The Rat and Mouse Chronicles: Chapter Four: A Friendly Ghost

Chapter Four: A Friendly Ghost

The friends had planned their visit to the island at the far end of Long Lake for quite some time. Today was the day that it was actually happening! Rat and Mouse had prepared the picnic basket before they went to bed for the evening, and now it sat, full of tasty promise, in the bow of their small sailboat.

It was a perfect day for exploring, with a gentle breeze to propel the good ship “Water Witch” through the uncharted waters at the southern end of Long Lake. Mouse joined Rat in a verse or two of “The Bay of Mexico,” followed by “The Sloop John B.” The island grew steadily closer as the water gurgled happily under the small boat’s bow.

As they approached the island, Rat and Mouse could see the gables and chimneys of a large house lifting its timeworn shoulders above the surrounding trees. The ruins of an old wharf and boathouse presented the perfect spot for a landing, and the friends soon had their little craft securely moored.

An overgrown path through the trees led up a slight hill towards the abandoned house. Rat and Mouse lugged the lunch basket and oversized flask of cappuccino through the path’s leafy tunnel under the trees, many of which were hung with Spanish moss. Occasionally a bird would call in the distance, but the feeling was very quiet and solemn....almost like being in church. Rat found himself looking over his shoulder quite often, and Mouse’s whiskers twitched nervously as the path opened into a clearing that surrounded the old, and obviously deserted, house.

Some windows were broken, and had shutters hanging at crazy angles from rusted hinges. The three chimneys had gaps where bricks had fallen from them. The front door, across a rickety verandah, seemed solid in its frame, but hung open just a bit, as if daring the friends to enter.

“Let’s leave the basket and coffee on the verandah, Mouse,” said Rat. “I’m not going to feel comfortable having lunch until we have explored this place thoroughly. I feel like I am in the middle of some evil witch’s nightmare!”

Mouse agreed, and soon the pair had pushed their way through the front door and were standing in the middle of a fully-furnished living room that had collected surprising little dust over the years. A stairway curved upwards to the second floor hall, and at the back of the living room, beside an open door that lead to what seemed to be the kitchen, was a wonderful large stone fireplace.

“Hey, Rat,” said Mouse, “if we get a fire going, it will make me feel a lot more comfortable with this spooky place, and will give us a cozy place to have lunch.”

The two soon had enough fallen branches and broken pieces of verandah collected to start a roaring (and comforting!) fire, and were enjoying sandwiches and cappuccino. Their comfort, however, was soon disturbed by a strange moaning sound coming from the second floor.

“A g-g-ghost!” said Mouse, as he sprang to his feet, spilling his coffee.

“Let’s go,” said Rat, running toward the stairs.

Mouse soon followed closely as the pair rushed up the stairs and into the dark hall at the top. The moaning seemed to be coming from an opened door at the end of the hall. As Rat ran into the room, he came to an abrupt halt, and Mouse ran into his back. Sitting in front of them, with its back against a wall, was a pale, and obviously very sad, figure. This ghostly figure slowly raised its head and looked sadly at the two.

“Aren’t you going to run away?” it asked mournfully. “Anyone who comes here always does.”

“Why should we run away?” said Mouse, “we’ve only just got here, and there is still some cappuccino left from our lunch, so why don’t you join us and tell us why you are so sad.”

Soon the three were settled, cappuccinos in hand, in front of the fire, and the pale figure told her story.

She had no idea who she was, she told them, or why she was a ghost, but she knew in her heart that she could not leave the island until someone befriended her and invited her home with them. Many people had visited the island over the long years, but upon seeing her, they would return to their boats in a great hurry, and never return.

“That’s why I was crying just now,” she said. “I just knew that as soon as you saw me, you’d run off too.”

“Well we didn’t.” said Mouse. “It’s not like you are a scary ghost, rattling chains and doing all that frightening stuff.”

“Oh, I can do that too,” said the ghostly figure, “but I don’t really like to. I’d much rather be friends with someone than scare them.”

“A friendly ghost!” cried Mouse. “What a wonderful idea!”

“What a wonderful name,” exclaimed Rat. “That is what we shall call you from now on. Friendly Ghost, or just Friendly for short.”

Friendly lifted her head and smiled for the very first time in many years.

“I like it,” she said. “Friendly Ghost has a good friendly ring to it.”

Rat asked Friendly to excuse them for a minute as they had something they had to discuss in private. He and Mouse went outside and walked slowly through the field while they talked about what they should do about their new-found friend.

It did not take them long to decide, and soon they were back inside explaining their decision to Friendly.

“Friendly,” said Mouse, “if you would like to, Rat and I would be glad to have you come and live with us. We have just moved into a wonderful new home--a cave under a waterfall--and we’ve more than enough room for all of us.”

At this good news, Friendly started sobbing again, but soon the three were sailing back up Long Lake. Their new friend seemed much less pale now that she was away from her island, and she delighted in showing them ghostly tricks she could do. A quick change into a howling sheet-covered figure; a shift into a pale dragon breathing flickering blue fire; a sudden transformation into a grey wolf-like creature that slavered over shining sharp teeth; her ghostly skills were as fascinating to Rat and Mouse as they were frightening.

As the little boat rounded the headland into the river, Mouse pointed out where their cottages used to be before the flood. Ahead, just around the next bend in the river, they could hear the noise of the waterfall. Soon they were moored at the tiny jetty just down from the falls, and escorting their new friend toward the high bank beside the falls. Into the bank had been set the two circular windows that made the dwelling look as if it belonged to Bilbo Baggins rather than Rat and Mouse.

“Friendly,” said Mouse, “welcome home!”