Spectral Evidence

Thomas Hopkins sat at the din­ner table with his wife, Anna, exhaust­ed. It had been anoth­er tumul­tuous morn­ing with Thomas’s moth­er, Sarah. Tensions had been high ever since he and Anna had wed. Sarah dis­ap­proved, and the women’s per­son­al­i­ties made it impos­si­ble to compromise.

Thomas moved in with his moth­er after the death of his father, Robert Hopkins. Although they were not affec­tion­ate, Thomas felt it was his duty to care for his moth­er. She was agree­able to the arrange­ment, giv­en the lev­el of man­age­ment need­ed to main­tain the home. Thomas cared for all the affairs in exchange for liv­ing in the house. It had worked smooth­ly until he met Anna Wilkes.

Anna was a beau­ti­ful woman with auburn hair and ten years Thomas’s junior. Educated and well-spo­ken, she was a mem­ber of the promi­nent fam­i­ly that owned the steel mill in town. Sarah hat­ed them. The two fam­i­lies had a land dis­pute gen­er­a­tions ago. Sarah still held a grudge and felt no good could come from a Wilkes. She cer­tain­ly did not want them in her bloodline. 

Anna did not help mat­ters with her stub­born atti­tude and quick wit. She did not shy away from con­fronta­tion, which made Sarah furi­ous. Both women were vying for the title of Lady of the House, and nei­ther backed down. Thomas cer­tain­ly had his hands full. 

In recent months, Sarah had begun demand­ing that Thomas and his wife pay rent. Thomas repeat­ed­ly argued with his moth­er that it was unfair to expect him to man­age all of the fam­i­ly affairs for noth­ing. This morning’s break­fast yield­ed the same argument.

Thomas watched as his moth­er stormed off to her bed­room upstairs. He closed his eyes, rest­ing his head in his hand and releas­ing an exhaus­tive sigh. Anna began to speak.

Thomas raised his hand. “Please, dar­ling. Not now.” He did not both­er mak­ing eye con­tact with her. Anna reluc­tant­ly complied. 

Thomas allowed him­self and his moth­er time to calm down before going upstairs to her room. He was hop­ing they could talk things out. Climbing the stairs, he noticed an odd odor, like some­thing was burn­ing. Turning the cor­ner toward Sarah’s bed­room, Thomas saw the smoke bil­low­ing from her doorway.

“Anna! Come quick­ly with water! There is a fire!” Why had his moth­er not noti­fied him? Where was she?

Upon enter­ing Sarah’s bed­room, Thomas real­ized in hor­ror why she had not called for help. There, lying uncon­scious on the floor, lay Sarah. Her tor­so and head were engulfed in flames.

Thomas was in shock. He grabbed a blan­ket and threw it over his moth­er to smoth­er the flames. He could hear the sound of his wife run­ning down the hall.

“What on earth has hap­pened?” Anna shrieked in ter­ror at the grue­some dis­play. Thomas took the buck­et of water from her and poured it onto the life­less, burn­ing body on the floor.

Anna col­lapsed to the floor, weep­ing. Thomas felt his knees giv­ing way. Bracing him­self against the door­way, he could not bear to look at his mother’s body now smol­der­ing on the floor. What hap­pened? He turned to his wife.

“Come, my dar­ling. Let me get you down­stairs where you can lie down. I will take care of mat­ters here.” 

Thomas assist­ed Anna to the par­lor, hav­ing her lie on the chaise. He brought her some water and a handkerchief.

“Try to relax. I will take care of every­thing.” Thomas gen­tly kissed her on the fore­head and pre­pared for what await­ed him.

Thomas entered Sarah’s bed­room. The smell of smoke and burn­ing flesh hung thick in the air. Thomas had to look at the body. He pulled back the blan­ket. Sarah’s face was slight­ly tilt­ed toward him. Her lips were gone, leav­ing her with a per­ma­nent, dead­ly grin. Thomas felt light-head­ed and nau­seous. He closed his eyes to regain his com­po­sure. Thomas again looked down at Sarah’s body notic­ing a pool of blood sur­round­ing her head like a halo. She must have fall­en and hit her head on the stone hearth, knock­ing her­self uncon­scious. Sarah had prac­ti­cal­ly fall­en into the fire­place. She had like­ly been entire­ly unaware of the burns. He hoped that she had not suffered.

Thomas went to fetch his horse and wag­on. He need­ed to get Sarah to town for the under­tak­er to pre­pare her cof­fin and declare her legal­ly dead. Hitching the horse to the wag­on, Thomas tried to remem­ber the last words he and Sarah had said to each oth­er. They had argued, the guilt began to rise. Choking back tears, he con­tin­ued prepar­ing his horse. This is not the time. Thomas led his horse and wag­on to the front of the house. Entering the house, he removed an extra blan­ket to wrap the body in. The thought of mov­ing her body made his stom­ach churn, but he must.

Spreading a fresh, dry blan­ket onto the floor, Thomas lift­ed Sarah’s body onto it. Wrapping her up care­ful­ly, he car­ried her to the wag­on for the jour­ney to town. Thomas need­ed to pre­pare her for bur­ial and report her death to both the under­tak­er and the sheriff.

Thomas pulled his wag­on in front of the undertaker’s office. Roland Lewis has been the under­tak­er for the past twen­ty years. This was only the sec­ond time that Thomas had need­ed to see him. He tied up his horse and stepped inside. Roland sat at his desk, work­ing on some paper­work. He looked up to see who had entered and smiled at Thomas.

“Hello there, Thomas! What brings you by?” Roland had not heard of any­one from their fam­i­ly being in poor health, so he was sur­prised to see him.

Thomas looked down and took a deep breath. Quietly, he informed Roland of the rea­son for his vis­it. “It’s moth­er, Roland. She’s been in an acci­dent. She didn’t make it.”

Roland removed his glass­es and looked at Thomas. “I’m so sor­ry to hear that. Do you have her with you?”

“I do, sir. I have her out­side in the wag­on. I can help you bring her in, and I will let you know what I think may have hap­pened. The best that I can tell anyway.”

Roland went to the back and brought a long board that he used to trans­port the dead inside. He and Thomas stepped out to retrieve Sarah’s body.

Thomas began to explain. “Mother went upstairs to her bed­room. She must have fall­en and hit her head on the stone hearth. The top por­tion of her body was engulfed in flames when I found her. There is blood on the floor above her head, which is why I think she must have fall­en. That’s all I know, really.”

Roland lift­ed the blan­ket to observe Sarah. “What a shame. I hate to hear that, Thomas. I’m so sor­ry for your loss. If you will help me car­ry her in, I will pre­pare her for bur­ial. Unfortunately, you will have to see Sherriff Lawson and let him know. He will need to see the spot where she fell, of course. Just pro­to­col. I’m sure you understand.”

Thomas nod­ded. “Yes, yes, of course.” The two loaded his moth­er onto the board and brought her inside. Roland shook Thomas’s hand and again offered his con­do­lences. Thomas walked to the Sheriff’s office to report her death.

When Thomas walked in, Sheriff Lawson was final­iz­ing the paper­work for his newest pris­on­er, an old drunk named George.

“Hello, Thomas. What can I do for you?”

Thomas removed his hat and informed the sher­iff of his mother’s death and the cir­cum­stances behind it. “If you have time and want to come out and see her room, I will be going back as soon as I am done here.”

The sher­iff offered his con­do­lences. Putting away his paper­work, he grabbed his hat. “Of course, I can fol­low you back. George is sleep­ing it off, any­way. He’ll be fine for a few hours.” 

The two left and rode back to the Hopkins home.

Thomas took the sher­iff to Sarah’s bed­room. Anna sat on the chaise, star­ing blankly out the win­dow. She took no notice of the two men going upstairs. Sheriff Lawson sur­veyed the smoke dam­age and stud­ied the blood on the floor. 

“Yes, Thomas. I think you are right. So unfor­tu­nate. I will write up the report for Roland. You are free to clean this up now. I am so very sor­ry for your loss.” 

He shook Thomas’s hand. Thomas led the sher­iff to the door and pro­ceed­ed to check on his wife before tak­ing on the dread­ful task of clean­ing his mother’s room. Once com­plet­ed, he must ride to Uncle Benjamin’s house and inform Ben of his sister’s demise.

Thomas was able to con­vince his wife to lie down and rest. Today had been excru­ci­at­ing for all of them. After he fin­ished the task of clean­ing his mother’s room, he shut the door. The reminder of the griz­zly scene was too much to face right now. He had only a cou­ple of hours before night­fall. Thomas need­ed to go ahead and let Ben know what had hap­pened. He was not look­ing for­ward to the vis­it. Thomas and Ben had nev­er been close.

Upon hear­ing the news, Ben sank into his chair. “Burned in a fire? Where were you, Thomas?”

“We had just fin­ished break­fast. I was down­stairs. I had no idea till I went upstairs to check on Mother.” Thomas did not like the tone that Ben was cur­rent­ly using.

Ben was shak­ing his head in dis­be­lief. “You mean to tell me that you did not hear a thud or anything?”

Thomas want­ed to avoid the direc­tion of this con­ver­sa­tion. “No, sir. I heard nothing.”

Ben was becom­ing agi­tat­ed. “I’m guess­ing that you were quar­rel­ing again. Sarah said that was all that you do these days.”

Thomas had enough. “I will let you know the arrange­ments once Roland has every­thing pre­pared. If you have any fur­ther ques­tions, you may con­tact the sher­iff. He sur­veyed the scene this morning.” 

Thomas turned and walked out the door. Ben can grieve alone.

Ben had been wor­ried about the con­sis­tent argu­ing that had been going on at his sister’s home. His nephew, Thomas, was noth­ing more than a free­loader as far as he was con­cerned. And that wife of his was no bet­ter. Ben was sure that his sis­ter would still be alive if they had been tak­ing care of her. He saw no need to ask the sher­iff for more infor­ma­tion. Sheriff Lawson has made his rul­ing. The fact that Thomas was enti­tled did not equate to a crime. 

Thomas was relieved to find that Anna had fall­en asleep. The more he thought about his con­ver­sa­tion with Ben, the angri­er he became. Thomas knew that Ben was insin­u­at­ing that he had done some­thing to cause the acci­dent or, at the very least, had not done enough to pre­vent it. His emo­tions were worn thin, and he had lit­tle patience for any­thing else. Thomas need­ed to sit and be alone with his thoughts. 

Ben went to bed dis­traught over the day’s events. He won­dered if he had been too rough with Thomas. Ben shook away the guilt. Sarah had con­fid­ed her unhap­pi­ness to him. She meant more to him than his nephew. Thomas deserved to feel bad for what he did — mov­ing in on his moth­er and being tak­en care of like a child. It was time for him to grow up and be a man. It took a long time for Ben to fall asleep. His slum­ber was any­thing but peaceful.

Ben awoke to his cov­ers being jerked from his bed. It star­tled him great­ly, and he feared rob­bers had entered the house. Instead, there stood his beloved sis­ter, Sarah, ghost­ly in appear­ance and still bear­ing the burns from the pre­vi­ous day. Ben was terrified.

“Do tell me! Who are you? Why are you here?”

The appari­tion moved toward him. Ben pulled the cov­ers clos­er. The specter shrieked.

“Do you not know me? I am your sis­ter. Look how I have burned. Look how I have burned!” 

And then, she was gone. 

Ben was shak­ing uncon­trol­lably. He did not sleep the rest of the night. As soon as the sun rose, he knew what to do. Ben mount­ed his horse and rode to town to vis­it Sheriff Lawson.

Sheriff Lawson had just sat down to start his day when Ben stormed through the door. 

“Sheriff! I have rea­son to believe that my nephew killed my sis­ter! I was told so just last night!”

The sher­iff was shocked. “Hold on there, Ben. Thomas? Are you say­ing that Thomas killed his moth­er? Ben, I know you are upset, but I saw where Sarah died. Everything lines up with what Thomas said. Who told you this?”

Ben stepped clos­er, look­ing the sher­iff in the eye. “Sarah did. She came to me last night. She told me that Thomas killed her.”

The sher­iff looked at Ben in shock. “Are you sure, Ben?”

Ben was emphat­ic. “I am. She came to me to show me her burns. Sarah needs her death avenged. What are you going to do about this sheriff?”

The sher­iff knew what he had to do. 

“Have a seat, Ben. Let’s talk some more.”

Ben reliv­ed his har­row­ing evening with the sher­iff. He shared his con­ver­sa­tions with Sarah in pre­vi­ous months regard­ing her unhap­pi­ness with Thomas and his wife. Ben informed the sher­iff that Sarah had also spo­ken to oth­er fam­i­ly members. 

Sheriff Lawson lis­tened care­ful­ly. He had nev­er had a sit­u­a­tion such as this to come up. As Ben spoke, Lawson took notes and record­ed the names of fam­i­ly mem­bers and neigh­bors he need­ed to speak with. He would also need to make anoth­er vis­it to Thomas.

After Ben left, Lawson walked over to the undertaker’s office. Roland greet­ed him warm­ly but imme­di­ate­ly noticed the seri­ous­ness in his eyes. “Everything ok, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Lawson removed his hat. “No, Roland. I’m afraid it’s not. Have you begun prepar­ing Sarah Hopkins for bur­ial yet?”

Roland removed his glass­es. “No, sir, I haven’t. Is there a problem?”

The sher­iff nod­ded. “I’m afraid so. I am inves­ti­gat­ing this as a mur­der. New evi­dence has been pre­sent­ed that needs to be looked into.”

Roland looked sur­prised. “You don’t say! If you don’t mind me ask­ing, where did this new evi­dence come from?”

Sheriff Lawson placed his hat on his head, look­ing at Roland directly. 

“Sarah.”

With that, he turned and left.

Most of the day was spent inter­view­ing those clos­est to Sarah. All of them agreed that she was cer­tain­ly not hap­py with her arrange­ments after her hus­band died. It seems that things were going well at first, but then Thomas fell in love and mar­ried that “damned old Wilkes woman.” Sarah did not like the fact that she was now finan­cial­ly sup­port­ing her, as well. It seemed that all fin­gers were point­ing straight at Thomas. 

Sheriff Lawson’s next stop was the most impor­tant. He need­ed to speak to the pas­tor about Ben’s claim that Sarah’s spir­it vis­it­ed him in the night. Lawson found this incred­i­bly dis­turb­ing, and cou­pled with the family’s state­ments about the rela­tion­ship between Sarah and her son; it appeared that he had a mur­der on his hands.

The sher­iff entered the church qui­et­ly and respect­ful­ly. In the front row, he saw Pastor Eli sit­ting qui­et­ly with his head bowed. Sheriff Lawson sat on a pew sev­er­al rows back and respect­ed the reverend’s pri­va­cy. Soon, the min­is­ter stood up and began mov­ing about. Sheriff Lawson stood to approach him, star­tling Pastor Eli.

Oh! Sheriff! I didn’t see you come in. How are you doing? Is every­thing alright?”

Lawson apol­o­gized for star­tling him and then con­tin­ued. “I’m afraid not, Reverend. Sarah Hopkins passed away yes­ter­day in what I thought was a nasty acci­dent. But now, I’m not so sure. You see, Sarah’s spir­it vis­it­ed Ben, her broth­er, last night. She came to him show­ing her the burns she received from the fireplace.”

“Oh, my . . .” The pas­tor was vis­i­bly shocked.

“Yes, it was a grue­some sight. It ter­ri­fied Ben. I’ve nev­er been in this sit­u­a­tion before. I was hop­ing you could assist me with issues from the . . . spir­i­tu­al realm.”

Pastor Eli sat down slow­ly. “This is seri­ous. The Bible speaks plain­ly of ghosts mak­ing them­selves known to us. Sarah needs to avenge her mur­der. Have you spo­ken with her family?”

Lawson nod­ded. “Yes. They all say that she and Thomas were not get­ting along very well. That Sarah was unhap­py and did not appre­ci­ate Thomas and his wife liv­ing on her mon­ey with lit­tle contribution.”

“Thomas?!” The pas­tor was shocked. “Her own son! That is ter­ri­ble! Sheriff, you must deal with this right away!”

“I plan to. I just need­ed your bless­ing first.” The sher­iff felt val­i­dat­ed in his cur­rent plan. 

“Of course. Sarah has spo­ken. That answers any ques­tions that I may have. It should for you, as well,” Pastor Eli said knowingly.

The sher­iff nod­ded. He shook the pastor’s hand and left. It was now time to speak with Thomas.

The after­noon was grow­ing late when Lawson arrived at the Hopkins res­i­dence. He knocked on the front door and was greet­ed by Anna. She appeared tired but was cordial.

“Good after­noon, Sheriff. Please come in.”

“Thank you Mrs. Anna. I was hop­ing to speak with Thomas.”

“Yes, sir. He is in the gar­den. I will let him know you are here. Please have a seat in the par­lor. Would you like some­thing to drink? We have some fresh lemonade.”

Sheriff Lawson shook his head. “No, ma’am, but thank you just the same. I will sit here in the par­lor and wait for Thomas.”

Anna smiled polite­ly. “Of course. Let me know if you change your mind.” And with that, she turned to go inform Thomas of his visitor.

Thomas entered the par­lor and greet­ed his guest. The look on Sheriff Lawson’s face gave Thomas some concern. 

“Hello, Sheriff. I was not expect­ing to see you. What can I do for you?”

Sheriff Lawson looked at Thomas grave­ly. “I’m afraid this is not a friend­ly vis­it, Thomas. I have been talk­ing to some of your rel­a­tives about the tur­moil between you and your moth­er. We have had a wit­ness come forth and say that you may have been behind Sarah’s death. According to your fam­i­ly mem­bers, this appears to be the case. I am here to place you under arrest, Thomas.”

Thomas was shocked. “Under arrest?! I had noth­ing to do with Mother’s acci­dent! It was Ben, wasn’t it? He has nev­er liked me. You can­not believe a word he says. Mother and I had our dis­agree­ments, but I would nev­er hurt her. “

The sher­iff took out his rope and placed Thomas’s wrists togeth­er. “It wasn’t Ben, son. It was your mother.” 

Thomas’s face grew white.

Things moved quick­ly after that. Thomas’s new home was the coun­ty jail. His tri­al was sched­uled, and he walked with the sher­iff dai­ly to the cour­t­house. Anna attend­ed the hear­ing for the first two days, but Thomas wor­ried about her health. He sent her a mes­sage to go and stay with her fam­i­ly and rest. Too much has hap­pened too quick­ly. Thomas lis­tened as, one by one, his fam­i­ly mem­bers tes­ti­fied to Sarah’s unhap­pi­ness with Thomas and their tumul­tuous rela­tion­ship. Thomas felt betrayed. But the most crim­i­nal­iz­ing of tes­ti­mo­ny was from his Uncle Ben, who told in detail of his encounter with the spir­it of Sarah in his bed­room the night of her death. The crowd in the court­room gasped as they lis­tened to Ben tell of his sister’s appear­ance and pleas to look at her injuries. 

“Do you not know me? I am your sis­ter. Look how I have burned. Look how I have burned!” Ben recount­ed. The court­room erupt­ed in gasps and called for Thomas Hopkins’s imme­di­ate exe­cu­tion. The judge made his rul­ing. Their wish was granted.

On the day of the exe­cu­tion, Thomas stood at the gal­lows in the town cen­ter. No last words were spo­ken. As the rope snapped the neck of Thomas Hopkins, the crowd erupt­ed in cheers. Looking down from a high win­dow stood a white fig­ure with a per­ma­nent, ghoul­ish smile. 

Sarah Hopkins always gets her way.