 |
 |
|
|
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] Shit a kitten? Sheesh, you Texans can come up with some stuff! Tristan continued to laugh. Claire looked at her mockingly. Texans, huh? I learned the shitting a kitten thingy from one of your crew coordinators, and I happen to know for a fact that he is a native of Louisiana. They drove around admiring the town and bickering over which state was best. Neither really cared but enjoyed ribbing the other about what her state did and did not have. The playful banter came to a halt when they pulled through the iron gates of the Myrtles Plantation. The day had become overcast and added to the eerie appeal of the Myrtles. Claire instantly began scanning the windows of the old house trying to catch a glimpse of ghostly activity. From just the brief history Tristan had given her on the ride up, she already had a good case of the creeps. They decided to have lunch since the next tour would not start for an hour or so. Tristan refused to have wine with her meal, reminding Claire that she was a lightweight and would not be able to drive home. In addition, she wanted her mental faculties about 105 Murky Waters her in case they encountered anything strange. They both settled on iced tea. Do you believe in ghosts, Tristan? Claire asked with a smirk. Tristan returned the smirk. I ve never seen a ghost myself, but I suppose that doesn t mean they don t exist. Frankly, I don t know what to make of all the things people have claimed to see. Maybe they want to see something so badly that their mind plays tricks on them. Tristan shrugged her shoulders. What would you do right now if you looked out that window and saw a ghost? Claire widened her eyes, attempting to appear dramatic. Tristan laughed. I can assure you of two things if I saw a ghost right now. First, I would wet my pants. Second, I would run out of this place like I was on fire, and may God help the person who got between me and my car. You better hope that if that happens I have the presence of mind to grab you and take you with me! Claire roared with laughter, so much so that the other patrons turned to look at her. Tristan gave them her most charming smile and shrugged her shoulders as if to say she didn t know what Claire s problem was. Claire was still chuckling when their lunch was brought to the table. The waitress gave her an awkward glance before departing. Tristan had gotten a case of the giggles, as well. She did her best to control herself and asked Claire if she could compose herself long enough to eat. Claire, are you going to be all right? You still have tears in your eyes. Claire choked a couple of times before she could speak. I m sorry, but I just had a mental picture of you running out of here with wet pants and waving your arms like a mad woman. I bet you my next paycheck they would put that in their brochure! The couple giggled all through lunch with no regard for the amused glances thrown their way. After lunch, they stepped outside with a few others to smoke. They listened as some of the tourists talked excitedly about hopefully catching a glimpse of one of the famous ghosts known to haunt the house. Claire found herself drawn into the conversation and had learned all about Chloe, the slave who was hanged there for poisoning two children and the wife of the master of the house. Someone in the crowd mentioned that she had heard 106 Robin Alexander the poison was made from oleander leaves from a popular flowering plant found in yards everywhere. The tour guide joined the group and called their attention to the house. The Myrtles Plantation was built in 1796 by General David Bradford and carries the dubious distinction of being one of the most haunted plantation homes in America. According to legend, the house is built on an ancient Indian burial ground. No less than ten murders have been committed here. The guide drew their attention to the intricate ironwork that surrounded the veranda. Claire poked Tristan in the ribs, causing her to jump. She giggled as Tristan spun around to glare at her. Claire raised both hands in the air. I didn t do it. Are your pants still dry? The antics started a whole new round of giggles from both of them, despite the glances they received from the rest of the group. Tristan paid more attention to the beautiful old live oaks and the grounds, while Claire looked up at each window hoping to get a glimpse of something or someone peering back. Occasionally, they would glance at one another and wink as the guide told stories of ghostly children wandering and playing on the grounds. As they entered the foyer, Claire and the rest of the group admired the three hundred fifty-pound Baccarat crystal chandelier that graced the entrance. Oh, Tristan, look how beautiful. Tristan yawned. What s the big deal? It s just like the one in our dining room, Tristan said a little louder than she intended. The entire group turned around and looked at her, including Claire. Tristan shrugged. Wow, tough room. It was a joke, people. She and Claire burst into another fit of laughter. They decided to hang back from the group since they were having such a hard time behaving. Pamphlet in hand, they decided to conduct their own tour. Tris, it says here that this grand piano plays by itself in the night until someone comes into the room. The ghost apparently plays the same chord over and over. Wouldn t that just piss you off at some point? I wonder if you requested something by Elton John if it would give it a whirl. Their next point of interest was a portrait of a man that had been said to change facial expressions and his eyes would follow a 107 Murky Waters person around the room. Both women stared at the portrait intently, waiting for something to happen. I think he is kind of smiling, Tristan declared after a moment of intense study. You do? I think he looks a little sad. I dare you to fart and see if his nose twitches, Claire said as she studied the portrait while walking backwards to see if the eyes moved. Tristan scratched her head. How old are we again? They both acknowledged that their humor was crass and juvenile, which made them laugh all the more. They meandered through the home, admiring and commenting on various antique pieces. Both were equally impressed with the plaster ceiling medallions, none of which were the same. Claire admired the antique furniture found in each of the rooms. Antiques did not impress Tristan, but she followed the blonde dutifully as she roamed from room to room of the beautifully decorated old house. Claire frowned. I wish we brought a camera with us. We might have captured a ghost on film. I m not much for taking pictures. I always seem to forget to bring a camera with me, and when I do remember, I get so into what I m looking at that I forget to use it. Matter of fact, I don t even own a camera anymore, Tristan said ruefully. The ghostly aura was accentuated by moss-laden live oaks that swayed on the breeze, casting shadows. Tristan walked about the grounds, commenting on different plants and trees. Claire walked beside her, but her eyes were drawn to the house. She had hoped to see something unexplainable but had been disappointed thus far. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |