19. The Ghost Car - Paranormal activity in Greendale, Salisbury, Rhodesia

A terrifying ‘Paranormal Incident’ took place as Lea and I drove home to Greendale one evening. 

I was about fourteen at the time which would make Lea sixteen. Lea was driving our mum’s sandy-coloured Standard 8 - driving licences were issued to sixteen year olds in Rhodesia.

                                               Similar to mum's Standard 8

Before I continue with this terrifying tale I should point out that there were a couple of decidedly odd things about mum's Standard 8 - the epicentre of the paranormal activity. For starters it was haunted by the spirit of the previous owner, a young guy who had committed suicide in the car after being dumped by his girlfriend. He’d gassed himself with a length of hose pipe attached to the exhaust. The other oddity was the boot...bizarrely it didn't have one. I'm sure the British Standard Motor Company who produced the Standard 8 wouldn't agree. But what they would argue as being the boot wasn't something anyone else would recognize as one. If, for example, a bag of shopping was to be placed into what they erroneously called the ‘boot’ you couldn't just walk round to the back of the car, open it and place your shopping inside. Why? Because there was no access from the outside. It was solid. It didn't open. Instead you clambered into the rear of the car, folded down the back seat and shove the shopping into the space behind. No way is that a boot. Absolutely no way! 

The reason I'm banging on about the boot that wasn't, is because the space provided behind the back seat, only accessible from inside the car, was perfect for the sudden unexpected manifestation of the spirit of the guy who’d topped himself. Actually, I'd better come clean, there was no young guy.The story’s a load of baloney Lea and I had concocted.

So here's what happened. We had just turned off Jameson Avenue - one of the main roads in and out of Salisbury - onto Coronation Avenue and spotted a figure ‘thumbing’ a ride...we immediately recognised it as a friend of ours, a guy named Ian.

Lea and I  had one of those telepathic moments. He looked across at me, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

I nodded.

He smiled malevolently, “Let’s go for it”.

We had waiting for the right moment to execute our ‘Paranormal Activity’ practical joke...and this moment could not have been 'righter'. Not only was it getting dark and Coronation Avenue had no street lighting, but more importantly, in friend Ian we had the perfect victim. He was, in a word, gullible.

Lea slowed the car down to a walking pace, allowing me time to clamber in the back and squeeze into the space behind the seat...even after all these years I can't bring myself to call it a boot. Hidden from view I asked Lea if he had remembered put the skayfs (cigarettes) under the passenger seat. Cigarettes were crucial to the success of our scheme.

“Yeah, yeah. Just done it”, answered Lea. “Sssh, keep quiet. I’m stopping”.

The car pull off the tarmac road onto the gravel shoulder and stopped. From my hiding place I heard Lea call out, “Hey, is that you, Ian?” 

I thought the question was an inspired touch. 

Lea continued, “Do you want a lift?”

“Ja, man.  Thanks a span”. (Thanks a lot).

The car rocked slightly as Ian hopped in and settled in the front passenger seat.

“Yissus, man, I tell you I’ve been walking for bleedy miles and you’re the first okie to stop”.

“Then I’ve done us both a favour...I really don’t like driving by myself in this car...it gives me the creeps”.

              "How’s that?” questioned Ian.

 “Well..." As Lea pulled away he went to work, saying how he kept feeling there was a presence in the car. He recounted how the young guy, devastated at being dumped by his girlfriend had topped himself, etcetera, etcetera. 

Ian, suitably impressed by the story, or should I say suitably troubled, kept repeating, “Is it!” (‘is it’ is not a question it’s an exclamation – hence the exclamation mark)

Lea cranked up the story, “You won’t believe this, Ian, but just before I turned into Coronation Avenue I saw a misty, smoke-like stuff in the back of the car...”

“Is it!”

“...and it started taking on a human form”.

“Swear to God?”

“Swear to God. Then I saw you thumbing a lift and as I pulled over...it just seemed to melt away”.

“Is it!”

“Swear to God”.

Lea gave a cough, which was my cue. He said he had dropped a packet of skafs under the passenger seat and asked Ian if he could fish them out.

As Ian leaned forward I made my move. Quietly as humanly possible I folded the back-rest down, squeezed out the space and took up a position directly behind Ian.

Lea asked Ian to light him a skayf which he duly did, then started upping the anti. In a hushed tone Lea whispered, “Am I imagining it or has it suddenly turned cold?”

“You’re not imaging it, man”, murmured Ian in a low voice.

“You can feel it too?”

Ian nodded. “Dead right I can. It’s definitely turned cold”.

And it definitely had, which was hardly surprising seeing as Lea had opened the side window whilst Ian had been busy fishing the skayfs from under his seat.

“There’s a presence in the car, Ian. I can feel it. The feeling’s strong, really strong and it’s growing stronger”.

Before rock ‘n roll had taken over our lives Lea had won numerous amateur dramatics acting awards at various eisteddfods so when he put his mind to it he could be convincing...and on this particular evening he certainly had poor old Ian convinced. 

Suddenly Lea gripped the wheel and blurted out, “Show yourself to us, spirit. Show yourself!”

Ian stared at him nonplussed , “What are you saying...?! You crazy?!" he started pleading to the bogus entity, "Don't listen to him, man! Don’t show yourself. Pleaz! Don't show yourself!" 

Lea suddenly peered into the rear view mirror, did a double take worthy of Frankie Howard, and with a  trembling  voice, shouted, “It’s too late. He’s here! The okie...The okie who topped himself! He’s here! Look behind you!” 

Ian, gripped with terror, turned round. As he did so I leaned forward and as we came face to face I yelled, “Boo!” I know it’s corny but I couldn't think of anything else to say. 

Ian gave a stifled scream, opened the passenger door and jumped out...we must have been doing 40 mph at the time.

It took a couple of seconds for us to realize what Ian had done... then we absolutely shat ourselves. Shiiiiiit!!!! Because of our dumb ass practical joke we could have killed Ian. It was kind of ironic really. The ‘terrifiers’ had become the ‘terrified’. 

Lea hit the brakes and despite my protests turned the car round and drove back. He trained the headlights on the side of the road where he judged Ian had exited the car... I couldn't bear to look.

“Oh, my God”, whispered Lea after a moment.

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

“There’s no sign of him”, answered Lea.

I looked up at the stretch of road illuminated by the headlights. Lea was right. There was no sign of Ian anywhere. He had  vanished.

Lea stopped the car, got out and checked the immediate area.

“Ian! Ian, are you okay, man...? Ian, where the hell are you?”

A stubby bush replied, “Has it gone? The spook? Has it gone?”

Ian, covered in dirt and dry grass and to our relief, very much alive, appeared from behind the bush.

“Jesus, Ian, are you outta your mind. You could’ve killed yourself!” Lea berated the dusty figure. “Get back in the car, man”.

Ian stayed his ground and repeated the question. “Has the spook gone? Has it gone?”

“No”, said Lea. “The spook has not gone. It’s still in the car. But I think it may want to apologize to you”.

All of the above is true, except the friend could have been Alec and not Ian. I can’t remember which but it was most definitely one of them.