A Welcome Discovery

Returning to the historical society, I worked out how to make hard copy of the microfiche. The article was dated March 7, 1866:

 

 
General Ephron Barnhill, a most distinguished veteran of the recent unpleasantness, has purchased some two hundred and forty acres of prime farmland near the Village of Great Oaks. The general has been credited with victory over the Rebels in several major battles, sending the forces of the enemy flying in defeat.

However, the General is not the only distinguished veteran of the conflict to become a resident of Great Oaks. His recent bride, Mrs Delilah Barnhill (nee Bains) was granted the rank of Major for her service as a spy for the Union forces, infiltrating several Rebel camps. Major Delilah Barnhill is shown here in uniform.

Not only was Mrs. Major Barnhill an accomplished spy, but when the camp where she was placed after returning with the plans she had purloined from the Enemy was overrun, she picked up a sword and rallied the scattered and dismayed soldiers to repulse the attack on the west of the camp.

General Augustus Garner used the respite provided by the courageous woman to form an orderly retreat in the face of the continuing attack on his forces.

Although slightly wounded in the defense of the camp, Delilah Bains continued to brandish her sword at the enemy, prevailing in several fleeting contests of swordsmanship and insuring that the Yankee forces were able to regroup safely.

The following day reinforcements arrived and the Union proved victorious in the ensuing battle. She was awarded the brevet rank of Major for her daring and courage.

Not content to rest on her laurels, the Major once again donned garments more suited to her sex and returned to the Rebel side of the conflict to continue her espionage activities.

Joining the General and his wife will be several members of the General's former regiment. The General's leadership is said to be so inspiring that his men were eager to follow him into civilian life.

The General has employed the architectural firm of Hixon, Jones & Greer to prepare plans for the couple's new home, which this writer is sure will be destined to be a showplace of excellence.

 

"Well damn! Now now we know how it all started."

"So his wife was a Union soldier," mused Vonda. "Could it be her ghost that we're dealing with? After all, any woman who was willing to spy on the enemy and lead a fighting retreat would have had some major willpower."

"Enough to hang around after she died?"

"You never can tell. If I hadn't seen you naked I never would have believed what's happening to you. You got any better explanation than the supernatural?"

"Ask Rod Serling."

"He's dead."

"Maybe we can get our spirit to call him back."

"I refuse to speculate. You find anything interesting?"

Lots of interesting stuff, but nothing that applies to your situation."

"Oh well. Since you told me that the denizens of my new home all got pregnant as soon as they got married, I shall start searching the society columns right after this one was printed."

"You'll outdo old Sherlock at his own game at this rate."

"Just interested in the history of my new Holmes."

"You can stop right there and live to be annoying another day."

"Your wish is my command."

I went back to scanning the microfiche machine. I was fascinated with the gossip columns. Y'know, things like Mister and Missus Victor Whoosiwhatsis, accompanied by their Great Aunt Matilda Hubbert, toured the scenic wonders of Niagara Falls, or Missus Victoria Whatsiwhoosis of Lobilla Falls Montana arrived by train for an extended visit with her nephew Andrew K. Shipley. They plan to attend the cotillion at the Methodist church.

Over the years such sedate commentary gradually changed to things like Who was the gentleman (at least we think he may have been a gentleman) who was seen in the company of the proprietress of the dry goods store late Saturday night? Hint: there was a distinctive stain on his trousers.

Having had my fill of gossip, I went back to my a hunch. Sure enough, on September 15, 1866 the following notice appeared:

 

 
The child, although some weeks premature, arrived in this world at seven pounds and four ounces, lustily announcing her presence to the happy couple. Attending the birth was Mrs Zipporah Taylor, the widowed sister of Mrs Barnhill.

The child was delivered in their recently completed home on what has come to be called Rachel's Repose. Mrs Barnhill, as you may remember, was a noted spy for the Union army during the war. She used the name Rachel in her activities, so the name is entirely fitting.

Christening will be at the Oak Grove Baptist church on Sunday.
 

Aha! The first daughter in the lineage, but it appears the father is still present. I guess the Curse hadn't been cast yet.

Playing another hunch, I started scanning the papers for the weeks around Halloween each year - after all I was looking for ghosts and spirits. Sure enough, on November 2, 1867 I saw this headline:

 
Sheriff Stephen P Garner was called to investigate a multiple murder on the premises of General Ephron Barnhill in the early morning hours following All Saint's Eve. Arriving at the scene, the sheriff found the General's widowed sister-in-law, Mrs Zipporah Taylor, dead of a bullet wound. The General had been grievously wounded by another gunshot and expired shortly after the arrival of the sheriff and his men.

Several of the General's men told a tale of exceeding ferocity. It seems that a former Rebel soldier had formed a great antipathy for Mrs Barnhill as the result of her success as a Union spy in the confederate ranks. This defeated Rebel callously followed the General and his wife to their new home of Rachel's Repose near the town of Oak Grove.

Being surrounded by some twenty of his loyal former soldiers, the General and his wife did not fear for their safety and did not bolt the doors to their home. Thus the culprit was able to gain entry for his evil deeds. It appears that he first came upon Mrs Taylor and, mistaking her for her sister, shot her dead without pity.

At the sound of the shot, the General arose from his bed to investigate and was attacked in the dark by the cowardly assassin. Mrs Barnhill, on hearing a second shot arose and seized the General's sword which he kept in the couple's bedroom. Putting her former training as a soldier and spy to good use, she attacked the man who had so boldly invaded her home and apparently wounded him several times before he made his escape.

Mrs Barnhill attempted to succor her husband, but to no avail. We are pleased to report that their young daughter Magdalene was unharmed in the fracas.

Gathering his men and several of the General's men, Sheriff Garner set off in pursuit of the cowardly culprit. He was overtaken a mile or so from the house and did not survive the encounter.

While Sheriff Garner was loth to ask such a task of the new-made widow, she was able to identify the body as one of the Sergeants in the Rebel forces in the last camp she had infiltrated.

The coroner ruled the attacker's death a suicide despite there being seven sword cuts and five bullet wounds in the body. He is quoted as saying "Anyone fool enough to go up against Mrs Major and her sword and then shoot at a dozen armed men is suicidal as the Devil in my book!"

Services will be held at the Oak Grove Baptist Church and interment will be made in a suitable place at the widow's home at Rachel's Repose.
 

"Vonda! You've got to read this. I think we can be pretty sure who our ghost is."

"That was fast work."

"Luck, or maybe spiritual guidance."

I gave her my seat at the microfiche reader and went off to use the facilities. Please, no comments about becoming so much a woman I have to empty my bladder every five minutes. At least I could still stand up to do it, so just mind your own business.

"That poor women!" Vonda said with a sniffle when I returned. "She certainly had cause to curse that bastard. Still circumstantial, but I'm willing to believe it."

"Me too!" I agreed. I think it's time to call it a day, we've had more luck than we deserve so far."

"Even more than you know. I've found reference to a self-published book called Hangings, Haunts and Hobgoblins in Calivaras County. Published just after the Great War. That's what they called it back then; they had no idea it was only a warm-up for the second act. Tomorrow I'll concentrate on the boxes that have stuff from that era."

"Can you take the time off to do it? I don't want to interfere with your artistry."

"Try and stop me!"

"I didn't want to presume. After all, we've only known each other for a couple of days."

"Seems like longer. I'd say 'my place or yours' but I'm curious to see what appears in your dresser drawers when we wake up tomorrow."

"You had to remind me!" I keep wondering if I'm going to grow so fast this bra strangles me."

"Relax, lover. I'll cut you free if that happens." She squeezed my left boob as she grinned at me. "Feel any bigger yet?"

"Actually, I think it just might be. It's harder to get my finger under the cup than it was this morning."

"So you've been feeling yourself up, eh?"

"Hard to resist playing with a new toy."

"Care to share your toys?"

"We do have to get some sleep tonight, you know."

Before she could respond there was a muffled ringing from inside my purse. I grabbed for it and too out my cell phone. It was the roofers. I put it on speaker so Vonda could hear the conversation."

"Hello, John."

"Hey, boss. Where the hell are you?"

"Would you believe at the historical society?"

"Nope. Now I would believe you're foolin' around with that broad you were with yesterday."

"My name's Vonda, John. The man didn't fool around with me, he was quite serious. And talented!"

"Whoa! Me and my big mouth."

"He has one too, and knows how to use it."

"Well pardon me for living. Glen, the roof is finished and I'm going to shut up before I say anything else stupid. It may be a couple of days before they haul off the dumpster, but the place looks beautiful."

"You have just learned the lesson I had yesterday: no one gets one up on this lady - no way, no how."

"Damn straight," Vonda confirmed. "Nice to talk with you John."

"Just send me the bill," I added.

"Nuff said," and he hung up.

"You're bad, woman."

"You ain't seen nothing yet, girly-man."

"And I intend to keep my eyes closed and enjoy it."

Wednesday - The Curse Revealed

Amazingly enough I did get a full eight hours sleep. We did go to bed early, and even managed to be asleep before too much longer. The frantic urgency of new lovers the night before and mellowed into a nice, cozy closeness.

I awoke when the alarm inside my body told me it was seven AM. Years of having to be up so as to not waste any daylight made that pretty much certain. I was even pleased to discover that my bladder did not wake me up all night long.

As soon as I sat up I knew that that my spectral plastic surgeon had been hard at work while I slept. Ghosts are supposed to be nocturnal, so I guess that isn’t all that surprising. I knew immediately that I was going to need a bigger bra just from the way my breasts swung as I sat up.

I had brought in one of my tape measures before going to sleep - sure enough my waist was one inch smaller and my hips were two inches larger. My bras were now a 36C, my panties magically transformed to size eight to accommodate my smaller waist. My spirit didn't seem to have put much effort into colors this morning - they were all plain solid colors; no patterns. I guess if things keep going the way they were I would be using them for only one day.

I was actually proud of myself that I managed to snap my bra on only the second try.

"You're getting the hang of that, lover," came a sleepy voice.

"I guess I'm going to have to. I've graduated to a C cup this morning."

"Congratulations. You're a big girl now and a big guy when it counts."

"You're counting the times we make love?"

"Four, if I haven't been distracted. You seem to be approaching an hourglass shape."

"Thirty inch waist, thirty-four hips," I said, brandishing my tape measure.

"I wouldn't want a cold metal tape wrapped around my body."

"I guess there's still enough man in me to tough it out."

"As long as our spectre leaves you enough man to get into me!"

"Now that would make a truly despicable plot for a horror movie."

"Looks like it hasn't changed much."

"Look closely while you can. I'm about to see if my new panties will fit."

"Looks like our ghost has lost her fashion sense. You're looking rather plain this morning."

"And you're looking rather naked. I hate to have that changed, but we have a date with some dusty old boxes."

"Spoilsport. Good thing I brought over some clothes. Oh no! I just had a horrible thought. What if our ghost can't tell the difference between our clothes. No way in hell I'd fit in anything of yours."

I picked up her bra from the top of the dresser. "Still 40DD - we have a discriminating ghost."

"Snoop!"

I consider it a healthy curiosity considering my newfound figure."

"As if you hadn't been checking how big any of your other lovers were!"

"I plead the fifth."

"Make mine scotch."

"Blended or single malt?"

"What are you offering?"

"Not a darn thing. I have some beer around the place but I never did like scotch."

"Philistine!"

"Since I seem to be turning into a female, does that mean I have to start drinking white wine?"

"Only if you're out of scotch."

"Shall we see what the closet holds for the day's fashion show?"

"Go right ahead. Since the museum is open today it might be a good idea to go a bit more formal."

"Have you been colluding with the spirit world? There's a very nice skirted suit in here, with pinstripes no less. I suppose the pink blouse beside it is a hint that they go together."

"Since you seem to be half pink and half blue, perhaps a pale lavender would be called for."

"No such luck, but there is a pale purple cocktail dress on the rack. Perhaps our spectre is hinting we need to find a cocktail party after we get done with our research?"

"Whoever she is, she isn't subtle. Let me see."

"I held the garment in front of me as I had seen countless women do."

"Sexy. You'd look nice in that, but no way your pretty pecker wouldn't show."

"Think we could figure out how that gaff thing works?"

"You're starting to enjoy this, aren't you?"

"It has its possibilities."

"She wouldn't have left something for me by any chance?"

"Hmmm - what would you think of a lemon-yellow sheath with a slit up to somewhere unmentionable?"

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. It certainly wouldn't fit me."

"Glenda, this is no longer amusing."

"I suppose if it is the ghost of Mrs Major she's had more than a hundred and fifty years to perfect the manipulation of us mere mortals."

"If you wear that dress tonight there is no way on this green earth you could get into the pickup without exposing yourself."

"I wonder if Mrs Major could turn a pumpkin into a coach for the occasion?"

"Wrong season. It'll be months before the pumpkins are ready. Besides, the mice would eat the pumpkin once they stopped being horses."

"There you go, looking a gift mouse in the mouth."

"I'd rather get flowers. Mice in old houses are a pain."

"I hate to say it, but she seems to have left you a skirted suit in the same pattern as mine, but a little lighter in color," I said, displaying the it for her. "Should contrast with your hair very nicely and your reading glasses will give you a very professional look."

"That pushy broad! I hate being manipulated, but that really is a nice suit."

"Quit bitching and get dressed."

"Can I pee first?"

"Be my guest."

"You do know that you need to wear pantyhose with that outfit?"

"I was afraid of that. There were several pairs in the sock drawer when I looked."

"Think you can get them on without putting a run in them?"

"I've seen it done a few times, so I'll be very careful."

Hah! I got it the first time.
 

Walking up the sidewalk to the historical society building I could hear my two-inch heels resounding with each step. Even with Vonda wearing flats she was still taller than me.

Laurie the curator greeted her friend warmly, looking her up and down with a devilish smile.

"Well, well well! If you two didn't have such obvious assets under those jackets I'd swear you were a couple of Mormon missionaries come calling. Of course, you'd need to wear a skinny tie instead of those ruffled blouses."

"You're just jealous of our professional demeanor.

"Not to mention your fashion sense. Did you have any luck yesterday?"

"We found some interesting things about the place. Did you know it was once known as Rachel's Repose and they farmed two hundred and forty acres around the house?"

"I did. The family started selling off the land around the first world war. Transportation was heading toward cars and trucks, so there was no need for so much farmland to grow fodder for the horses. The family started putting their money into manufacturing. That worked out well until the Great Crash. Things went to hell for just about everybody around then."

"I think Glenda is going to go back to reading the newspapers, but maybe you can help me. I found some references to a self-published book called Hangings, Haunts and Hobgoblins in Calivaras County. You wouldn't know where there's a copy of it?"

"Hmmm. A few years back the library did a thing on hauntings and ghosts and such for Halloween. I think that was one of the books they displayed. Try there."

"Sounds good. Take good care of my girlfriend, Laurie, and I'll be back."

With that she was out the door, leaving me alone with a woman who I barely knew.

"That woman is a pure force of nature, isn't she?" commented Laurie.

"You should see her when she's working - welding leathers and sparks flying to the ceiling like a fountain."

"That's not the only place she makes the sparks fly. I've been to some council meetings where I was afraid she was going to singe old Asshole Jack for some of the stupid shit he proposes."

"Asshole Jack?"

"Reactionary bastard, but he still keeps getting re-elected. Thinks Thomas Edison is a fiend for inventing the light bulb because candle light was good enough for our ancestors."

"Speaking of ancestors, I suppose I need to get back to researching the people who lived in my house."

"Have fun, girl. Let me know if you need anything."

Girl.

After a lifetime of grief for being less than Herculean stature, suddenly I'm very obviously a girl. I mean, if this blouse didn't tie at the neck you could drop stuff in my cleavage and it would stay there.

It's not like I hadn't wondered what it would be like to be a girl from time to time. Idle thoughts, nothing serious, but when you're a 5'7" man people tend to discount you on sight. Size counts! I just never thought it would be cup size I was counting.

After a good hour spent skipping through the society pages I finally found something relevant. From the June 1, 1883 edition of the Calivaris County Clarion:
 

The crystal chandeliers of Brubaker Hall were alight with the reflection of uncounted candles last night as the beautiful Young Women of Calivaris County made their formal debut, much to the delight of the young men clad in immaculate white tie and tails…

I'll spare you more of the prose that was a far deeper shade of purple than the dress Vonda wanted me to wear that evening. The important part was this:

…of particular note was the appearance of Miss Magdalene Barnhill, daughter of General Ephron Barnhill and her mother, widely known as Mrs Major to the denizens of Great Oaks Township.

Mrs Delilah Barnhill, the General's widow, was awarded the rank of Major in the Union Army for her bravery in the conflict with the Rebels of the South. She again proved her valor when a revenge-crazed assassin killed her sister and husband, wounding the assassin with her husband's sword…
 

Oddly enough, I was just a bit jealous of the description of Magdalene's gown. I had to wonder if I would be able to justice to it when my ghost was done with me.

I continued my scanning and had just found an announcement of Magdalene's engagement to Young Mister Jules Brassell when Vonda returned triumphantly waving a handful of printed pages.

"I found it!" she cried exultant. "They wouldn't let me take the book, but I was able to make copies."

"So tell us," I responded.

Hearing the commotion, Laurie had joined us, as had another woman who was looking over the exhibits.

"I found the Curse!" she continued, drawing a very strange look from the random stranger. She began to read from the 1927 publication with vigor: " 'The Curious Curse of Mrs Major,' or so the headline reads."
 

From the placid precincts of what was once the small town of Great Oaks in our fair county comes a tale of blood, revenge and treachery set against the backdrop of the War Between The States.

It is against this background that notoriety was again thrust on this unfortunate family of General Ephron Barnhill…
 

No doubt about it - my wraith-like wardrobe mistress must have known I was going to be immersed neck deep in purple prose when she chose my evening-wear.

I know Vonda had called it lavender when she saw the dress, but I had not been over the feminine side of the line between the sexes long enough to tell lavender from plain old purple. However, with the rate the changes were coming I just might manage it sometime Saturday afternoon…

The first few paragraphs simply rehashed the history of the General, the Major and the murders at Rachel's Repose. The story continued:

Delilah Barnhill, universally called Mrs Major within a few years of the tragedy, had once again rallied the soldiery her husband had brought with him to his place of retirement and was owner and manager of a very prosperous farm, not to mention several business in the county.

On the occasion of her daughter Magdalene attaining her sixteenth year, the young woman cut quite a swath at the annual Debutante Ball in the county Seat. There Magdalene met the handsome son of a merchant baron, one Peter Michael Higgs and the two fell madly in love.

What could have been the Love Story of the Ages was dashed upon the shoals of Mrs Major's implacable hatred of the Rebel cause. For you see, young Peter Higgs was the scion of a family with deep roots in the Southern States.

Legend has it that the young man arrived at Rachel's Repose on July 4th, 1882, the very day of Mrs Major's 44th birthday, to seek Magdalene's hand in marriage. Mrs Major, now in less than robust health, became so incensed that she forbade the couple their nuptials. When the daughter began to plead with her enraged mother, the implacable woman called upon her Soldierly Resolve and pronounced her Curse:

Her home and its environs would remain the domain of the women of her line for all time and Rachel's Repose would be exclusively a place of haven for the fairer sex. Never would any man, let alone the son of a Rebel, sully her family's home for all of Eternity.

Having pronounced her Curse in the presence of her Daughter and her Suitor, not to mention the servants who had gathered at the commotion, Mrs Major fell dead at her daughter's feet, never to rise again.

Despite the tragedy, the couple were married about a year later, but tragedy once again stalked Rachel's Repose. Young Magdalene, as is the normal course of these things, became pregnant soon after the wedding. Making their home in his wife's family home, young Peter disappeared within weeks of the announcement of his child's impending birth.

Magdalene, who had become quite adept in the running of the family estate, carried on. As was often the custom in those days, Peter's cousin Petra Higgs came to be Magdalene's companion during her confinement. As far as anyone knows, Miss Petra remained with Magdalene and her daughter for many years after.

Magdalene was to overcome further scandal in the coming years, birthing two more daughters despite her Husband being no longer in the household. Neighbors said that the daughter inherited much of Mrs Major's steely will and personality, ignoring the snubs of those who felt her scandalous behavior should exclude her from polite society.