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Kathy C Schultz

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Blue Eyes and the Ghost
by Kathy C Schultz   
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
Last edited: Saturday, December 31, 2011
Posted: Saturday, December 31, 2011

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A ghost gets a surprise visit from a blue-eyed stranger.

                              Blue Eyes and the Ghost

                             Author: Kathy Bunn-Schultz



                                       This Old House

The December wind ran cold, shaking the old dilapidated house to its rafters. The snow teased at the broken window pane as the old ragged curtain tried its best to keep out a flake or two, but to no avail for the snow was already piling up on the floor beneath the window sill.

She shouldn’t feel the cold, but she did. Something had apparently gone awry. Tiffany trembled as an eerie chill danced along her spine. She felt as if someone had stepped over her grave. More like someone stepped on it, she thought. Oh, well, what did it matter where they had put her biological carcass, her spirit was here, in her home, where it belonged.

                                  What Happened To Me

How long had it been since her passing? Heck, she didn’t know. It had taken her about a week to realize that she was no longer in the world of the living. No, she wasn’t dumb, just unsure of what had happened to her. The most frightening thing was her inability to communicate with anyone. No matter how loud she screamed, no one seemed to hear.

At age 22, she was in the prime of life and like many a young girl, she was hoping to marry her boyfriend, Dan, a mature man of 30 and very wise in the ways of the world. He had swept her off her feet with compliments and gifts. Doting on her every move, he had made her feel like a fairy princess. Yes, he was her prince, the daring and dashing Dan. Happiness prevailed, what more could a girl ask for?

“Honesty and respect,” murmured Tiffany aloud; speaking to no one but the cold dark night.


It had taken death to show her the truth of a man’s soul. In the first week of her passing, Dan had ransacked her home. He had not come alone; with him was Ann, her supposedly best friend. Her attempts to contact them were futile. What where they doing in her house? Why was Ann packing up all her beautiful clothes and jewelry?

“These will look so good on me, won’t they, darling?”

Dan said nothing but grabbed Ann into his arms and made mad passionate love to her right there on Tiffany’s bedroom floor. In horror Tiffany had watched the whole sordid affair. What a fool she had been to trust either one of them. What deceitful people they were. Temper flaring, Tiffany cursed and tried to kick them, as they lay on the floor, but her leg made no impact, it just went right through them. She cried as she watched them leave, taking away the best furniture and most of her personal items. In time, Tiffany’s anger abated and contentment made the long, lonely days more bearable.

                                      Feeling the Cold

“Brrr, I’m so cold. What I need is something warm to put on.”

Going to the downstairs closet, Tiffany found an old moth worn coat, nothing fancy, but it felt like a million dollars as she slipped into it.

Wait a minute, how is it that I can wear this coat?

Tiffany’s mind raced with mixed emotion and wonder. Was there something good or bad now going on? She never understood why she was alone. Most people of near death experiences talked about going into the light. Where was that bright light? She never saw one. After a while, she just gave up and supposed that she was in some kind of purgatory.

Tonight, however, things had changed and she wasn’t sure what to do, if anything. The most sensible thing to do would be to just wait it out and see what happens.

Heck, maybe someday, she might found out just how she died. As far as she could remember, she had gone to sleep and woke up dead. Death was a terrifying experience and the loneliness was unbearable, but, in time, the anxiety died down and she gradually accepted her isolation as one of those little things which she could do nothing about. So, what was the need to fret? She spent most of her days just wondering around the woods in back of house. Never had she taken the time to explore the beauty of nature, but now that she had all the time in the world, she frolicked around in the grass and wildflowers. She could go right up to the animals and pet them and they would never even know she was there. At night, she would sing, dance, and pretend that she was a movie star or an actress on stage. Of course, there was no audience, but in fantasy, the President and the Queen were there. Oh, there were moments of sadness and occasionally down right depression, but she always managed to bounce back.

                                         Looking For Clues

Tonight, however, she had a mystery to solve. Was she forming substance? What deep, dark secrets were afoot? She had to get to the bottom of it all. What would a good detective do? Look for clues, you ninny, what else?

If she had substance, then there must be some other things she could touch or move. Perhaps making a fire would be a good and sensible thing to do since she was so cold. Walking over to the fireplace, she found some old dead wood and a few matches. Because of age and dampness, there wasn’t much hope that the matches would strike or that the dead wood would catch the firelight. Careful old girl, don’t burn down your house. Tiffany grinned as the thought crossed her mind. She wasn’t worried, because she didn’t believe that the match or the wood would burn. However, to her surprise, the strike of the match brought forth a red-blue flame which took root in the smallest piece of wood and then its red licking fingers reached out and touched the other logs, which quickly sputtered and spattered with flame.

“Oh, thank you, God,” she prayerfully exclaimed. How wonderful it was to again feel the toasty warmth of fire on a cold winter day. She inhaled deeply as the mesquite wood begins to give off a pleasing aroma. Gathering her one and only moth ridden blanket, she made a pallet and nestled down by the fire and quickly fell asleep. One of the best she had had since death. Sleep did not come easy or at all in the spirit world.

                                      The Blue Eyed Visitor

She did not hear the crunching of the footsteps as they trod across the now frozen snow. It was not until a large fist began to pound on the door that she was startled into wakefulness. What was that? Did she hear a noise? For the next thirty seconds there was silence. Must be dreaming, she thought. Bam, Bam, Bam. No, there it was again, someone was at her door. How can this be? Who would come here? While she pondered these questions, the person at the door, growing impatient, begin to knock louder and longer.

“Okay, Okay, I’m coming,” she yelled.

Wonder if they can hear me, or what they will do when the door opens and they see no one there?

Tiffany was the one to be surprised. She opened the door to find a tall gentleman of undetermined age. A parka covered his head, and most of his face was hidden by a ski mask, but nothing could hide those sky blue eyes. The surprise came when he said, “Good evening, Miss, I hate to intrude so late in the evening, but I wonder if I could warm myself by your fire. It is so cold out here.”

“Oh, my God, he can see me.”

He took her hesitation as a no and started to walk away; his posture stooped a little in response to the cold wind and the ski bag strapped to his back.

“Wait, you are welcome to warm yourself by the fire, but I am afraid that I have nothing to offer you to eat.”

He muttered his thanks as she stood aside to let him enter the dark room. She watched as he walked to the fireplace to warm himself; his tall, 200 pound frame casting an eerie shadow upon the wall.

Don’t be afraid, girl, he can’t hurt you because you are already dead. Oh, yeah, her mind retorted, then how is it that he can see you? That was one question that she did not have an answer for.

“Don’t let me frighten you, Miss, I assure you that I mean you no harm. Looks like you have been having a hard time in life.”

“And death,” she said.

“What was that, Mam?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied.

Those piercing blue eyes stared at her questioningly; but he said nothing. He took off a large red backpack and laid it on the floor; then pushed back the hood to his parka and pulled off the ski mask. Wow, what a handsome man. Never had she seen anyone so overwhelmingly masculine. He oozed sex appeal. Taking off his coat, revealed a body of well developed muscles, which pressed against his clothing, just begging to escape.

More than a little flustered, Tiffany needed a reason to leave the room to get away from such a powerful and potent man. Pulling up a chair, she motioned for him to make himself comfortable. “We need more light. I’ll see if I can find some candles.”

A faint knowing smile teased at his lips as he watched her walk away.

To her surprise, she found a box of large white tapered candles in the kitchen cupboard, but all else was bare. She was about to go back into the parlor when her mind screamed, Wait a minute! Stop and think about what you are doing. You are crazy to let a stranger into your home. Yes, she would let him warm up for awhile and then he would have to leave. Go ahead, just march in there and tell him so.

                                  Peanut Butter and Coffee

Returning to the living room, she found that he had put on more firewood and had opened up his bag to reveal some peanut butter sandwiches and some coffee. Everything smelled so good.

“Help yourself.”

Tiffany shook her head. She doubted very much that she could eat anything.

“Don’t be shy, just dig right in.”

He poured coffee into one of the two tins and handed it to her. She took it, wondering: Do I dare? Can I really drink it? Oh well, here goes nothing. She moaned like a lover as the warm coffee crossed her palate.

She swallowed and away it went. By the third sip, she realized that she could drink and nothing leaked out. He grinned and handed her a sandwich. By the time the peanut butter went down, she was in love.

As Tiffany licked the last of the sweet creamy morsel from her lips, she made several loud smacking noises

“Oh, I beg your pardon. Please forgive my lack of manners, but everything was so delicious. Please believe me when I say I was brought up by my dear old granny, who was the queen of social graces.”

“That’s okay. I know it has been a while since you have eaten?”

Laughing, she said, “Quite a while.”

“Well, we will have to remedy that. By the way, I’m Dakota, and you are?”


“Well, Miss Tiffany, I know we have just met and I do not want to affront your Southern dignity, but could you tell me where I can find the John?”

The what? Oh, he means the bathroom.

Pointing toward the hallway, she said, “First door on the left.”

She hoped that there was some viable tissue for him to use. She had bought several rolls before her demise and should still be there unless it had degraded through the years. She giggled audibly, as she imagined how red faced he would be to find himself in such an embarrassing and foul smelling predicament.

Shame on you, came an admonishment from her conscious. She was being a bad girl and for that she mentally apologized. Despite the silliness of her thoughts, she enjoyed having this handsome man around. He and his peanut butter had won her heart. Once more an audible giggle escaped her dainty but saucy lips.

She heard a few rattling noises coming from the bathroom and she wondered what he was doing in there. Grinning, she thought, I hope everything works out all right.

Dakota was all smiles when he returned to the Parlor. “Well that takes care of that.”

Not sure what to say, she just murmured, Oh?”

“Yep, the commode is all fixed. The flusher chain had just slipped off, that’s all.”


“Don’t mention it. I’m a pretty good handy man.”

I bet you are flashed across her mind.

Taking it upon himself, he threw a couple more logs on the fire and poured up two more cups of Java. From another compartment in the back pack, he pulled out a small box of chocolates. Smiling, he said, “Try one.” She did, but that wasn’t enough. She helped herself until she had eaten most of the candy. However, out of guilt, she did leave the last raspberry crème for him.

                                          Christmas Eve

Curling up beside the fire, she asked him where he came from and what he was doing out on such a cold snowy night? He smiled, “Well, I always go out on Christmas Eve.”

“Christmas Eve, my goodness, it had been a long time since she had thought about Christmas.”

“Christmas was always my favorite time of the year,” she sighed. Teasing him, she said, “Don’t tell me you are Santa Claus.”

“No, I just try to undo a wrong or make someone happy on Christmas Eve.”

“That’s a great gesture, but I think you are off course tonight, Mr. Dakota Do Good.”

“Why is that?”

“There’s nothing to change here, well at least nothing within your power.”

“Have you not enjoyed my company?”

“Well, of course, I have.”

“Enough said.”

“What brought you to this area? Who in Corn Creek, are you going to help?”

“Oh, I never reveal my secrets. A gift of true love needs no reward.”

Smiling, she thought what a truly remarkable man.

“How are you going to deliver it tonight? The roads are almost impassable.”

“Not to fear, I delivered it before I knocked on your door.”

“You know, Dakota, you are a good soul. Not many people would go out on a night like tonight, especially to do a good deed. I am sure you will be blessed for it.”

Dakota said nothing, just smiled.

“Looks like you could use a little help with this place? How long has it been in such a rundown condition?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. It seems like only yesterday that it was brand new, but obviously, some time has passed since then.”

“Obviously,” he reiterated.

Mischievously, she replied, “What if I said that you had entered the world of the forbidden and that you are speaking with a ghost.”

“Well, that would explain some things, but not others.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how many ghosts do you know that eat, need warmth and can be seen by strangers?”

“Not any, but, of course, I have never seen any other ghosts. I have been alone here for a very long time.”

“Let’s forget this ghost business and sing some carols, how about it?”

Tiffany decided to give it a go, and she started the first chorus of Silent Night. Dakota joined right in. They sounded so good together, that one would think they were professionals.

After a few songs, he asked if he could stay until dawn. Feeling safe with him, she agreed to it. After all, tomorrow was Christmas Day.

                                     Deadly Circumstances

After awhile, she fell asleep. Her dreams were scary and dark as she dreamed that a man came and put a pillow over her face as she slept. He was trying to kill her, and he had. His evil face appeared before her. It was Dan. He and Ann had conspired to kill her. Now, at last, she knew the circumstances of her death.

She tried to awaken, but it seemed that the darkness was holding her back and would not let her go. She seemed to be fighting for her life as she screamed out into the cold darkness of her deathly prison. Her arms and legs begin to move about, like in the throes of a seizure; with no evidence of thoughtful control.

                                              The Gift

“Come quick, Dr. Ross, cried Nurse Jane, the patient in 219 is having a seizure.” By the time old Dr. Ross got to the room, the seizures had stopped and the patient was wide awake.

“Welcome back, young lady. How are you feeling?”

Tiffany’s mouth was dry, and all she could murmur was “Water.”

The sips of that cool clear fluid tasted like liquid from Heaven. It was cool and soothing to her dry parched throat.

It took her only minutes to accumulate to her surroundings. She was in a hospital. She was alive. What joy and wonder filled her soul? Was this the nightmare of her coma? No, the police came and told her that someone had tried to kill her. Did she know who might want to hurt her?

She gave them Dan and Ann’s names, but upon running it through the police data base, they found that Dan and Ann had been killed in car crash two weeks after trying to take her life.

Serves them right, ran through Tiffany’s mind.

“Nurse Jane, what day and time is it?” asked Tiffany.

Why, it’s 8 PM, Christmas Eve. Are you up to some Christmas Carols?

“Listening, but no singing,” was Tiffany’s reply.

Nurse Jane smiled and assisted the girl into the wheelchair.

The Christmas tree was beautiful and as the choir sang the ever inspiring Christmas Carols, Tiffany thanked God for his Son and her life. She wondered about Dakota. Had it all been a dream, a sanctuary in her coma?

Who had saved her? Would she ever know? Someone had brought her to the Emergency Room, but no one knew his name, only that he had blue eyes. Also accompanying her was $10,000, the amount that she had in her home on the night of her death. Surely, Dakota was real and not a dream.

I guess I will never know, she signed.

Story time came and Nurse Jane was asked to tell the Christmas story that her mother had handed down from generation to generation.

Well, it is said that on Christmas Eve, Heaven sends a blue eyed angel with the gift of life to one deserving person.




Snickering, she said aloud, “They will be pretty darn scared, that’s what.” She smiled as she visualizes a couple of kids screaming and running across the yard down to the main road which lead to the little town of Corn Creek, Georgia.

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