Samhain

 Because next week is the day many call Halloween, but a time with a much older origin, Samhain, I thought it a good time to show how such times can be used in books. This snippet comes from the Oregon historical, Love Waits. It is not a big part of the plot but rather about the family and from where they came, how they saw things. 

Jed, who tells this story is from a Scottish heritage family, who first settled in Georgia, after Culloden, which was a big thing in Scottish history and why many decided to immigrate elsewhere. Although the tale is supposed to be from Georgia, the history of ghost tales goes back to his Scottish ancestors. It's just one example of how such traditions are carried on and then can be used by a writer. As you read such a brief sample, you won't know who these characters are but maybe can tell from what they say. 

The point of view is from the hero of this fourth in the Oregon series even though the traditions come from Jed (hero of the third) and the one telling the story to the family. The following image is from Stencil and not in the book (although there is a cat referred to) but this picture fits Halloween. *s*

 

“I heard these stories as a small one,” the tall southerner drawled as he rose and began to lower the lamps until the room was barely lit. The moon outside was rising but it was a crescent that provided little light.

“The stories I was told come from the swamps and cypress forests of Georgia and the home of Two-Toed Tom.” He moved around the room as he described a home where many generations had lived and where a ghost was determined to keep for himself.

“Do any of you know what a ghost looks like?” he asked with a smile as he scanned over the children.

“Ugly?” Rufus suggested.

“Like you maybe,” Eli added with a grin as he gave his nephew a light punch on his arm. Rufus responded with a giggle.

“For those who have seen ghosts… or claimed they did,” Jed said, “they don’t agree. And most folks don’t see them at all. They just see what they do when they break something or make noises intended to scare people.”

His story took the side of the ghost. He created sympathy of the poor ghost who only wanted to keep his home from intruders. Rand saw it took the fear from it but not the excitement as the children listened with rapt attention. With the ghost’s great disappointment in failing to scare anyone, the sorrow all fell upon the poor trapped ghost failing in his assigned task.

“And then one brave little girl confronted the ghost and made him show himself.”

“Oh yeah, like it would be a girl,” Rufus protested with a low growl.

“Did the ghost hurt her?” Laura asked, ignoring her brother’s insult as she cuddled her little sister to her. Jessica had from the beginning sought comfort on Belle’s lap.

“No, he was glad she saw him. He felt less lonely when she asked him what he needed. She told him they would not be scared; so he should do all that he needed to be happy. ‘I just want someone to hear my story,’ the ghost cried.

“’Let it be me,’ she said as she then sat and listened as he told her of his life, how he had come to be where he was. After she heard it all, he smiled and vanished, never to be seen again.”

“He should have killed someone,” Rufus suggested. “What kind of ghost is that?”

“Killing isn’t good,” Jeremy disagreed. His face grew somber. “I wonder if my mother is a ghost.”

“This is the time when the other side is very close to us,” said Jed. “It is a time to ask for stories, ours or those from the other side.”

“Now?” The little boy’s expression grew worried.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Raine asked as she nudged Jed’s shoulder.

“Of course, because we are all here to be together and make it not scary. What is your mother’s name, Jeremy?”

Rand had little belief in another side and wondered if Jed did. The boy looked uneasy as he considered the request. “My father never told me. And I was pretty little when she left.”

“What did she look like?” Belle asked tenderly brushing the hair back from Jessica’s forehead.

“Like my sister. She had red hair. It was curly and pretty. She was beautiful.”

Rand wondered if he could get more information on the missing mother when he got back to the fort. More likely, it would take his next trip to The Dalles and the telegraph to get to those who might have such records for the Foresters.

“Where did you live, Jer?” Rand asked remembering the preferred nickname.

“Virginia and then California.”

“Well, let’s see if any ghosts want to talk to us,” Jed said as he took a seat at the dark end of the room.

“Being scared does not seem a good idea before bed,” Raine again reminded him.

“It’s not scary to talk to the other side,” Jed corrected her. “They are like my story not scary. They just want us to listen.”

“You sound like you believe in ghosts,” Adam said with a skeptical tone.

“Of course. I am a southerner,” Jed said with a smile. “Now let’s just listen and when we listen, whatever we hear, we will tell each other. Deal?”

Rand had no real belief in anything, certainly not that his mother might try to reach out to him from across a mysterious divide. Still he didn’t try to ruin Jed’s celebration of Samhain. He glanced again at Belle as she comforted the little girl. She would make a loving mother. That thought gave him no pleasure. If she was pregnant, it was clear she would shut him away from their baby.

It was his own damned fault for making love to her before he had the right. If he could have, he’d have kicked himself. He ruined it for them both. Twice maybe. How would their life have been if they had married when she had wanted when she was so young?

He had been right back then though. He knew it. If she was rejecting him now, likely she would have eventually left him. What could the military offer a woman like her that she could not find better with another? He would work to be a friend to her, to support her as best he could for as long as he lived. He would do likewise for any child if one happened to be on its way.

When no one reported any sightings of ghosts, Jed brought out his guitar. “Some of these were African folk songs that I grew up hearing.”

Jed’s voice was on pitch, deep and soulful. He brought intensity and a deep meaning to each song. He concluded with one that Rand had heard during the war—Aura Lee. A song of a man in love with a golden haired woman. It might have been Belle.

Finally, Jed stopped and said, “When we sleep tonight, remember your dreams. In the morning be sure we all share them.” With that, the children were taken off to bed by Belle and Amy. Raine, responding to the wail from their baby, left to feed him and then go to their own bedchamber. “I should also head for bed, Martha said. “Heaven likely is feeling very deserted. “She pulled on Adam’s arm to head for their cabin.