fought on the ground. Soldiers perished within
her walls. Naturally, there were other sad occurrences here, not
having to do with the specific pain of battle. There is the case of
the beautiful Melody herself, daughter of the builder, distraught
by her suitor's argument with her father. She is said to have been
rushing to his defense when she careened down the stairway, only to
die in her lover's arms on the foyer floor, just feet from where we
now sit. There was Eliza, the daughter of General Stone, who might
well have been poisoned by her rival, Sally Beauville, who was,
when accosted, shot dead by the girl's father, who then faced the
hangman's noose. Those are not all the stories. There are so many
more.
"Melody House has stood for nearly three hundred years, and in
that time, we can only imagine all the dramas that have been
lived-and the passions and dreams that have perished here as well.
They say that we are energy. and energy cannot be destroyed. Just
as they say that Melody House is haunted. If ghosts and
spirits are those who remained, their energy still fiercely alive
due to trauma or tragedy, then there would be nothing more natural
than fact that Melody House indeed be haunted! Throughout the
years, many have seen, or have believed they have seen, the ghosts
of those tragic souls. In the early eighteen-hundreds, the
courageous Andrew Jackson, later to be president of the United
States, once spent only half a night here, and mentioned to someone
later that he'd rather face the British army again than spend
another night at Melody House. Some swear there is a woman in
white, still walking the halls. Others have seen soldiers,
still, perhaps, fighting their long-lost battles." Elizabeth
paused, something of a rueful smile on her face. ' 'So. We
shall all join hands, in the circle here created, and see what
haunts or specters might wish to appear, to convey last words,
wishes, or needs."
Electricity had long ago come to Melody House, but tonight,
other than the lights attached to the cameras, there was no
illumination within the dining room except for a single candle
burning in the center of the table.
Darcy had already felt the cold. Whether Elizabeth was able to
communicate with any of the "energy'' remaining in the house or
not, Darcy again felt the sense of being watched. Whatever entity
or entities remained at Melody House, they were watching. Across
the table, she saw Penny shiver.
Darcy felt herself nudged. Hands, yes, hold hands. She set hers
upon the table. She was next to Jason Johnson, a local writer and
historian, and, naturally, another friend of Matt's, and Clint
Stone. Carter was on Clint's other side. Clint covered her hand
warmly with his own, and seemed both amused and curious, as if he
might have an open mind to the happenings. Matt was across the
table, seated next to Elizabeth. He wore a look of carefully
restrained impatience on his hard-sculpted features. Mae, the
woman who had been welcoming to her when she had first walked into
the Wayside Inn, was there, attractively dressed and groomed, her
round face split into a smile of excitement as she sat on Matt's
other side. To round out the group, a pretty young woman with the
improbable name of Delilah Dey, newly elected to the town council,
sat between Jason Johnson and Mae.
David Jenner, of Jenner Electronics, also at the Wayside Inn
when Darcy had first arrived, stood a distance from the group, with
video and audio running. Darcy had considered bringing down
some of her own equipment, but then had decided that this was not
the night for Harrison Investigations' high-tech "ghost buster"
electronics.
"We have joined in a benign and caring circle," Liz said,
addressing the spirits. "We wish to help with any problems, past or
present. We have come in love and friendship, and wish to
communicate with any presence in his house who desires a voice. Our
minds and hearts are open. If there is a presence here, please let
yourself be known."
Darcy
her walls. Naturally, there were other sad occurrences here, not
having to do with the specific pain of battle. There is the case of
the beautiful Melody herself, daughter of the builder, distraught
by her suitor's argument with her father. She is said to have been
rushing to his defense when she careened down the stairway, only to
die in her lover's arms on the foyer floor, just feet from where we
now sit. There was Eliza, the daughter of General Stone, who might
well have been poisoned by her rival, Sally Beauville, who was,
when accosted, shot dead by the girl's father, who then faced the
hangman's noose. Those are not all the stories. There are so many
more.
"Melody House has stood for nearly three hundred years, and in
that time, we can only imagine all the dramas that have been
lived-and the passions and dreams that have perished here as well.
They say that we are energy. and energy cannot be destroyed. Just
as they say that Melody House is haunted. If ghosts and
spirits are those who remained, their energy still fiercely alive
due to trauma or tragedy, then there would be nothing more natural
than fact that Melody House indeed be haunted! Throughout the
years, many have seen, or have believed they have seen, the ghosts
of those tragic souls. In the early eighteen-hundreds, the
courageous Andrew Jackson, later to be president of the United
States, once spent only half a night here, and mentioned to someone
later that he'd rather face the British army again than spend
another night at Melody House. Some swear there is a woman in
white, still walking the halls. Others have seen soldiers,
still, perhaps, fighting their long-lost battles." Elizabeth
paused, something of a rueful smile on her face. ' 'So. We
shall all join hands, in the circle here created, and see what
haunts or specters might wish to appear, to convey last words,
wishes, or needs."
Electricity had long ago come to Melody House, but tonight,
other than the lights attached to the cameras, there was no
illumination within the dining room except for a single candle
burning in the center of the table.
Darcy had already felt the cold. Whether Elizabeth was able to
communicate with any of the "energy'' remaining in the house or
not, Darcy again felt the sense of being watched. Whatever entity
or entities remained at Melody House, they were watching. Across
the table, she saw Penny shiver.
Darcy felt herself nudged. Hands, yes, hold hands. She set hers
upon the table. She was next to Jason Johnson, a local writer and
historian, and, naturally, another friend of Matt's, and Clint
Stone. Carter was on Clint's other side. Clint covered her hand
warmly with his own, and seemed both amused and curious, as if he
might have an open mind to the happenings. Matt was across the
table, seated next to Elizabeth. He wore a look of carefully
restrained impatience on his hard-sculpted features. Mae, the
woman who had been welcoming to her when she had first walked into
the Wayside Inn, was there, attractively dressed and groomed, her
round face split into a smile of excitement as she sat on Matt's
other side. To round out the group, a pretty young woman with the
improbable name of Delilah Dey, newly elected to the town council,
sat between Jason Johnson and Mae.
David Jenner, of Jenner Electronics, also at the Wayside Inn
when Darcy had first arrived, stood a distance from the group, with
video and audio running. Darcy had considered bringing down
some of her own equipment, but then had decided that this was not
the night for Harrison Investigations' high-tech "ghost buster"
electronics.
"We have joined in a benign and caring circle," Liz said,
addressing the spirits. "We wish to help with any problems, past or
present. We have come in love and friendship, and wish to
communicate with any presence in his house who desires a voice. Our
minds and hearts are open. If there is a presence here, please let
yourself be known."
Darcy
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