Short Ghost Stories

#15 Smee

"No," said Jackson with a deprecatory smile "I'm sorry. I don't want to upset your game. I shan't be doing that because you'll have plenty without me. But I'm not playing any games of hide-and-seek."

It was Christmas Eve, and we were a party of fourteen with just the proper leavening of youth. We had dined well; it was the season for childish games; and we were all in the mood for playing them — all, that is, except Jackson. When somebody suggested hide-and-seek there was rapturous and almost unanimous approval. He was the one dissentient voice. It was not like Jackson to spoil or refuse to do as others wanted. Somebody asked him if he were feeling seedy.

"No," he answered, "I feel perfectly fit, thanks. But," he added with a smile which softened without retracting the flat refusal, "I'm not playing hide-and-seek."

"Why not?" someone asked. He hesitated for a moment before replying. "I sometimes go and stay at a house where a girl was killed. She was playing hide-and-seek in the dark. She didn't know the house very well. There was a door that led to the servants' staircase. When she was chased, she thought the door led to a bedroom. She opened the door and jumped — and landed at the bottom of the stairs. She broke her neck, of course."

We all looked serious. Mrs. Fernly said, "How terrible! And were you there when it happened?" Jackson shook his head sadly. "No," he said, "but I was there when something else happened. Something worse."

"What could be worse than that?"

"This was," said Jackson. He hesitated for a moment, then he said, "I wonder if any of you have ever played a game called 'Smee'. It's much better than hide-and-seek. The name comes from 'It's me,' of course. Perhaps you'd like to play it instead of hide-and-seek. Let me tell you the rules of the game."

"Every player is given a sheet of paper. All the sheets except one are blank. On the last sheet of paper is written 'Smee'. Nobody knows who 'Smee' is except 'Smee' himself — or herself. You turn out the lights, and 'Smee' goes quietly out of the room and hides. After a time the others go off to search for 'Smee' — but of course, they don't know who they are looking for. When one player meets another he challenges him by saying, 'Smee'. The other player answers 'Smee', and they continue searching.

"But the real 'Smee' doesn't answer when someone challenges. The second player stays quietly beside him. Presently they will be discovered by a third player. He will challenge and receive no answer, and he will join the first two. This goes on until all the players are in the same place. The last one to find 'Smee' has to pay a forfeit. It's a good, noisy, amusing game. In a big house, it often takes a long time for everyone to find 'Smee'. Perhaps you'd like to try. I'll happily pay for my forfeit and sit here by the fire while you play."

"It sounds a good game," I remarked. "Have you played it too, Jackson?" "Yes," he answered. "I played it in the house that I was telling you about." "And she was there? The girl who broke-"

"No, no," said someone else. "He told us he wasn't there when she broke her neck." Jackson thought for a moment. "I don't know if she was there or not. I'm afraid she was. I know that there were thirteen of us playing the game, and there were only twelve people in the house. And I didn't know the dead girl's name. When I heard the whispered name in dark, it didn't worry me. But I tell you, I'm never going to play that kind of game again. It made me quite nervous for a long time. I prefer to pay my forfeit at once!"

We all stared at him. His words did not make sense at all.

Tim Vouce was the kindest man in the world. He smiled at us all.

"This sounds like an interesting story," he said. "Come on, Jackson, you can tell it to us instead of paying a forfeit."

"Very well," said Jackson. And her is his story.