The House

I never would have purchased the house if I’d known that it was haunted. Haunted yes, but not in the traditional way, with the ghost of a jilted lover or a murder victim lurking in the halls outside my bedroom. This house is haunted with old actors and actresses acting out their most famous roles.

The first day I woke up in my new home, I put my housecoat and slippers on and descended to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. You can imagine my surprise, when seated at the table were James Cagney and a blonde actress who’s name escapes me. They were playing out the scene in The Public Enemy where Cagney takes the grapefruit he is eating and promptly rubs her face with it. I stood in the doorway dumbfounded, but just couldn’t contain a chuckle. That scene always did make me laugh.

I headed to the sink and put on a pot of coffee. When I turned around Cagney and the blonde were gone, replaced with Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh acting out a scene from A Streetcar Named Desire. I sat down with my coffee, juice and toast and watched the two of them go at it. I suddenly felt an urge for popcorn. This was crazy, why were these people hanging out in my house?

I went back upstairs and showered, walking into my bedroom just as Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton started in on each other, in a scene from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf? If I had to have ghosts, couldn’t they at least be from MGM musicals instead of dramas.

I seemed to be able to determine the movie genre, because when I dressed for work and descended to the first floor, I was almost knocked over by Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor singing and dancing to “Good Morning” from Singing in the Rain. Well, this was an improvement over the drama. I picked up an umbrella, just in case, and headed out into the morning air.

It all started to make sense now. No wonder the previous owner had been in a hurry to sell the place. Probably wasn’t a movie buff. I passed away the hours at work, wondering what would greet me when I returned that evening. MGM musicals were a favourite but so were all those romantic movies. I tried to put it out of my mind and returned to the work at hand.

It was a long day and I was glad to see it end. I stopped at the local grocery store to pick up a few things and then wearily walked up the steps to the front door of my house. I turned the key in the lock and gingerly opened the door. No dancers in the hall, I guess they were out having dinner or maybe rehearsing their lines. I hung up my trench coat and placed the umbrella back in the stand. I turned in the direction of the hall to the kitchen and almost walked into Errol Flynn. My, he was a good looking man! He walked right through me into the arms of Olivia De Havilland. Ah, yes, it must be Robin Hood and Maid Marian. I continued to the kitchen and started preparing myself some dinner. I was jolted back to reality by the sound of moaning. I turned to find Sir Laurence Olivier with his head bent down crying. He looked inconsolable and I stopped for a moment stumped. Then Merle Oberon walked into the room in a fancy ball gown and I knew where we were. It was Catherine and Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. I sat down, mixing spoon in hand to watch their performance and almost burned my dinner. This was getting out of control!

For weeks this went on, every night another performance, every night a surprise or two before I could get to sleep. How long would this go on for? Would we eventually run out of movie titles? Would I ever get a peaceful night’s sleep without worrying about who I might find in my bathroom in the morning?

Today had been a terrible day. Work was crazy and then to top it off I locked my keys in the car just as it started to pour. By the time I got home, I was in no mood for movies, of any genre. Thankfully, I was able to make and eat my dinner in blissful silence. After washing the dishes, I decided that a quiet evening reading in bed was just what I needed to get past this day. I changed into my pyjamas and slipped into bed. No sign of actors or actresses of any stripe. Fine by me, I was feeling worn out by all the drama.

I awoke with a start to find Harpo Marx sitting on my bed, honking his incessant horn. Not the Marx Brothers! Sure enough Groucho, Chico and Zeppo were not far behind and soon my bed looked like a scene from A Night at the Opera when all of them crammed into an ocean liner stateroom and then started ordering room service. That was it, the last straw; I screamed out “Uncle” and pulled the bedcovers over my head.

That’s why tomorrow I’m setting it on fire.

Benina's Magic

Catherine Anne hobbled up the street with her head hanging down, so that her blonde hair almost touched her knees. She had just had the most miserable day of her eleven year life. If the sidewalk would just open up and swallow her, she’d consider that an improvement.

It was so terribly hot, had been for the whole summer. The magnolia trees looked parched and all the yards were the colour of wheat. Even the birds didn’t seem to want to sing anymore. If only it would rain, then maybe everyone would get back to normal. Maybe then, the kids at school would be in a better mood and would just ignore her like before. They had decided to make Catherine Anne’s torture their summer project. Every day when school let out, they’d be waiting for her and mocking the way she walked with a limp. They’d laugh and she would turn beet red. Try as she would, there was no way to get away from them any faster, given her hobbled leg.

She was thinking about what it would be like to be invisible. Now that would definitely be better than this, when she was suddenly startled by a voice.

“Where you be gettin there, Miss Catherine Anne? Is you OK? You look a might peaked from here. Why don’t you come up on the veranda and rest a spell?”

Catherine Anne turned and saw old Miss Benina Washington stand up from her rocking chair and lean on the railing of her veranda. She had never addressed Catherine Anne before; she didn’t even realize the woman knew her name.

“You git up here and sit a spell Miss Catherine Anne, I made some lemonade.”

Catherine Anne was just about to politely refuse the offer, but the vision of cool lemonade was too overpowering.

“Thank you kindly, Miss Washington, I believe I could come sit for a while”

Catherine Anne slowly hobbled up to the stairs and gingerly climbed them. Then she walked over to a rocking chair next to the old woman and sat down. The exertion of just climbing those stairs had produced enough sweat that it now was streaming down her face and sliding down her neck. She could smell the strong scent of magnolia and it almost made her feel faint.

“Drink this Miss Catherine Anne and you’ll feel much better. It’s Benina’s magic lemonade. It has pixie dust in it and lots of secret powers.”

Catherine Anne laughed and snorted some of the lemonade out through her nose. She hadn’t laughed in a long time.

“What kind of powers does the lemonade have?” she asked while wiping her face.

She saw Benina lean back in her rocking chair and wipe the sweat from her brow with her apron.

“Well, I believe it can cure the miseries, if you happen to be suffering from them. Also been known to grow hair back on a bald man, so they say. You have anything particular that needs curing, Miss Catherine Anne?

“Well my leg needs curing. I can’t walk without a limp. Don’t suppose the lemonade can cure that?”

“Seems to me that what’s ailing you is not your leg, but what other folks think of your leg. Why do you care what other folks think of your leg?

“The kids at school make fun of the way I walk”, Catherine Anne hung her head down thinking of the endless humiliation.

“You lift up that head of yours missy, ain’t nobody got the power to give you the miseries if you don’t let them. I think what you need is a magic walking stick. You sit here a spell, while I go find it.”

Benina opened the creaky old screen door and disappeared into the house. Catherine Anne sat back enjoying the lemonade, hoping that the secret powers in it would make her invisible. She had almost fallen asleep when Benina returned.

“Took a while but I finally found it. I think this will do you just fine.”

Catherine Anne took the cane from Benina and turned it over in her hands. It was beautiful. It was made of lacquered wood that had been painted with pink flowers and green leaves. Benina took the cane back and showed Catherine Anne how to walk with it to balance her hobbled leg. Catherine Anne got up and tried to walk and suddenly felt like an elegant lady.

“That’s it Miss Catherine Anne, you’ve got the power now. Ain’t no one can take the power from you long as you have that magic stick.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Washington”, she leaned over and hugged the old woman.

Catherine Anne finished her lemonade and then said goodbye. She walked up the street towards her house with her head up and feeling absolutely elegant.

From that day on, Catherine Anne would stop each day on her way home to show Benina how her walking was improving. They would talk about everything, and laugh and sometimes even cry, if one of them had the miseries.

She was young then and couldn’t possibly know it, but she would need Benina’s magic to help her get through the dark days ahead.