Arvin’s Woman in White by Alyssa Charles of Bakersfield, CA

 Arvin’s Woman in White

by Alyssa Charles 

Bakersfield, CA

“EEEEKKKK” his car came to a halt. His car brakes were locked mere inches from her thin, frail stomach.

My softball teammates and I listened in anticipation. I had heard this story a million times throughout my childhood, but it still gave me goosebumps every time I thought about it. When it came to telling ghost stories, legends, and experiences, this was always my go to story. I was just glad my dad was there to tell my friends. Ghosts aren't anything new to him. His mom was very religious and would claim they’re just lost souls that need to be prayed for, but yet he always seemed to bump into them. He grew up in an old house waking up to footsteps and seeing figures in his room, but this experience was different. We all gathered around him in the now empty hotel restaurant. He was going to tell us his hometown story while on vacation for our softball tournament in Colorado. Our games for the next couple days were cancelled due to the heavy Colorado rain and lightning. We could hear the pounding of the rain against the window and the thunder from time to time, which just made our scary story time just that much more eerie.

He had spent the evening with his friend in Arvin. He was from Bakersfield, but had a lot of family and friends in Arvin. He would go to Arvin pretty often; it was a short 20-30 minute drive from his home in Bakersfield. He left his friend’s house around 11 p.m, and she told him to page her when he got home. He was driving the empty roads back to Bakersfield. Bakersfield is in the heart of the Central Valley of California filled with agriculture. The road back home was a two lane road through the fields and orchards. He just turned 16 and didn’t have his license yet.

He was driving his dad’s car and humming to the music. He was on Comanche Drive approaching Sunset Boulevard when a woman appeared in the road. He didn’t have much time to react, but slammed on the brakes and hoped for the best. She stood there in a dingy white dress, as pale as her skin.

Her bright blue eyes looked down at the car inches from her, and then looked back up to him. His heart was beating so loud as he gazed at the front of his car thinking about how close he was to hitting her. He didn’t even realize she made her way to his passenger window. She tapped on the window with her long nails and withered hands. She wasn’t young, but she wasn’t old either. She kind of reminded him of a friend’s mother. He reached over and used the crank to roll down the window. Her skin was so white and her eyes so blue, but when she spoke it was clear Spanish.

“Can I get a ride home?” she questioned softly in Spanish.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you a ride home. I was supposed to be home over an hour ago,” my dad said to her thinking about how his mom was already going to be mad at him when he got home.

“Please, I really need a ride and you’re already here,” she was beginning to sound more desperate.

“Ma’am I am really sorry, but I don’t even have my license. I am not allowed on the road, and if I got caught my dad would find out and kill me. I really have to get home,” he stayed committed to not giving her a ride. He just left Arvin and he didn’t know where she needed a ride back to. He began to wonder if he should just hit the gas and ditch her.

“I said I need a ride,” she interrupted his thoughts and opened the passenger door, which he thought was locked. It was as if knowing he was thinking about leaving her.

She led him through the roads and had him pull up to a house. The house had a long dirt pathway in and had some big trees outside. He noticed none of the lights were on in the house. Everything was dark, but his headlights were pointed directly at the front porch. There was no fence to separate the back and front yard, which wasn’t unusual for houses out near the fields. She turned to him and said “wait here.” She got out of the car. She left her purse on the seat and left the car door wide open. It was nearly summer, and nights were pretty warm. He felt a slight breeze as she got out and walked up to the house. Instead of going up the porch and to the front door, she peered in a window and slowly walked around the house twice as if she wanted to check if everything was okay with it. My dad sat in the car looking around hoping someone would come out and invite her in. Instead, she came walking back to the car holding her dress so it wouldn’t get covered in dirt.

She hopped back into the car and said, “Reverse and take me to the next house. They’re not here.”

He didn’t know who she was talking about and he didn’t care. He already spent about twenty minutes in the car with her by the time they got to the next house. The whole time they were both silent. He wanted to drop her off and get home already. The next house was similar without so many trees. There weren't really any neighbors nearby because people usually owned a piece of land over there. Again, she demanded, “Wait here.” She opened the door and pulled herself out of the car. She left the door wide open with her purse on the seat to prevent him from leaving. She walked directly towards the back of the house.

Once she turned the corner, he grabbed her purse and threw it out on the floor. This house didn’t really have a long driveway, but more of a dirt lot it was sitting on. He jerked his wheel and hit the gas. The passenger door wasn’t open as wide as the first house and shut when he took

off. He sped home tired and hoping he wouldn’t get pulled over. He finally reached his house and luckily both his parents were asleep in bed. He was exhausted but glad to be home. He paged his friend that he made it home and fell asleep.

The next morning before breakfast his friend called him and asked what took him so long to page her. She fell asleep waiting for him to page her, but she didn’t get it until almost 4 a.m. He thought she was wrong because there was no way he could have spent more than an hour driving the lady home. He went to the kitchen to join his parents for breakfast. His dad hadn’t come out to eat yet, and his mom was setting the table.

“Why were you out so late? I heard you come in early this morning. I hope you have a good reason,” she questioned sternly.

“Sorry, I was on my way home, and some lady needed a ride home. She wanted me to go to different places, and I guess I lost track of time.” he answered hoping not to be punished.

Her demeanor changed, “Please tell me you didn’t drive her around. What street did you pick her up on? Wait until your dad hears about this.”

“I picked her up on Comanche near Sunset.” he said as his dad came walking in. His dad, my grandpa, was a cop in Arvin for a long time. He’d often work the night shift patrolling Arvin and its outskirts.

“Tell your father what you did last night,” his mom demanded.

His dad prepared himself to hear about a fight or scratch on the car, but not what he was about to hear. He told his dad the whole story from her getting in the car, her walking around the houses, and him leaving her near Arvin.

“Son, I can’t believe you picked her up. Many years ago a woman passed away in a car accident on her way home. People say the Woman in White waits there asking for rides home in

the middle of the night. She has them drive around to different homes she’s lived in until disappearing and leaving her purse. When we work night shifts near there, we tuck our head and hit the gas when driving through that street. I’ve heard stories, but I just tucked my head and hoped they weren’t true. I guess I am glad I never had to look up and face that situation,” he said.

The next day after his highschool baseball game, he told his friends the story and what his dad said about it. They didn’t believe his story. He remembered how to get to the houses she had him go to. Before sunset all four of them headed over to the first house. When he pulled up he was confused.

“I know for sure this is the house. The trees and porch are all the same, but it did not look like this,” he defended the property. The other night the house looked normal like people lived there, but now the house was all boarded up and abandoned. There was no way to look into the windows, and the porch had some broken wood sticking up. He explained to them what it looked like the other night. They just stared at the house waiting for something to happen.

Vinny, one of the guys in the car, began to point and stutter, “Is- Is- that...” He didn’t even get a chance to finish the boys reversed out of the driveway as fast as they could.

** *
We all started asking what his friend Vinny saw. He didn’t know exactly what Vinny saw

because they refused to talk about it anymore. Some others said they had heard similar stories around the same area of people giving the Woman in White a ride. I was always too scared to look up a ghost website and read about them, but my skeptical teammate claimed she found it online with eight other encounters. Again, we refused to look more into it. The story was enough for us. My dad always stayed true to the statement, “I don’t care what anyone thinks I saw or

what happened that night, the woman I saw was 100% real. I have seen some things that made me question myself, but I have never been so sure of that night and what I saw.”

** *
Years later, I was driving into Bakersfield alone. As a joke to my friends who have heard

the story I’d always say “here’s Comanche.” I was driving alone so I didn’t say it, but I thought about it. The music suddenly cut out, and I hit the gas and tucked my head. I decided to not drive around late at night alone anymore. I definitely promised myself never to pick anyone up either.