The Ghostly Figure

As they neared the intersection of Hill Road and Old Stage, Karl eased his foot off the gas in anticipation of the upcoming stop sign. On the passenger's side of the car the east drive of the Moravian church on the corner slid past.

Joann was humming along with the Beatles on the softly playing car radio, but the next note caught in her throat, and with a strangled gasp she quit singing.

Karl's surprised voice cut through the sudden stillness, "What the . . . ?" So great was his surprise that the words were left hanging.

A tall man well over six feet in height was walking along the road on the north side of the car. Fog-draped tombstones in the cemetery just behind him created an eerie backdrop The man didn't turn at the sound of the approaching car or make any sign that he was aware of their presence. As the car neared the stop sign, he was caught fully in the glow of the headlights giving both the adults in the front seat and the boys in the back a clear view of his appearance.

The figure wore a long topcoat reminiscent of those in style during the years around the Civil War. Perhaps it was the stovepipe hat, the type so often seen in pictures of Abraham Lincoln, that brought up images of that era.

His hands were tucked into the pockets of the dark coat, but all four later agreed that the sleeves hung limply from the figure's shoulders as though his arms were either missing or severely emaciated.

As the car drew up beside the man, the family gasped in unison as they got a good view of the figure. It was the youngest of the boys that put all their thoughts into words. "He don't have no feet. He's floating, not walking."

Indeed, on closer inspection the figure was drifting along the grass. No feet were visible beneath the coat.

The car slid past the man, and Joann and both boys spun around in their seats to stare at the figure. Once again it was the youngest boy, usually the quietest, that spoke. "He don't have a face neither."