I knew my house was haunted six minutes after moving in. I suspected before I even bought the place – what, with all the cold spots and flickering lights, it was “Haunted House: 101.” But my suspicions were completely confirmed when only moments after hanging a portrait of me with Rufus, it turned itself upside down. I watched it! I saw it happen!
There was also poor Rufus. That poor mutt was having all kinds of fits, barking at empty air, then tucking his tail and running to cower at my feet. He would shake and quiver and whine and cry. He’d never done that before. Not ever. He barked at delivery folks, but that was the most noise he’d ever made.
So I knew I was in for an adventure of some kind when I signed the closing docs. But hey, it was hella cheap! And the housing market right now is just absurd. Beggars can’t be choosers, and this was the only house I could afford. And I figured, hey! I’ve watched all of Supernatural, and pretty much every horror movie ever made, I’d be fine. I knew what to do. Salt, iron, incense, talismans – no big deal.
Well, my ghost didn’t care about salt. Pepper either. My ghost constantly moved the iron fireplace tools, so that was false advertising. And the incense? Ha! My ghost lit the incense itself! Turned out, my ghost liked the smell of sage and white roses…another dead end.
I spent a lot of time putting things back where they belonged. I closed a lot of doors and windows that I’d never opened. I snatched books and pans and other inanimate objects from the air on a near daily basis. And oh lordy, the noise that ghost made when I found a bunch of junk in the attic! But really, it wasn’t so bad. Annoying, sure, but overall it was no big deal.
We reached a tipping point five weeks after I’d completely moved in, and my ghost gave Rufus such a fright that his heart actually stopped. I had to take him to the ER vet! They said he’d be okay, but they wanted to keep him for observation. Just to be sure.
I was totally fine to share space with someone’s dearly departed, but I drew the line at hurting my puppers.
“All right, listen here, Ghost,” I shouted, slamming the door behind me after returning home from the ER. “I’ve been fine with your shenanigans. I even left your pile of crap alone upstairs. But enough is enough!”
There was no reply. No noise. No floating throw pillows. No newly lit candles. Nothing.
“Don’t you dare ignore me,” I yelled at the walls. “I’ve been more than accommodating. I get that this was probably your house first, but it’s my house now! And I swear to God, if you scare my dog like this again, I will burn every last memento up in that attic, and I will have a salty priest do it while he sings all the prayers of the bible!”
The drawer of a nearby bureau opened all the way, so quickly that it fell from it’s slot, and the contents spilled all over the floor.
I groaned, raising my hand to run my forehead. “And another thing – clearly you can make things move. So why don’t you try a broom and dustpan?”
Nothing.
“Let me make myself very clear,” I said, letting out a large sigh. “I work an average nine to five, for barely more than minimum wage. Looking for another house that I can afford is scarier than living with you. So I’m not going anywhere.”
A cold breeze blew across my face.
“If we’re going to be roommates, I’m going to need you to stop scaring my dog.” I thunked my hands onto my hips, ignoring the cold wind. “And if you decide you’re able to work a broom, I’ll listen to everything you have to say. I’ll get one of those radio things, or recording devices, or hell, I’ll even buy a Ouija board. Your call.”
I stormed away, ignoring the mess my ghost had made in the entryway, heading for the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. I clicked on my Sonos, letting my boy band playlist fill the empty space. As I was popping the cork, my station changed to classical, exchanging the smooth harmonies for strings and timpani.
Shaking my head, I poured into a very large glass. “Fine. We can listen to Vivaldi for a while.”
Halfway through my glass of wine, the vet called to say that Rufus was just fine, and I could come pick him up if I wanted. If I wanted? Did anyone ever not want?
I left my glass on the counter, with the open bottle beside it, and dashed to the front of the house to grab my purse. It was a quick trip to the vet and back, but guess what! The mess in the front hall? Cleaned up. Ghost even washed my glass and recorked my wine.
Looks like I’m going to have to buy a Ouija board.
