Bayou Pt 2. Edwin

(My own personal artwork for my Bayou series)

Welcome to the Bayou ghost story series! if you haven't read part one I suggest going there first to catch up on the ghostly happenings and I'll see you back here for part two.

Part Two

Bayou lived in a beautiful creaky house. It was set back from the pavement by a moderately sized, wildly overgrown garden, full of brambles that filled with blackberries and attracted the crows to come and pick them, often dropping them all over the straight garden path and staining the paving stones as well as bare feet that ventured over them. There were beautiful flowers too, in May, the row of Hawthorn trees, that grew at an angle, in the direction of the prevailing wind, developed thousands of white blossoms that looked delicate against the dark thorny wood. As was the nature of most things that grew in the garden, elements of beauty among things that were sharp. This, Bayou had learned to her great regret, meant a sorry lack of places to build an outside den without picking up scratches.

Inside, despite her best efforts, was somewhat gloomy. She had a theory that this had something to do with her ghosts, who did not show up very clearly in daylight, she suspected they might be drawing all the ghostly curtains in the house in a bid to remain visible and audible, which, being alive, she had no influence over.

audibly Downstairs there were two large reception rooms, both sparsely furnished, one still in the style that Marjorie had favored when she was alive (because she became very depressed when it was monkeyed with) the other was mostly occupied by a tent that Bayou had put up and disappeared into when she wanted some alone time. Behind the tent room was the kitchen and a small backyard that Bayou referred to as the 'urban jungle' and was not accessible unless you happened to have a machete on hand.

Upstairs there was a bedroom and bathroom with high ceilings and an echoey quality to them, a snug airing cupboard and finally an attic that Bayou had never been in because she couldn't reach the chord to pull down the ladder and sort of considered as private ghost territory.

When Bayou had first gotten into the bath the sky had been blue, but she'd sat, watching the grey clouds slowly roll in, the hawthorn trees get caught up in the rising breeze. Before long rain drops were pinging against the window. She watched each droplet land and snake away out of sight. The storm found it's way in through the roof and despite the ghostly pan Marjorie had fetched for her when she had heard Bayou's exclamation about it raining inside as well as out, there was a small puddle forming (a general mismatch in the ability of a ghost receptacle to contain real rain.) The window was a torrent now, it was hard to see the street, she examined her fingers that had pruned up from soaking in the water so long, something large and bright red caught her attention, it seemed to making it's way through her garden and towards the front door.

Eli stood in her doorway dripping wet despite the red umbrella, which, she explained, was a bit stiff and she hadn't been able to open until she'd already absorbed most of the rainstorm. An unhappy mewling could be heard from somewhere among her layers of jumpers, "It's okay Dusty, we're here now." She reassured it, pulling down her collar to allow a damp Maine Coon to jump out and shake himself gingerly.

"Dusty?" Bayou repeated, holding out her hand for him to sniff, he regarded her, his right eye was blue and his left was green, she slowly blinked at him and he slowly blinked back

"Well, Indus, officially, like the constellation." Eli smiled

Indus rubbed his cheek against Bayou's outstretched palm and slithered past her into her own house, only to be confronted by Salem, the resident ghost cat who had (quite literally) appeared at the top of the stairs to see who was knocking on the door. He was all white, even his eyes seemed this way because his pupils were so faded, he was slightly transparent which brought out Indus' investigative side, the two girls on the porch did not notice as one cat attempted to put his paw through his new acquaintance, his success caused them both to scatter away in opposite directions, neither able to process their surprise at the revelation.

Eli held up a carton of organic milk and cheerfully thrust it in Bayou's direction "here you go, remembered!"

"Why thank you! Would you like a cup of tea?" Bayou asked

"I'd love one and maybe a dry jumper if you wouldn't mind."

With that they disappeared into the house.

Half an hour later, the weather had begun to clear up and a slightly less spooked Indus has taken to stalking among the wilderness of the back garden after enjoying a small bowl of organic milk. Eli and Bayou sat at the kitchen table, Eli wearing a jumper Bayou's grandmother had knitted, they both had a steaming cups of tea, Bayou sipped at an Earl Grey with milk, while Eli expertly brewed a green tea with a lemon slice and honey, the house had not had working central heating for some time so Bayou had invested in a range of teas that more often than not served the purpose of hand warmers.

The pair ignored the fact that a small host of ghosts were watching them with great curiosity from the pickle jar, they knew this because the fridge door had ominously and inexplicably swung open upon Eli's arrival and refused to be closed again.

"Now." Eli announced, opening her bag but taking care not to let Bayou get a look at the contents "are you ready to begin de-ghosting?" she pulled out a stethoscope and enthusiastically began hopping around the kitchen listening to the walls with it.

Bayou and the pickle jar exchanged a glance.

Suddenly she stopped "Here." she said definitively, Bayou knew what it was, it was where Edwin had hidden his love letters from the war, he'd put them safe in a box in a cavity in the wall and plastered over it. It had been wallpapered over so many times Bayou didn't know how Eli could tell there was something in there.

"We need to get whatever's in the wall, out." Some of the ghosts sounded very alarmed by this suggestion and began to whirl around the room helplessly, several of them rushed out of the open doorway, knowing what massive gossips they were, Bayou guessed they'd gone to find Edwin and tell him he was at the centre of an intrigue.

"But that doesn't belong to me it's-"

"I hear I am needed at the wall?" Edwin appeared looking a little bit embarrassed and leaning against the door frame

Bayou smiled, Edwin was one of her favorite ghosts, he was spent most of his time in the attic but on the rare occasions he was seen, his sweet temperament and the care he took to be polite made her wish she saw more of him. She had once caught him on the neighbours porch looking at the cover of the newspaper they had delivered, most of the ghosts showed no interest in current events but Edwin tried to stay updated, he'd been incredibly sheepish about the whole thing. Bayou had offered to subscribe to a regular newspaper and turn the pages for him but Edwin declined and she'd never seen him there since.

"Are you well Bayou?" He asked

"I am Edwin, and yourself?"

"I'm doing very well thank you, are you looking at my letters?"

"With your permission,"

"Please be my guest, I'm not so sad about all that business as I was when I died."

"Of a broken heart?"

"As you know Bayou" he said somewhat wistfully, "but, if a sorry soldier may ask a favor, if you think we should do this, let's do it properly." he walked away into Marjorie's drawing room and the sound of something heavy being dragged across the wooden floor, closely followed by the sound of Marjorie bickering with him while he waved his hand dismissively at her " do NOT wave your hand dismissively in my direction Edwin." he emerged back into the kitchen dragging a ghostly phonograph while the real one remained in the other room.

"There we go!" he seemed very pleased with himself as he put the needle to the record and perched on the counter to watch Bayou and Eli search for the letters he had sent his fiance from the trenches.

[Play the music to create the right atmosphere for reading]

Unlike his usual shy self, Edwin began to recite one of the letters he knew they would find at the top of the box, the last one he had written before coming home, his soul already splintered from the things he had seen through the war of his youth, when he should have been a love sick puppy he was witnessing the violence of what men would do to each other when orders were given. She'd left all of his letters behind, he knew each word by heart from spending so much of his time pondering what to say to her, they sat waiting in an empty house in a neat pile tied together with a bow made of a ribbon she'd used to tie up her hair. He'd added the ones she had written to him, put them all in an army tin he'd kept his emergency first aid in and hidden them in the wall. He died in the chair she had stuck the note to, 'he had taken too long to come home,' it was too much for his poor sad hopeful heart.

"My darling Annie," he began "You have no idea how much I long for a simple morning with you, or to wake up after the sun has risen."

Eli pulled a small sledge hammer out of her bag which Bayou informed her was very alarming.

"I want to wake up with your sleep tangled hair tickling my cheek, to wake up lazily together, I want to make you the most marvelous breakfast that I'll bring to you in bed, and we'll scatter the pillows with crumbs."

The girls began to break through the wall where Edwin indicated.

"I miss the way your nose crinkles up, when you laugh at me, carrying the newspaper in from the doorstep, dancing to the song on the radio in my slippers, spilling tea on that ugly rug we inherited from your great aunt, isn't it awful?"

Bayou felt for the tin and pulled it out of the wall.

"Even before these things are a reality my love, they bring me strength. Until I see my beautiful wife again, I'll send you all the kisses I can fit in the post. kiss, kiss kiss. Edwin."

Eli blew the dust off the lid and Bayou opened it, the record came to an end but the eerie sound of the needle running along the grooves filled the now silent kitchen. They all saw something they hadn't expected.

A box full of letters as Edwin had described, but not one was written to or by him, they all belonged to Bayou.

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