I Dug Up A Baby

When I was about two or three my parents moved into an old farm house that was just over a century old. The house had a good sized backyard, which was great for playing in. I would often sit in the yard with my little bucket and shovel, pretending to look for dinosaur bones or other such treasures.

One day when I was around four, I looked up from my digging to see a pretty lady in a worn blue dress standing about a yard away. Being a naïve child, I figured this lady was a friendly neighbor and asked if she wanted to play with me. Though she did not answer me, the woman solemnly pointed to a spot on the ground three feet to my left. Figuring this to be some sort of new game, I dutifully moved to that spot and began to dig.

Month after month, the lady would periodically visit me, and we would play our game, with me digging holes all around the yard. After about five months of her appearing to me, the lady pointed out a spot near the old well in our yard. The stone structure had been around as long as the farmhouse, and had been boarded long before my parents bought the place. Approaching the well, I knelt in the spot the woman had pointed to, just a handful of steps away. Like all the other times I began to dig with my little plastic shovel.

I was a determined little kid, and so was unperturbed when the dirt began to pile up. About two feet down, a stark white object began to appear. Excited that I was finally about to unearth that dinosaur bone I had long been searching for, I began to dig faster. Soon a pile of white was revealed, and I wasted little time in pulling out one of the small, lightweight objects.

Turning with a smile to show my finding to my friend in the blue dress, I was disappointed to see she had left again. My disappointment was short lived however, as my mother took that moment to exit the house, no doubt coming to call me in for lunch. With my prize in hand, I rushed over to my mother and proudly showed her the white bone. “Look ma, I found a dinosaur!” I had shouted at her. Her face went from smiling to sporting a horrified expression in a matter of seconds. She let out a scream and knocked the object from my hand, pulling me quickly inside the house. I guess someone must have called the police, because men in uniforms soon came to rope off the backyard.

For the longest time I never knew what all the fuss was about, and why the police officers had to take my dinosaur bones away. Immediately after that incident, my family moved to a new house in the middle of nowhere, a couple of states away, and the event was eventually forgotten in my mind. It wasn’t until later in life when I stumbled across an article on the house that I truly understood the events of that day.

The article stated that the house had been converted into a restaurant, and that the establishment was known to be haunted by a ghost named Elizabeth. Apparently, the original owners of the farmhouse were a sailor named Daniel and his young wife Elizabeth. Historical accounts say that Daniel went to sea on a voyage that was to last several months. As three months passed, then four, then five, Elizabeth began to become lonelier and lonelier. Sure that her husband had died at sea, Elizabeth gave into her loneliness and had an affair with a young farmer that lived nearby. Just over a year and a half since he’d left, Daniel returned home from his extended voyage to find Elizabeth had had a child.

Knowing the child couldn’t possibly be his, Daniel went into a murderous rage. Fearing for her life and the life of her child, Elizabeth tried to flee, but only managed to make it as far as the well in the backyard. Ripping the child from her arms, Daniel roughly flung the babe to the ground, immediately silencing its cries. Elizabeth fared little better, and found herself backed up against the stone well. Shaking her roughly, Daniel yelled and cursed at his unfaithful wife.

Whether intentionally or not, Daniel roughly shoved Elizabeth, causing her to fall backwards into the dark depths of the well, where she met her watery end. Afraid of being convicted of murder, Daniel dug a shallow grave for the child, and boarded up the well. According to the restaurant workers, Elizabeth to this day still roams the grounds looking for her baby. Having read that article, I broke out in a cold sweat with the realization that those “dinosaur” bones I had once dug up, were probably in reality the bones of that poor, murdered child. And that woman who was my playmate – looking back I realize now that her dress was a little too worn, and her face a little too pale.

But I don’t know why, if I found her child that day, Elizabeth still wanders around. Perhaps it is because the police still have those bones in evidence, locked up far away from its mother. Or perhaps it is because the bones do not belong to Elizabeth’s baby.

Did I mention I had a younger sister that went missing?