The Grape Farm Spectre
“So, a ghost you say?”
“I’m not saying it’s a ghost. But that’s what the villagers believe. It’s probably just a jackal or some local kids stealing grapes.”
Sannith was walking slowly between the rows of grape plants, chatting on the phone with Brian, his friend from work.
“I told them it’s probably nothing, but I already promised to help, so here I am.” Sannith looked up. The sun had just sat behind the hills. The moon was still pale and the stars were just starting to show up one by one, shimmering like tiny pieces of glitter in the sky. He had a flashlight with him, however, he didn’t need it yet. According to the eye witnesses, the so-called “ghost” was not expected to show up until later at night. Sannith was aiming to be there before “it” shows up to catch “it” off guard.
“Alright,” Brian said, “just be careful. If it’s really wildlife or thieves, it would be better if you notified the authorities.”
Sannith sighed without answering. He already knew that. In fact, it was exactly what he was planning to do. He was really worried at first when his father called him and said there was an emergency back home. He got even more concerned when his father said he cannot talk about the nature of the problem over the phone. At least he was able to confirm that both his parents and their loved ones were okay. And yet, he could feel the urgency of the situation. Without thinking twice, he packed up and flew back to India. He didn’t even have time to call his boss and explain the situation, leaving Brian to do it instead.
Fortunately, Brian notified him that it went well and the company wished him and his family well and awaited his return.
While on the plane, Sannith imagined all sorts of possible scenarios. What could possibly go wrong? Is the grape field infested with insects or fungi? Are there aggressive competitors? What could possibly prevent his family from explaining the situation over the phone? The answer became clear shortly after he arrived home from the airport.
His parents and other family members, as well as, to his surprise, the village elders, were gathered at his family’s house. They told him how the workers at his family’s grape fields became frightened when they started seeing a ghost in the fields after dark. When the first sighting was reported by a worker, no one believed him. They assumed he was drunk or simply fell asleep in the field and had a nightmare.
Soon, however, more and more people began reporting the translucent, white apparition roaming the fields. Until one night Sannith’s father himself stayed in the field overnight in order to get to the bottom of the mystery. To his horror, he encountered the vicious spirit face to face. Sannith felt bad for his father. Regardless of what he actually saw in that field, Sannith could tell that the man was profoundly affected by the experience. Several days have passed since his unfortunate encounter, and yet his hands were shaking while he was recounting the story.
The reason why Sannith’s family were reluctant to talk about the ghost over the phone was simply out of concern that he might not believe them or take them seriously.
“I saw him rise from the ground between the trellises in the old part of the farm.” Sannith’s father recounted, “Blood froze in my veins as I stood there. I couldn’t move and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing in front of me. It was a spirit in the shape of a hunched, old man. He just hovered there at first, inches above the ground. And then he saw me. No, he turned and looked directly into my eyes, as though he already knew I was there.
He began to glide towards me. Slowly, at first, moving faster and faster as he came closer. I wanted to shout at him. Tell him to get away from my crops. But the words were stuck in my throat. I gathered my courage and stepped towards the phantom. I raised my fist and began to shake it in his direction. But he was unfazed. Even worse, he opened his mouth three times wider than a living being could, and rushed towards me! He screamed louder than any wild animal, as he reached his bony hands out to grab me. I shielded myself with my arms as I prepared for the clash. However, nothing happened. When I opened my eyes, the spirit was gone just as suddenly as he appeared.”
The elders were nodding along, their solemn gazes fixated on Sannith’s father as he was telling the story. Sannith even suspected it was all an elaborate prank at first. However, everyone in the room was dead serious. In fact, they looked desperate. They called Sannith to see if he could help them with the ghost problem, using the knowledge he acquired at Stanford. Of course, nothing in his engineering curriculum had prepared him for dealing with the paranormal. But he promised to do his best to solve the mystery.
“Sannith? Hey, Sannith, are you still there?” Brian was still on the phone.
“Sorry, I just spaced out.” Sannith explained. He walked into the field, confident that he was going to find a natural explanation for the strange phenomenon. But as the sky got darker and a chill wind descended from the hills, he felt increasingly less confident. “What were you saying?” He asked Brian as casually as possible.
“You… just…. Okay…?” Sannith could only hear fragments of what Brian was saying.
“Brian? Hello?” Sannith looked at his phone. No bars. It’s no wonder, out here in the countryside. He was surprised to have any mobile reception at all. He sighed again and placed the phone in his pocket.
He continued to walk, consumed by thoughts. As the shadows on the ground got longer, the vines on the trellises began to look like bony hands, reaching for Sannith’s collar, trying to grab his neck. He shook his head to ward off the disturbing image. What could it be? Sannith recalled stories he heard about hikers who would get lost in California’s vast national parks. Sometimes they would see swamp gas burning in the night and take them for ghosts or UFOs. In other instances people would find themselves hallucinating in poppy fields and seeing all sorts of bizarre images.
Yet, there were no swamps nearby and the only thing growing in his father’s fields were grapes. So what could be causing the strange visions? He turned a corner and continued to walk. He was now entering the older part of the field where the vegetation was thicker. His heart began to pump faster. This was the part of the field where the mysterious encounters were occurring. He stopped as a gust of wind blew through the vines around him. He realized as he stood there, that it was unnaturally quiet. The chirping of the insects had suddenly stopped. “Don’t be ridiculous now,” he told himself. “It’s just wind.” He continued walking towards the center of the old field.
The confidence he managed to muster was gone in an instant as he saw a glowing mist rising from the ground. Sannith stopped again. He felt a chill running up his spine as the hairs on the back of his head stood up. “It can’t be!” A humanoid shape rose menacingly from beneath the wet soil. Gradually, it took the shape of an old man. Before he could think about his next move, Sannith found himself running. He heard blood-chilling howls closer and closer behind him. His world was turning upside down. “There is no way! Ghosts aren’t real! Ghosts aren’t real!” He gasped as he stumbled over a root and fell face first into the moist dirt. He quickly turned over. The ghostly figure was standing directly above him. His translucent robes were moving in the wind even though the grape leaves and vines around him were still. Sannith quickly got up. The ghost, in turn, opened his mouth and lifted his arms towards Sannith.
Sanniths first impulse was to scream and keep running or defend himself. However, he decided to stand his ground. “Who are you?! What do you want?!” He shouted in an embarrassingly high pitched voice! “Leave me alone!” He screamed, closing his eyes. When nothing happened after a few seconds, Sannith slowly opened one eye, then another. The white, glowing spectre was gone. In his place was standing a frail old man. He looked just as human as Sannith himself, studying him with his tired, sunken eyes.
“Don’t be afraid, young man.” The ghost spoke. He had the voice of an ordinary old man. No more ghostly howling. Sannith stood there with his mouth open. The ghostly man could see his shock. He smirked and introduced himself, “My name is Aahan. And I used to own these fields.” Aahan made a broad gesture with his thin, scrawny arm.
“I am Sannith.” The young man replied. “Have we… um… disturbed you with our presence?”
“Not at all.” Aahan said. “On the contrary. You are here to help me.” He turned around and gestured to Sannith to follow him deeper into the field, back towards the spot where Aahan first emerged from the ground.
“Back then, when I was still alive, I used to be a wealthy farmer.” Aahan began to tell his story. “But there were others wealthier than me. And greedier. I had the unfortunate idea that brought me to my demise. I realized that everyone in the area was growing table grapes. So I thought to myself, why not grow wine grapes and open a winery? The climate is perfect here. I was guaranteed to have the best wine in India! However, when the owner of a neighboring field heard about my plan, he got anxious and jealous. He couldn’t let me have my way. So, one night, he asked me to meet him in the field. He was very friendly and said he had a business proposal for me. Gullible as I was, I believed him and came.”
Sannith was walking along Aahan, listening attentively. The old man was not at all intimidating. Just sad and frail. Sannith even had an impulse to hold him by the elbow to help him walk. But Aahan stopped him with a gaze and smirked, “Don’t mind me, young man, I am already dead. Better keep listening.”
“So, what happened next?” Sannith asked.
“He snuck up on me. And stabbed me in the back.” Aahan said matter of factly. There was no pain in his voice. “And buried me.” He stopped and pointed at the ground. “Right on this spot. And since then I was cursed to rise from my grave and roam the fields every night until a kind soul would encounter me and offer help. Sannith stopped walking as he was struck by a realization. “Who are you? What do you want?” These were the words he said to the ghost. He offered to hear him out. His words prompted Aahan to turn from a vicious fantom into the mild old man that he truly was.
Aahan didn’t speak. He only smiled kindly and dissipated into the night’s misty air.
“Wow, what a story, my friend. I have to say. So there was no ghost but they found a body?”
“Indeed.” Sannith confirmed. He was talking to Brian while boarding the plane, en route back to the states. “They even made an arrest! The poor guy was murdered by a competitor.”
“You don’t say,” Brian replied. “And what about your folks? How are they doing?”
“They’re doing great now.” Sannith replied happily. “In fact, they decided to scale up their business.”
“Really? Do tell!”
Sannith buckled up, preparing for takeoff. “They decided to change things up a bit and open a winery.”
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