From Shadows to Starlight

Ghost Stories

Chapter Two

The lawn is pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return gently at twilight, gently go at dawn, the sad intangible who grieve and yearn. --T.S. Eliot

Ghost Stories

Alana walked up to the small town’s only grocery store, and was surprised to see a large crowd of people inside through the storefront window. She hurried to the door and walked inside to find half the townspeople in the building. They were all surrounding the store owners, Jean-Paul and Marguerite Durand , and old Marchal, who was sitting on a wooden chair, smoking a pipe and arguing with a policeman.

“What’s going on?” Alana made her way over to Madame Marguerite.

The older woman looked at her like she had lost her mind. “What’s going on? Where have you been for the past few months?”

Then the realization dawned on her. “Oh! I’m sorry…I’ve been a bit busy lately and I forgot…the mysterious shop visitor.” She struggled to concentrate on what was happening now and to  remember what had had the whole town talking for months. “Were more items gone this morning when you opened the shop?”

“Yes! A whole pile of food and supplies. It’s been quiet around here for a while, but this morning when Jean-Paul and I came downstairs, there were all kinds of things missing. And then, on the counter, we found a hundred and fifty francs! Far more than everything was worth!"

Alana shook her head. “What I don’t understand is how this person gets into the shop without anyone seeing or hearing anything…”

“It’s easy,” old Marchal interrupted, “if you’re not a person.”

“Not this again, “Jean-Paul groaned.

“I know you don’t believe me Jean-Paul,” Marchal said, “but how else can you explain what’s been going on here in this town? We have a mysterious visitor on our hands.”

“You’re crazy,” Jean-Paul said. “Nobody believes this nonsense you’ve been saying…”

“Nonsense?” Marchal just laughed. “Just ask the others about the things they’ve seen.” He gestured around the crowded room and pointed to a woman. “Madame DuBois…you’re a respected woman in the community. The mayor’s wife. Tell the doubting Thomas here what exactly you have seen.”

The tall, elegantly dressed woman who stepped forward was, as old Marchal had said, the most respected woman in town. She was rich, fashionable, personable, intelligent, and very steady and level-headed. A pillar of the community. But as Jean-Paul looked in her eyes, he saw something there that was anything but sane.

“Madame DuBois.” Jean-Paul took his cap off and gave a small bow.

“Go ahead. Tell Jean-Paul what you saw.” Marchal put his pipe back in his mouth and sat back in his chair.

The entire room grew quiet. Alana’s curiosity was roused. She’d heard rumors about people who had seen strange things around the town, late at night, but they had always been from people like old Marchal, who was known for his tall tales. If Madame DuBois told someone she had seen something, then she had.

“It was late last night. I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the window and looked out. Then I saw something.”

“And what was that, Madame?” Marchal asked.

“I don’t know,” the woman said. “It was late, so it was very dark. But the moonlight hit just right in some places, and I saw…something…up on the rooftop of Monsieur Martin‘s house. Even with the little bit of light it was hard to identify what exactly it was. All I can say about it is that it was a tall, dark figure…it could have been a man dressed in black, but I couldn’t see enough to determine if it really was a man or not, and it was moving so fast, faster than any man I’ve ever seen. It was running and leaping, or maybe flying, from rooftop to rooftop, and it didn’t take long before it was completely out of sight. Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t know what I saw, but I do know it was no ordinary man.”