After a few weeks, business began to fall off. Carla and Christy began to worry that perhaps they had made a mistake. They had invested their savings in the restaurant and had nothing to fall back on if this venture failed. They considered cutting their losses and moving on. They could sell the restaurant and find jobs as cooks for other people.
One day after all the customers had gone, Carla and Christy sat down to discuss their future plans seriously and make a decision about what they should do next.
“We're just breaking even,” Christy said. “Do you think we should try to stick it out?”
“I'd like to stay,” said Carla. “I like working for myself. On the other hand, if we are going to go, it would be better to do it before we get into debt.”
“Right,” said Christy. “So what do we do? Do we go or do we stay?”
Just then, each woman felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Both heard a male voice whisper distinctly, “Stay!”
Somewhat taken aback by this unexpected advice, the ladies thought it might be a positive sign that things would get better soon. They decided right then and there that they would keep the restaurant open. They considered ways to make business better. They hired a singer and guitarist to play live music, and they implemented some smart advertising plans. The changes worked, and soon business was booming.
The ladies did some research on the previous owner and discovered that he, too, had once experienced doubts about staying in this location. He had decided to stay and had made a success of it.
The ladies still see signs that the late owner is there with them. They feel him standing behind them as they clean the floor, or they find silverware moved around in the kitchen. When this happens, they just smile and say a silent thanks for a business manager that they don't have to pay!
The Banshee
This story happened to neighbors and was retold often on stormy nights when the wind would shriek like a banshee.
The banshee is a ghost that often attaches itself to an Irish family, sometimes following that family to a new country when it moves from Ireland. The banshee appears outside the family's home and wails to let the people know of a coming death. There is much complicated folklore about the banshee and the roles it plays with families, but in the south-central part of Kentucky people connect it to a death warning only.
To encounter a banshee was certainly not an everyday occurrence, but a banshee probably came into the lives of two neighbors who lived along Damron's Creek.
It was a late spring day, and Logan Carter and his son, Clyde, were on their way home after hauling gravel all day. It was almost dark, and the woods along the road were already filling up with shadows. The old truck engine sputtered along, sounding almost as tired as Logan and Clyde felt. Clyde was thinking about the hot supper his mom, Lindy, would have ready. He could almost taste the beans, green onions, hot cornbread, and cold buttermilk. They drove past Dennis Sullivan's house and soon pulled into their own driveway. The younger Carter children were playing in the front yard.
Lindy was outside with her neighbor Maggie Sullivan, the youngest girl in the Sullivan household. They were talking and picking herbs from Lindy's garden just beyond the driveway.
“Just brew these herbs into a tea for your mother,” Lindy instructed the girl. “It should help her rest and feel better.”
“I hope the tea works,” said Maggie. “Momma's awful sick at her stomach. She can't keep anything down, and she hardly sleeps at all.”
“Tell her I'll bring her some chicken soup tomorrow,” said Lindy. “That usually stays down when nothing else will. It seems to give a person strength.”
Maggie opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by something from the woods that none of them had ever heard before. A sound cut through the warm spring air that chilled their bones. It was the combination of a wail and a scream—a keen, piercing shriek. It left all of them in stunned silence for a moment when it stopped. Then Clyde spoke up.
“What on earth was that?” he asked.
“Maybe a wildcat,” said his dad.
“It didn't sound like any wildcat I ever heard,” Clyde disagreed.
Maggie turned deathly pale, a look of realization spreading across her face.
“Oh, my Lord!” she said. “It was a banshee! It's come for Momma! I've got to get home. Momma's going to die!”
She started toward the woods, clutching her herbs tightly. Lindy stopped her.
“Wait, child,” she called. “You can't go into those woods by yourself! We don't know for sure what that was. It could have been an animal that would hurt you. Let Logan drive you home.”
Lindy accepted the ride. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she climbed into the truck beside Logan Carter.