Posts Tagged ‘ghosts’

If ghosts can walk through walls, why do they go bump in the night?

Friday, March 26th, 2010

By Tiber 

I love anything to do with ghosts.  And though I’m aware of all the supernatural occurrences, witnessed either by me or others, here in my parents’ house, I still have yet to come upon a full-body apparition. And a full-body apparition is what I want to see. It would be the Holy Grail of the paranormal.

Of course, not everyone might feel the same way.

We had a guest staying here last night and she had her own ghost experience first-hand. She had been given a bedroom that hadn’t been used in awhile and, in the middle of the night, she woke up and saw it – a dim, white apparition, wavering in the shadows on the far side of her room.

After a moment, the shimmering thing started floating, right towards her bed. And, to the woman’s horror, she felt something clammy brush against her feet, turning them both ice cold.

The guest dived under the covers so she wouldn’t see any more.  But then she felt the mattress vibrate. as if the ghost had actually sat down, almost right up against her, in the dark.

Was the thing conscious of her presence or not? Was it angered by her being in this bed or in this room?

The woman became too paralyzed with fear to make a run for it. All she could do was continue to hide until she finally got up enough courage to just peek out. By the time she did, the specter had vanished.

Even then, our guest was too terrified to scream, she was too terrified to move and since we just found out that Brunty, the butler, has started sleep-walking, we’re all too terrified to tell her.

Lights out, ghost in

Monday, February 8th, 2010

 

By Tiber

The storm came in and our power went out. You really don’t want to be in a house this big when the lights go off. We stumbled around and finally met up in Dad’s study.

The triplets fell asleep and then somebody had the brilliant idea to play “Truth or Dare” to pass the time. Note to the wise. Do not play “Truth or Dare” with your family. While funny or titillating with your friends, “Truth or Dare” with your family just becomes a litany of “Wo!” “Eeeeeeeeeew,” or “Oh, dear God, please don’t say any more or I’m going to hurl.”

Then, suddenly, the lights flickered on for a moment, and the little elevator by the main stairs was heard starting up on its own. Somebody said it was our house ghost, coming down to get us. But Duncan thought it might be going up.

“Why would it be leaving?”

“Have you been listening to our conversation for the past half hour?!?”

So the talk turned to our finding the little pirate treasure chest hidden in the house this week, with the human hand bones in front of it. Dad has decided that the chest probably didn’t belong to a relative or even to a female pirate after all, as he’d thought. It must have come from an earlier time from when the house was built in the 1860’s.

So why had people kept on moving the chest and hiding it in safe places instead of selling the contents themselves? Erin said maybe they were afraid of the ghost of the original pirate owner. It would then make sense that our house ghost was that original pirate, still attached to his treasure.

Plus, Mom reminded us that when the ghost hunters came here, they picked up on tape an unknown voice saying the word “accordion” and those little accordions used to be played onboard sailing ships.

Duncan put it all together.

“So our pirate ghost was the one who sliced off the hand of the one dude who tried to take his treasure!  Hey, Dad, remember when the ghost hunters said they’d heard the word “accordion” and you said you were damned if you were going to buy anybody an accordion, living or dead!”

Dad leaped in.

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I didn’t!!! I told the ghost I’d buy it anything it wanted! Accordion, keyboards, a trumpet-”

“No, you didn-”

Even in the dark, you could hear Dad going after Duncan to shut him up before the ghost heard any more. Nobody felt like going back upstairs then.

In the morning, Mrs. Brunty, the housekeeper, found us all, still in Dad’s study, asleep on the sofa, the chairs, the floor. She said we looked like a sweet litter of puppies.

Seriously? “A sweet litter of puppies?!?”
I’m not surprised about the dog part. That we have been called. I was just surprised that anybody would ever call us sweet.

Chauncey, the handyman

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

 

By Tiber

We’ve had so much bad weather, somebody finally had to go up and check the attic rooms for leaks. We’re all so far away, down here on the other floors, it could get really bad before anyone knew it.

Dad couldn’t convince any of us to go up there, though, and he certainly wasn’t heading up there himself. We’ve all known about that unknown old woman in the attic since Mom first saw her awhile ago. Then Mom took up the New Year’s cookies and wine (hoping they would just sit there) and they were actually consumed. That’s made the old woman’s presence, wherever she is, a little too real for all of us.

So, despite wanting to save money, Dad had to call on Chauncey, the handyman. Yes, that‘s right. “Chauncey” is our handyman’s actual name. Evidently, with the film “Being There” coming out the year he was born and his mother in a movie mood, she decided to name him after the character, “Chauncey Gardiner.” Great film but, come on! “Star Trek: The Motion Picture” came out the same year so she could have just as soon gone with “James T.” instead of “Chauncey.” Hell, “Uhura” would have been better.

In any event, his name got him hired here. Mom heard about him and was worried that all of the “Spike” and “Moose” handymen were probably beating him up and stealing his jobs. And when he showed up and looked exactly like a “Chauncey,” we figured it might actually be true. But it turns out, he’s one strong guy. He’s like that glue in those tiny tubes, where you just can’t believe it can hold so much.

So Chauncey was dispatched up to the attic rooms to check for any water damage. He’s probably already heard that some people think our house is haunted. And nobody told him at all about the old woman.

It wasn’t long before he came down and headed right for the front door.

All he said as he left was, “No time. No leaks. No charge.”

Oh, he saw something up there, all right. The question is, which is worse? A staring, younger dead person or a crazy older live one?

The ghost hunters arrive

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

By Tiber

I’ve talked about my parents’ house before and it really is as alive as the people who live in it. Well, it’s as much alive as some of them. Being so big and so filled with history and emotion, people are always asking if it’s haunted.

Over the years, we have had some odd occurrences and then when our friends brought their baby over recently and he seemed to see something, Dad finally decided to call in a professional ghost hunting team.

They went all over, checking out our wing, the staff wing, the kitchen wing. And they did find some cold spots. The biggest cold spot was near the dining room, to which my idiot brother, Duncan, responded,

“Of course, my wife could have just walked through!”

After the team been told that sometimes the little elevator, by the main staircase, travels up all by itself, (though not when they were here, of course), the team said our ghost could be the trickster type, just trying to scare us by starting up the elevator motor. My sister, Iris Nell, became really indignant at that.

“Or maybe our poor ghost is just old. Do you have any idea how many stairs there are in this place?!?”

The ghost team gamely plowed on, finding their prime piece of evidence in the form of a good EVP (electronic voice phenomenon). A disembodied male voice seemed to say the word, “accordion.”

My father became so emotional, I was surprised that he’d be that afraid. But it turned out that wasn’t the case. Instead, he roared,

“I am not buying an accordion for anybody, living or dead!”

The ghost team said he could consider an exorcism. My father said if he ever heard anyone playing “Lady of Spain,” he’d consider a hitman.

My youngest sister, Erin, always guaranteed to be the most morbid of the group, came up with,

“Maybe one of our ancestors killed an accordionist and buried him somewhere in the house.”

Well, that cast a pall over everything. No one knew how to respond. It was my father, surprisingly, who finally gave in.

He said he wasn’t a completely unreasonable man and in time, he might consider at least buying the ghost a guitar.

This land is our land

Sunday, November 1st, 2009

By Tiber

Some family friends came by with their new baby and my sister, Erin, texted me about the visit from downstairs. As soon as the baby arrived here, he started to look all around. Then he’d stop and stare fixedly at things that weren’t there…Or were they? Our house does seem to be haunted so that could explain it.

The funny thing here, though, is that right after going all wide-eyed for a few moments, the kid would then instantly conk out asleep. His parents said he was just a good napper but we’re not so sure.

Erin said he reminded her of a canary in a coal mine. God knows my family can be the poison gas. Or does baby know something? Does something wicked – or just plain disgusting – this way come?

At least we can rest easily knowing that our house is not built on top of any sacred burial ground. Native Americans were in the area back in the 1800’s when our house was built. And when my ancestors were picking out the land to build on, they actually met with the tribal elders on this very spot to make sure that no burial ground had ever been here that we could possibly defile.

Evidently, the answer was a solid “no” because the Native Americans began backing up immediately and eyeing each other.

“Here?!? Seriously? You want to build on this land?!? No, no, it’s all yours! Really! You take it!…Uh…Good luck to you! Gotta run!”

To which our forefathers cheerfully responded,

“Well, that’s wonderful! Full speed ahead with our house construction then! And thanks for coming by! We love getting to know the locals!”

Ah, yes, my ancestors. Ahead of their time in harmony! Ahead of their time in unity! Way behind the curve in intelligence.