Return to BalladsA Family Treasure I was only five when I first heard the ghost getting water from our backyard well; The steady rhythm of a muted squeak, drawing up that old bent metal pail. The haunting sound went on for years; it awakened me most every night. I would listen, afraid to close my eyes, until came the morning light. When I grew up and moved away, I left that old well ghost behind. I started my new life with the plan of a good night’s sleep on my mind. Mama had many lovely things; she gave some of them to me. The best thing was her old iron bed, which was passed down in our family. My wedding night, I could not wait to sleep peacefully in my treasured bed. But, in the middle of lovemaking I heard an old familiar sound instead. My husband wondered why I laughed so hard, until I finally said: “That ghost, which tortured me for years, was the squeaking of Mama’s iron bed.” Shirley Alexander © 2006
