Bob’s mom’s eyes glowed crazy with worry. She darted away from the open car door.
Bob lightly caught her shoulder. “I’ll look for them after I take you home, Mom,” he said with a yawn. “Promise me that you will call me instead of wandering out in the night. Kathy and I worry about you.”
During the short drive to the old farmhouse, Bob’s mom looked out the passenger side window into the darkness, searching for signs of the missing children.
“Promise me, Mom.”
She continued to peer out into the blackness as he led her into the house.
“I mean it!” Bob said.
“I promise,” she wearily agreed.
“Everything okay, hon?” Kathy asked, snuggling up to Bob as he crawled back into bed.
“Mom again,” he sighed heavily.
“Is she still hearing voices?”
“Yes. It seems to be getting worse. We have to find a place for her. I just cannot take any more chances. She could fall into the lake or hurt herself running over here or … who knows what else!”
“We’ll call around in the morning,” Kathy mumbled sleepily.
“There it is,” Chuck pointed out the front of windshield. “There’s Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bob’s house!”
“And there is the haunted farmhouse! Dagney’s old house.” Cora spoke up, pointing to the white farmhouse that stood east of the more contemporary home that Chuck had pointed to.
“Haunted?” I smirked. “It looks like a cute house. Not spooky at all.”
“Just wait,” Chuck warned with a grin.
The crackle of the stones under the car tires signaled our arrival and the homeowners met us in the driveway.
“Aunt Kathy. Uncle Bob. Meet my new girlfriend Kristy and her kids Micaela and Connor.”
I offered a hug to each and proceeded to stretch. After the long trip from Michigan to Minnesota, everybody in the car was stiff. Chuck’s kids, Cora and Molly, scooted out of the car and “how big you have grown” remarks were shared, along with more hugs and kisses.
“Can we take Micaela and Connor down to the lake?” Cora asked her dad.
“Yes, but be careful,” Chuck warned the kids as they ran off down to the water, barely waiting for his approval.
After carrying the luggage into the house and to our respective rooms, the adults sat down at the dining room table, overlooking the rolling farmland out the door.
“So, Kristy, Chuck tells me that you’re a psychic,” Aunt Kathy said, looking inquisitive.
“I prefer intuitive, but yes … I am a psychic. Not professionally, mind you. I have a real job, too.” I laughed nervously, pouring a soft drink into a glass and taking a sip.
“Well, I can’t wait to take you over to Uncle Bob’s mom’s house to see what you think. The kids think it is haunted.” Aunt Kathy laughed.
I laughed with her. It seemed that once people found out I was a psychic, everybody had some haunted story and I remained a skeptic. Intrigued, but still skeptical.
Chuck and the kids had told me stories of the abandoned farmhouse, or Dagney’s house as they called it. There had been no scientific evidence of a haunting, merely just a feeling that they got when they were in there. In fact, the house was completely furnished, yet nobody would stay in it because of that eerie feeling.
After a few days into the vacation, the gang decided to visit the “haunted” home. The sun was still high in the Minnesota sky as Chuck, Aunt Kathy, and all the kids led the way through the fields over to the house. Unlocking the door, Aunt Kathy stepped back and let Chuck and me enter before her.
“So … do you feel anything?” Chuck and Aunt Kathy both asked in unison as they all entered the kitchen.
I laughed. “Give me some time to actually see the house.”
Straight through the kitchen was the dining room, furnished with a beautiful antique dining set. To the right of the dining room was a living room boasting a couch, chairs, and a piano. But the most startling, most eerie part of the living room was hanging on the wall—a painting of a young woman with black hair, large eyes, and a sober expression. Perpendicular to the painting was a small mirror reflecting the painting, yet the face in mirror took on an entirely new look—gray hair and hollow eyes. I jumped back at the sight.
“See?” Cora grinned. “Spooky, huh?”
“There has to be an explanation. The lighting or something,” I said and continued on, moving slowly through the other rooms.
Accessible through both the master bedroom and the living room was a bathroom. I stopped, feeling an odd, closed-throat feeling.
“The cellar is through this trap door here,” Aunt Kathy said, pointing to the access panel in the bathroom. “Do you want to go down there?”
“Sure, but only if someone will accompany me.”
“I’ve got your back,” Chuck said as he pulled the door open and turned on switch that would light the way.
Carefully and slowly, we climbed down the steep stairway. Jars of canned food lined the long stone wall. And although a dirt floor was the foundation, the basement was remarkably clean of cobwebs and dust. Cora snapped pictures from the bathroom above. A thick sense of evil was felt, and my chest began to feel tight, as if someone were sitting on it.
“Let’s get out of here,” Chuck said while looking around, his face turning white. “This wall should not be boarded up like this,” Chuck added, pointing at the wall behind the furnace. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Chuck put his hand on my shoulders and steered me to the steps and we once again carefully and slowly climbed up until we reached the bathroom.
“Well?” the group asked in unison.
“It definitely has a strange feel to it down there,” I replied, trying to sound skeptical so as not to scare the kids.
“Why don’t we go upstairs?” Aunt Kathy said, walking toward the stairwell.
“Mom, I’m having hard time breathing,” Micaela whispered, her blue eyes shining with fear.
“Why don’t you and Connor go outside? I won’t be long.”
“I’d rather stay with you. I’ll be okay, I just feel strange,” Micaela stated and began climbing the steps with the rest of the group.
Molly whispered to Aunt Kathy, “Micaela and Connor are both sensitive, too.”
The upstairs had two bedrooms and a bathroom. Nothing unusual was felt in the bathroom, but upon entering the first bedroom, I began to choke back tears. Images of a young girl being raped in the closet ran painfully through my head. Emotions from the young girl’s ordeal were strongly felt and I ushered Micaela and Connor quickly to the next room, without a word to anybody. The next room had a sense of oddness to it also, but held no apparent explanation why.
An old orchard grew between the houses. Old, beautiful trees cascaded down, creating shadows upon the family as they walked back home.
Connor raced up to me. “Mom? Why do I feel like someone is following me and yet nobody is behind me?”
“I don’t know, hon,” I replied with a hug, “but nothing can hurt you. Mom won’t let that happen.”
Connor, satisfied with the answer, raced to catch up with the girls, who were already near the porch.
“Aunt Kathy, would it be okay if Chuck and I came back to the farmhouse later tonight? Without the kids.”
Aunt Kathy nodded and said that she would leave the key with Chuck in case they were not home. “Is there is something wrong?” she asked.
“Wrong? Well, I can give you my impressions, but can you wait until I sit down and try and gather all of my thoughts?”
“Of course.”
I went to take a hot shower, water being a sanctuary for thought, and tried to come up with a politically correct way to state my impressions.
With the kids down by the water playing and out of earshot, Chuck, Aunt Kat
hy, Uncle Bob, and I once again sat around the dining room table.
“Well,” I began, “I was skeptical. Do I think the house is haunted? I don’t know, but I definitely can you give you some of my impressions. First, that picture in the living room gives me the creeps and there’s something in the basement that was bothering me. Is there a room that’s blocked off down there?”
Uncle Bob nodded. “Yes, I do believe there is. They did that when they put the new furnace in. I’m not sure why, though.”
I thought for a moment on how to voice the next statement. “My main impression, though”—I hesitated again—“is in the closet in the first bedroom upstairs. I sensed that a young girl was taken advantage of against her will.”
Uncle Bob and Aunt Kathy both nodded.
“Yes, that did happen. I didn’t know where in the house, but … I will trust that you know more than I do. We don’t speak of that incident, as you might understand.”
“The other strange feeling that I got was when we passed the orchard. I know that Connor also was picking up on something. Do you happen to know why I felt a presence there?”
“Well,” Uncle Bob began, “the original farmhouse stood in front of that orchard. I believe that there was a fire in the late 1800s that burned it to the ground and the house you were just at was built in its place.”
“Interesting. I’ll see if I pick up anything tonight without having to worry about the kids.”
“Kristy! Dad! Look at this!” Cora came running in from the backyard. “I was looking at the pictures that I took at the farmhouse. Look.”
She handed the camera to me and I hit Review. Scrolling through the many pictures, I saw several photos that displayed orbs, yet they were only apparent in the shots that the kids were in. In the basement, a picture of a face, against the wall, was as clear as day.
“Freaky,” I responded. Once again trying not get hyped up.
“Can Molly and I please go with you later?”
Chuck and I looked at one another. Micaela was ten years old and Connor eight. But Cora and Molly were older, being sixteen and thirteen, respectively.
Sighing deeply, Chuck agreed to let the girls go, but not until Connor and Micaela were settled in for the night with a movie to watch, preferably a non-scary movie.
Once night fell, the group of four set out on the expedition. Carrying a flashlight and two cameras, Molly, Cora, Chuck, and I walked across the field toward the white farmhouse, the full moon brightly lighting the way. Passing in front of the orchard, I once again felt a sense of panic in my chest, but continued on trying to look inconspicuous. And just as Connor had described, I too felt like someone was watching me from the grove.
Unlocking the door, we entered and turned on the kit-chen light. Walking through the dining room to the living room, I thought that once again the portrait of the woman seemed to have changed her expression from earlier in the day, yet the image in the mirror remained the same as what was on the wall. As Chuck walked through the rest of the house to turn on the overhead lights, his flashlight stopped working. No matter how much he banged it, it would not come back to life. He shrugged, since the lights were now on. The energy in the house was thick as the group toured the farmhouse again. Too frightened of the cellar and without a light source, I bowed out of venturing downstairs, and instead made my way upstairs with everyone else following close behind. Once again, the strong emotion of past activities in the closet hit hard and I began to tear up. It was then that Chuck noticed the blankets on the bed moving, as if someone was sitting on the bed. Molly straightened the bedclothes out, but after a few seconds they again made impressions. Startled and unsure as to what was making the movement, everyone went into the other bedroom, where the same phenomenon was witnessed.
“Someone is definitely trying to make us aware of their presence!” I stated.
“I cannot get my camera to work,” Cora complained.
I tried mine. “Me neither. It’s got brand-new batteries, too.”
“Same here.” Cora nodded.
Molly and Cora’s eyes grew wide as they looked around for more signs, but the energy seemed to settle down, so the group decided to go back down to the first floor and call it a night. Holding tightly to the railing, I led the way down the steep stairway. Feeling someone bump up against me, I turned around to urge cautiousness; however, the closest person was still three stairs up above me.
“Did you hear that?” Chuck questioned.
“Hear what? All I know is that I felt someone bump into me. But nobody bumped into me,” I said, stopping in my tracks in the middle of the steps.
“I hear children downstairs,” Chuck answered, “back by the laundry room.”
Soft giggles from the first floor carried up the stairwell.
“Maybe Micaela and Connor came over to scare us,” Cora offered.
“Maybe,” both Chuck and I replied in unison, not sounding a bit convinced.
Chuck made his way toward the laundry room with me following behind.
“I’m having a hard time breathing all of a sudden,” I said and quickly walked back to the living room with the kids, trying to catch my breath.
“I’ll go with Dad,” Molly said, and courageously ran ahead, but just as I had, quickly returning complaining of not being able to catch her breath.
“I cannot see them,” Chuck called out from the other room, “but I can still hear them. It is as if they are taunt … ”
Before Chuck finished his sentence, the phone rang; one loud shrill. Our group ran to the kitchen door, holding tight to one another in fear. After a second, all erupted into fits of giggles from the silliness of being scared of the telephone.
“Good one, Uncle Bob. Fabulous timing!” Chuck chuckled. “I did hear kids’ voices, though.”
Everybody nodded. Everybody else had heard them too.
Still high on the adrenaline of the scare, we walked toward the living room once more, only to again be stopped in our tracks again.
“Over here,” a child giggled, and then one single high note on the piano played as all looked on.
“What the … ” Cora began.
“And I think that is our note to leave,” I joked. “We have spooked ourselves enough to last us awhile. I think there is a lot of activity here. More than what we can deal with ourselves and I don’t want anybody getting hurt. I think we should just leave,” I said seriously.
Just as we went to walk out the door, the rotary phone shrilled again and the group screeched. Instead of answering, everybody silently slid out the back door, locked the door, and began the journey back home.
“Odd,” Chuck said, breaking the silence. “Flashlight works now.”
“So does my camera,” I added, flipping the switch.
“Mine too,” Cora said, doing the same.
“So? What did you find?” Connor and Micaela asked, greeting us at the door.
“Isn’t it way past your bedtime?” I scolded. “Go back to bed and I’ll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in.”
Hesitantly, the kids closed the hall door and headed solemnly to their bedrooms.
“The kids have been very concerned about you, so we let them stay up,” Aunt Kathy said. “So, did you find anything?”
“Well, you both pulled some great pranks on us,” Chuck said, laughing.
Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bob looked innocently at the family. “What do you mean?” Uncle Bob asked.
The activities of the night were explained in depth, with all adding their own flavor to it.
“We promise that we did not go over to the house. Micaela and Connor can vouch for us on that one,” Uncle Bob said.
“We promise. We’ve been here the whole time!” Connor chimed in, eavesdropping from the hallway with Micaela in tow.
“Well, you called us, right?” Chuck laughed, still
trying to shake off the adrenaline.
“The phone? The phone has been disconnected for over three years, Chuck!” Bob said, shaking his head.
“Wait, are you telling me that you actually heard voices of children?” Aunt Kathy asked, looking pale.
“Yes, we all did,” Chuck stated.
“So,” Aunt Kathy said, turning to Uncle Bob, “maybe Mom wasn’t going crazy after all. Maybe we shouldn’t have doubted her. Maybe Mom really did hear children’s voices.”
“Now what do we do?” Bob asked, also looking pale.
“We go to bed,” I said, “and look at everything again in the morning. The spirits seem to be content in the house. We can let them be or I can try and get them to cross over. But for now … we sleep.”
Two small dark shadows looked out in the night over the family’s land, giggled mischievously, and vanished.
The haunting of the home in Minnesota was never solved, as Chuck’s aunt and uncle decided to just tear it down and lay the spirits to rest. Our whole family still talks of the experience with an unsettled feeling. Although the home is gone, that doesn’t necessarily mean that the spirits have crossed over.
[contents]
twenty-two
Amber Rose
My nights are filled with spirits and ghosts lining up to speak with me. Some nights I am successful in turning them down, but most nights I am the counselor to the dead. It was just a few months after Jessi’s case when another spirit visited me. Unlike the others, her energy had a sense of urgency.
“You can see me?”
The pretty girl stood next to my bed. I could hear Chuck snoring on the couch and voices from the television set. The baseball game that he had been watching probably ended several hours ago. I could just visualize him falling asleep sitting up, remote still grasped tightly in his hand. I rubbed my eyes to make certain that I wasn’t dreaming, yet even after I sat up in bed, the spirit still stood there. She had dirty blonde hair and some piercings and was wearing a pink T-shirt and worn-out jeans.
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