The Cottage - Part 5

Considering the heightened activity around my daughters, I decided it was time to do a little ghost hunting.  I ordered a webcam with a microphone that had “moonlight” capability, which would allow me a good picture even in low light. I got it set up and running on my wireless network while the girls were at school, and decided to put it in Sarah’s room first.  

Thankfully both girls are little hoarders, so camouflaging it wasn’t an issue.  I got it connected to my laptop and set it up on motion detect, figuring it would make it easier to go through any footage that might be recorded.  It also had an alert system that would cause a little popup window in the corner if anything caused it to turn on, but I figured that since I had a big enough case of the willies already, I’d turn that off.  I decided to give it 24 hours, and check on it the next morning.  

I checked for files in the morning, and there was nothing.  Not sure whether to be angry or relieved, I moved the camera into Olivia’s room, and waited another 24 hours.  Once the time was up I dutifully checked for new files, and this time I found two.

The first one was short, just a few seconds.  It showed one of Olivia’s stuffed animals fall off her chest of drawers.  Curious, but nothing really earth shattering.  

But the next one was a different story.  It was about three minutes in length, and showed a misty form come together, and move back and forth across the room.  At one point, it even made its way towards the camera, as if peering into the lens, then backed off.  The form was vaguely human in that it had the shape of a head and shoulders, but there was no real body, just wisps that came down, and eventually trailed off.  I cranked up the contrast to see it better, but was unable to discern any facial features.  And turning up the volume yielded no sounds coming from it.  Eventually, it just faded away.

I sat back, just stunned.  I went up to her room, and looked around, trying to find something, anything, to explain what I’d just seen but there was nothing that could.  The fact that the spirit acknowledged the camera made me realize this was more than just a residual haunting…this spirit was active and aware.

Knowing that the camera was recording with me up there moving around, I let out a tentative, “Hello?  Is anyone here right now?”  I paused for a few minutes to give it time to reply if it chose.  I then asked the following series of questions, with pauses in between.

“Can you tell me why you’re here?”

“Is there anything that you want?”

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

I started to feel silly talking to the air, so I ended with the following, “I don’t mind you being here, and I’ll help you if I can.  But please, don’t scare my girls.”

I headed downstairs, and saw the file that had been created from my trip to Livvy’s bedroom.  I went to click on it, then hesitated.  I’ll admit, I had thoroughly spooked myself, and couldn’t bring myself to listen to the file just yet.  Instead I opted to go out and talk a brief walk to clear my head.

The brisk air felt wonderful and I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the wind as I walked, which is why I ended up bumping into my neighbor, Larry Durbin, who was out cleaning his yard.  We hadn’t talked much, just a few pleasantries here and there.  He was an older gentleman, about my father’s age, and a widower.  But he seemed to have a fairly cheerful demeanor for the most part.

I let out a “Whoops!” and a laugh, and apologized for being so clumsy.  He smiled, and took it in stride, and asked how our holidays had been.

“Oh, it was wonderful.  We had the whole family over, and it was so much fun.”

He nodded, “You had a full house for sure.  It was nice to see the place all decked out.  Good to have some life in it after being empty for so long.”

I felt a twinge of guilt for not inviting him over, so I changed the subject, “So, were you here when the…murders happened?”

“That I was.  It was a bad time for the neighborhood. Helen and her two kids were well thought of.  It was a terrible thing what happened to them.”  He looked off for a moment, almost wistfully, then turned and gave me a hard look.  “Are you having any problems over there, Anna?”

I looked at him, a bit surprised, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Sometimes a house holds on to things...especially unhappy ones.”

I narrowed my eyes a bit, “Why do you ask?”

Larry shrugged, “While the house was empty, I heard things. And people saw stuff…hell, I saw a few odd things myself.”

My voice caught in my throat a little as I asked, “What kinds of things?”

“Well, there was one time I was out here in the yard and looked over and saw some balls of light moving behind the blinds.  And knocking sounds coming from inside.”

“Could have just been some kids roaming around inside trying to scare themselves.”

He shrugged, “Possibly.  But another time, well, nevermind.  It wasn’t anything.”

I could see he looked troubled, as if he got carried away, and had begun to say more than he should.

“Larry, please tell me.”

He looked down at the ground, and shuffled a bit, then looked up at me. “It was real late.  I couldn’t sleep, and got up to go downstairs and get a snack.  I glanced over at the house, and saw a woman in the kitchen window looking over at me.  It must have been about 2:00 in the morning.”

“When was this?”

“About a month before Helen and her children were murdered.  Anyway, the woman was looking right at me.  Her face was calm, with no expression.  But then she just seemed to melt, and I was looking at this howling face with black eyes and a big gaping hole where the mouth should be.  Shook me right the hell up.  I started back, but when I looked again there was nothing there.”

I felt the hairs on my arm stand on end despite my fleece jacket, and rubbed my hands vigorously over them.  “Please tell me it was just moonlight and clouds on the window.”

“Could have been…could have been…and you know, you’re right.  It probably was.  We’d had a big storm that afternoon, and it was still a bit overcast.”

He peered over at me, “You never answered my question, Anna.  You having any problems over there?”

“There’s been a few little things, but nothing really problematic at this point.  Just, well, the house has its little eccentricities.  And the girls have heard a few things too, but they don’t seem to be scared of the place at all.  It’s nothing I’m going to call the Ghostbusters about just yet.”

Larry looked over at me, and I saw a tinge of concern on his face, “You ever run into anything you can’t handle, you pack your girls up and come right over, you got that?”

I gave him a reassuring smile, “I got it.  And thank you.  Say, would you like to come over for dinner this evening?  You know, see the place for yourself?  I make a tasty meatloaf.”

“Well now, meatloaf just happens to be a favorite of mine.  You got a deal.”

“Great!  Dinner is at 6:30.  We’ll see you then?”

“That you will.  I’m looking forward to it.”

(Want to read from the beginning?  Click on the "The Cottage" tag, or go here.)

The Cottage - Part 4

The rest of the fall was uneventful, and as the year drifted to a close, the house’s little quirks became so commonplace as to not arouse any further anxiety within me.  There had been no further communication from whoever might be haunting my house, and they seemed content just to have been acknowledged.  

With the holidays in full swing, those quirks would have been lost amidst the chaos anyway.  My work had trickled down to a couple of hours a day – which is normal for that time of year – leaving me plenty of time for decorating, baking, shopping and gift wrapping.  The girls had spent a rather tense Thanksgiving with their dad (by their accounts, not mine), so I was elated to have them for Christmas, and was determined to make it a happy one.

A couple of days before Christmas my oldest girl, Sarah, was up in her room taking a nap.  I swear she’s like a cat…she can sleep anywhere, anytime, and in pretty much any position.  Olivia was sitting with me at the kitchen table and we were drinking milk and nibbling on cookies.  Livvy is a bit on the silly side, so when she asked if she could talk to me about something serious, I took notice.

When I asked her what was up she replied, “Sarah hasn’t been sleeping.”

“And how do you know this?” I enquired.

“I hear her in her room at night, walking around.  It happens all the time.”

Now, any parent will tell you that they know when their child isn’t sleeping well, as said child will usually end up in the parent’s bed if the issue is bad dreams, or other problems will manifest such as the inability to stay awake at school.  So far I had experienced neither, nor had Sarah complained to me about not being able to get any rest.  And as I mentioned above while she likes her catnaps, she doesn’t take them at inappropriate times.

I wondered about the noises that Livvy was hearing, and wanted to phrase my next question in a way as to not arouse any fears or suspicion on her part.

“Has she told you anything about not being able to sleep, Livvy?”

She looked at me with big eyes, “Well, no.  But I hear her.  Could she be sleepwalking?”

This thought alarmed me.  Could she be?  She’d never been prone to it before.  “I don’t know, honey.  But I’ll talk to her, I promise.  Does it keep you awake?”

“No, not really, I generally go right back to sleep.  But sometimes when she’s talking it scares me a little.”

I felt a tinge of alarm crawl up my arms, “Do you hear what she’s saying?”

“No, I mean, it’s not really talking.  It’s just voices that you hear, but they’re mufflered.”

I let out a little laugh at that, “It’s muffled, Liv.  So it’s like a far away type voice?”

“Yes!  Like it’s coming from far away.”

“All right, honey.  I’m glad you told me.  I’ll ask her about it, I promise.  In the meantime, don’t you let it keep you up, OK?”

“OK, Mama.  Can I go watch a movie?”

“Sure, baby…you have fun.”

As Olivia went off into the living room, I mulled over what she had told me.  I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear Sarah come in, and didn’t know she was around until I noticed a little hand come creeping up from under the table, and begin feeling for the cookie plate.  With a laugh, I grabbed it, and Sarah giggled.  I hoisted her up into my lap, and gave her a hug.  It was with some regret that I realized she was soon going to be too big for that sort of thing, and hugged her a bit harder.

“Moooom, you’re smooshing me!” She exclaimed.  I let her go, and she plunked herself into the chair next to me, and grabbed a couple of chocolate chip cookies.  I went to the fridge and got her some milk, and sat back down.  I watched her for a few minutes, and then put a hand gently on her arm.

“Sarah, honey, are you having any problems sleeping?”

She laughed, “I just work up from a nap, Mama!”

“I know, but at night…is anything keeping you awake?”

Sarah knit her brows, and regarded me the carefully.  It was obvious she was trying to decide if she was in trouble for something or not.  “No ma’am.  I’ve been sleeping fine.  Olivia is the one that’s not sleeping well.  I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t want her to get mad at me.”

Damn it.  That was just the answer I’d feared.  If both daughters thought it was the other that wasn’t sleeping, then it was neither of them making the noises they’d been hearing.

“No one’s mad, Sarah.  Can you tell me what you’ve been hearing?”

“She walks around, and mumbles.  I can hear it through the wall, but I can’t figure out what she’s saying.  I’m not in trouble, am I?”

“No, sweetie…not at all.  Thank you for telling me.”  She still looked a bit leery, so I asked if she wanted to help me wrap some presents, and she perked right back up.  We headed into the sun room and soon any worries she might have had were buried under brightly colored paper and shiny ribbons.  I, however, was left to ponder what to do next.

(Want to read from the beginning?  Click on the "The Cottage" tag, or go here.)

Not That I Post Daily Anyway...

But I won't be posting tomorrow...here's why.

Thoughts on a Season...

Well, today was a heartbreaker.  But you don't win playoff games with a rookie QB turning the ball over four times.  Despite our monster Defense keeping the damage down to just one touchdown, it wasn't enough to move us into the AFC Championship.

I still love Yates.  That boy has a productive career in the NFL ahead of him.  This season has been a trial by fire, and I'm still very proud of his effort this year.  I have a feeling he's going to put this loss all on himself, and that isn't fair.  Jacoby Jones' time with this team should be over after his horribly lackluster effort in this game, including the stupid fumble that took the Texans out of the game early on.

I'm positive that with Shaub at the helm today we would have taken this game big time.  But that's neither here nor there.  Once he and Leinert were out, no one gave us a chance.  Yates gave us that chance, and the Texans deserve full credit for never giving up.

All in all, I'm happy with our play this year, and expect more of the same next year.  If we can keep on this road that we're currently on, we will be mighty next year.

Oy vey...

I'm sure as a former banker and financial analyst, you've seen this before...haven't you, Iggy?

Prototype

Ignore this.  Just posting this here because I can't get freakin' Flickr to work properly for me.  :oP

The Cottage - Part 3.

After getting the girls off to school one Friday morning, I went into my office and turned on my monitor, and unlocked my computer.  I headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, and my return to the office was delayed by an urgent call from one of my flakier clients.  She wanted to change the color scheme on an ad I was working on for her, and she needed it done ASAP as it was about to go to print on Monday.

I assured her I’d have it done before lunch…no really, I would…and after a few more minutes of back and forth I gently reminded her that the longer I was on the phone was that much less time I had to fix the work.  She finally let me go, and I returned to my office to get right on it.

I glanced at the monitor, and found that on the notepad application had been opened on my desktop; and someone had typed “hi”.  I stared at those two simple letters for a few moments, justifying in my head how it could have happened.  I concluded that I’d opened the application by accident, that the two letters were close enough on the keyboard that it could be chalked up to some fat fingering, closed the program, and settled in to my work.

But as I adjusted the color levels on the piece I was working on, little thoughts began to nag.  Where did that little greeting really come from?  And was there a possibility that not replying to that innocuous word could start an unpleasant chain of events?  I was torn as to how to handle it…brush it aside, or acknowledge it?  Either path seemed to lead into a dark place that I wasn’t too keen to explore.

I put those nagging thoughts out of my head for the next few hours and buried myself in my work.  Having to re-do the one ad put me behind schedule, and I had to concentrate on work instead of what may or may not have been a greeting from the other side.  By the time my work day was over, my anxiety over what to do had dissipated as I had more pressing things to do, including getting dinner ready for my family.

At 4:00 on the nose I heard the front door burst open as my exuberant 8 and 10 year olds barged into the house, followed by my mother.  She’d volunteered to pick them up, reminding me that it was my dad’s monthly “Guy’s night out”, so of course I’d asked her to stay for dinner.   As it was a chilly fall evening, I was making baked potato soup, and Mom and I chatted while I cooked, and the girls did their homework.

Being that where we now lived was a fairly small community, word that I’d moved into the old, abandoned Victorian had spread like wildfire.  I tended to ignore such gossip, but my mother worried about it.  She asked if anything odd had happened in the house since we’d moved in, and I lied and told her no.  That it was a perfectly normal little house, and we all enjoyed living there.

Suddenly there was a crash from my office.  I excused myself to go check, and found a pencil holder that Livvy had made for me out of a tin can back when she in kindergarten was now lying on the floor.  I picked up the assorted pens and pencils, and put it back on my desk where it belonged.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” I murmured to the air quietly.  “But I’m sorry I ignored you earlier...hello to you too.”

After that, we girls enjoyed our dinner, then sat and watched a movie after cleaning up the dishes.  My daughters seemed happy and unconcerned, and the house was peaceful.  For now, anyway.