Marigold Goes A Visiting: Georgia Ghost Story
What does a missing cow have to do with ghosts? Find out in this Georgia ghost story written by Julie Ann Wallo.
It was an unusually warm day for late October in the foothills of Georgia. Windows that would normally be shut tight as a drum, were open wide to invite the flow of warm fall air in before Jack Frost made his arrival… That is how it began…
“Mr. McGillicuddy! Mr. McGillicuddy! Your cow is out! Your cow is out!”
“Marigold? I knew I hadn’t seen her in a spell. I figured she was down at the creek or over eating acorns under the old oak tree”, said Mr. McGillicuddy. “You know she’s gentle as a kitten, Earl. She wouldn’t harm a fly.
Which way did she go? I’ll go fetch her home. I wonder how she got out.” Mr. McGillicuddy scratched his bald head.
“Well, sir”, Earl began, “if you don’t mind me saying, your fence is about as rickety as that ole’ barn of yours…”
“EARL! I don’t need any sass from a young whipper snapper like you! That barn is as sturdy as the house I live in!
“Yes, sir. I’d have to agree with you about that, sir.” Earl looked around at the dangling shutters barely clinging to the side of the house. The house leaned to the left. He was sure not to visit on a windy day for fear the house would blow away.
“So, which way did Marigold go, Earl?”
“She’s at the house, Mr. McGillicuddy . I’ll help you get her home, but first I need to find Reverend Mathis and set up some kind of arrangements.”
“Yes, sirree. The Misses, she’s deader than
“Yes, sirree. Not a breath left in her, Mr. McGillicuddy.”
“Well, what happened, Earl?”
“Well, the wife’s been reading some of those danged ole’ scary books, the kind that keep you awake at night. And, ya’ know…she’s been a little hard of hearing since the termites ate the legs off the cupboard and all the cast iron skillets came crashing down like a mountain of rocks.” Earl answered.
“Yeah, yeah. But what does that have to do with anything, Earl? Sorry as I am about Mrs. Fletcher, I ain’t never heard of anyone passing away from a lack of hearing.”
“Oh, no sir. That’s not how it happened, sir.”
“Well, son, spit it out. What in the world happened?”
“Well, sir. You see…she was smack dab in the middle of one of those scary stories, the ones she gets from Mrs. Jones, that lives twenty-seven fence posts down towards the holler. The Misses, she
was all tied up in the words, gnawing on her fingernails, with her feet all drawn up in the chair. You know how them women folk get…”
“I recon I do. Yeah, so?”
Earl says, “And it’s been pert’ near warm for late October…”
“Yeah, Earl, go on…”
“So, she must have been at a really scary part, ya’ see. That’s when it happened. That cow of yours stuck her head in the window, and let out a long….slow….MOOOOOOOOO. Well, the wife, with her ears half cocked, done thought she’d run up on a ghost. When Marigold said, ‘MOOOOOOO’, the wife heard, ‘BOOOOOOOO’, and she killed right over like a fly smacked with a fly flapper!”
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