Spooked!
Chapter 10: Where Audrey Flusters And Blusters
Audrey’s sights were firmly set on solving the mysterious ghostly goings on in the Chatty Goose Inn. She’d first established that Anne hadn’t been smoking Aggie’s ‘medicinal’ tobacco, and that she hadn’t been knocking back more than the recommended limit of Squelchy cider. Either of which could cause visions, hallucinations and arguments with the neighbours over the size of hats. Satisfied that Anne’s paradoxical experience was genuine meant the way was open for Audrey’s star billing as an expert in the supernatural.
Accompanied by Anne and Aggie, Audrey entered the Inn.
‘Where was you sat?’ said Audrey.
Anne pointed to a chair in the corner by the fireplace. ‘There.’
‘Then that’s where I’ll sit.’ And she did, attracting the attention of Sally and Edmund Meadowmist, Reggie and Clothilde Reedpaddler, Celeste Wildcloud, Mrs Pumpleduff and the raggedy old gander from out of the village.
‘Whatcha doing Audrey?’ asked Mrs Pumpleduff.
Audrey nodded her head vigorously, swaying her neck around and around while also clicking her beak, lifting one foot up and ending with wrapping her wings over her head.
‘Shall we call the Doctor,’ said Sally, worried.
‘Has the hunger got you? You need a snack to tide you over until dinner? Cos I’m a person who’s never without provisions on my person.’ Mrs Pumpleduff fumbled in the vast depthless pockets of her cape. ‘Denying hunger is a grievous harm, I always says. Like going to the pond and not paddling. It ain’t right.’ Finally, a pie was produced and plopped on the table next to Audrey’s chair.
‘Pecan and parsley. I’ll not take kindly to a refusal.’
‘Most kind of you, Mrs Pumpleduff. I shall enjoy this. I’m in the process of preparing to fluster,’ explained Audrey, opening her wings and swinging her neck and head around like an out-of-control wrecking ball.
‘With the ghost,’ added Anne.
‘That put the willies up Anne,’ said Aggie.
‘Fluster?’ wondered Celeste.
Audrey stilled her neck swinging, taking a moment to also still the dizziness she felt.
‘Yes. I’m a Ghost Flusterer. You probably didn’t know that,’ said Audrey.
Nobody did, nor had anybody heard of a ghost flusterer before. Mainly because Audrey had made it up on her way to the Chatty Goose. In the back of her mind, she knew she meant it to be something else, but just couldn’t quite grasp the word. Not that it mattered too much. Ghost Flusterer had a catchy ring about it, and to give credit where credit is due, nobody could fluster like Audrey could.
‘Is that right,’ said an impressed Mrs Pumpleduff.
‘It means I’m able to commune with spirits,’ continued Audrey. ‘I shall commune with whoever is here.’
Mrs Pumpleduff deep dived back into the pockets of her cape once again. This time coming up with a bag of biscuits.
‘Ginger nuts. You need plenty of sustenance when communing with spirits. Did you bring any waterproof clothing with you?’
‘No. Why …’
‘Ectoplasm can be messy in my experience,’ said Mrs Pumpleduff. ‘A sou’wester and a rainproof cape are favourite. I’ve an umbrella that could help give you some cover.’
‘That won’t be necessary. Using my intuitive powers will ensure there is no … ecto, ectoplop-- messy experience,’ said Audrey.
‘Oh, I hope not. Had me too many of them back in the day, so I did,’ muttered Anne. ‘And umbrellas were as useless as a marshmallow teapot …’
Another power Audrey truly had was the power of bluster to match the fluster.
‘I make the spirits feel comfy around me, like I’m an old friend they want a good old natter with. Someone they can share their deepest secrets with, knowing they’re safe with me.’
This garnered disbelieving looks from everyone.
‘Take a walk through their life-‘
‘Who could it be, d’ye think,’ burst out Reggie Reedpaddler, looking for a bit of spook action instead of all this talk.
‘Someone who died, Reggie. I’m pretty certain of that. A ghost,’ said Audrey.
‘We believe the ghost wishes to pass on some kind of message,’ said Celeste. ‘It tried to use Anne as a conduit but-‘
‘No one’s using me as a conduit for anything, I’m not a drain pipe I’ll have you know,’ nipped in Anne, shooting a look at Audrey. ‘Audrey’s decided to be that, with her surprising new talent as a Ghost Flusterer and all.’
‘What kind of a message would a ghost have,’ persisted Celeste.
‘Don’t eat the funny looking mushrooms in the meadow,’ volunteered Aggie.
‘Having a great time, wish you were here, perhaps,’ said Reggie, growing impatient. ‘Why doesn’t Audrey ask it, then we can find out.’
‘I shall,’ said Audrey. ‘I’ll need silence, and the lights dimmed please. The ambience has to be right for the … communing.’
‘We can’t dim the lights, Audrey. Because they’re not lit. It’s still daylight,’ explained Edmund Meadowmist.
‘A ginger nut biscuit will help.’ Mrs Pumpleduff handed the bag around. ‘Don’t be shy, they’re there to be eaten. Got some lemon puffs stashed abouts me wherewithal, for those who fancy them. Geese need flesh on their bones unlike the ghosties.’
‘And why doesn’t everyone refresh their drinks before Audrey communes,’ said Sally, a grand idea agreed enthusiastically by all.
With biscuits and drinks refreshed, the lights not dimmed, the Chatty Goose hosts and regulars pulled up their chairs close to Audrey.
‘I’m ready,’ she said. ‘I shall summon and talk to this presence using my special intuitive powers.’
Audrey milked the moment for all it was worth. Eyes closed she lowly moaned lapsing into silences, then breathing deeply, chattering her beak and finally falling very still. A few sceptical looks passed between Reggie, Edmund and Sally.
A long silence ensued broken only by the soft tick tock of the Inn’s clock.
‘Don’t seem to be working,’ whispered Reggie. ‘Maybe Audrey’s fluster is-‘
‘Oi!!! GHOST! SPEAK TO ME. IS THERE ANYTHING YOU DESIRE TO IMPART TO THE FOLK HERE?’ blared out Audrey. ‘A MESSAGE.’
Reggie fell off his chair. Mrs Pumpleduff threw her biscuits up into the air, Celeste near fainted and everyone else’s feathers shot up. Audrey opened an eye to check the outburst had had the memorable effect she’d hoped for. Now for part two.
‘Oh, oh, oh. Yes … Whooooo, oooh, I feel you are near … what was that? I can’t hear you very well. Approach, for only friends await you here … and Anne whom you put the willies up, who might not be friendly but take no notice of her. Approach … leave your ectoplasm behind, no need for it today …’
Something that has to be known here. Audrey didn’t believe in ghosts, at all. Which was strange in Misty Bottom as every gosling grew up on its many legends and mysteries. Stories of apparitions floating on the ponds during a full moon. Ghostly geese flying across the night skies as winter approached. Cheeky spirits knocking on doors and running away tinkling and laughing, stealing hats and scarves. Swiftwing Hall, home of Lord Sebastian and Lady Mirabelle Swiftwing, reputedly had several resident ghosts. Though Lord and Lady Swiftwing had yet to encounter them, much to their disappointment it has to be said.
Misty Bottom was an ancient village with a long history. Most residents were therefore of a mind to believe in ghosts, even if they had never seen one. It made things more interesting, for believing in the impossible requires an open and imaginative mind. And believing in the impossible can lead to amazing things. Like Mrs Pumpleduff’s once tasted, never to be forgotten mashed potato and onion gravy sandwich – with the crusts cut off. How wild is that?
Audrey didn’t believe in ghosts. She had a plan what was she had
‘Ah, you’re here. By my side … you’ve something to say … I’m listening …’
A clanging, rattling, knocking, and eerie hissing suddenly erupted. A sharp blast of cold air swept over everyone.
Piiissssssst, sheeeeeeeeeaaaar, whaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaa.
Audrey froze.
‘What was that? Oh, my! I nearly made meself a mischief.’
AAAAAUUU… PIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSST
‘Who-‘
‘It’s the ghosty. Who else. You called it and it came,’ said a singularly unaffected Aggie, finishing off her glass of Squelchy and helping herself to Anne’s, who was fast on her way out to anywhere but the Inn.
‘The ghost?’ said Audrey.
Pssssssssst. There was another short cold blast of air.
A recovered Celeste leaned in close to Audrey.
‘You do have the power.’
‘Yes …’
‘You are the Ghost Flusterer,’ said an even more impressed Mrs Pumpleduff.
‘Yes …’
‘Only you can interpret what it wishes to tell us,’ said Celeste.
‘Yes …’
‘Then talk to it,’ said Reggie.
‘I need a moment,’ said Audrey.
Audrey’s bluster had been blown away. Certain unpleasant possibilities were currently heavily trampling about in her subconscious, and not being too subtle about it. Possibilities transforming into probabilities, going Woo! Woo! and promising to give Audrey an attack of the willies. Audrey decided that she didn’t want that. It was bad enough she was having another bad feather day to put up with this as well. What to do?
Audrey nibbled on a ginger nut. It helped, as Mrs Pumpleduff had promised it would, and led her to accept the inevitable. She had summoned up a real live ghost, well a real dead ghost, which seemed up for a chat. This was a turn up for the books. What kind of gossip would a ghost have? Something a damn sight better than the second-rate rubbish presently ‘haunting’ the village figured Audrey. The ghost would have what, centuries of gold-couldn’t-buy-it scandal, epic blabber mouthing, flabbergasting chatter.
‘Bring it on!’
‘Bring what on, Audrey,’ said Celeste.
‘The ghost flustering.’
Pisssssssssssst….
TO BE CONTINUED
In case you missed the beginning:
CHAPTER 1: Where the villagers of Misty Bottom have their feathers rudely PLUCKED!
CHAPTER 2: Where we find out that a little bit of Onkyye goes a long way
CHAPTER 3: Where Lady Amelia Loses Her Baubles
CHAPTER 4: Where Inspector Pecker Crashes Into Misty Bottom Society
CHAPTER 5: Where The Handsome Reward Becomes Even More Handsome
CHAPTER 6: Where Lady Amelia Gets Uppity
CHAPTER 7: Where Suspect Geese Get Grilled
CHAPTER 8: Where There Is Unbridled Joy
CHAPTER 9: Where Audrey Gets Tittle-Tattled
Publisher’s Note:
Goosebumps is a collaborative Substack between the crafter of the geese (you can order a goose - delivered to you with a wonderful character description- here) and The Writer in Residence (who is a writer and literally resides in this house). We also have had the unwavering support of Artemisia Writes, with very impressive and generous contributions in the form of (so far) a poem, photographs, shares, enthusiasm and general encouragement.
This collaboration crosses (much like an inebriated person) the boundaries of reality and fiction and was born out of these toy geese’s unstoppable desire to become fictional characters.
Please consider reading the explanatory articles here and here if this is still unclear.
This is an ongoing labour of love, published weekly. If you want to be part of this wonderful and unplanned experiment, please consider subscribing to get the new chapters delivered straight to your inbox. Our work feels somehow more rewarding if there are people reading this and perhaps even enjoying it.
Thank you.
Paradoxical experiences, ginger nut biscuits, Squelchy cider and a noisy ghost make the Chatty Goose Inn the place to be. Especially when Audrey Flapp finally becomes a believer in the supernatural.
Do you want to write the promos for this series?? 😅😅😅