網誌
2008年3月30日 上午6點16分10秒A GHOST STORY
A GHOST STORY
Dedicated to: Jazzie, for her comment
nody, Hnadi, Mtv (long time no see!), Angel of Kuwait
and all my young friends...
My house, where I lived throughout my childhood with my parents, is surrounded on
three sides by rivers, the other side is a range of hills and mountains. The river at the
back of my house is just a branch of the great river in front. It flows, at numerous spots,
between the gardens and deserted lands on the two banks, with thick shrubs and big trees,
and gets very dark at night. My early years were full of ghost stories. My grandma used to
tell us that whenever she passed that section of river on boat by night, she heard a voice
urging from the deep water "Row fast!... Row fast!..", and the boat man hurried to push
his oars. Otherwise, a white hand would raise up from the water and grab the boat-side
and only God knew what would happen.
So we never dared to bath in that river at night.
When I grew up and came to the University, I forgot all those stories. I used to take bath
in that small river by night, and swim along the big river in daytime.
One night, I went to attend a ceremony party at a friend's home in a nearby hamlet. Past
midnight, as I walked back home, I chose a shortcut which led straight to my garden on
the other side of that small dark river.
But there was no bridge at that spot, and I decided to swim across the river. I put out all
my clothes then swim across the river with a hand raising up, holding them over the water.
Reaching to the bank on my garden, I stepped up and began to put on my clothes again.
But when I picked up my shirt and looked up, I saw the girl.
She was standing on the other riverbank, right at the spot I just left some fifteen minutes
before.
The night was lit with a vague moon, which made all the shadows darker. But the girl was
standing right in the moon light, clearly distinguished from the dark background of trees,
looking in my direction. I thought I could see a fixed look on her white face. A white and
pale face.
I had a shudder.
Various ideas came into my mind. The memories and fears from childhood... the curiosity...
the philosophical thinking and conviction of a young student... the desire to know if there
were ghosts or there were not ghosts... etc. So I looked at the girl once more, then putting
on only my shorts, I swam back to the place on the other riverside.
When I reached the bank, the girl disappeared.
I kind of looked around, but she was nowhere. It was just a vision.
I swam back again to my garden after shrugging my shoulders. "Illusion!..." I told myself.
But as I put on my shirt, and looked toward that direction just for a try, I saw the girl again.
She was standing at the same place, fixed her look at me.
And this time, she waved to me. A white hand, waving. Imperceptibly... but I was sure that
she moved something.
Then she waved to me again, this time very clearly. I could see her hand waving and waving...
You can laugh, but I was a little drunk that night, after the party. I swam back again to the
girl, for the second time.
I thought she was probably a ghost, and I would be able to see her, maybe talk with her,
and I would know the truth about that question. There's still no proof to show the existence
of ghosts, but there's also no proof to affirm their non-existence.
Once more, I got to the spot, and once more, the girl disappeared. I was very disappointed,
and a little angered.
I stood there, looking around... then I moved a little around, searching...
Then I understood.
The banana tree, and the moon!
There was a banana tree at the edge of that garden, and it was lightened when the moon
got out of a flowing cloud... then sunk into the shadow when the moon was hidden behind
another cloud. The banana big leaves, reflecting the moon light, gave me the vision of the girl.
And it also gave me a feeling of cold. I don't know if ever I meet a real ghost, I would have
that same feeling...
Dear friends - and Dear jazzie,
Just for you, to have a certain moment of relaxation... if you're not scared.
My ghost stories are not real ghosts, though they might be scary sometimes. But I have been
told of many real ghost stories from trust-worthy people. I will tell you some, when we have
the opportunity. OK?
Best regards,