my haunted house part doux
Long story short, after some time and hunting we found a lovely house, paint peeling yellow, Victorian, 1885 10 rooms, unfinished basement and attic, in a far away storybook town in New Hampshire, at a excellent price and yes I went for it. Coming with me was my soon to be husband, new baby and assorted friends.
I really loved this T shaped house, the 2 main rooms on each floor each had 7 apertures. It had a sun porch, bay windows, a massive 7 car driveway that once held a carriage house. TWO full bathrooms. The compact back yard stretched up the hill to the crown where the city cemetery was. Massive oaks and maples shaded the building making it cool in summer.
Walking distance to the recreation center and park, cherry wood floors, mahogany wainscoting, and all the things we could hope for. Monthly payment was half the price of the 2 bedroom we had been packed into! We were happy and content. From the front it even looked like a face!
We moved in the weekend before a massive nor'easter hit the area, as I hurried to our new home on its last trip, our 3 bikes and my tricycle tied with clothesline to the roof of my station wagon I though I would never get thru the storm home, but we made it.
Unpacking took days, I was off work as I had had my second son "Larry", and "Moe" at 5 was in heaven that he could just run out the door after breakfast and play all he wanted. My husband found employment at a jiffy lube that he commuted to quickly and life became calm and routine.
Then the weird stuff started. About springtime, In the laundry room, I started to feel uncomfortable, like someone was standing behind me, and one morning as I leaned down to get the last sox out of the machine i was PUSHED, HARD, I fell on the floor off the washer, but no one was there.
I started bringing Moe down with me when I did wash, one morning he walked up to me from the main unfinished part of the basement and told me "Carl's eating lunch"
"Whose Carl?" I asked
"Oh hes over there in the corner, he stays down here."
Really! was my thought, kids.
A few days later when I came down the stairs. I saw him, ok ,so I saw PART of someone, a torso, white t-shirt and white pants and braces, nothing below the knees and nothing above the chest, sitting in midair at the corner of the basement, then it was gone.
my first comment was "sh*T" and I dropped the laundry and ran back upstairs.
Later on I asked my son about Carl.
"Oh he paints" (white shirt, white pants?)"but hes stays in the corner down here cause doesn't like the others" Oooook. I was really not disbelieving my son but.
As time went on, more things started happening. one of my friends sleeping on the couch saw a big broad shouldered man walk out of my bedroom one morning and vanish in the middle of the kitchen, said he looked like he was wearing a uniform.I shrugged, "nope no one like that around here I said.
I started keeping a record, little things moving, that the kids could NOT have gotten into or reached. things out of my reach, I'm 5 feet tall, I kept a step stool just to get to the coffee.
One of the sun porch windows was always hanging open, even when I took the time to nail the blasted thing shut because of the snow coming in and cover it with plastic.
Yes that first year was interesting to say the least.