Day 88: Cats or ghosts?

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 88: Cats or ghosts?

I want to tell you a story. Actually, it’s not a story, it’s actual events, not a word of a lie, no embellishments. In short, strange things are happening at my place.

This morning I got out of bed and the first thing I noticed was that a book was lying face down on the bottom shelf. The book, ‘Stolen Beginnings’ by Susan Lewis. It’s an old book, dating back to 1990.

On the shelf next to it, I noticed this ... a book partially pulled out.

In this case the name of the book ‘Name Dropping’ by Jane Heller, published in 2000.

I haven’t looked at either of those books in years and years. So why was one lying face down on the shelf and was the other one was partially pulled out? Am I to assume that my cats have suddenly developed an interest in reading? Or is it something more sinister?

Where it comes to weird things happening, this is not the first time. There have been other incidents. Long-time readers may recognize the story, but for the sake of new readers let me tell it again.

I was alone at home (Dieter was on vacation in Belgium), had gone to bed around 11:00 p.m. and before going to sleep I was reading a few pages of a book. Pitoe and Floppy were sleeping at the foot end of my bed.

Suddenly the kitchen window rattled violently like someone got hold of it and shook it with all their might. The cats lifted their head and I stopped reading. What was that?

When all remained quiet, I relaxed somewhat, but suddenly there it was again, that violent rattle of the kitchen window. I dove under the duvet up to my eyeballs, glaring at the cats who also seemed alarmed. And I thought to myself … if this happens again, I’m outa here.

Five or ten minutes passed and then … the violent rattling happened again. I didn’t think twice. I got out of bed, slipped on my peignoir, grabbed my car keys and drove to my friend’s house. Joan laughed when I told her what happened, said that my imagination was running away with me, but agreed that I could sleep in her spare bedroom.

To cut a long story short, I slept at Joan's house for two nights, but when I saw a neighbor peeking from behind her curtain, seeing me come home at 6:00 in the morning, I realized that this couldn’t go on. I would have to brave it.

To celebrate Dieter’s homecoming, I invited Joan and her son Brendan for coffee and cake. I was in the kitchen when the window once again rattled violently. Joan, Dieter, and Brendan came flying into the kitchen. 

“What was that?” they said in unison. “That,” I said, “was what I heard that night.”

All of them were suitably shocked. 

“No wonder you were scared,” Joan stated. 

“Hm, now imagine this happening in the middle of the night,” I said. 

Joan wasn’t laughing anymore.

Now to go back in time a little bit … while all the creepy stuff was happening, another friend, Cheryl, invited me to her house for a long weekend. Eager to get away from my creepy house, I accepted.

After dinner and a movie, Cheryl, her mother and I retired to our bedrooms. Being out in the country my bedroom was pitch dark.

Shortly after I turned off the light, I heard the bedroom door opening and closing. Next, I heard cabinet doors softly being opened and closed and drawers equally softly being opened and closed. Whether it was Cheryl or her mother, one of them was obviously looking for something but didn’t want to wake me.

Suddenly, I felt someone sitting down next to me on the bed. I became alarmed, Cheryl was a good friend, but she wasn’t that good a friend – if you know what I mean. So I reached over and switched on the light … there was nobody in my room. I left the light on for the remainder of the night.

The next morning at breakfast I told Cheryl and her mother of what happened. “Oh dear,” her mother said, “not again.” Over coffee and croissants, they told me that strange things had been happening in that room. 

“And you put me there!” I said. 

“What else could we do?” Cheryl said. “We couldn’t very well put you in the blue room.” 

“The blue room?” I questioned. 

“Oh that room is definitely out of bounds,” her mother said. “That room is constantly ice-cold even now in the middle of summer.”

They showed me the room, and while I didn’t go inside, they were right … ice-cold air met me in the hallway.

Even though I had initially agreed to stay three days, I made a swift exit never to return to Cheryl’s house again.

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