Legendary Theatre Ghost

Who doesn’t love a spooky tale at this time of year, especially if it’s true? So allow me to introduce you to the ghost of the venerable old Academy Theatre in my hometown.

She is thought to be a former caretaker, who, along with her husband, lived in an apartment on the third floor. In the early 1900s she died in a fall down the stairs, but according to theatre staff, she resides there still.

“Mary” is a friendly but mischievous spirit, who moves or hides objects like keys and wallets, and then returns them, sometimes days or weeks later, to the exact location where people knew they had left them. She methodically lowers seats after the cleaning staff have raised them, and turns lights on or off, including the stage lights. Harried employees have, on occasion, appealed to Mary to tone down her antics, and she complies. She has, however, also scared the daylights out of men working in the control booth up on the third floor, where she once lived. Who wouldn’t be terrified when a heavy steel door that requires a really strong arm to manoeuvre it just slides open or slams shut of its own accord?  An electrician once reported that he glimpsed a woman out of the corner of his eye, on the staircase to the upper floor, but when he turned to look at her there was no one there. Others recount that they have seen an apparition in the glassed-in control booth from the stage, or felt a hair-raising presence when in there. Even a former theatre manager admitted that he didn’t go up there alone at night, after the audience had gone, despite several decades of happily working alongside Mary. They say that if you want to feel her presence, you should sit in seat #13 in any of the rows when the theatre is silent and empty.

I never did, although I was on the Board of Directors for a few years. It’s a beautiful Victorian building, but when it’s not filled with crowds, it is definitely eerie, and not the sort of place I would care to spend any time alone. Employees, however, soon become accustomed to Mary, and speak fondly of her, even when she sometimes frustrates them with her pranks.

It’s the possibilities of spirits heralding an afterlife that surely intrigues us. That’s why I like to include that in my novels. For instance, I have a character in my “Muskoka” series who is either mad or psychic - or both. She sees dead people. You can meet her in The Summer Before The Storm and Elusive Dawn.

And one day I will finish the spine-tingling supernatural novel that I began some years ago.

Happy Halloween!

Ghostly Autumn

There is something about late autumn that cries out for the telling of ghost stories. Is it because we’re surrounded by summer’s decay as flowers shrivel and desiccated leaves are chased by biting breezes? Is it the withering daylight and deep, dark nights? Is it the skeletal trees that reach bony fingers toward the lowering sky or claw on windowpanes? (The spectral Catherine Earnshaw of Wuthering Heights comes to mind.) Is it the superstition that spirits wander the earth on Halloween night when the veil between the living and dead becomes gossamer thin? Whatever it is that conjures up some atavistic fears at this season, it’s spine-tingling fun.

One of our favourite family stories that perfectly evokes this autumnal eeriness is called The Ghost-Eye Tree by Bill Martin Jr. We had a "ghost-eye tree" in a riverside park close to our previous home, and always felt the story’s thrill as we passed it. Interesting how that became part of our family lexicon.

For adult books, I prefer creepy rather than gory (which I refuse to read or watch), and find that the most chilling tales are the subtle ones. Stephen King can make a hedge or a fire hose seem like the most malevolent danger, as he did in The Shining. (I remember that from 30+ years ago!) But I think that the scariest book I ever read was The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. It’s haunted me for way too many years. What a great writer she was!

To celebrate this spooky season, ghosts and skeletons have already invaded our house, and a grimacing jack-o-lantern is soon to join them. On Halloween night we’ll don our witches’ hats and demons’ cloaks so that we can’t be singled out from the real ones that may be about - and to scare the little goblins who dare to come to our door for treats. Candles will flicker… medieval chants will echo… Imaginations will delight…. Bwahahaaaaaaa.