Follow the Trail

Up into the Caravan we go, traveler! We have no choice but to follow!
 
Let us gently open the door and see what may be inside our humble vardo that is of interest to our otherworldly friend.
 
Oh! It is heading toward the back shelves. I know we have a spirit board back there. Perhaps that is what we are to grab. It would make communication much easier between us and a headless spirit, wouldn’t it?
 
Yes, it is pulling you toward the shelf with the board…no wait! It is pulling to the bottom shelf?!
 
How…interesting…
 
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There is a story deep in the hollers of Appalachia that tells us of a bold young traveler who needed a place to rest for the night. Upon finding a farm, he inquired if he could stay…just for the evening, as he would be heading out the next morning. The farmer did not have any lodgings available but offered him some food. Unsatisfied with sleeping without proper shelter, the traveler inquired about a house across the creek. The farmer explained that the house was hainted and no one had dared stay there for any length of time in many years. Unfazed, the young man asked for some food and headed over to the long-abandoned house. He would not be frightened by any haints. He was too proud for that.
 
Throughout the evening, as he was cooking his food over the fire, he was approached by a couple of apparitions. A black cat jumped down the chimney, followed by a dog. He shooed both of them away. Satisfied with his meal, he headed up to one of the bedrooms, only to later return to the fire downstairs after tangling with an unseen spirit over the bedsheets.
 
After going back downstairs, he was soon aware of another apparition. This time, the spirits were preceded by sounds. At first awful noises echoed down the staircase from the upper floor, then it slowly turned into a pleasing fiddle tune. It was not long before a girl and a fiddler descended the staircase at the bequest of the traveler. He listened to their music and watched her dance for a while before dismissing them. They went back upstairs.
 
The final haint for the evening descended shortly thereafter. It was a coffin with a hammer upon it. Unwilling to be frightened by such a sight, he approached the coffin, grabbed the hammer, and opened it. A headless corpse was inside. The traveler, harkening back to stories from his youth, asked the corpse, in the name of God, what it was doing in the house.
 
The ghost spoke to the traveler and explained that he was the owner of the property who had been killed by robbers ten years prior. He wanted the traveler to summon his sons there and let them know that the robbers did not find what they sought. His treasure was still in the house, under the hearthstone.
 
The spirit’s final wish was to have his sons return home and find his fortune. He wanted them to split it evenly between themselves and the traveler who was the first to actually stay in the house the entire night. After this came to fruition, the owner’s spirit was at rest. The house had no more ghostly activity.

Just as we saw with the ghost of Zona Shue, a spirit can find rest when its business is finished.
 
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I must say, I am surprised that the willow appears to be leading us to this old hand carved box. It is beautiful, isn’t it? Dark wood…walnut, I believe. It is locked. It has remained unopened since it came into my possession.
 
This box was given to me by a traveling salesman I met alongside a road many years ago. In fact, I purchased a handful of items from him that day…a very interesting fellow, indeed. But this box he insisted I take with me. To be honest, I admired it from the moment I saw it, but I hadn’t even inquired about it as it seemed almost too precious to take. I was drawn to it.
 
…I think, now, that he could sense that.
 
Yes, he handed it to me with two keys. He told me that it would be best for me to hold onto it for a while and not give in to any sort of curiosity about what may be inside. He said that I would know when the box would want to be opened. Maybe we should look at it a little closer. Let me get it off the shelf…
 
SNAP!
 
The willow bent so hard that it broke! This must be the time to look inside! Now to find the keys…
 
The keys…
 
I only have one left now. It is here around my neck…the other one, as you may remember, is buried at the crossroads.
 
Well, let me see if this one works…
 
It is sticking a little, but…there we go!
 
What a beautiful pocket watch! It is like new! There is an inscription on the inside.
 
To my dearest Joseph,
May you never miss another one of our dates again.
All my love,
Elizabeth
 
This must have belonged to our headless ghost! His beloved Elizabeth surely would have wanted Joseph buried with such a treasure. I wonder why he was separated from something so sentimental. Well, that is of no concern now. The watch has found its way back to its owner. Let us take it to him!
 
 
 
 
 
Until next time,
Heather
 
 
 


Further Reading:
Roberts, L. W. (1980). Old Greasybeard: Tales from the Cumberland Gap. Pikeville, KY: Pikeville College Press.