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Conversation with a Ghost

In a haunted hotel?

By Robert TaylorPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
7
In a Haunted Hotel?

Conversation with a Ghost

T he RMS Titanic sank in the early morning of 15 April 1912 in the North Atlantic Ocean, four days into the ship's maiden voyage from Southampton to New York City. The largest ocean liner in service at the time, Titanic had an estimated 2,224 people on board when she struck an iceberg at around 23:40 (ship's time) on Sunday, 14 April 1912. Her sinking two hours and forty minutes later at 02:20 (ship's time; 05:18 GMT) on Monday, 15 April, resulted in the deaths of more than 1,500 people, making it one of the deadliest peacetime marine disasters in history. (Wikipedia)

Charles Melville Hays was the president of the Grand Trunk Railway of Canada. He had travelled to England to secure financing for the construction of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway (a subsidiary of the Grand Trunk Railway). He and his family were aboard the Titanic He was returning to Canada for the planned opening of the Chateau Laurier hotel (a Grand Trunk property) in Ottawa on April 25, 1912. He helped his wife and daughter into a lifeboat, but expecting a rescue ship to arrive before the Titanic sank, had returned to his cabin to gather belongings. Along with his son-in-law and a secretary, Charles Melville Hays died that day and never did make it back to Ottawa for the opening of the Chateau Laurier Hotel.

However, if you are a guest of the hotel, now the Fairmont Chateau Laurier, there is a chance that you might still see Mr. Hays wandering the halls at night. According to some guests who have seen his ghost, he appears to be quite unhappy about something and has been known to go about slamming open doors and breaking various things his ghostly hands are able to get hold of. According to reports, he has been doing this for quite some time. Mr. Hays was always a go-getter – a businessman who got things done and not on a small scale either. The Grand Trunk Railway was no small feat. One can only presume that his anger is related to his inability to get one or more things done because of his untimely death aboard the Titanic. (Can you hear Celine Dionne singing plaintively in the background?).

Let’s see if we can listen in as his ghost goes about its nightly rounds in the hotel that he never saw completed. He was also about to start construction on the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway and of course, the opening of the Chateau Laurier – both massive new projects. Having to stop and drop everything because he had passed away must have been terribly inconvenient to say the least. No wonder he was upset. I would be, wouldn’t you?

Let’s you and I take a couple of rooms in the hotel (it wouldn’t be right to take one together, would it?) and see if Charles Melville Hays pays us a visit. Come knock on my door if he visits you first. Knock twice, once, then twice again so I know it is you. Good night, dear reader. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite! Then there I was…out like a light!

I awoke with a start. Is that a door creaking down the hallway? Quickly, with one eye open and without turning on the light, I opened the door and peered out. The bedside clock silently proclaimed that it was shortly after midnight…23 minutes to be exact. No one was to be seen outside my door.

I opened the door a little more, just enough for me to slip out, remembering to take my key with me. Ghosts don’t have to worry about that. They can slip right through doors, of course.

Either the lights were dim in the corridor or my eyes were only half awake, the last being a distinct possibility for I had been having a delightfully peaceful sleep where I heard the noise.

‘Are you a guest in the hotel, sir?” asked a voice in my head.

I looked around and, seeing no one, replied, “That I am, yes. Are you Charles Melville Hays, by chance?”

‘Indeed. How did you know that?’

“By your reputation, of course, sir.”

‘You are referring to my presidency of the Grand Trunk Railway of Canada, the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway, and overseeing the building of this glorious hotel I assume.’

“Well yes there is that of course, though it appears that you have developed quite a reputation for disrupting the sleep of some guests with some prowling about at night and disturbing their sleep in this hotel.”

‘Yes well, why don’t we go along to 809. It is vacant and we can chat in there rather than you standing out here in the corridor in your pyjamas, talking to yourself and looking like a right ninny, if you don’t mind me saying so. I’ll go in and open the door so you can come in, all right?’

I walked slowly down the hall and stood outside the door to 809. A second or two later, the door swung inward, apparently by itself, though I know better.

A light turned itself on. The voice in my head suggested that I sit on the sofa while I noticed the cushion of the side chair acquiring quite a dent.

“May I see you, Mr. Hays? I assume that you can see me.”

A ghostly image appeared, seated in the side chair. ‘Sorry, I have not been my full self since the mishap.’

“I’d say the sinking of the Titanic was a little more than a mishap.”

“Ah, so you know about that, do you? Yes, more than a mishap indeed. More than 1500 people perished including my son-in-law and my secretary, not to mention myself.’

‘I can’t imagine how that must have disrupted so many lives. It was incredibly tragic.”

‘Well, I can only speak for myself. I had a full schedule of meetings planned throughout the summer what with this hotel about to open and the beginning of what was going to be the future of travel throughout the western provinces. I had so much to do and my involvement in it all died the night that I did. I had so much to do. Luckily, I was able to see my wife and daughter into one of the lifeboats but I chose to stay behind and await the rescue ship that was due in the morning.

‘Unfortunately, we sank within a couple of hours and all remaining lives were lost before the rescue ship could arrive. I have no doubt that it was steaming full throttle towards us but seas can always be treacherous and that bloody iceberg was mostly underwater and freeform so you had to be extra careful.

‘Do you know that in all the years since that horrendous night, this is the first time I have had the chance to talk to anyone about it? Who are you anyway and how did you know where to find me?’

“Oh, I am a writer, Mr. Hays. A writer who looks for unusual stories to write about. You do have a ghostly reputation within the hotel here of slamming doors and frightening guests.”

‘So I gather. I don’t mean to do that but even after all these years, I still get very frustrated that all my plans had to come to an end that watery night. I had so much I planned on doing. This grand hotel turned out to be a glorious masterpiece, I must say but the railroad is another matter. Oh, I am still exasperated, annoyed, and fit to be tied.’

The ghostly image in the chair opposite the couch was getting a reddish tinge to it. I know very little about ghostly images but I suppose emotions do have projectable colours, even ghostly ones.

‘After more than 100 years, I was slowly beginning to realize that there was nothing that I could do about any of it. After all, I was deceased. I was coming around to letting it all just become water under the bridge, though in this case that might not be the best adage to use.’

“If I may say so, you still seem to be quite infuriated with something, Mr. Hays. Has something happened to forestall letting go of your frustrations?”

‘Oh, it irks me just to think about what is happening now. Perhaps talking about it might do something though I can’t thing what that might be other than more frustration and door slamming. Have you seen what they want to do to my hotel?’

“You are referring to the extension that is planned, is that right?”

‘Yes, I am. I certainly understand the need for expansion but have you seen what the proposed new wing will look like? It is the ugliest thing I have seen in years. It looks like a square wart on the nose of a beautiful lady! How can anyone think that what they have planned will enhance the beauty of the building? If I wasn’t already dead, that alone would be enough to give me a coronary!

I try to understand progress and I have to tell you that there have been many, many amazing improvements, inventions and innovations in the 100 plus years that I have been gone. Air travel, space exploration, automobiles, computers, telephones. There have been amazing displays of ingenuity in every generation. But this monstrosity is not one of them. Tell me if I am wrong?’

“It is supposed to be a modern interpretation of functional style.”

‘Bull droppings! A block is a block and a blockhead is a blockhead. What they need is something that takes the existing elegant style of the building into account and enhances its beauty. What they are suggesting looks like something that fell off the back end of a container ship and should be sent down to the bottom of the nearest deep waterway like the Titanic! Putting a wart on a beautiful nose is not doing it.

‘There is an expression ‘thinking outside of the box.’ How many times have they tried to ‘reinterpret’ this new addition? What have they come up with each time? A new box! Lord almighty…a rose is always a rose and a box is always a box. Whoever is designing it needs to be put in a box and shot out into space. You can do that now, I believe. A 7 year-old kid could come up with a better design.’

Just then, after a discreet knock, the door opened and a voice said, “Hotel security, Sir. Is this your room?”

Thinking quickly, I said, “I think so. Isn’t it 805?”

“No, this is 809, sir. Your room is down the hall.”

“Oh, I am sorry. I do apologize.” I stood up, winked at the side chair and wandered off back to my room.

A voice in my head said, ‘Nice chatting with you, Mr. Writer. I actually feel better now having gotten all that of my chest. Oh, and you can tell those blockheads who are going to make the decision about the extension on the hotel that Charles Melville Hays thinks the present design is sheer lunacy and that if they go ahead with it, the hotel can look forward to another 100 years of door slamming in the new wing by the original builder of this fine property!’

Hope I didn’t wake you as I walked by.

********

©2021 Robert W. F. Taylor

This is the second story in my book of short stories called ‘Where is Jacob’ and Other Haunting Tales’. It is available on Amazon in paperback of Kindle editions. ASIN # 1687015864

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