We talk more often of "it" and what things have happened during the day -- or night. One night, Shawn was startled out of two years growth when "it" whammed the wall right next to his head as he walked by. He is considerably less open minded than I about things that go "wham!" in the night. I know he is desperate in seeking a house he can move his family to. Soon, to his relief, he finds a job and is able to move his family into their own house. When they visit us, he doesn't lollygag in the hallway.
Months go by sometimes, and "it" doesn't do anything we notice. I am fooled two or three times into thinking the enitity has gone on to whatever is its just rewards. But then, something else happens.
Sondra phones me at work one day and tells me: "You're not going to believe what 'it' did today. I won't tell you. I'll just show you when you get home."
I say "Thanks for leaving me in suspense," and hang up. A knot grows in my stomach the rest of the day. I can't keep from thinking about what "it" might have done.
Sondra is waiting at the door; leads me wordlessly to the master bedroom. She motions me to go inside. The hair raises on the back of my neck. I get goose bumps on my arms.
The bedroom is a disaster. My clothes and shoes are scattered all over the floor. My bed covers had been snatched off the bed and twisted as if the ceiling fan had got a hold of them. I guessed the mess could have been worse. "It" could have shredded my clothes.
I ask Sondra if she did anything that day that might have caused this outburst. After a moment she recalled sheepishly that she had closed and locked the bedroom door before going shopping. I said please don't do that again. It seems "it" doesn't like to be in a locked bedroom. I wonder what kind of entity this is. I had always read that ghosts can walk right through walls. Maybe this one didn't know it could, or hadn't tried.
In 1987, Renee and her four kids, the last one barely a year old, fly into Orlando, Florida. Denton is being transferred back to the states, so Renee and the kids had come on ahead to stay with us until Denton arrives. We drive to the airport and pick them up.
Sometime during their stay, I was standing in the bathroom shaving at the sink. I heard a whisper in my left ear: "My name is John." Involuntarily, I jerked my head around. But then thought maybe I imagined it. I chuckled. Next day, though, Renee related that while she was working in the laundry room someone or something whispered in her ear "My name is John." From that point on, we referred to the entity as John, speaking his name softly, however, so as not to rile him up.
The year was 1990 before John spoke again. Bruce's girlfriend Cynthia was in the kitchen using the wall phone when a voice whispered in her ear: "What a pretty girl. Have you been here before?" Upon learning that no one had played a trick on her with a hidden speaker and microphone, she lost no time in leaving. To my knowledge, she's never been back.
In my bedroom, at least three times, a burst of sound like a muffled shout startled me awake. Once, it sounded like my own voice coming at me from across the room -- only I'm not a ventriloquist. Two other times it sounded like Sondra's voice, and once like our granddaughter Melody's voice; one immediately following the other. I get up, go into the living room to see what Sondra wants. She is fast asleep, as is Melody.
|
