This is a story I wrote in high school (circa 1967) for English class. This may be the one I wrote the evening before it was due. The original paper has gone to dust so this is a rewrite of many years ago. I would have rewritten it, anyway, because my high school language skills were appalling (whatever you think of them now, they've gotten better). Some details have been added. Some original details have been discarded.  

Enter Mr. Tan

By

John A. Eyon

Tony and Bill were a fresh-faced ghost-hunting team with plenty of college swagger. Tony: dark, athletic, bursting with nervous energy, and the engine of the team. Bill: fair, slim, studious, the team's rudder. For all their swagger, though, underneath it seems that they were just a couple of young adults who never outgrew their childhood superstitions and fears. In an effort to surmount those phobias, they confronted them by seeking-out and harassing the considerable New England ghost population.

After exorcising an old farmhouse of a poltergeist (actually, a hyperactive cat), they had adjourned to the local pub to celebrate their success and chat with the locals about haunted houses when the bartender mentioned a visitor that day who complained that his newly acquired house was haunted. He was in town on business and could be found at the hotel, if he hadn't already left. The bartender recalled his name: Stephen Tan.

Tony leaped off the stool and fairly dragged his partner out and down the street to the hotel. They found their quarry packing, and receptive. They quickly arranged for an investigation on the following weekend. The distinguished, perhaps-middle-aged Mr. Stephen A. Tan provided instructions on finding his secluded home and seemed delighted at finding skilled help to challenge his "domestic nuisance".

Friday was hectic. After classes, they loaded their equipment into their station wagon and headed north, deeper into the country. Bill drove first, then surrendered the wheel to Tony at dusk. Settling his head back, Bill slipped into a reverie while watching the rising moon thru the large gaps between the trees. Before long, the moon was reduced to a flicker as the forest thickened. He glanced over at Tony, cussing under his breath as he concentrated on what little could be seen in the headlights of the dirt road, heavily overgrown with grass.

Suddenly, they broke into a clearing. The car's headlight splashed against the lower part of a dark, looming structure. Blackly sinister trees closely encircled the area, while the moon, full and pure white, peered over the treetops, reaching out moonbeams to touch the branches and the windows here and there.

They halted before an entrance lit by a dim, yellow bulb. The gravel pathway crunched loudly in the deathly silence beneath Tony's feet as he walked to the door carrying one of their several boxes. Before reaching it, he saw thru the curtain on the door's window a dark shape approach and reach for the inner door handle.

"Ah!" exclaimed Tan as he threw open the door, "Do come in."

Tony motioned towards the car where Bill was unloading the trunk, and Tan eagerly assisted them in carrying the equipment into the house where they piled it, for the time being, in the hallway.

"I'm preparing dinner," Tan said in his cultured tones, "You gentlemen must be famished. We'll eat now, then I'll show you to your room, and you can begin your...ah...studies. You must explain your methods to me."

It was a find repast. Seafood and wine. On china. Their host sustained a smooth conversation, extracting their life histories and ghost-hunting experiences. Then he asked about their equipment.

"It's very simple," explained Bill, "The equipment are just sensory devices, highly sensitive to sounds, temperature, pressure-that sort of thing. We'll set them out at likely spots and one of us will always be awake to monitor them thru the night. When we detect something..."

"We'll barrel in and tackle the ghost!" interrupted Tony, "Say. Why don't you tell us about this house first, Mr. Tan, huh? It's hauntings. You know."

Tan leaned back in his chair, lighting a pipe. "It's a rather dull history, I'm afraid to say. This house was constructed almost two hundred years ago by a wealthy family. They also held a considerable area of land around here, which is why the surrounding area is still undeveloped. It passed thru three generations of that family, then two other owners before I acquired it less than a year ago.

"Strangely enuf, until I arrived, there had been no reports of hauntings. I've talked with people who live around these woods and they had not heard any ghost stories. I found a bound, family history of the original owners shelved in the library here. I've consulted that, and there is no mention of ghostly manifestations in it. Nor have there been any violent or otherwise tragic deaths associated with this house -- which is common with other haunted houses, I understand.

"Nevertheless, since I've move in, I've had experiences that are definitely in the realm of the supernatural. I've heard sounds emanating from thin air that sounded vaguely like whispering. I've heard creaking that progressed down the hallway like someone walking. And I'm convinced I've seen dark or pale shapes at a distance down hallways. And only a few weeks ago, I came back to my bedroom after breakfast and I saw a dark, cowled figure standing beside my bed, facing me. It shimmered. I could see thru it. Then, I blinked and it was gone."

Tan paused, staring at his dinner plate. Then he continued. "That's about it. I don't know what you'll find. Real ghosts. Or loose foundations. Or, maybe that I've gone mad. Whichever, I hope you young men uncover the cause."

The boys exchanged looks. Tony's was eager. Bill's, quietly satisfied.

Tan led them thru the house, down dimly lit hallways, into musty, unused rooms. Tan pointed out the spots where the events that he experienced took place. The boys took notes and quickly discussed their plans.

Finally, shortly before 11 o'clock, they were led to the room they would share. It was clean and high-ceilinged and sumptuous, with a single, large, canopied bed. Also, there were two chests at one wall.

"I call those coffins," Tan remarked as he pointed them out, "They look like that, don't you think? And if you look inside, you'll see that they're lined with silk. They're empty now, waiting for clothes...or bodies, perhaps? Well, now, I leave you to your work. You know where my room is. If you need me, don't hesitate to knock. Good night."

While Bill began unpacking equipment, Tony closed the door after the departing Tan. But with practiced skill, managed to make it only sound like it was closed. For no explicable reason, Tony silently opened it a crack and peered thru at the receding figure. He observed Mr. S. A. Tan pause before his bedroom, look both ways, then pass thru the closed door into his room.

THE END

When the teacher read this story to the class, at the point Tony knocked on Mr. Tan's door at their arrival, someone knocked on the class door-to great effect!

I can't help thinking that Tony and Bill were inspired by the Hardy Boys (one dark-haired, one blonde, remember?).

Copyright 2003 by John A. Eyon