Mystery of the Windowed Closet

by R. J. Bonett

  “George, do you want me to take you home?”

  “I think so. I’m a little tired.”

  “Ray, while you’re taking him home, I’ll get the broom and clean up this mess.” Delores said.

  June remarked, “I’ll help.”

  I said, “Delores, after you finish, go with Frank and June. I’ll join you after I get back,”

  Don looked relieved that he didn’t have to remain in the house until I returned, and testimony to that, he began helping clean up to get finished a little quicker.

  “George, let me help you with your jacket. Thanks for coming.”

  “Call on me anytime,” he replied.

  “We’re heading back to the city tomorrow, but I hope to come back next weekend, will you still be available?”

  “If the good Lord’s willing, and I’m still alive. I don’t have anything planned. I’ll be here.”

  “I pulled into George’s driveway and walked with him up the path to his porch. He went inside and waited until I got back in the car before switching the porch light on and off, letting me know he was safely inside, then I drove back to Frank’s.

  When I arrived, everyone was sitting around the dining room table, drinking coffee and talking about what each other felt and observed. The excitement for the night was over, but Frank was more interested in the house he grew up in and had no idea there was such a tragic story behind its history. The experience confirmed to him the nightmare his sister had to endure in her young life, no one else in the family was aware of.

  Frank said, “When those cabinet drawers and doors started opening and closing by themselves, my first instinct was to get the hell out of there just as fast as I could. The only thing stopping me was June squeezing the hell out of my one hand, and your tight grip Ray, on the other. I didn’t want to look like a coward, especially in front of my wife. So I stayed.”

  “Delores, what do you think is the reason for the cabinet doors and drawers opening and closing so violently?” I asked.

  “From what you’re telling me of my reaction, and the conversation with Levi through George, it’s obvious the spirit that’s present is probably Daniel. He seems to be harboring anger to the house that gives refuge to the woman he still loves and the man she married.”

  “Then why doesn’t he affect all of us, instead of just certain people?”

  “That’s a question I don’t have an answer to, but the fact that he only affects certain people could mean they themselves have some psychic ability. More than likely; and I don’t know for sure, since the anger could be coming from Adda or Levi, they may be desperately trying to get someone’s attention to help them. I do feel somehow the carriage you experienced the night you arrived has something to do with the night of the fire, but I don’t understand what. People that aren’t in the trance are valuable. They can ask pertinent questions and are able to critique after the séance. With all my experiences, the people in a trance most of the time, don’t remember what takes place. They’re sort of in a suspended animation with someone else controlling their mind. Feelings are different; they’re a state of mind of the spirit that actually enters my body. It’s obvious that George is the same. With only feeling the pain in his knee tonight, it sounds like the spirit of Levi entering his body is becoming stronger. Tonight he was able to tell us more.”

  Frank remarked, “Maybe its Adda’s parents in the carriage, coming to warn them about Daniel and what they feared he might do.”

  “I never thought of that Frank, but that would make sense,” Delores replied.

  June remarked, “Instead of being unprepared like we were tonight, we should write a few questions down we’d like to ask. I’ll get a pencil and paper.” Returning to the table, she asked, “Delores, what question should we ask first?”

  “The first question we should ask is why Adda was home alone that night with her son. The second question should be what, if anything did the carriage, the Quaker couple and the barn have to do with that night?”

  Excitedly, June asked, “Ray, are you coming up next weekend? If you are, I mean, if you’re having another séance, we’d like to be here.”

  Frank, wide-eyed, quickly looked at June as if to say, “Thanks for volunteering me, but after tonight’s episode, I would have liked the opportunity to be silent.”

  “Ray, I hope you’re coming up.” Delores said, “I want to get down to the real reason for this haunting. This by far, is a haunting with the most active spirits I’ve ever encountered.”

  “I’ll be willing to come up. I’d like to get it resolved one way or another, before I begin the work on the place to make it livable without all these manifestations. I know it sounds like a line from a horror story, but I wouldn’t want to be working on a project in the house and turn around to see Daniel standing behind me with a hatchet in his hand.”

  Don looked at me and replied, “Now that’s dramatic.”

  After saying goodnight to June and Frank we left for the motel.

  I wanted to get an early start in the morning and get back to the city to catch up on some unfinished work when I left the office on Thursday, not wanting to impose too much on Mr. Johnson’s good will.

  With the skyline of the city coming into view, it didn’t take long to get to Don and Delores’s. After dropping them off, I returned to my apartment, and immediately got into my work.

  Chapter 11

  I stayed at work an extra two hours each day as I did last week not wanting to fall behind. On Wednesday, I was about to pick up the phone to call Don when it rang. Talk about being psychic. Before I could say hello, Delores excitedly asked. “What time are we leaving on Friday?”

  Knowing her interest would be compounded by what we experienced, I jokingly replied, “I didn’t think you wanted to go, so I made other plans.”

  Quickly responding, “You creep: I’ve been talking about what happened all week. We want to get to the farm early.”

  I laughed then responded, “Delores, before any more insults calling me a creep, I took off Friday again. I can pick you up in the morning at 8:00 if it’s all right with you.”

  “All right with us: Make it in the morning as early as you can.”

  “Ok, ok, I’ll be there.”

  “That’s great, we’ll be waiting. Oh: by the way. I hope you don’t mind, I spoke to a friend about what happened, she’s also a psychic. She wanted me to ask if she could come with us. Her name is Susan.”

  “Is she as good as you?”

  Ignoring my question she excitedly rattled on, “I spoke to her this week, she had some interesting things to say, and yes, she’s not only as good as me- she’s better. She’s also attractive and divorced without any current attachments.”

  In a less interested voice I commented, “I’d wish you’d stop trying to match mate me. I’m happy for right now. That’s not the real reason for her being invited, is it?”

  “No: she’s every bit of a professional. When I told her about George and the mysterious blue glass bottle, she almost begged me to go.”

  “Since you say that her credentials are better than yours- something I can hardly believe, I don’t mind. The more input the better.”

  “Ok, now that we got the B.S. out of the way, what time are you picking us up?”

  “Like I said, I’ll be there around 8:00, the same as last Friday.”

  On Friday, I drove to Don’s. Pulling up in front of the house, Delores introduced her friend as soon as I got out of the car.

  “Ray, this is Susan.”

  Extending my hand I said, “Pleasure to meet you Susan. Would you mind if I just called you Sue?”

  “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

  She was every bit of what Delores described. Attractive, very attractive, and I might add, well built also. She was blond, about the same age as Delores, but a litt
le taller, about five feet five inches.

  “I hear you have boarders that aren’t paying rent,” she amusingly said.

  “Yeah, but they’re boarders I can do without. Delores tells me you’re also a psychic, and better than her.”

  She replied, “I don’t believe the better than her part, but yes, I’m also a psychic. And please, don’t give me the strange look I always get when someone asks that question.”

  I replied, “Well, it’s certainly a statement you don’t hear every day, but I guess their looks are sometimes warranted.”

  “After your experiences the last couple of weekends, what do you think of the occult?” she asked.

  “You didn’t see me give you that look you just described; the look you claim most people give you when you tell them__ did you?”

  “No, I guess you’re safe.”

  It was the last weekend of October, and on the drive I noted how the trees were in full color in and around the city.

  “Yes Ray,” Sue remarked, “They’re beautiful. The problem is; they won’t last very long. The other day when I was walking to the store, I was stepping on the leaves listening to them crunch.

  It reminded me of when I was a kid stepping on the biggest ones. What stage are the leaves in at the farm?”

  “The peak is past but I think they’re still enough on the trees that will make it look colorful.”

  The drive seemed quicker than normal probably because it was filled with conversation about the weekend before. Sue was actually the focal point on most of the trip, and it was interesting listening to some of her experiences in dealing with the spirit world. Some of her stories were almost parallel with our séance.

  I hadn’t known from Delores, but Susan talked about a psychic experience she had in Frankford. I realized Sue must have been the person Delores was telling me about, the one working with the apparitions of the Quakers in the Sullivan’s home. If what Delores told me was true, she probably is just as good as her or as Delores described, ‘Even better.’

  As we neared our exit I was happy to see for Susan’s sake, most of the leaves were still on the trees. Turning toward the farm she remarked, “This area is beautiful! The farms and valleys in fall color are like a painting.”

  I was happy she said so, and knew her opinion would soon change after she saw the inside of my house.

  “Ray, let’s get a late lunch at the Chatterbox,” Delores suggested.

  Sue asked, “Ray, what’s the Chatterbox? Sounds like a day care center.”

  “I’ll let Delores tell you. She’s been there.”

  “Sue, it’s the friendliest restaurant you’ll ever eat in and the food’s great.” Being coy she added, “You have to watch out for the prices though, they’re out of hand.”

  Delores and I looked at each other with a smile, knowing she was leading Sue on.

  Sue replied, “If they’re that bad, we can go somewhere else. I don’t have to eat an expensive lunch.”

  Looking at each other we smiled again knowing she was unaware of what she was about to learn when we got there. I was happy when she said, ‘We don’t have to eat an expensive lunch.’ That thought would have never entered my ex’s mind.

  As we reached the edge of town, Sue read aloud the brightly colored, hand-carved sign: “Welcome to Canton.”

  “Well, here it is!” I announced, “The fair Metropolis of Canton, population about 2,000.”

  Don quickly replied, “Where are they hiding? I haven’t seen a 150 people on two trips here. They must be counting the same people more than once.”

  I laughed.

  As we drove down Main Street, I pointed out the Rialto Theater, the Sentinel newspaper, the Library and Jim’s Gun Shop.

  Sue said, “Looks like a quaint little town to me. I’ll bet living here isn’t that bad.”

  I replied, “I’ll know better after I move here in 20 years. I know one thing for sure. It’s going to be less crowded and probably a lot less expensive than living in the city.”

  Turning in my direction Don replied, “Ray, I’ve known you for a long time. I would have never guessed a person like you would have made a move like this,”

  “Why’s that, Don?” Sue asked inquisitively.

  “Well Sue, first of all, he loves the baseball games and football games we go to and he has a lot of friends. It seems to me he’ll have to give up a lot of his current lifestyle. I guess my question is will he be happy doing that?”

  “Wait a minute Don,” I replied, “I have news for you. I was thinking about it for two years now, ever since Charles got married and left our group.”

  “Who’s Charles?” Sue asked, seemingly more interested in our conversation.

  “He’s one of the guy’s in the city we hung around with. He married a girl from Colorado that worked in Philadelphia at the time. She went back home to help her mother that became terminally ill with cancer. Her mother owned a 200 acre ranch, 50 miles outside of Denver. I still keep in touch with them. He told me it took awhile to get used to, but since then, he’s become a regular cowboy. Not that I’m old or decrepit, but how long do you think I’m going to keep going to sports bars Don? Let’s face it, the city’s getting more expensive to live in every year and eventually you’ll have to wake up to that reality.”

  “What reality:” he replied.

  “Don, my father had a saying that still rings true today. ‘You better be living where you can afford to be, 10 years after you retire.’

  “That sounds like a man with a lot of common sense,” Sue remarked.

  “That doesn’t even begin to talk about the intangibles,” I continued, “The people aren’t in a rush here, and I don’t have to circle the block three times before I find a parking space. I’ll give you an example. I went to the supermarket last week.”

  Don interrupted with a little sarcasm in his voice, “You mean the super market we passed when we got to town, the one that was a supermarket when it was built in the 1950s?”

  “Yes, that’s it. I was standing in the checkout line when the person in front of me started a conversation with the cashier. I was becoming very impatient waiting then suddenly realized there was no reason to rush. Luckily, I decided to wait for five more minutes before clearing my throat, reminding them I was still waiting. It was the same way at the bank where I opened up an account. Unlike the city where you have two tellers and 20 people waiting, I saw three tellers and two patrons. These are small examples we never notice living in the city.”

  “That’s a funny story, Ray,” Sue said before continuing, “Come to think about it, I had the opposite experience at the supermarket the other day. I only had to buy a quart of milk and there was a long line. I was late for an appointment and politely asked an elderly woman closer to being checked out if I could get in front of her.

  She agreed, but a person behind her began taking issue with her letting me in.”

  “What happened then?” I asked.

  “Well, rather than make a scene, I thanked the woman and started walking to the end of the line when a guy who was two people behind the old woman let me in front of him. He was big and burly, and I didn’t hear anyone behind him objecting. Not even the guy that was giving the old woman grief.”

  “Sue, that’s called common courtesy. It’s in abundance here. It was also that way in Western Pennsylvania where my father moved after he retired.”

  “I would have liked to have met your father,” she said, “He sounds like a real philosopher.”

  “If you ever had a conversation with his father, you’d realize how much of an understatement that is,” Delores added.

  Delores changed the subject. “If we get a chance and can use Ray’s car this afternoon, I’d like to look in some of these small shops on Main Street. They’re probably locally owned. Look! There’s even an antique shop we could browse.”r />
  I interrupted their conversation. “Well, if you ladies don’t mind, let’s see if we can get my problem fixed first.”

  “Ok, Ray,” Sue said. “We didn’t forget your problem. Where is this Chatterbox?”

  “It’s on the other side of this intersection, and I might add, the only traffic signal in town.”

  After parking on the lot, we went inside.

  Walking in Ruthie looked up from wiping a table and said, “Hi Ray, you people find a seat. Here are a few menus. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Susan looked around and in almost a whisper asked, “Is this place where I’ll be shocked at the prices on the menu?”

  I replied, “Yes, but not the way you thought. Look at it.”

  The lunch crowd was thinning out, and we found a table for four next to the front window.

  “This place from the outside looks like it may have been a store or showroom for something,” Sue noted, “These windows are almost floor to ceiling.”

  “I thought the same thing the first time I was here. I examined the building from the outside. There’s a weathered sign near the top that reads ‘Packard Auto Sales and Garage.’ This must have been the showroom. The restaurant is only a small part of the building. There’s several other small businesses attached, and what looks like apartments on the floors above.”

  Taking in my description of the building, she opened the menu. Quickly closing it, she remarked as she stood up as if she was ready to leave then smiled. “I think these prices are outrageous! Let’s get out of here.”

  We laughed, and I thought to myself, “She has a neat sense of humor. I wonder whether her humor would still be intact after she sees the house, and realizes her opinion of my common sense wasn’t misguided.”