Yule Stave Burning:
A New Ghost Story for Advent and Christmastide
by S.W. Chilstrom
Under the glass a voice like a resounding gong read aloud:
"Ioannes VIII: 'Abraham pater vester exsultavit ut videret diem meum: vidit, et gavisus est.'
Ioannes V: 'Angelus autem Domini descendebat secundum tempus in piscinam, et movebatur aqua.'
Ionannes I: 'in ipso vita erat et vita erat lux hominum et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt.'"
Part I: The First Mystery
++++++
Gaudete Sunday
A living room fireplace was lit by an invisible hand, ushering in warmth and the tart smell of burning pine on a cold winter night.
From the fireplace's flames forty white candles coiled around a fir tree in the center of the living room were kindled.
The invisible hand plucked one of the tree's candles from its boughs, lighting a circle of tapers within a candlestick compassed wreath.
First a purple one was lit, then another purple, and a third rose colored, leaving the fourth one yet unkindled.
The candlelight swelled, waking the eyes of a young blonde girl curled up on a leather
sofa. She looked to to the fireplace before her, entranced by the radiant glow and the singing voice that called to her. She crept closer to the fireplace and gazed inside, watching the flames crackle against the wood. The fire suddenly and sharply rose, the girl shielding her face from the intensity of the heat.
The flames lowered.
There appeared a living room much the same as the place the girl had been sleeping in.
If anything were amiss, it would be the girl's absence in the midst of the dozens of lights. Otherwise the place was an impeccable replica.
The fir tree still stood, tinsel dangling like silver icicles from its boughs over red and gold globular baubles, topped with a gold winged and crowned angel, its dress sewn with a pattern of a galaxy of snowflakes. And still ticked the grandfather clock with
its pendulum swinging above a wooden miniature nativity scene sans christ-child.
Still present were the flames of the purple and rose colored candles
nestled in their advent-wreath, flickering and waving like the dancing of charmed snakes.
A little old woman with sky blue eyes turned from the candles and a book lain out on the table, its open paged titled in the German language with the heading: Gaudetesonntag.
A string of rosary beads between her fingers against her flour smattered apron, she looked at the tree.
As if under hypnosis, she drew nearer. The tree quivered.
She came closer.
Then, taking one more step forward, the tree stopped shaking; still for a moment.
In the kitchen adjacent to the living room sat a man with a thick brown moustache reading a newspaper titled "Black Bear Lake Evening Post." As the grandfather clock tolled ten, he reflexively yawned.
He turned a page of the newspaper; glanced at the weather section.
Heavy snow was predicted in the next couple of days. If so, it would be a white Christmas and the first snowfall of Winter that year.
The man closed the paper looking to the entrance of the kitchen.
There stood the old lady under the mistletoe topped doorway, trembling.
She pointed back to the den and in German, she said, "Otto. Jemand steht im Wohnzimmer. Hinter dem Christbaum: Otto. There's someone in the living room. Behind the tree."
Otto rose from the kitchen table, his small blue eyes widening. He took a knife off the kitchen counter and entered the living room.
He scanned the room first stepping cautiously to the tree.
"If anyone is here, show yourself!" he called out.
The tree was still, other than its forty candles' flickering.
He circumambulated the tree, looked around the room again and sighed.
"Mama...I don't see anyone."
He faced the kitchen, his mother still crouching under the doorway, not daring to exit.
On the opposite end of the hall, as if peering into a pitch black tunnel, Otto glimpsed a transparent figure, a bearded visage smiling and then gone as he blinked.
Otto moved slowly towards the hall. The knife was still clenched in his hand, his boots light on the creaking floor boards, he pulled the rose colored candle from the advent wreath and moved to the black hall.
"If you're in here, leave now," said Otto his voice booming through the house.
He entered the hall, the candlelight barely penetrating the thick darkness. His fingers fumbled for the light-switch to the hall under the staircase.
As he felt for the switch to no avail, the stairs creaked and moaned.
Otto glanced up to the stairs.
Above his head were descending feet, if they were feet or rather described as hooves clopping down the steps.
His mother yelped from the kitchen.
Otto felt all bravery fail him, dropping both knife and candle.
The figure, its face darker than night, stepped to the bottom of the stairs.
Otto faced the figure, immobile. As he gazed into the thing's abyssal mass, a lady with long black hair in a white night gown picked up the candle and stretched it out to Otto.
"Stay under the mantel of the lights. But pass further into sundry darkling unlit chambers of this house and certainly he shall devour you," she said.
"Anneliese!" said Otto gasping.
The black figure struck him across the chest, sending him sliding across the floor.
Struggling for a breath, Otto reached to his belt, to a holster tucked under his plaid shirt. Charging the staircase, he fired a pistol at the thing on the stairs. He shouted curses as he shot, hoping to betray his sense of fear before the terror unflinching at the bullets.
The long reach of the hoofed thing's hand pulled Otto up by the head, tossing him against the wall.
A cut opened on Otto's scalp, whence flowing red liquid covered his face like melting crimson wax. As Otto turned away he glanced back to the kitchen doorway wiping the blood from his eyes.
Agatha had fallen faint to the floor.
Otto took a step forward before too collapsing under candlelight. The black haired woman's pale hand grasped the rose candle, pulling Otto along the floor and into the den.
Back into its candlestick wreath she placed the candle, then dragging Otto and his mother under the tree.
"Stay under the mantel of the lights, Otto...Mama," she said in a whisper before fading away.
++++++
Monday
The sky was gray and evening was imminent, headlights gradually flickering on, beaming onto cabins tucked under lofty boughs there along the edge of a fir and pine forest. The pine woods lined cars cruising up and down that old mountain road passing a town's wooden welcome sign:
"Have a fine time at Black Bear Lake!"
A little white pickup truck turned to the right of the welcome sign and a minute later pulled up next to a chain link fence and gate. Parking under a proud blue fir, its driver, a young and pretty flaxen haired woman in a green sweater, hopped out and opened the gate.
Walking down a little flagstone pathway, she rubbed her clammy hands, her breath visible in the cold.
At the end of the path stood a little half-timber home, its chimney discharging a steady chug of smoke.
The woman stepped up to the front door knocking thrice; the door opened almost abruptly after.
A little white haired lady greeted her with a warm smile.
"Oh, Helga! You made it!" said the lady in German.
"Finally, Oma," replied the girl in English. "Traffic was a nightmare."
"Well, come in, come in, your uncle is in the back chopping firewood and...we have much to tell you."
Indoors, the warmth of the fireplace and the little Christmas tree all its forty candles lit, the advent wreath beside it too gleaming brought Helga back to her childhood, to Christmases spent with Oma and Opa and Mom and Dad.
Things had changed in the world, but maybe they hadn't changed as much as she thought.
Reckoned by the calendar in the kitched turned to December Anno Domini 1995 She had been away from the mountain home for nearly eight winters. She enjoyed her time at college in walking distance of the Pacific Ocean, but her formative years so to speak were all spent up in the thin mountain air.
She was glad to be back at Grandma's house in any case and, her Oma reminding her to cross herself with Holy Water at the front door font, she continued inside.
The backdoor creaked open.
"Uncle Otto," she said smiling.
"Hi Helga...," said Otto, carrying an axe.
His eye was blackened and a large bandage was placed just above his forehead.
"What happened?"asked Helga.
Otto waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing too terrible."
Agatha sat on her rocking chair beside the fire. Quietly she said,"I've made your room, down the hall...Next to your mother's."
Otto lifted Helga's suitcase escorting her down the hall, aglow with candelabras.
"I like the decorating this year," said Helga.
Otto nodded his head and, after helping her suitcase down, said,"Sheriff Brunswick just left..."
"The Sheriff was here?"
"Yeah. Last night...Oma fell. Fainted."
"Is she alright?"
"Yes, yes...Thing is I also took a pretty hard bump. Thing is, someone was in the house. Uptairs."
Helga could only muster a "You're kidding..."
"Sheriff couldn't find any evidence of a break-in though. No traces except my own blood and bullets; like I was attacked by a shadow.We tried to get hold of you on the phone," continued Otto. "Thought you might want to stay down the mountain for the holidays. I told Oma to spend the night in a hotel until we figure out what to do about the break-in but she won't budge. She just won't go anywhere where these candles aren't lit." Otto looked to a candelabra hanging along the stairs.
"What can we do?"
"Stick together, keep watch throughout the night. I think Oma called Father Lillis as well to expunge any lingering devilry."
"I know somebody who may be able to help us," said Helga."Mind if I use the telephone?"
"No problem, Helga. There's one in your room."
Helga went inside in her room; dialed and picked up the receiver by her bedside.
A moment later a voice on the other end answered.
Helga smiled and said, "Hey!...yeah, I'm in town. Can you do me a big favor...Chance for you to come visit sooner...I know you're busy at the Lodge...
Yeah, it's really pretty important...Siegfried...meet us at my Grandma's in like an hour? Oh, and can Crockett come with? Ok, see ya soon...love ya."
Helga hung up the phone and walked out into the hall, back into the living room for milk and cookies.
"What do you say we get a movie from the Rental Store?" said Otto after finishing his last bite of gingerbread.
"Sure...I think I'm in need of a good Christmas flick," said Helga.
"Can you pick me up the 'Joyful Mysteries', with Bing Crosby?" asked Agatha.
"Sure, Oma," said Helga smiling.
Otto and his niece headed out the house, loading up into Otto's blue pickup, the car's radio tuned to a rendition of 'Silver Bells.' They drove out onto the little road along the pines, passing all the cabins and little storefronts Helga was able to point out from her childhood.
Taking a slight detour, Otto drove them down the streets of the town's little downtown market square.
"The Super Bear Arcade! We used to play skee-ball there, me and Siegfried."
"That so?"
"Yeah. We always dreamt about winning the top prizes. 1000 tickets for a treasure chest, 500 for a mock wedding ring...The treasure chest was the one though that motivated us to keep playing. Lots of urban legends about what was inside it. A blinking eyeball; a love potion..."
"I think I know what's inside the chest," said Otto.
"What?"
"Probably plays a song, like a music box."
Otto turned up the radio now playing 'Greensleeves.'
A few minutes later they parked in front of the little video rental shop 'Northern Lights Camera Action'.
Inside the store, multicolored lights were strung along the shelves and shelves of video tape covers.
Browsing for a few minutes, Otto picked out 'Joyful Mysteries' and 'Dashing Through the Snow' a comedy starring Phil Hartman and Chris Farley.
"What'd you pick, Helga?"
Helga flashed a tape titled 'Dante's Inferno.'
"That one might scare Grandma, a bit," said Otto.
"Me and Siegfried are big horror movie fans."
"Ah, Siegfried, your friend from the arcade?"
"Yeah, well, also my boyfriend for about six years now."
"I see. Will we be seeing him?"
"I asked him to come over if you don't mind..."
Otto twirled his moustache and said, "Sure he can visit. Can sleep on the couch too."
"Thanks Uncle Otto. He can help you keep watch at night too...Oh, speak of the devil."
A blonde boy in a red leather jacket with black sleeves entered the store.
"Saw you guys parking from across the street," said Siegfried.
"Son," said Otto shaking the boy's firm grip.
"Mr. Creutzburg, pleasure to meet you...Crockett's outside," said Siegfried.
"Who?" said Otto.
"My dog," said Siegfried.
After paying for the tapes, they were greeted by a docile animal, more of a wolf in appearance than dog, all black with somber amber eyes.
"Crockett," said Otto, "Seems like a nice pooch."
"His brother Davey was a menace though," said Helga shaking her head.
"He can hop in the back," said Otto.
The three and Crockett piled into the truck, arriving back at home for Oma to have a piping hot supper of mashed potatoes and roasted chicken ready.
"Siegfried, so nice to see you," said Agatha.
"Same, Mrs. Creutzburg."
"Please, call me...Oma," said Agatha in her East Prussian accent.
"Oma, have you met Crockett?" said Siegfried pointing out the window.
The quiet dog stood on the porch his tongue madly salivating at the tantalizing smell of the supper.
"Oh, poor thing. I think maybe Helga told you...we would like a little protection this night. I won't lie to you, there was a terrible man inside
the house last night. An unwanted visitor."
"How did he get out? We can make sure to guard all the doors," said Siegfried.
"We're not sure how he got inside," said Otto.
"Oh, well, no...No I don't mind spending the night. I manage the Black Bear Lodge when my folks are travelling, but I can take some time off if need be."
"You are a sweet boy, Siegfried. Anneliese is very lucky to have you," said Agatha.
"Anneliese?" said Siegfried.
"You mean Helga, Mama, Helga," said Otto.
"Oh, what did I say?...Anneliese? Yes...poor Anneliese...she loved Christmas with the family."
Helga's face began to lose color.
"Why don't we get a movie going?" said Otto changing the subject.
"Oh, did you find 'Joyful Mysteries' with Bing Crosby?" said Agatha a bit giddy.
"Of course, Mama," said Otto. "I'm sure the Northern Lights always reserves a spare copy for you around advent."
After dinner, they huddled around the living room television: Crockett was curled up on the floor, Agatha in her rocking chair, Otto in his recliner; Siegfried's arm around Helga the two on the couch under a blanket.
Father Bing Crosby was on the screen singing 'Adeste Fideles' as the apparition of the ghostly lady in blue appeared to him and kneeling children all crossing themselves.
As 'The End' appeared on the screen, Crockett hopped on all fours towards the stairs, barking madly.
"Crockett! Crockett, what is it?" said Siegfried fruitlessly trying to calm down the pup as it continued to bark.
"What is he barking at?" asked Helga looking to the stairs.
"There's nothing there," said Helga, "Nothing, right?"
Otto shook his head. "Mama, did you see anything?"
Agatha shuddered under her breath. "That man...that horrible man."
Father Crosby's voice crescendoed: "Ve-ni-te A-do-re-mu-us Do-o-mi-nus."
The front door flung open.
Crockett darted out the door racing into the night.
"Crockett!" said his master yelling after.
Helga and Siegfried turned from the door as it slammed shut.
Her chair was rocking, but Agatha was gone.
"Where's Oma?" said Helga frantically. "Uncle Otto? Where did Oma go??"
+++++
Tuesday
The Sheriff arrived that morning to take another report.
"You sure you have absolutely no idea where she would have gone off too?" said Sheriff Brunswick penciling a note.
"No, Sheriff..." said Otto.
"I'll open a missing persons case for her...best you stay here the day just in case something turns up. I figure you all just dozed off and she wandered off to the neighbor's house."
Sheriff Brunswick tipping his hat stepped out.
"Helga...why don't you and Siegfried go out...get some food, relax a bit, watch a movie...I need to stay here just in case someone calls about Oma."
"We can stay here, Uncle Otto, it's alright."
"No...I insist. Go."
Helga and Siegfried left a few minutes after and took off down the road in Helga's truck.
They arrived at the Black Bear Cafe just in time for a noonday meal, sitting at a squeaky teal booth. The diner was decked out in blue and green Christmas lights. Facing their booth was a wood carved bear wearing a fuzzy Santa cap.
A waitress approached them.
"Oh...Hey Siggy," said the waitress. She was a beautiful raven haired woman, green eyed with a matching black shirt and pants and a forest green apron.
Siegfried politely smiled. "Hi, Annie."
Helga twitched a little bit.
"It's been, what, since graduation?" said Annie biting the end of a ball point pen.
"About that," said Siegfried.
"Oh, I mean I've seen you around, at the Lodge, but Helga?...how's college?"
"How's the diner?"
"It's a nice gig for tips if that's what you mean...of course you guys aren't obliged..."
"Of course," said Helga coolly.
"So what will it be? You try the Black Bear Burger? We have a Christmas combo that comes with a malt and fries."
"That does sound good, Annie. I think I'll go with the Black Bear Steak though. And I can have that bear medium rare right?"
"Oh, well, I think bear generally needs to be cooked just a tad bit longer, but I can have the chef make an exception. T'drink?"
"Get me that malt, thanks."
"And fries?"
"And fries."
"Sweet, and for you, Helga?"
"Oh, I'm alright. I'll steal off Siggy's plate here. Get me a diet coke though. Less ice."
"One diet coke, less ice. Anything else for you guys?"
"We're fine, thanks," replied Helga.
"Cool. Be right back with that order."
Siegfried waited for Helga's annoyed response to Annie before she said,"Really hope Oma's ok..."
"Me too,Helga...Sure, she just got scared, ran out the house to a neighbour's house like the Sheriff said...at least it's not snowing."
"I'm afraid, Siegfried...really scared...what's going on in that house?"
"I'll be with you tonight, don't worry..."
+++++
After lunch they went back to the Creutzburg cabin picking up burgers to-go from the Black Bear Cafe for dinner.
"Appreciate it, guys..." said Otto sullenly as Siegfried set the white greasy bags of dinner on the dining table.
They didn't speak much that evening. Otto sat next to the living room telephone eagerly snatching it the split second it would ring.
They put on the Chris Farley and Phil Hartman tape, watching the movie in the pursed lip studious way one observes paintings in a gallery.
Helga held her oma's rosary beads, thumbing slowly, speaking a hushed near-inaudible mantra while a red-faced Chris Farley vindictively smashed a gingerbread house with a hammer.
Siegfried tried to listen in to what his lady said, catching a few words he knew from his childhood catechesis.
Looking up from Helga's rosary he saw a familiar sight. Crockett was standing outside the window.
"Veni," said a soft voice behind him. A gentle hand grasped his right arm.
Siegfried was lulled into a trance, a quasi-sleep falling upon him till the black dog shook its coat and darted off.
He was within brilliant moonlit fir woods, against a cold wind, black feet in front of him, behind him and a tail.
Siegfried was riding atop Crockett who now looked as large as a black bear.
The bear-dog halted before a little hut, lit by a single lantern in its front window.
Crockett slowed to a mild trot and made his way to the front door.
Sat below the lantern was a pretty elderly woman in a red dress, perhaps seventy, her hair covered in a white scarf. She beckoned him closer to the window.
"There, we know what you are looking for. Our daughter is out there now. The lights are all around us tonight."
A tall, gaunt old man in green appeared beside the lady, a sickle in his hand.
"You will need this blade soon enough," said the man pointing to the tool,"but now, we're waiting for sunrise. Oh! Do you see the sun faintly glimmering beyond the veil of our
world?"
The man and woman pointed to the rolling hills of forest, undulating into the night.
A mile in the distance out of the sky fell a figure, translucent, its ethereal shape like a body made of snowflakes.
"Go," said the lady. "Our daughter will assist you."
Crockett flew back into his chase into the woods, striding across a mile of pine needle laden dirt in a minute's span, cones crunching under paw, Siegfried blind to the dark of the forest.
He could see nothing till the faint glimmer of the figure floating down from the sky subtly illuminated the wood.
Then he saw a girl, draped in a green cape, her thick blonde hair covered by a lapis lazuli pigmented head scarf .
The girl turned to the Siegfried smiled, and said 'Veni."
Her eyes then were cast to the sky up to the smiling yellow lunette moon.
"Now then! I've been waiting," spoke an elderly voice behind Siegfried and the bear-dog.
It was Agatha.
In her hands was her rosary.
"Angelus Nuntiavit Mariae, et concepit de Spiritu Sancto," said Agatha.
At Agatha's last 'Spiritu Sancto' the treetops twisted skyward, the whole of earth and heaven seeming to merge.
Brief moments before on the forest floor they all were now among the stars.
Towering before them like a great mountain was a golden creature, conical, wearing thousands upon thousands of rings that clashed like cymbals as it heaved in apparent inhalation.
The golden mountain's face, including its terrible eyes, were covered in a metallic veil that fluttered in the wind like a thin cloth.
Upon the capital peak of its mountainous frame the snowflake-bodied figure rested like a ghostly crown.
"Ave Maria, Gratia Plena, Dominus Tecum," spoke the mountain in a gentle, polite manner, not befitting of a creature of such mountainous proportions.
Its ghostly crown floated off to the girl, hovering over her.
The lady spoke, her voice mild, nearly a whisper:
"Ecce Ancilla Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum."
Falling prostrate, the girl seemed to be suspended by an invisible pedestal.
"Et verbum Caro Factum est, et habitavit in nobis," said Agatha, her rosary still held tight to her breast.
A light as bright as a sunbeam emanated from the lady's heart, bathing the golden creature in the same light.
"Ora Pro Nobis Sancta Dei Genitrix, ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi," spoke Agatha.
Agatha, Crockett and Siegfried were ground level, the magnificent world of star and moonlight fading like the memory of a dream upon waking.
An orange sun was rising behind them.
Walking out of the woods about an hour later they knocked on the front door of the Creutzburg house.
The door opened.
"Oma!" said Helga with tears in her eyes.
She then wrapped her arms around Siegfried.
"I thought I lost you too..."
(To be continued on Dec. 14)