When our 1840’s house lost power the exact moment I typed that the house in my novel lost power, I phoned Charley, whose business was probably no more than six blocks away from our house. I asked Charley if he still had electricity, because often the power went out all over the island.
He still had electricity.
This was before the days of portable telephones, so I couldn’t keep talking to him for reassurance unless I stayed in my study. I had the door from my study to the rest of the house closed to keep the heat in. I wasn’t thrilled about the possibility of walking through the silent house alone. I was slightly anxious about disconnecting from Charley’s voice.
Somehow I found the nerve to hang up the phone and open the door. Our two cats were asleep on the sofa in the TV room. That gave me great courage. I was sure that if there were a ghost around, the cats would be freaked out, hair standing up on their backs. I grabbed a sweater, raced down the stairs to the front door, and out of the house.
Outside, the morning was fresh and still. Fog rolled around, but outside it was not as oppressive. I walked into town, and hung out with Charley a while. When I returned home, I found all the electricity was on again. Later, I phoned the telephone company. I had to know why the electricity went out in our house and not throughout the area our house was in. They told me that a truck had hit the electric pole next to our house. So I was reassured.
Although a truck slamming into an electric pole hard enough to knock it sideways would have made a noise, and I hadn’t heard a noise.
My sister Martha, who has often been the inspiration for my books, loved the ghost in my book.
Jesse Orsa was the widow of a whaling ship captain. In my novel, Spirit Lost, the heroine, Willy, says, “This street, Orange Street, used to be called the captain’s lane during the whaling days. The wives of the captains of whaling vessels could look out from their widow’s walks to see if a ship was returning to harbor. . .Sometimes the husbands were gone for three or four years.”
Martha had a replica of Jesse Orsa made as a present for me. The doll looks exactly like Jesse Orsa. Her face is melancholy, and her fingernails are very long. . .because a person’s nails continue to grow after death. She’s a beautiful doll, old fashioned, wearing lacy knickers. But I don’t think I want to give her to my granddaughters.
