Six-year-old Benny Alden stood outside his house in Greenfield, watching the moon rise. An owl hooted. Oak and maple trees rustled in the wind, and a few raindrops sprinkled Benny on the nose.
Benny shivered. In the moonlight, his front yard looked so spooky, he was almost sure he could see a ghost. And Benny definitely believed in ghosts.
It was early November, just a few days after Halloween. The leaves on the trees were yellow and brown, and many of the branches were almost bare. In the mornings, frost lay on the ground. The perfect season for ghosts, Benny thought.
“Benny, dinner’s ready!” called a familiar voice. It was Benny’s ten-year-old sister, Violet.
“Coming!” Benny called back. He took one more look at the moon before he raced inside.
“I’m starving,” Benny announced to his family, who were already beginning to seat themselves at the long dining room table.
“You’re always hungry, Benny,” Henry reminded him with a smile. Henry was Benny’s fourteen-year-old brother, and he could never resist teasing Benny a little.
Tonight Mrs. McGregor, the Aldens’ housekeeper, had made one of Benny’s favorite meals: spaghetti and meatballs, and her special homemade brownies for dessert.
Benny quickly slid into his seat next to his sister Jessie.
“How many meatballs, Benny?” asked Jessie as she put spaghetti on Benny’s plate.
“Oh, maybe four,” Benny answered.
“We can always count on you to have a good appetite, Benny,” Grandfather remarked.
“I’ll say,” Henry agreed.
Jessie laughed but gave Benny all the meatballs he wanted. At age twelve, Jessie was the oldest girl in her family, and she often acted like a mother to her orphaned brothers and sister.
After their parents died Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny had lived in an abandoned boxcar in the woods because they thought they had nowhere else to go. They did not know that their grandfather was looking everywhere for them. When he finally found his missing grandchildren, he was overjoyed. And he lost no time inviting them to live with him — an offer the Aldens were happy to accept. Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny were especially pleased that Grandfather let them bring the old boxcar to his house, too. It was now in Grandfather’s backyard, and the children often used it as a playhouse on rainy days.
Outside, the wind shook the trees, and a branch banged against the house.
Violet shuddered. “It’s awfully windy tonight. Is there a storm coming?”
As if in answer, the lights in the house flickered but did not go out.
“The papers did say there would be a storm,” Grandfather told his family as he stirred his tea.
“The kind with lots of thunder and lightning?” Benny asked hopefully.
“Nothing that dramatic, I’m afraid,” Grandfather said.
“That’s good.” Violet sounded relieved. She looked around the dining room. The chandelier cast a soft glow on the walls and over the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. The smell of homemade tomato sauce mingled with that of the brownies baking in the oven.
As Mrs. McGregor cleared away the dinner plates, Grandfather leaned back in his chair. “I have some news,” he told his grandchildren.
“What?” asked Benny, holding his cup in midair.
“Well...” Grandfather began slowly. “My friend Seymour Curtis called today. He’d like us to come visit him on his farm sometime this month.”
“Is he the one who’s always sending us fruit from his orchard?” asked Henry.
“He’s the one,” Grandfather answered, nodding.
“In fact,” Mrs. McGregor added, “we just received a crate of apples from him this afternoon. I’ll probably make apple pies with some of them tomorrow.”
“Mmm,” said Violet and Benny, almost in unison.
“Are there animals on this farm?” Benny wanted to know. “Or do they just grow fruit up there?”
“Oh, there are animals, Benny,” his grandfather assured him. “The main business is the orchard, of course, but Seymour also keeps a few horses, cows, and a goat.”
Benny beamed.
“And you know what else is on the farm?” Grandfather asked, looking at Benny.
“What?” Henry asked, just as eager to know.
“Well,” Grandfather continued, “the orchard is supposedly haunted. At least that’s what the townspeople think!”
Benny’s eyes widened. “You mean there’s a ghost?”
“Sort of,” Grandfather said. “Everyone thinks the ghost of one of Seymour’s ancestors haunts the farm — an ancestor who mysteriously vanished in the apple orchard one day and was never seen again.”
“Oh, that’s creepy!” Jessie exclaimed. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Oh, in the 1850s,” answered Grandfather as the lights flickered overhead and the wind whipped the rain against the window-panes. “In fact, he disappeared on a windy, rainy day like this. It was on the day after Halloween, I believe.”
“And no one knows what happened to him?” Jessie couldn’t believe it.
Grandfather shook his head. “No, no one ever found out.”
“Who was this ancestor?” Henry wanted to know. “And why did he just disappear like that? Was he running away from something? Or was it some kind of Halloween joke?”
“It wasn’t much of a joke if no one ever saw him again,” Violet remarked.
Grandfather leaned back in his chair. “Well, it’s a long story,” he began. “It all started in the middle of the last century when the farmhouse was first built.”
Benny sat up straighter. He did not want to miss a word.
“The man who built the farm was an ancestor named Gideon Curtis, and he was rather eccentric.”
“Ec-what?” asked Benny.
“Eccentric,” Grandfather repeated. “He did some unusual things. For instance, he collected suits of armor and old swords, which he kept in a secret passageway he built in his farmhouse.”
“Wow,” said Benny. He was so interested in his grandfather’s story, he was not even eating the brownie in front of him.
“This collection was very valuable,” Grandfather continued. “So valuable that other people in Gideon’s family wanted a share of it. One day, a relative from Virginia, a man named Joshua Curtis, came to visit Gideon. Joshua insisted that Gideon give him some swords from his collection, swords Joshua said belonged to his side of the family.”
“Did they?” Jessie wondered aloud.
Grandfather shook his head. “Gideon didn’t think so. He told Joshua he had no rightful claim to the swords. Joshua became very angry. He threatened Gideon and his family. Then he stormed out of the house, without any of his things, not even his coat. He walked into the orchard, and no one ever saw him again. It was as if he vanished.”
“But people went out looking for him, didn’t they?” Henry asked. He had barely touched his brownie, either.
“Oh, yes,” Grandfather said as he poured cream into his tea. “Gideon and several men formed a search party. They looked for hours and hours. But no one ever found a trace of the man.”
“Didn’t he leave footprints?” Benny wanted to know.
“I’m sure he did,” said Grandfather. “But none that ever led to his whereabouts. The townspeople believe that Joshua’s ghost still haunts the orchard. And whenever Seymour has a poor harvest or other trouble on the farm, people blame the ghost. They say it’s Joshua’s revenge.”
Benny’s eyes grew very round. “You know, ghosts don’t leave footprints,” he informed his family. “Maybe that’s why no one could find any sign of Joshua in the orchard.”
“At that point he wasn’t a ghost yet, Benny!” Jessie said, laughing.
“Did the ghost — I mean did Joshua — have a family in Virginia?” Violet asked.
“No, he never married and never had any children,” Grandfather answered.
“How was Joshua related to Gideon?” Henry wondered as he poured more tea into his mug.
“They were cousins.”
“How strange that Joshua just disappeared like that,” Violet said. “I wonder what could have happened to him.”
“It is an odd story,” Grandfather agreed.
“Has anyone seen this ghost?” Henry wanted to know. “I mean, what makes people think the farm is haunted?”
Grandfather swallowed before he answered. “Some of the farmhands have heard strange noises in the orchard — leaves rustling even when there’s no wind, the sound of twigs breaking in the underbrush, noises like that. Of course, it could just be some animal that people are hearing,” Grandfather said.
Everyone nodded, except Benny. “I bet it’s really a ghost,” he insisted.
“We’ll see,” Grandfather said, chuckling.
“So when are we visiting?” Jessie wanted to know.
“We’ll leave the day after tomorrow,” Grandfather answered.
“Mmm,” said Benny, taking a bite of his brownie.
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