This Is A Ghost Story
by: Ralph E. Ahseln  10/2015

III.

Shortly after being introduced to the unfriended Brutus, who was not a horror, but, in truth, a hero, I began seeing all manner of spirits, apparitions and odd manifestations everywhere. Some were nice to know, others, not so much. Whatever they were, they roamed, floated and just generally hung out around at the Manger's Marina . It was like a convention.

The old Wharfinger took it all in stride. Some he talked to, others he'd Shoo away with his cane. I, on the other hand, still had my doubts. OK, I did see them too, but who would believe me? How could anyone believe that, I'd been seeing a restless menagerie of the dead, even during the daylight hours?

Yes, there were some shadows wandering up and down the marina all day long . Mostly it happened during the Wharfinger's evening story ,and most of the time they materialized near the marina office, but there were a few that apparently preferred the daylight.. The night spirits were bad enough, but the daytime ones were really odd.

Take as an example that each Sunday morning at Noon , a faint shape would appear at the office, drift over and "sit" in the chair under the old fashioned Western Electric wall telephone. The phone would ring and the wisp sort of ... Answered it ! One could hear whispers and a soft sigh a few times, then at precisely 1:00 pm, the shape would vanish. Neither the Wharfinger or Stumpy his cat seemed to pay any attention to the comings and goings of the wispy shape.

I'd seen it for the first time a couple of Sundays ago, right after getting in trouble with the electrical work on my boat, I hadn't noticed it before, but now, I was curious as to what or WHO it was.

I 'd been visiting the old Wharfinger this Sunday, when the Misty thing drifted in. It just hung there next to the ancient wall phone. I had to ask.

The old man, Stumpy, still under the chair, inches away from getting the last vestige of tail he had, clipped off by one of the rockers. "Well now," The old man started , in his familiar way. "Ready for another story? " "Yes, I suppose so. But first, I have a question for you". I timidly said. "Shoot away". "Well, Why are all these ghosts here and what the hell is that Ectoplasm over there ?"

The Wharfinger rocked forward and paused. Smiling, that "knowing smile", like he always did. He cleared his throat and said. " Maybe I got a story that'll explain it all to you. sit back and relax while I tell you about ..

Young Mrs. Gray, Waiting

The two of them, holding hands, showed up at the marina office one morning. He was a tall young man, muscles honed and skin browned by days of being outdoors. She was a tiny thing, as dainty as a flower. Her eyes were almond shaped and they never left the man beside her. He was a farm boy from Nebraska and she, a Sansei Japanese-American from San Francisco. There was no question that they were a couple in love !

The farm boy introduced himself and the girl as the newly married , Mr. and Mrs. John Gray. They had come to the Manger's Marina in hopes of finding slip space for his, and now, her, 34 foot Cutter Ketch. It was an old boat that needed a lot of work. He told the young Wharfinger that they wanted to live aboard and spend their spare time restoring it. He'd renamed it, " Gosuto" In her honor.

All through the Fall and Winter of 1940, the couple worked on the boat, until the Spring of 1941. In that short time, they had turned that old wreck into a show piece. The boat was the talk of the marina. Painted and shining bright, it was the home for the youngsters and they loved every inch of it.

He worked in a mill on the other side of town and to make a little extra money, he worked on Sunday's at a garage out on the main highway. She stayed on board, and when the Spring sun warmed the air, she was seen hanging their laundry on a line strung between the shrouds. He called her from work every Sunday at Noon, but since they had no telephone on the boat, she would go to the marina office and stand by the old Western Electric wall phone. Sitting in the chair under the phone, she patiently waited for his call.

Then the mill shut down, the garage was sold and the young man was out of work. They held out until mid April and he decided that the only way he could support them was by joining the military. That way, there would be money each month.

He chose the navy.

The day he left for boot camp, he promised to call her every Sunday at noon just like he had done on all those earlier days.

Her eyes were filled with tears as he boarded the train to leave, but she remembered his promise. True to his word, the very next Sunday, he called the marina office. She would answer with smiles and hang up with tears.

The young man continued calling every Sunday even when he was finally assigned to the fleet. At sea, he still called by using the marine operator. No matter where he was in the world, at Manger's Marina, the phone would ring at exactly 12:00 pm. They would whisper to each other so no one else would hear. For a few minutes, they shared each other's day and then she'd hang up. One could hear her cry as left the office to return to her home, their boat, " Gosuto".

It had gotten cold that Sunday. The docks were coated with the first frost of the season. The girl had carefully walked the few yards from her boat to the warmth of the marina office. She stood by the telephone waiting. The last time he'd called, he'd teased her about being in the cold weather. He said that while he was basking in the tropical sun of Hawaii, she must be freezing. He had just been assigned to the battleship USS Arizona now anchored in Honolulu . The last time he'd called, it was November the 30th and he'd laughed when he said that he was getting a tan even though it was that time of the year. Now, it was a week later, and as she looked up at the Marina clock she saw that it was 11:10 AM . "Too early" she thought, but she'd wait there until he called.

At 8:10 Hawaii time, 11:10 West Coast time, December 7th 1941, a Japanese B5N2 "Kate" bomber watched it's 1700 pound bomb, strike the forward Starboard side of the battleship USS Arizona.

The entire forward section of the vessel , from turret number two to the bow, disappeared. As did most of the crew of that ship.

At precisely 12:00 Noon, Pacific time, December 7th 1941, the old telephone in Manger's Marina office... rang. He was calling !

Strangely, Mrs. Gray was never sent an internment camp, as many of her generation were, so every Sunday from that day on, Mrs. Gray would walk to the office, stand next to the wall phone and wait. Exactly at noon, the phone rang, she would pick up the handset and with tears in her eyes, whisper into the mouth piece.

As the decades past, Mrs. Gray never missed a Sunday. Each year she became more silver haired and bent with the lonely years that weighed upon her.

Those who were in the marina office during one of the calls, swear that each time the phone finished ringing, and the handset was taken out of is cradle, it was a very young Japanese looking girl who whispered into the phone's mouthpiece.

One late Sunday evening, relatives found the old woman, now in her 90's, sitting in her cabin, clutching the wedding photograph of she and her young sailor. A beautiful smile on her face but there was no life left in her.

Since that day, before 12:00 PM on every Sunday, the shadow of Mrs. Gray enfolds itself around the phone on the wall. Then at exactly Noon, you will hear the phone ring, If you are quiet, you might hear some sighs and whispers.

The old Wharfinger paused for a very long time. He puffed on his pipe, coughed his old man 's cough then turned to me. "Sunny' he whispered, " The reason so many souls are wandering here about is,.. They need to find what they've lost. For some, it's friends, others it's yearning for their past. Some are angry, some are trying to help others. Some just want to stay close to the living" .

The old man smiled and continued. "There's a few that didn't finish what was important to them, and a few just want to watch over what they treasured before." "Mrs. Gray is a good example. She's keeping her man close and will forever".

I looked to the old wall phone and the apparition was still there. The handset was suspended in space and I heard those gentle sighs I'd heard before.

As I sat there watching, Stumpy the cat got up and sauntered over to where the sprite was. The cat continued on its path and then... passed through the thin haze that was Mrs. Gray. Of course there wasn't any substance to the wisp. It had ceased being solid flesh some time ago. I stifled a giggle when I thought of the oddity of a cat walking THROUGH her.

Stumpy continued on its journey, wandering around the office floor in cat style, until it came to my feet and me sitting in a chair. The Cat yowled a yawn and walked to where my legs were and... back out of them!, Then....it leaped upon my lap and sat where I was sitting. Only, it didn't sit ON my lap, it passed through my lap !

That damned cat had simply jumped THROUGH me. It curled up in what had been my lap. Stumpy the cat, arched his back about where my belt buckle was.

I looked THROUGH me at the cat now sitting in the same chair I was sitting in !

Oh my god! I knew then why I'd been able to see all those other apparitions. I was....ONE of them.

"Now ya understand, Sonny ? " The old Wharfinger chuckled " Remember that electrical stuff on your boat you was working on ? ... Well, That electrical stuff is a might dangerous sometimes"..

Lately, I don't try to fix stuff on my boat "Exspiravit", After all, I was electrocuted once. I don't want to think of what might happen the next time !

I've made a lot of friends with most of the marina's shadows. Oh , mind you, not all of them, but I have shaken the hand of Brutus and called him Friend, I help Arno walk his rounds sometimes, and every Sunday at noon, I sit in the marina office and listen to sweet words in the whispers of a young Sansei girl, talking to her sailor farm boy.

r. ahseln October 30, 2015

Episode I

Episode II