Chocolate Peanut Drops

It was circa 1920. The small frame house located on a quiet street down by the harbourfront had an innocent enough appearance. The rent was reasonable, especially durnig such lean times, and it would suit her young family just fine. The landlord fumbled with the key to the front door and made a nervous attempt at light conversation. Amanda walked through the empty rooms making plans in the her mind - the girls will have this room because it’s nice and bright, my table will fit nicely here . . . and so on. “It has such charm. I don’t understand why it’s been on the market for so long.” The landlord looked uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “Well, it’s too small for some families, and well um . . .well, the truth is ma’am there was a murder happened in this here house, years ago, and well you know people and their suspicions. It’s been said that it’s haunted.” He gave a huge sigh and looked sheepishly at Amanda. To his relief, Amanda smiled and said “I’ll take it”. What’s in the past is in the past, she figured. This charming little house was too good a deal to pass up. Moving day came and was accomplished with due efficiency. With the children finally tucked securely in their beds, Amanda settled herself at the kitchen table, feeling exhausted but pleased and comfortable with her new surroundings. The kitchen window allowed a warm breeze to flow through her cheery kitchen and she was content. The silence was broken by what sounded like the clang of tea cups. Startled, she jumped from her chair and sprinted to the cupboard. There on their hooks, in two neat rows of four, her teacups were swinging on their hooks as if someone had taken a spoon and playfully run it across them like an xylophone. This was unexplainable and Amanda was mystified. When she recounted this strange occurrence to Omer on his arrival home, he offered that perhaps it was the breeze from the kitchen window. Amanda didn’t think so, but let the matter pass.

In the days that followed, the tea cup tinkling occurred several times more, whether the kitchen window was open or not. In fact, it happened so often that Amanda would simply shout “stop” and then to her profound amazement, the noise would stop - leaving the tea cups swinging on their hooks. Then the mystery heightened. She distinctly heard footsteps coming up the basement stairs and then a soft tap-tap on the door at the top. Surprised that anyone, other than herself, was in the house at the time, Amanada sprung from her chair to open the door . . . but no one was there! When on another day, this happened again, she decided, suspicions aside, she had to contact the local parish priest. Father John was an elderly gentleman and Amanada learned that he had in fact served this community for a few generations. He immediately set about blessing the house, sprinkling sacred Holy Water here and there as he sauntered and chanted prayers through each room and then . . . yes, the basement too. When Amanda placed a cup of fresh hot tea in front of Father John and invited him to sit down, he begain his story . . . “Yes, there was a murder here - long ago. But Amanda, this is not an evil presence.” Amanda nodded her head and agreed. “The ghost(she caught her breath - it was the first time she had described it as such, ”appears to be somewhat . . . “, she hesitated searching for the right word - ”playful”. Father John continued, “Richard Sims and his brother Carl, young gentlemen in their 20s, were occupying this house, oh ‘bout 60 years ago. Carl Sims was shot in the chest by Richard’s hunting rifle. Richard claimed over and over again that it was an accident, that he didn’t intend for it to happen. But the jury found the the Sims brothers were known to quarrel - over money, over women, over whose turn it was to take out the garbage. Richard was brought to trial and was senteneced to 8 years, but died mysteriously in his cell - shortly after his 8 year sentence began. Among his few possessions was a box of fine tobacco and a corncob pipe. It is said that his spirit still haunts this house and that he has an 8 year penance to pay before his soul can be released. The mysterious occurrences you have experiened, Amanda, is Richard paying his penance. Every time some one different moves into this house, Richard must start his penance anew.” Amanda was silent in thought for several minutes. “Well Father, he seems harmless enough.” She had made up her mind to allow Richard Sims to complete his penance and to allow him (and this house) peace.

Throughout the following 8 years, the children and Amanada and her husband, Omer, lived contently in the charming little house. Although somewhat bothersome at times, Amanada always opened the basement door when she heard the footsteps and the soft tap-tap. The ghost always complied when she said “stop” at the tinkling of the tea cups (sometimes even awakening her in the middle of the night). One day (exactly 8 years to the day she had moved in), while tidying up the kitchen, she heard the familiar footsteps come up the basement stairs and the familiar soft tap-tap on the basement door. On cue, she rose, walked nonchalantly over to the basement door and opened it - as was her usual role in this strange game. She immediately stood taller, aware of something different - the distinct aroma of pipe tobacco. The air before her swirled, like someone passing by her, causing a subtle breeze - a swish almost. Then a deep-throated but kindly voice said “Thank you!”