The Ghost of Centennial Garden

The Centennial Garden staff was getting ready to have their Halloween party in the Arena, but Claire had heard rumors that the Garden was haunted by the ghost of a hockey player killed by a misdirected puck. Claire wished she could just stay home. She hated ghosts.

The party started at 10 o'clock. Claire, as hostess, arrived at 9 and opened the back door to almost complete darkness. Mist rolled out of the Arena and across the floor, blue lights glimmered eerily and a sound like skate blades across ice reached her ears. Nervously adjusting her gypsy costume, Claire forced herself forward.

The ice was supposed to be covered with flooring but there, gliding through the low-lying mist, was a pale figure in hockey gear. Stunned, Claire walked slowly onto the ice. The figure turned to face her and she could see the deep, open gash under his left eye.

He glided toward her as she tried to convince herself it was a joke. As the ghostly hockey player neared, moaning rose from the stands. The figure halted and glanced about, puzzled.

It was too much for Claire. The ghostly player caught her as she fainted. He lifted her, turned and skated slowly into a thick wall of mist. Moments later, the moaning turned to laughter. Claire's coworkers stepped out of hiding and congratulated one another on the joke.

"Come back, Bill! You did great." they called.

"At what?" a voice asked.

Surprised, they turned to see a puzzled Bill at the entrance.

"I'm sorry I'm late - did someone else play the ghost?"

Faces pale, everyone turned back to the place where Claire and the hockey player had disappeared. They searched Centennial Garden but never saw either one of them again.


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This story was written as an entry for our local papers' "Scary Story Contest" that they used to hold at Halloween. This particular year, we had to use a well-known landmark in the area. I won 1st prize (not easy to do with only 200 words or less to play with).

Published in "The Bakersfield Californian" Sunday, Oct. 27, 2002