Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side (12 page)

She left shortly after, leaving us to settle in. My sister,

Vlasta and brother-in-law, Michael were planning to join us

some time in the evening.

What had been the schoolmaster’s quarters were now the

two guest bedrooms, so the seven of us had to squeeze in as

best we could. We decided we would move one of the mat-

tresses into the classroom area, so that Eloise would have the schoolroom to herself.

It was as I was making up Eloise’s bed that I came across

the first presence. I felt a sudden brush against my right arm, after which an intense warmth proceeded to travel down

towards my elbow. I looked to my right and saw a flash, and

immediately went to grab my camera.

“Hello!” I said. “Would you like to show yourself in my

photo?”

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With one quick snap, he was there; a fist-sized orb posi-

tioned just in front of the fire.

Given that spirit lights usually flash from the centre of

the spirit’s chest, I deduced that the spirit who had come to

greet me was a child. Judging by the positioning of the orb, it appeared that the spirit was no more than four and a half feet tall. Since Eloise would be sleeping alone in the schoolroom,

I kept the experience to myself, lest she felt uneasy about her invisible room mate. I had no doubt that the presence was

friendly, so I had no qualms about keeping this little secret private.

The first night was uneventful and we all woke up

refreshed after a peaceful night’s sleep. We decided to go for a drive after breakfast; our destination being a historic local inn.

Despite being a ten-roomed, gracious two storey building, it

was on the market for a suspiciously low price. I couldn’t help thinking that this was because it was haunted.

The Greenbark Inn was a solitary monolith on a deserted

stretch of country road. It had obviously been breathtaking in its Victorian heyday.

Now it was looking tired and run-down, with a network of

cracks running along most of its walls. Its wallpaper and carpets were no doubt original; its hallways perfused with a mustiness that only comes with age. Not surprisingly, there was the familiar atmospheric denseness that I associate with ghosts.

As we wandered along its hallways, I had the feeling that

we were being watched.

Convening at the bar a short time later, the waitress was

quick to confirm our suspicions that the hotel was haunted.

“We had a film crew here not long ago,” she said. “Some

ghost show from a cable TV network.”

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I asked if they’d managed to capture anything significant,

to which she replied that they certainly had. She also spoke

of some of her personal encounters with the resident ghosts, including being locked out of rooms and having doors slam in

her face.

The waitress went on to tell us about some recent house

guests who inexplicably checked out of their room at two in

the morning. The couple later recounted how they would

never stay at the hotel again, as they repeatedly heard some-

one bustling in their bedroom. And worse, they felt an unseen

presence sit down at the end of their bed. The weight of the entity was so palpable that the bedsprings squeaked as the

ghost settled at their feet.

In spite of deliberately hunting down haunted locations for

the purposes of paranormal research, even I felt uneasy at the Greenbark and was eager to get away. There was an oppressive

air about the place, and the ghosts within its walls didn’t feel hospitable.

I was aghast when Stu suggested we came back to spend

the night some time. He thought that a night at the inn would

provide great material for another chapter. For once I was putting my sense of well-being and safety before a potential ghost story, there was no way I wanted to be anywhere near the

place as darkness fell. I instantly dismissed the suggestion (at least for the time-being …)

We headed back to the schoolhouse for lunch and what we

hoped would be a lazy afternoon. We were soon to discover

that we needn’t have driven the twenty mile trip to Greenbark, as there was enough ghostly activity to keep us busy at home.

As soon as we sat in the classroom, my friend by the fire-

place began flashing his spirit light. I suggested that we get out The Boys 95

the pendulum, to see if we could ascertain who was trying to

get my attention.

The answers to our questions came thick and fast. The

ghost I’d encountered the day before was quick to make con-

tact, identifying himself as a thirteen year-old boy. He con-

firmed that he had been a student at the school in the 1940’s, until his death in 1947.

We discovered that he was not alone, as his ten year old

brother was also in tow. Together they remained within the

confines of the schoolhouse, thriving on the frequent influx of house guests. They were happy to remain in the environment

they had happily inhabited in life, and felt no desire to leave.

Thinking of my friend, Paula, whose gift is helping spirits

to cross over, I asked if they would like me to introduce them to a lady who would help them go into the light. I suggested

that perhaps their parents were already there waiting for them.

But the youngsters were adamant, assuring us that they were

happy and felt no need move on.

Although they had no idea where there parents were, they

didn’t seem particularly perturbed. Time had become inconse-

quential, and the sixty odd years they had spent inhabiting the schoolhouse felt like just another day. They expected that they would meet up with their parents in due course, and didn’t

feel as though they needed to be hurried along.

Further questioning revealed that the boys were buried

locally, in the old cemetery a little over twelve miles away.

When I asked if they would like us to visit their graves, they answered with a strong and undeniable “YES!”

We agreed to head to the cemetery immediately, eager to

find some proof that the two boys had really existed. We also

wanted to honour them by visiting the site of their graves.

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“Are you coming too?” I asked them.

As soon as I asked the question, I was overwhelmed by

heat spreading over the middle of my back. It was intense yet

comforting, and felt as though a hot water bottle had been

placed halfway down my spine.

Since the air conditioner was directly behind me, my first

thought was that one of the children had changed the setting

from cold to hot. As the outside temperature was nudging

a hundred degrees, I sprung up to switch it back. It was hot

enough without having the heater on!

As I moved towards the air-conditioner, I was met with a

continuous stream of cold air.
So then where was the heat coming from?

Of course my know-all inner voice answered the question

straight away.

It’s the boys! They’re coming with you!

I asked Vlasta if she could feel the heat radiating off my

back. She placed her hand to where I indicated and confirmed

it right away. It seemed the boys were ready for the car trip.

“Right then,” I said. “Let’s go and find your graves!”

We bundled into the car and made the twenty minute trip,

full of expectation. The boys indicated that they were buried in the Anglican section, which narrowed down our search.

We scoured headstone after headstone, studying every

grave. We looked for the key dates they had given us; for graves which held two brothers. The longer we searched, the more dis-heartened we became. We just couldn’t find their graves.

The smattering of unmarked plots made our goal seem

even more improbable.
What if they were lying in one of the
unmarked graves? What if we’d passed by them without a glance,
oblivious to their final resting place?

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After an hour we conceded defeat and headed back to the

schoolhouse to work out what we should do next. We hoped

the boys were pleased that we had at least visited the grave-

yard and weren’t upset that we didn’t find their graves.

On the way back to the schoolhouse we decided to let the

boys prove themselves in another way. We would let them

move the table!

We set up the table as soon as we got back. We lit a white

candle and prayed for God’s protection, after which we invited the boys to draw in close to us. In no time at all the table

began rocking; the boys’ delight was palpable! The table shud-

dered and rocked, light taps came from within. There was no

doubt that our ghostly friends were in their element, relishing the attention they had been denied for sixty years.

When we asked the boys to try and blow out the candle,

it instantly leaned to one side.

After a raucous few minutes, their energy began to die

down. The table began to resume its stillness as it came to

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a gentle stop. We thanked the boys for joining us and asked

whether they had the energy to fulfil two final requests.

Firstly, I asked whether they would be able to blow out the

candle. Camera poised, I counted to three …

I saw a spirit light move to the left of the candle and on

three it leaned towards the right. Whilst not managing to

extinguish the candle, I still praised our friend for his obvious attempt at fulfilling my request.

To conclude I asked the boys if they would be good

enough to appear beside us in a photo. Not surprisingly, they

once again complied. My daughter Claire took the photograph

of Vlasta and I sitting at the table; the boys shining behind us as large, unmistakable orbs. The older of the two seemed to

be a more vivid, dominant energy, as the photos we took that

weekend invariably show a larger, more radiant orb with a less distinct energy close by.

Upon asking the boys to stand behind me for a photo,

they were happy to present themselves as orbs. In all the photos
we took during the visit, the older boy seemed to consistently
manifest more vividly than his younger brother
.

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For the rest of the weekend we felt as though we had two

extra housemates, as the boys’ energy remained obvious for

the duration of our stay. We continued chatting to them via

the pendulum, which led to many mirthful exchanges. At one

point they informed me that they didn’t particularly like my

music and thought that we drank too much wine! By the time

we were set to leave, I felt as though I was saying goodbye to two dear friends.

My family were already waiting in the car when I ran back

into the school house for a final goodbye.

“Thanks for everything darlings, I’ve really loved meeting

you! Can you make a noise for me to say goodbye?”

A noise came from the ceiling immediately after I’d asked
.

Crack!

“Again?”

Crack!

“I know you don’t want to cross over, but can I at least

bring my friend, Paula to come and talk to you?”

I waited for a sign.

“If you’d like me to come back with Paula, please make

another noise …”

CRACK!

I could barely contain my happiness as I promised that I’d

be back. And as a final request, I asked for one last photo.

“Please give me a last little sign,” I asked. “Just one more

photo before I go …”

I pointed the camera towards the fireplace where we first