairs for being a B-I-O-T-C-H” Then just like that, Jeremy and his flash-light vanished in the maze of the main hall.
Jack suddenly found himself alone with nothing but a tiny maglight and a task he was unsure he could complete alone. The tightness in his chest had gone away for a short while because of Jeremy’s coolness but now was back like Jack had been bit by a copperhead and was now experiencing the venomous muscle convolutions. He crouched and swallowed for air. Pull yourself together. Jack.
He didn’t want to search the upstairs alone. Instead, he could head to the left and wait in the room with the broken glass till Jeremy returned, and if Jeremy asked, jack hadn’t seen any ghosts upstairs.
He managed to breath easy and wobble to his feet. He slumped over to the stairs and sat down. He rested his head in both hands. All he had to do was walk up those steps and sweep the halls. No probing, or calling for trouble. A simple sweep through to prove the nonexistence of ghosts. That’s what he came here for. Jack could go to the left and lie to Jeremy, but then he’d be lying to himself. What’s more, the mystery of this mansion and his father would never be solved.
Jack mustered his strength and forced one foot at a time up the staircase. When he reached the top, there were four separate corridors to choose from. Jack wanted to run back downstairs right out through the broken window because he knew this wasn’t going to be a simple sweep.
Jack looked back over the stairs to the entranceway toward the left. Go back and lie. You won’t find any ghosts or demons upstairs anyway. It’s all just a