My mother was about 9 years old and she lived with her grandmother and three other grandchildren. All four grandchildren slept in the same bed, and lived on a hilly steep called Windy Hill, a small neighborhood of a major city in Puerto Rico. The time was about 1948-49.

As a child, my mother had to do certain chores, feed the chickens, wash dishes, floors and gather fruit for the pigs. On many occassions, she would go down to the main plantation, where most of her older relatives worked, to look for fruit that fell from trees. She would gather the same and place them in a pail, to be had later for the pigs. On one occassion, while under a Mango tree, my mother gathered fallen mangos. She heard a voice, but did ] not know from where it came nor from whom. The voice was of an old man, and he spoke in whispers, calling out to her "girl, girl, dig deeper, next to the tree". My mother became afraid and all of the sudden she was pulled down toward the base of the tree, and she heard the old man whisper "dig, dig, dig next to the tree." But, my mother gathered her strength and she pulled her self up, she felt the hem of her skirt pulled back down, and she became very scared, but could not yell. She could not scream. She tugged, and tugged, and pull her self away, ripping her dress, but she ran back to the house to tell her grandmother was happened. She was scolded for making an excuse not to gather fruit and sent to bed without supper.

During the night, while in the bed with her three other cousins, two boys and one girl, my mother was awoken by the whisper of the old man. He began to talk louder in her ear, and she felt the heat of his breadth, she became scared and screamed, awaking her cousins, who saw nothing and heard nothing. My mother cried loudly and begged her cousins to believe her, but they did not . Her grandmother and grandfather came in, the grandmother scolded her and threaten to place her in the main room, by herself, but her grandfather offered her consolation. He held on to her asked her what happened. Everyone else went to bed, and my mother told her grandfather the day's events.

He was astounded, showed an interest and then told her a story that did not ease her. He told her of the old man of the plantation, who was the grandfather of the present owner. She was told that he died without leaving his children any legacy other than the suger plantation. His children always looked for the money he allegedly had, but could not find it.

The next morning, my mother was sent out to gather fruit, over her objection and under the threat of a belt. She was afraid, but she had to go. She walked far from the mango tree, but had not filled the pail, so she wandered near the tree and came close enough to hear the old man whisper to her about digging under the tree. She was pulled backed down and this time forced onto the ground, her face dirty and the pail spilled over. Her nails dug into the soil, but she was'nt moving. She gathered her strenght to run up and back to the house. She told her family what happened, but no one believed her, except her grandfather.

He went back to the Mango tree and dug the area, but found nothing. My mother did not hear the old man again.... but she still gets chills when she tells this story.