A Ghost on the coast

Adapted by Learnin Vernon from a folktale told by Chuck Larkin

who collected it from an English Storyteller in London

 

Once upon a time there was a mailman who had to deliver mail to a lighthouse. This was his first day on the job and as with any new adventure he was nervous and excited at the same time. The lighthouse stood tall on a small island surrounded by the sea on the North East Edge of Maine.

The lighthouse protected the ships coming into the harbor from all the jagged and pointy rocks that could cause an awful CRASH! This was a good thing; however ships could not reach the tiny Island to deliver the mail.

 

Canada is known for its very low tides and this island was so far up in Maine it was almost in Canada. Twice a year the ocean tide would get low enough that a person could peddle a bicycle as fast as possible, across a sand bar to the lighthouse.  The mail man would deliver the mail while the tide changed. Then he had to spend the night and catch the next turning of the low tide 12 hours later exactly or spend the next 6 months at the lighthouse with the lighthouse keeper.

 

Mail time was an exciting day for the Light house keeper Samuel Cully. Not only did the mailman arrive on his bicycle with all of his mail, he always carried small packages of cookies and candy for the lighthouse keeper as well. All stored in a huge bag on his back and a second huge bag in the basket sitting on the front wheel of his bicycle.

The Lighthouse keeper watched the sea and when the tide touched the "get ready marker" he started counting down "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1" and the postal carrier began pedaling his bicycle out between the waves as fast as he could. Just as he reached the island the waves came crashing in over the sandbar.

The mail man followed Mr. Cully as they slowly climbed up the 113 circular lighthouse stairs to the top where the lighthouse keeper lived.

It was a comfortable home with two guest bedrooms. The Light House Keeper gave the mailman a nice supper of haddock and flounder and after a short visit the mail man exhausted after his bicycle ride and climbing the 113 stairs went to one of the guest rooms and fell asleep.

That night the mailman heard a bloodcurdling scream. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

He sat up in bed but in the darkness he could see nothing but what appeared to be a Skelton flying in the distance.

More screaming followed. ”Cully, Cully, Culllieeeee!”

“Mine! Mine! Mine!”

“ping Ponk,Ping Ponk, PING Ponk”

Then all appeared still very still the silence was interrupted by the loud pounding of his heart and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks below.

 

The mail man did exactly what I used to do when I was scared. He stayed in bed under his covers.

Early the next morning the Mail man had to run down the stairs all 113 of them in order to catch the changing of the tide.

He did not see the lighthouse keeper any where. He grabbed his bicycle and pedaled as fast as he could back over the sand bar.

For the next 6 months he wondered about what he heard and was the lighthouse keeper still there? Who was calling out his name? The next visit the postal carrier returned with his bags of mail, and supplies..

The Lighthouse keeper was not at the sand bar. No one watched the sea and when the tide touched the "get ready marker" No one was there to start counting down. So the postal carrier counted to himself "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1" pedaling his bicycle out between the waves as fast as he could. Just as he reached the island the waves came crashing in over the sandbar.

The mail man slowly climbed up the 113 circular lighthouse stairs to the top where the lighthouse keeper lived.

He was very exhausted as he climbed round and round up the stairs up to the top of the lighthouse. And at the very top of the stairs in the kitchen, he was shocked to see,-------- the lighthouse keeper!

 

"What happened to you Mr. Cully? Are you OK? What was that awful scream I heard outside my room?”

"I'm fine, see I am ok, but let's not talk now, let me finish cooking your Cod and Mackerel so we can eat."

The tired mailman ate his supper. He then sat down in one of the stuffed chairs and while listening to the lighthouse keepers stories about what has happened in the past 6 months at the Light house the mailman fell asleep.

He never got a chance to ask the Light house keeper about the noises.

That night the mailman heard another bloodcurdling scream. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

He sat up in bed but in the darkness he could see nothing but what appeared to be a Skelton flying in the distance.

More screaming followed. ”Cully, Cully, Culllieeeee!”

“Mine! Mine! Mine!”

“ping Ponk,Ping Ponk, PING Ponk”

 

Do you know what the mail man did next? Right! The mail man did exactly what I used to do when I was scared. He stayed in bed under his covers.

Early the next morning the Mail man had to run down the stairs all 113 of them in order to catch the changing of the tide.

He did not see the lighthouse keeper any where. He grabbed his bicycle and pedaled as fast as he could back over the sand bar.

For the next 6 months the Mailman wondered what happened that night. His mind would race withal kinds of thoughts. “What were the sounds he heard? Are ghosts of shipwrecked sailors calling out to Mr. Cully for help or worse angry with him? What if they are looking for him and come after me instead?” The more the mailman worried the worse his thoughts had become.

However the mail must be delivered through storm or flood, or dead of night or well you get the idea The Mail man had to go to the Island. Soon it was time for his visit the postal carrier returned with his bags of mail, and supplies..

The Lighthouse keeper was not at the sand bar. No one watched the sea and when the tide touched the "get ready marker" No one was there to start counting down. So the postal carrier counted to himself "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1" pedaling his bicycle out between the waves as fast as he could. Just as he reached the island the waves came crashing in over the sandbar.

The mail man slowly climbed up the 113 circular lighthouse stairs to the top where the lighthouse keeper lived.

He was very exhausted as he climbed round and round up the stairs up to the top of the lighthouse. You’ll never guess what he saw in the kitchen? Of course the lighthouse keeper!

 

"What happened to you Mr. Cully? Are you OK? What was that awful scream I heard outside my room? Please you have to tell me what that scream was I have heard it twice and I am afraid!”

The mail man told the lighthouse keeper his whole story. He did not eat; he did not sit in the comfortable chair and he did not fall asleep He just told his story.

Samuel Cully looked very concerned.” I am sorry you are afraid it is hard spending the night at someplace new and a Light house is no exception.

 

What you heard and saw was the results of me doing my chores!"

“Your chores?” asked the mailman in disbelief.

 

“When you come to visit we always have fish because that is what you have on an island. I don’t want to be rude so I visit with you first after supper and when you go to bed I clean up. The kitchen is 113 steps away from the trash can so the fish bones are thrown out the window. “

 

“My flying Skeletons” said the mailman.

 

Correct. With seagulls you don’t need trash cans they love fish bones and their calls sound like they are claiming their meal.”

 

“Mine Mine” Yes I have heard them on my mail route.” The mail man was calming down relieved.

 

Cully continued “They also scream”Cully, Cully, Culllieeeee!”

 

The mail man now relieved asked “but after each time before the screaming stops I heard a ping Ponk,Ping Ponk, PING Ponk!!”

The dome of the light house makes a great echo chamber for those little white splats the Gulls leave behind their meal.

When their meal is done I have to clean the light house glass each time because Sea Gulls go everywhere especially on glass. It’s all part of the job.”

 

The mail man and Mr. Cully became great friends and kept visiting twice a year for many years after that enlightening day. The mail man though always brought Pizza from than on. And you guessed it no Anchovies.

 

Oh and for me I don’t hide under the covers anymore I tell a trusted friend or family member what my fears are. Once I do that it takes away the power from the scary stuff and I can go back to sleep.

 

The End

 

 

Take a moment and talk to your teacher, trusted friends, and family about what fear is to you.

 

Some times, for some people it is fun to be scared.

 

When is it fun for you to be scared?

 

When is it not fun for you?

 

How do you know what kind of SCARE would be fun for someone else?

 

What do you do when you are scared?

 

When someone tells you they are afraid: what do you tell them?

 

What are some other things you could do or say to help a friend who is scared?

 

 

©2005 Vernon L. Cox  Phone 207-899-9299