New Brunswick Ghost Dance

By Maryanna Gabriel 

     “Ghosts dance on the edge of my vision.
They follow me, stalk me, then vanish when I take notice. 

I turn quickly when I see them flirting with daylight
in the corner of my eyes, but I am too slow.”
After River by Donna Milner

                                                                    

My Brother & I - Our Home In Moncton 1959

I must have missed something. The first language of New Brunswick appears to be French. Even the signage. You know when Tim Horton’s says “Toujour Frais” it is official. I found myself in a private campground relieved to be able to put my feet up and read. Although there was no one around me I felt as though I was being watched. I must have drifted off. When  I awoke darkness had fallen. With the clarity of perception one does not permit the day-time mind, I sensed I was either on or near, a graveyard. Something caught my eye.

Ooooooh. Little lights. Eerie. I rubbed my eyes. I rubbed my eyes again. Lots of lights. I saw I was surrounded by little fire flies. Somehow, after that I slept - the sounds of “poing” from some frog creature assailing my fraught senses. Gratefully I pulled out of there the next morning.

I Return 2014 

By the time I got to Shediac I felt better. I bought a lobster and turned my van southward and nosed into Moncton. Somehow I found our former house. It looked just the same. How remarkable. Even the trees were the same.

I stared up at the window of my old room as tears came to my eyes. Realizing it was just memories I was looking at there, I knew I would not see myself looking back. I walked in the blazing summer heat to my friend’s old house and then found the route to my old school. Mission accomplished.

My heart full, I drove out of Moncton, and feeling an inward anticipation, I headed toward the Confederation Bridge that is Prince Edward Island.

Waving For The Past: I Am Top Right - A Day With My Family In New Brunswick