Issued 57

Christmas at the Mailbook’s was great. Not only did Bill and Martha had wonderful time with their children, but they also manager to give their grandchildren something extra they sure to enjoyed. They even manger to cook up a large turkey. Something both Mr. and Miss Mailbook haven’t had the luxury in quite some time. in all Christmas day that year was wonderful and yet after all of the clean, and say in their goodbyes to all their  love ones and friends,  a strange though had came over Martha   as she sat up on the bad staring down at her hands as if it was trying to tell her something.


“Bill, are you up?”


“Just,” Bill said while turning over to his side while looking at her wife, “you can’t sleep.”


He quickly notes the how worried his wife really was and sat up nixe to her to see what it was that was bothering her.


“Honey what is it?”


I was thinking, she said, about the money order we have gotten few days ago.


“What about it?”


“Well it just came me about who might have send us the money and…”


“-And What?”


“Well you remember that man that strange man we have meet walking down our road.”


“How can’t I,” said Bill, “he was a strange one not form around here that much I can tell you,” and that when pit hit him. “Martha, you don’t think it was,


“-Well who else can it be but him, Martha said, “I know it sounds crazy but I am sure it was him who send us that, money order.”


“But it doesn’t add up, Martha, I mean we both saw what he looked like. The man was clearly not fit to give us anything let alone five hundred dollars.”

“-And yet said Martha am sure with all my heart that it was him. Paying us back for the kindness we have seen to him. In fact I think he came to our neighborhood for that very reason.


Bill give out a chuckle, “well, Martha, you make it sound like that man we saw mouths ago was not alive.


Bill’s wife gives him a worrisome look which told him right away that it was exactly what his wife means.


“Martha, he said softly while holding his wife hand, you’re not really suggesting that…”


“-Yes I am,” Martha said while looking down at her hand and not at her husband, you felt his hands when you give him the money. You saw how unnatural he was when we saw him face to face you.


“Yes I remember, but that does not mean the person we saw, we came in contact with was a sprit.”


“He was a sprit,” Martha insisted, and I know he was the one who had send us the money order—God rest his soul.


Bill let out a deep breath before speaking, “Honey I want you to thank about this for a minute I give the man five dollars. He took out of my hand.  Do really think a sprit needs money if he is not even alive to use it.


“No,” Martha replied, but then aging what if that was part of the test what if that was his way of rewarding use five hundred times fold.”


Bill wanted to say something only to have his wife stop her from doing so, “look I know this all sound crazy. And yes I know in many ways it did upset me, but I strongly believe that man had come to use for a reason.  You feel the same way too, Bill, why use had you…had we never mention what happen to our neighbors, our friends, or even our own children. Why hide that fact that we had seen and talk to a man unless we thought there was something off about him?”


At this point Bill didn’t know what to say on the matter. On one hand he never believes in ghost, and yet on the other hand he was not covetable talking about what he had experiences with this stranger with other. Was it the fact he did not wanted to alarm his friends and family? Or was it something else that he himself did not care to admit?


“Martha,” he said softly while rubbing his hand on his wife’s shoulders, why don’t we just get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow and the last thing we need to is lost sleep over matters we have no control of.


“Martha nodded and after kissing her husband good night she roll over t her side and was quickly sound asleep leaving her husband to think hard as to what she had told and weather if there was some truth behind it.

By Jockerlee 77

Co Writer T-Kun U.W.III

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