January Story Contest

The Ghost of Chesterfield

By Spellcheck & Midnight

Age 11

  

   I awoke immediately to the sound of a rooster crowing right outside of my window.

   I groaned and sat up; time to go feed the animals.

   I got dressed and went down the hall and into the kitchen where Ma was cooking breakfast and Pa was sitting at the table, already half-done with his large stack of pancakes.

   “Good morning, Ella ,” Ma greeted me. They called me Ella because they decided that I was too old to be called “Elley” anymore; both were short for Eleanor .

   I nodded and asked, “What’s for breakfast?”

   “Eggs,” she answered, then sighed and added, “but your pa decided to ‘save’ the leftover pancakes from the icebox before they ‘went bad’.” She chuckled as Pa glared.

   I sat down at the table and put two eggs on my plate, and grabbed a fork. 

   I took a bite of the eggs. “So, which one of you put the rooster on my window this time?” For some reason they thought that it was a funny way to get me up when they thought I might sleep in.

   Pa raised his hand, unable to talk without spitting food everywhere.

   I finished my food quickly and followed Pa out the door.

   The outside of our house was fairly big, but not big enough for animals, or at least that’s how it looks from the front; in the back there’s a barn big enough for three horses, two cows, and maybe a few goats. But despite all that room, we only had one cow, no horses, three goats, five pigs, ten chickens, one rooster, and an old sheepdog.  We used to have two big horses for pulling the cart, but they died of disease two winters ago, and we hadn’t had the money to get more.

   By now we were in the barn. “Ella, go get the milking bucket and bring it to me; after that, you can go feed the pigs,” he ordered.

   I marched off to where we kept all the supplies. I searched through the shelves and boxes until I found the metal bucket. I brought it over to Pa and he instructed me to go feed the pigs.

   It had taken us about an hour to finish the chores, and after we were done with feeding all the animals and milking the cows and goats, we went back inside.

   As we walked in Ma was sitting in a chair by the fireplace and was knitting a pair of socks.

   She turned as we came in. “You’re going to have to go into town this week, William ,” she said to Pa.     

   He was confused. “Why?”

   “Because Ella and Nick have grown out if their winter clothes and we’re out of fabric.”

   She was right; my sweater that I was wearing barely fit me and it was the biggest one I had.

   He nodded. “When should I leave?”

   She thought for a moment. “Leave first thing tomorrow; Ella knows how to do all of the chores, so don’t worry about the animals.” She looked at me. “Right?”

   I nodded. “Don’t worry about anything.” 

   

   I awoke the next day to find that Pa had already left. He had to leave early in the morning to be able to come back by bedtime; the town was only about ten miles away.

I sat at the table eating breakfast. When I was finished, I went straight outside to feed the animals, knowing it was going to take a while. 

   Feeding and milking the animals proved to be harder and took a lot longer with Pa gone, but I managed. 

   I walked inside and saw that Ma was in the kitchen making lunch. I hadn’t realized I’d taken that long.

   “You sure took a while with the animals, Ella. I’m sure you’re hungry; I made bread for lunch.”

   “Yes, I am, when will it be ready?”

   “It’s almost done.” She pointed to a loaf of bread that was sitting on the stove, cooling off to eat.

   “Ma, can I go for a walk?” I asked, trying to sound bored.

   “That depends; where are you going to go?”

   “Not far, just a few miles at the most.”

   She debated. “Fine, but make sure to bring food and be home before supper.”

   I nodded. “Yes Ma.”

   She took a knife and cut two thick pieces of bread off the loaf and put them in a sack with a canteen full of water.

   “Thanks, Ma,” I told her as I grabbed the sack and ran out the door.

   “Be careful!” she called after me just before I shut the door.

   I walked straight until I reached the woods in front of the house.

   I went for walks in the woods often, so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting lost.

   I kept walking until I could see nothing but trees all around me. I looked up at the sky to see how dark it was; I would be able to keep going for a couple more miles. 

   I looked up at the sky and decided that I’d better get back home. I turned around and was head back when I heard the strangest sound: a horse neighing. It sounded far away, but I couldn’t be sure.

   I listened for a few more moments to see if I could hear it again. Nothing happened. Great, now I’m hallucinating, I thought. I’d always wanted a horse, ever since the draft horses had died; and even then I had wanted a pony because Pa would never let me get near them because they were so huge and temperamental.

   I was about to start walking again when I heard it again. This time it was closer.

   I turned around and headed in the direction that it was coming from.

   I kept walking and stopping every few minutes to listen for the neighing and follow it.

   I didn’t know how long I’d been walking when I heard it again. It sounded really close now. I kept walking and the woods opened up into fairly large clearing.

   The clearing was about a hundred feet in diameter, and was so white with snow that it was almost blinding.

   And that was when I saw the ghost. There was a story that a few years ago that a yearling had run away from one of the most known horse farms and now its ghost was haunting the town, and would attack anyone who dared to catch it. I’d never believed the stories, but how could I not now?

   She was the most beautiful horse that I’d ever seen. She was a whitish-gray with dark brown stockings that came up to her hocks on each leg. Her hindquarters were a medium brown, and her main and tail were white. She had black hooves and was no more than fifteen hands, and was easily the most beautiful of any horse there would ever be in the whole world.

   And it was coming right at me.

   I hadn’t realized until now that I was walking towards the ghost; a very bad idea.

   She began walking towards me, and I turned around and ran.

   I ran back to the cover of the trees. I should have thought to climb one, but I was too panicked to think, and besides, how much good would a tree do against a ghost?

   I was about to turn around when I tripped on a rock and fell backwards, falling against a tree. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, and then everything went black.

 

I awoke to something soft nudging against my head. I opened my eyes, expecting to see a ghost, but nothing was there.

   I sat up and looked around. Still nothing.

   I shook my head, unable to believe what I just saw.

   I looked up at the sky to see that it was starting to get dark. Oh no! I was going to be late for supper!

   I turned around and ran as fast as I could back home.

   When I got back, my lungs felt as if they were going to burst.

   I walked into the living room where Ma was sitting on a chair.

   “ Ella !” she shouted. “You were supposed to be home hours ago!”

   “Sorry, Ma,” I said through gasps.

   “You should be! Go right up to your room, and no supper for you!”

   I nodded and walked to my room slowly.

   I changed into my nightdress and crawled under the covers.

  

   I woke up bright and early the next day, and this time Ma and Pa didn’t even put the rooster on my window.

   I walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

   I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until Ma put some pancakes on my plate. I ate them quickly and went outside to help Pa with the chores.

   “ Ella ,” he said once we were outside. “Why don’t you milk the cow today?”

   “Really? You’ll let me?” When he went into town yesterday, Ma had milked the cow.

   He nodded. “I’ve shown you how at least half a dozen times, so I think you can manage it.”

   I nodded. I was excited, yet a little nervous; the cow was temperamental and wasn’t afraid to kick you if even the slightest mistake was made.

   I retrieved the bucket from the shelf and brought it over to the stall that the cow was in, and set a milking stool by her after putting a cow halter on her head and tying it to the wall.

   I managed to keep her from stepping in the bucket the at all, and for that, I was proud of myself.

   After all the chores were done, I walked back inside; Pa had stayed outside to chop logs for the fireplace.

   I walked up to Ma. “Ma, guess what? Pa let me milk the cow today!”

   She didn’t even look up. “Oh, that’s nice.” I couldn’t even tell if she’d been listening or not, but most likely not. I decided that she was busy and left her alone.

   I was about to go up to my room and find something to do there when a thought came to my mind.

   I ran back to the kitchen, looking for anything that a horse would eat. Finding nothing, I ran to the door and called over my shoulder to Ma, “I’ll be right back, Ma; I’m just going outside for a little while!” and ran out the door.

   I ran past Pa who was almost finished chopping the wood, and to the barn where we kept all the feed. I reached up on the top shelf where a small wooden bucket was; I dragged out a bag of oats and filled the bucket halfway. 

   I snuck out of the barn and into the woods. I looked behind me to make sure no one saw me, and walked back to where I’d seen the ghost horse.

   I put the bucket of oats on the ground and climbed up a tree.

   I waited for a few minutes; nothing.

   I waited for a few more minutes; still nothing.

   By now I had waited so long that I was starting to get drowsy, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

  

   I awoke with a start and nearly fell out of the tree. Great, I thought, and climbed down.

   I walked over to the bucket of oats to find it empty and there was hoof prints leading up to it and going back. “So you are real,” I said softly to the air. 

   I picked up the bucket and headed home, deciding that I hadn’t been asleep long enough for Ma and Pa to worry.

   When I got home, it was time for supper.

   “So how was your walk?” Ma asked.

   “Good,” I told her. “And this time I got back before supper.”

   She nodded. “Yes, you did, now sit down and eat.”

   I sat down and ate slowly; after I was done I went up to bed.

  

   The next morning I got more oats and brought them to the clearing, and set them down again.

   This time I decided that if I fell asleep again, then I’d better not be in a tree incase I fell out, so I sat in the place that the oats had been last time.

   I waited, and waited, and waited, until finally I fell asleep again.

  

   I awoke to something nudging my face. I looked up to see what it was, and saw two big black eyes staring into mine. I stifled a gasp and forced myself to relax.

   “Hello, Phantom,” I said in my softest and kindest voice.

   She snorted and nudged me again.

   I chuckled softly, and held the bucket of oats out to her. This time I had filled the bucket all the way so she could eat more; she was surely starving.

   I got up slowly, making sure that I didn’t spook her, and reached out to pet her. Surprisingly, she objected to neither of these.  

   I stood up and walked slowly in the other direction: towards home. 

   Phantom followed with no objections all the way back home.

   I walked her in the direction of the corral.

   By now the oats were almost gone, but I managed to get her in the corral.

   I shut the gate behind us and set the bucket down for her to finish the oats. I walked into the barn and got an armful of hay and brought it out to Phantom; by now she had finished the oats and was looking for more to eat. I hadn’t noticed until now that she was so thin that you could see her ribs easily.

   I sat on the fence and watched as she devoured the hay.

   I was about to get her some more hay when I heard Pa coming outside.

   “ Ella , get inside now; your mother and I were –” broke off once he saw Phantom. He gasped and sputtered. “Is that…”

   I nodded calmly. “Yes, it’s the ghost horse.” 

   He waited until he was calm to speak. “How…” he seemed unable to think of anything to say.

   “She followed me here,” I said, answering his unspoken question. “Can I keep her? Please?”

   He sighed. “Yes, you can keep her.”

   “Thank you!” I said happily, and walked her into the barn, putting her in the stall that I had been trying to fill for two years.

 

“And that, Rosie , is why we raise horses now. All of the horses we have here are descended from that very horse.” I was sitting on grandpa’s lap; I could have sworn I had been there for hours; he was telling me the story of great-great Grandma Ella’s horse, Phantom.

 

The end