I'm in a spooky mood today. Actually I feel like hell as I'm nursing a chest cold and I ache all over but beyond the physical I could really go for a scary movie or a frightening read.
I just finished the first draft of my novel, Forest of Fear. It's scary stuff so maybe that's why I find myself feeling this way today. Actually there isn't a day that goes by that I don't imagine something scary happening. That can't be normal, can it?
The other night my wife Heather and I took Ozzie (our beagle) for a walk. Heather wanted to walk over to the Connaught Park area of town. For those of you not familiar with my area of the world Connaught Park is surrounded with beautiful Victorian homes dating back to the early 1900s, some earlier. Heather loves to walk through the neighbourhood to marvel at the beauty of these historic homes. I, on the other hand, love to imagine the ghosts who haunt these homes. I know at least one of them is haunted because my friend lives in the neighbourhood with his wife and family.
He told me a story a few years ago about the strange things that go on in his house. When they moved in nothing was out of the ordinary. However, things started to go 'bump in the night' once renovations started on the house.
On one occasion my friend put down a spatula he was using in the kitchen when his wife called him upstairs to help her. When he returned downstairs the spatula was gone. He'd set it down on the counter, he was sure of it. He searched all through the kitchen and upstairs. The spatula seemed to have vanished into thin air. Stymied, he had to forgo his work as the spatula was vital to what he was doing.
Two nights went by and downstairs my friend was wakened by the banging of cupboard doors. But when he went to investigate the kitchen noises he found nothing amiss. On the third night the banging was severe so it woke up the whole family. When he went downstairs he stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the kitchen. There in the middle of the floor was his spatula. Every cupboard door was wide open and he swore they were closed when he shut down the house to go to bed.
On another occasion my friend's wife was alone in the house in the middle of the afternoon. While she worked away in the kitchen she thought she heard the sound of running water upstairs. But that was impossible because she was the only person home. The longer she listened the louder the sound got until she was convinced a tap was running upstairs. Climbing the oak staircase her fear was confirmed when she reached the top. There, in the bathroom at the end of the hall, was the faucet turned on full. Water and steam filled the air because it was the hot water faucet that was cranked open. Using a towel she got it turned off. After the initial shock of the event wore off she returned downstairs to pour herself a cup of tea to calm her nerves. Before the kettle had boiled the faucet upstairs sprang to life again. Fortunately my friend arrived home just as his wife was walking towards the staircase. She told him what had happened and he went upstairs and turned off the faucet. For weeks after the event my friend's wife refused to spend a lot of time alone in the house.
Those were just two of many creepy events that took place in one of those beautiful Victorian homes. My friend's family has now accepted the ghost and know her idiocyncracies. They believe she's looking out after the home and didn't take kindly to a new family changing things. They have no intentions of moving.
If that could happen in one of those homes I imagine what other ghosts must lurk in the other historic homes of the neighbourhood. That's what runs through my mind when I walk my dog. Yes, the homes are beautiful, but they have history and not all of it can be good.
Has anything spooky ever happened to you? I'd love to hear about it.
