The Ghosts of Emmett Hill: Part 1 (Original Steemit Serial)

Part One

Emmett Hill was one of those places that had always seemed to have been there. It wasn't a suburb or a town so much as a unique location with it's own ecosystem. Well an energetic ecosystem, that is. It's not really a very large place. Emmett Hill is exactly what they called it; a hill. I know, they stuck with the obvious when it came to distributing names around here. But as for the Emmett bit, well legend has a lot to say about who this Emmett fellow was. 

We know he built a house. A grand big old house. Actually it wasn't old when he built it. That would have taken some doing. No, he had it built brand new, clever man that he was. That old trickster called Time is what created the old element of the house that Emmett built. And he had that house built on the top of a hill. It wasn't called Emmett Hill at that time, but the clever folks who lived in the surrounding areas came up with an idea. 

“Why don't we call that hill up there, you know, the one where that Emmett fellow lives, “Emmett Hill”?” said the cleverest member of the naming committee.

“Brilliant idea, however did you think of it!” replied his agreeable sidekick. Besides why waste time on names, when there were more pressing matters, like heading down to the pub for a pint, or three.

“Now that we've agreed on names for that oversized mound of dirt, what say we head to the pub. Commiteeing is thirsty work!” he was quick to follow up his agreement with the gist of his actual plan, in case any more naming business should rear its ugly head. And off to the pub they went. 

And so Emmett Hill became Emmett Hill, and that was really as complicated as it got. The hill was always there, Mother Nature saw to that bit. Emmett followed several million years later, built a big house, and in he moved. Overlooking the land around for miles, it stood as some sort of castle perched high for all to see. Except it didn't look anything like a castle. More like a Victorian mansion. They weren't building castles any more, not by the time Emmett got around to building his house. Seems castles had gone out of style several centuries earlier. Shame really, a castle would have looked quite imposing up there.

And so Emmett lived in that grand house, the one up on the hill. And he raised a family there. Conducted his business there. Grew old there. And eventually moved on to the Emmett Hill in the sky. 

Except he never moved on, and he never reached the sky. He stuck around. Why, no one really knows. I mean he died. His body was buried in the ground. Nothing unusual about Emmett's dying routine. Quite normal and respectable. He even had the big funeral. Family were there; wife, children, grand children. The towns folks all gathered as well. Emmett was a moneyed man. He employed many a towns folk. The love and affection for the man was genuine. 

So like I said, all very standard western style farewell process. Everyone else got on with their lives, and their business, and went about their daily lives once again. But not Emmett. The stubborn old man that he was refused to play by the book. He never moved on. He never left. He stuck around. Up at that grand house on Emmett Hill.

And that grand house on Emmett Hill eventually came to be known as the haunted old Emmett House. By this stage it really was starting to get old. It seems Emmett made his presence felt up there, quite literally. Eventually the family all grew up, moved on, went there separate ways, away from Emmett Hill. All that is except Emmett. He refused to leave. This was his house, and his domain.

Emmett would wander around his grand old house, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to accept the end of his reign at the top of the hill. One day he sat himself down, at the end of the long wooden table that ran the length of the dining room. Looking out at the table in front of him, with all the empty seats, he said to himself “I think I could use some company.” And having proclaimed his thoughts out into the world around him, decided it was time for a ghost nap, and off he went to rest he weary head.

When he awoke in the morning, he looked and saw what appeared to be an apparition standing at the foot of the bed. Having been startled, Emmett took a minute to settle himself.

“You scared the stuffing out of me. I'm the ghost here, I do the scaring, thank you very much!” Emmett said to the visitor.

“Oh, but I am a ghost too!” he replied, a little unsure as to where he actually was. “Where exactly am I?”

“You are in my domain, Emmett Hill,” Emmett was quick to assert his authority, “and I am very curious as to what you are doing here!”

“Me too. How do we find out?”

“I don't know that we can. I don't have a hotline to the rulers of the after world or any such thing.”

Emmett took his new friend for a wander around the house. Until it occurred to him, that even ghosts should conduct themselves with a sense of cordialness. 

“Excuse my rudeness, my name is Emmett. And what is yours?”

“I'm very pleased to meet you Emmett. My name is Simon.” 

Emmett continued to show Simon around the house, pointing out all the available rooms.

“Feel free to make one of these rooms your own.” Emmett reassured him.

And as Simon considered the size of the house, and all the empty rooms he saw, he asked “There are so many empty rooms, when are all the others arriving?”

To Be Continued.