I meant to type "Boo!" Bii. Who annoys her own self? What migraine meds making me loopy? Bii. Were you terrified when I said bii? Did I startle you?
Anyway, I am at lunch, speaking of scaring people–and by people you know I mean Tee, the nervousist Nellie there ever was. I figured since it was Halloween I would tell you my I-lived-with-a-ghost story from my childhood. Since you know everything there is to know about my facial hair, digestive upsets, brain tumors and hippie parents, I cannot believe I have yet to touch on the subject of the scary ghost house I lived in.
This story is true, and if you have to be alone tonight I am telling you what, go out and pick you up a hitchhiker to come stay with you, cause you will be better off. It is creepy.
And you know what? It wasn't that creepy at the time. I think like many things in life, it is only later, when you get perspective, you look back and say, how in the world did I just put up with all that? You know, like we all did with AM radio, Hummel figurines and tall bangs.
Okay, so when I was 12 my parents got divorced and my mother and I moved in with my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Leo. And by the way, I HEARTILY recommend going through a parental divorce right when you're 12. Cause you feel so comfy anyway. Certainly no major changes are ALREADY going on. Although I don't know who I'm kidding. When I was 12, I looked like Flat Stanley.
At any rate, Aunt Kathy and Uncle Leo lived in a big, old house, in which some guy named Monsignor Forbes' father had lived and died. I do not know what a monsignor is, other than I know it's an important person in the Catholic church, right? My entire family is kicking my arse till Tuesday right now, as they are all Catholic and I am not and they are all looking for my pitchfork and horns. I'm SORRY.
So, we move in. There is no shower in the one bathroom, only a bathtub. My mother mentioned that when she bent over the tub to wash her hair, she always felt a little creeped out, like someone was watching her.
We had a guest over, and she went upstairs to go to the bathroom, and she RAN back down. She said, "I didn't even finish going. I had to get out of that bathroom. It creeped me out."
One day, my aunt was having a party. She put a new bars of soap out in the bathroom. She was the only person home, yet minutes later, the bar had been used.
But this was not the ghost of toilets past, oh no. My aunt and I were downstairs one day, she was in the kitchen and I was in the living room. I could hear her talking, and she came into the living room and said, "What did you want?" I said, "What do you mean? I heard you talking to me."
Neither one of us had been talking.
My aunt and uncle were in bed one night and heard women talking downstairs, as well. My uncle went down to investigate, and of course found nothing. He went back upstairs, and minutes later, the huge light fixture in the kitchen crashed to the floor.
Then it got weirder.
My aunt came home with groceries one day, and over the top of the bag, she saw my uncle. He said hi, then turned around and left the room. She was annoyed that he didn't help, so she set down the groceries and followed him, but guess what? He was upstairs in the bathtub. He hadn't been downstairs at all.
Another time, my grandmother called in a snit. She said, "Leo, what is wrong with you? I was knocking and knocking on the door and there you were, clear as day, just standing in the middle of the living room, not answering the door."
He hadn't been home.
I was home one day with an ear infection and I went to the kitchen for something, and I just saw a man slip past the kitchen door and go down the basement steps. All I saw were his green work pants. I was too scared to look further, but he certainly couldn't be heard walking down the steps.
Then one night, my aunt woke up, and someone was holding her hand. It was a man's hand, and it had callouses, like a man who had done a lot of work. A few times, Aunt Kathy's bed and dresser would shake.
Aunt Kathy finally went to Monsignor Forbes and asked him to bless the house, but for whatever reason, he didn't do it.
Then, the biggest thing of all happened.
Everyone was at my aunt's house to celebrate her birthday, including my charming, well-endowed, 12-year-old self. I had a friend over, and we were upstairs off the master bedroom, on a balcony that looked out over the back yard.
The railing, which my uncle had been balancing on the day before to paint the house, completely gave way, and I fell off the balcony.
I really know how to dampen a party. I broke both my wrists, ruptured my spleen, and basically made the day all about me. I'm not saying a ghost pushed me off a balcony, but it was a little odd.
My mother and I moved out of that house and got our own place, but other things happened there, including my cousin, who was a toddler, coming downstairs announcing that she had just been playing with "that man who's always upstairs." And you know what? Eventually Monsignor Forbes did come over and bless the house right before my aunt and uncle moved somewhere normal.
Years later they went to a rummage sale back at that house, and they spoke to the new owners, "I know this seems like a weird question, but has anything…odd ever happened here?"
"No," the new owners said. "Not a thing."