SHORT STORIES AND SHORT PLAYS

GHOST STORY

     Ghosts throughout history have had a bad press. They are almost always malevolent aiming to frighten the socks off their beholders simply by their appearance. Ghosts in literature speak to those singled out for visual display, as witness the famous ghosts in Shakespeare who utter words of warning. Ghosts are not always threatening but sometimes have a benevolent intent. Of course spirits that do not speak are unnerving , tending to appear at night or in dark corners. Not to be forgotten are the equally famous apparitions in “A Christmas Carol” where the first two to appear do not intend to pose threats; the same can`t be said about the other.
     The main thing about being a ghost is the freedom of movement we enjoy, the ability to be selective in our choice of spectator, and whether we shall appear as a translucent body or a disembodied voice – or both. All these are however outweighed by the fact that we are doomed forever to exist in a kind of restless limbo, or until our “mission” is accomplished. Most of us , it is true to say, are tortured souls , usually having undergone some tragic end while in conventional life. Hence the reputation of certain houses where dirty deeds have been perpetrated, as “haunted”. Many of these hauntings are by particularly restless beings , the poltergeists among us, derived from the German verb “poltern” , to crash about. Such spirits give the rest of us a bad name, seeming to do no good at all. We have given rise to a whole genre of literature as well, but do take exception to the term “GHOSTS” in Ibsen`s drama of the same name where we are used as a synonym for venereal disease.
     One of the major drawbacks of being mortal is the over active  imagination , As the Bard said, one hundred years after me, “How easy is a bush supposed a bear”, in the darkness. On visiting a battlefield or some such, mortals speak of the ghosts of things past when really meaning memories tinged with sadness. What I am trying to say is that not all “visitations” , shall we call them, are sinister and foreboding.
     I myself remember an episode where a ghostly materialisation had quite the opposite intent. It took place in a central London location notorious for the frequency with which death “natural” or otherwise occurred. This building was used a great deal at the time having been a royal stronghold which it still was to some extent in my earthly time. It was a meeting of the Privy Council, high officers of the State, the Monarch`s Secretariat, law makers and eminent clergy. The King himself was absent; the meeting was to report back to His Majesty. I determined to give them something to report!
     The subject under discussion was law; order and punishment. Retribution was by decree then, if not actually by whim. Hence this was really a rubber stamping exercise, a confirmation of the status quo. Capital punishment reigned supreme. Murder was by no means the only offence punishable by death. For example, if one stood in the way of the monarch`s wishes , the executioner was always ready. Something drastic was needed if things were to change.
     Hence my unscheduled attendance towards the end of the meeting and when candles were being lit. It is more atmospheric then , I must admit!  I was waiting in the wall for my moment, having decided that a mute materialisation was best. The Lord Chancellor was summing up.
     “So capital punishment , we are agreed, is to be appropriate for all the listed offences?”
     “Yes”, returned the Archbishop, “the Church is for their continuance. We have nothing against the proposals.”
     “Thank you, Canterbury. I presume the method is to remain the same?” seeking confirmation , the Chancellor looked round the room.
     “It is certainly what the King requires,” replied the Secretary to the Monarch. 
     “Perpetuation of the felonies listed plus the death penalty for those found guilty of treason; death in the traditional manner?” asked the Archbishop of the Chancellor.
     “Indeed,” confirmed the latter, while the Law Officers and the eminent clergy nodded their agreement.
     With satisfied smiles the leaders drained their cups . The lesser lights were happy too; they also had not wanted to see change in the laws of the land. The meeting was about to end on a note of unanimity. I decided that now was the time to make my presence felt, speaking metaphorically.
     The Archbishop was the first to detect me – maybe due to his spiritual calling! My “appearance” was dramatic. What little colour he had, drained away from his face while he became rigid in his chair. His hands trembled against the glass he was holding.
     Who….What is that…..? he uttered in a falsetto voice. All looked in the direction of the Archbishop`s staring eyes, down the long table. I walked if that`s what I can call it , out of the wall, across the room soundlessly, and then disappeared for a moment to allow time for the phenomenon to take effect. The company were dumb-struck and goggle-eyed. The Chancellor found his voice: “It looked like , like…Ann….”
     I decided to reveal myself again. There was no doubt I had been a great success so far. I reappeared to finish my walk. I turned my eyes on each high officer in turn ; and then left through the wall. I could see that the laws of the land were the last things to concern them at the moment. In an instant they reflected upon an inhuman legal system and a barbarous mode of death. They were no longer convinced of the rightness of their methods. I had instigated a change . As the assembly staggered out , they took what they had seen as of religious significance. Their report back resulted in the law being changed; they were frightened men. Of course, time meant nothing to me, but I was concerned about other people.
     Death by beheading, a fate I had myself suffered, was abolished and no more executions of that nature took place in London Tower. I thought my master stroke was looking accusingly at the assembly with baleful eyes deep set in the head held beneath my arm.

© A.B. Finlay Ph.D