Haunted Houses, стр. 15
“Pardon me, ma’am. I’m Vince . . .” Then his heart began to pound and his lips refused to form the words he was about to say. As he stood there in the middle of the schoolroom, ready to coax his subject into sitting over at the desk, she reached the picture of Washington. For the first time she appeared to acknowledge Vince’s presence, and she turned to wave at him slowly and deliberately. The eyes in the face never really seemed to react to him as a person, although they appeared to stare directly at his face. It was a hot August day in Montgomery, but as Vincent looked back at her, he was chilled to the bone. Then, to his great astonishment, she simply floated right through the wall beneath George Washington’s portrait, as effortlessly as if she were passing through an open door.
“Ma’am, ma’am . . . ,” he tried to call out, to summon her back. But words failed him, and, beginning to tremble all over, he sat down in the front row of desks. He stared at the area under the portrait. Then he arose and, walking over to the portrait, ran his fingers over the wall beneath it as he searched for some sign of a door or secret panel that would press inward. He couldn’t accept the fact that the girl had simply disappeared. It was almost dark outside when he finally decided to leave. A little dizzy, his knees still weak, Vince walked over to the desk where she had been sitting. On it was an abacus that looked as if it were being used for arithmetic. The blue book that she had been holding was a McGuffey Reader, written in the mid-1800s for children.
Later Vince asked Mrs. Neely if Eliza was ever seen in other places besides the front of the tavern.
“Her spirit, you mean? Oh, my goodness, yes. She’s a lively one, if you’ll pardon the pun. She’s been seen in many different buildings here at the restoration, most often the schoolhouse. I doubt if she was ever able to get much formal education in her time, coming from a humble background. But if there was ever anyone who would have wanted to better herself, it was Eliza Lucas. She was ambitious and a hard worker.
“We all feel Eliza’s presence, and even while I talk about her now, I think she is trying to tell me how I should present her story,” said Ms. Neeley. “The question is, why does Eliza’s spirit continue to visit the tavern? My idea is that Eliza, having lived and operated the tavern for more than twenty years, found her most fulfilling moments in this building. It was here that she reared her family and was recognized far and wide as a hostess. We are very fond of Eliza, and I believe she is of us.
“I’ll bet she’s around here somewhere right now. Wouldn’t it be something if you could get a picture of her! Why, Mr. Ives, you look white as a sheet. Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Mr. Ives, what is that book at your feet?”
Vince stooped down, and, as he looked at the book, his heart began beating madly. It was the McGuffey Reader. He read the child’s name on the flyleaf, the same name he had seen earlier on the reader in the schoolhouse! How did it get here? It was almost as if Eliza were giving him her “calling card.”
“A book on the floor, eh? That’s our Eliza, at it again. Did you get some good pictures?”
“I hope so.”
“Do come back and see us, Mr. Ives. We want to welcome you just the way Eliza would have done if she were here.”
As soon as Vince returned to his car, he unloaded the film he had shot in the schoolroom and marked the top of the can “Eliza.” He sent the roll off to Kodak when he returned home, not trusting it to a local processor. When he picked it up and put the slides on his lightbox, the pictures of the buildings were fine, as were those of the exterior of the schoolhouse. But all the frames that he had shot inside were blank, except for showing a streak of bright, golden light over at the left or the middle or the right, never in the same place, but “depending on where ‘Eliza’ was standing as I moved around framing my picture,” he said to himself wonderingly as he looked at his slides.
All Vince needed to do now was to find a photography book with instructions for the proper exposure to capture both the man-made backdrop of a schoolroom and a good sharp image of a ghost.
Lucas Tavern was relocated and restored in 1980 to Old Alabama Town, a collection of restored nineteenth- and twentieth-century structures reflecting the lives of people who settled and developed central Alabama. The Town is open for self-guided tours from 9 am to 4 pm, Monday through Friday. Visit www.landmarksfoundation.com or call (334) 240-4500.
THE PIRATE’S HOUSE
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA
The Pirate’s House in Savannah was once a home for seafaring men such as Flint and Blackbeard. It is now a world-famous pirate-themed Savannah restaurant.
“You have to take some risk to find adventure,” said Marion.
“I don’t want adventure, only a decent meal,” said her husband. Jack Moore could just taste a good seafood dinner. They had strolled along the Savannah waterfront most of the afternoon, intrigued by the variety of shops housed in the brick buildings that had once been cotton warehouses. At about five-thirty they had begun talking about where to have dinner.
“Let’s ask one of the natives,” suggested Marion.
Jack groaned. “Do you