3. Lydia and Floyd Go a Haunting

Ghouls, goblins, and ghosts. Oh the delight.

My name is Lydia Hooper. I recently choked on a macaroon cookie and died during my retirement home’s weekly Canasta tournament. It was such a shame. I was in the lead and well on my way to wiping that smug look off of Muriel Winter’s face when fate took a turn and I found myself in the hereafter.

Not that I’m complaining. I had a good long life, eighty-six years. And now I’ve been reunited with my husband Floyd who went through the veil decades before. But choking on a cookie, how embarrassing.

Now I’m a ghost, drifting happily through the old cemetery on Horse Hill Road. People call it the creepy graveyard. I never used to think much of the nickname, but now I’m one of the creepers.

We’re an eclectic bunch. The oldest ghosts have been here for almost three hundred years. They’re well experienced and happy to share what they know. By the time the moon rose on Halloween night I was ready. I had my ghostly shrieks down pat and chains to rattle. I could make the hair stand up on the neck of even the most fearless soul.

“Lydia, it’s time.” Floyd said. “They’re coming.”

Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, in black clothing came through the rusting iron cemetery gate.

“This is it.” Floyd said.

The kids moved through the gravestones. They made their way to the oldest part of the cemetery and plopped onto the ground.

“Now this is the way to spend Halloween.” the boy said.

“It sure is.” said the girl. “Do you think this place is really haunted?”

“Of course it is.”

“Cool.” The girl revealed a mouthful of braces.

Floyd jiggled his chains, the sound echoed through the air.

The boy jumped to his feet. “What was that?” he cried.

The girl looked less startled. “You said this place was haunted.”

“Yeah, but-”

I knew my moment had come. I drifted through the gravestones, rising into the air as I did. I darted at the two teens letting out a hideous shriek. The girl leapt up and ran into the night. I cackled madly.

The boy’s eyes bugged out of his skull. “Julie, wait!” he shouted desperately before sprinting out of sight.

Floyd and I laughed.

“You’re a natural honey.” he said.

“That was almost worth dying for.” I replied. “Who else is coming?” I was anxious to do it again.

“That’s probably it. I think most go to the cemetery on Elm Street.”

“I want to haunt people.” I said petulantly.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

I didn’t like that answer. I hadn’t choked on a macaroon just to scare two kids.

“What can we do?” Floyd asked.

I had an idea about that. There was a certain old lady that needed a good scare.

The Pleasant Breezes Retirement Home was on a pleasant street with pleasant landscaping and pleasantly unoffensive furniture. Floyd and I drifted through the wall into the lobby. At the front desk the night security guard was watching television. I brushed by a potted plant, making its leaves shake. The guard briefly looked up before returning to his program.

Muriel’s room was nearby. I flew down the corridor, whizzing past the nurses and orderlies. Her door was open. I found Muriel sitting in a chair nodding off in front of the television.

Floyd caught up to me. He looked at Muriel and smiled. “Her. She beats you in Canasta, doesn’t she?”

“Every time.” I looked around the room, searching for something suitable for a paranormal encounter. My eyes landed on her dentures soaking in a glass by her bed.

I lifted the glass, moving it around in the air. Muriel’s eyes remained shut, oblivious to my efforts. I put the glass down and switched off the TV. Muriel woke up with a start.

Beside me Floyd chuckled. “That got her attention.”

I rattled my chains and moaned. Muriel cocked her head to one side. Floyd let out a ghoulish howl. I swiped the glasses off her face.

Muriel frowned. She rose from her chair. “Lydia Hopper, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

I dropped the glasses on the floor.

Muriel pointed a bony finger in my face. “How dare you haunt me Lydia.”

“I’ll see you in the graveyard.” Floyd said before vanishing through the wall.

I wasn’t sure what to do next. I had been an old lady, full of experience, now I was a novice again.

Muriel reached out her hand, to my amazement, she touched me.

“How did you know?” I said aloud, even though I wasn’t sure she could hear me.

“Because I’m a witch you fool. How do you think I won all those games of Canasta?”

I stared at her for a second or two and then ran through the wall shouting Floyd’s name all the way back to the safety of the graveyard. I was never doing that again.