Cathy was sitting across from me and my
spaghetti and garlic bread. I had worked a ten hour day and was hungry and tired. Though I
knew anything she had to tell me would go in one ear and out the other, I said I would
meet her at the restaurant so we could discuss her "problem."
"Things move around in my apartment,"
she started.
"Do you mind if I eat while you talk?" I asked.
"No, not at all," she said, looking at my
spaghetti.
"Are you sure?"
"No. Please, eat your spaghetti," she said.
I took a bite of my garlic bread. It had lots of garlic--the way
I liked it.
"You see, it all started after that party with the
Davidson's. You know, the boring man and her wife Dolores."
I nodded.
"Yes, you conveniently got into a car accident that
night--I remember," she added.
"It was hardly just a car accident," I said
defensively with a mouthful of spaghetti, "it was a major accident. I ran into a
full-sized truck with my boyfriend's new car."
"Well, whatever," she continued. "Anyway, Jake
brought over his Ouija Board. You remember Jake?"
"Yeah, he owns a Porsche."
"Yeah. Anyway, we started playing with that Ouija Board. At
first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, somebody asked the board something about Chopin and
the thing went nuts."
I nodded, "The ghost or spirit or whatever likes
Chopin."
"Yes, and so somebody thought we should turn on some
Chopin."
"Do you listen to Chopin?" I asked taking another bite
of my Garlic Bread.
"No, but Joel Davidson does and he just happened to have a
cassette out in his car, so we played it."
"Then what happened?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"No, but it gets worse."
"I should hope so."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Look. I'm tired and hungry and you want to sit and discuss
your unsuccessful turn at a Ouija Board."
"That's not the only thing that happened."
"Then tell me."
"Nothing else happened that night and in fact, nothing
happened for the next three days. Then, on the fourth day after the party I was getting
ready for a date with John. I was cleaning up my apartment when I found Joel's tape still
in the tape player. I turned it on to listen to some music while I was cleaning the
apartment and all of a sudden a book started to float towards me."
"Did you say a book?"
"Yes, and the funny thing about it was that I don't
remember ever buying or receiving the book before this. In fact, it was completely
unfamiliar to me."
"Maybe somebody left it there."
"I asked around and nobody says they even dabble in
witchcraft."
"Is that what the book is about?"
"Yes. Three Spells of Witchcraft for the Forlorn is
the title."
"Hah," I said out loud.
"This isn't funny." She looked at me seriously.
"This thing was floating in mid-air. It gave me the fright of my life."
I guess I should mention a few things about my friend Cathy
Write. She was my friend from childhood. She is always serious. She rarely laughs and to
tell the truth, I think, at times, she can be just a bit scatterbrained, or may be a
little bit crazy after she met her current boyfriend. But she rarely lied, so I had no
doubt that she believed what she saw.
"Sorry Cathy. Go on with your story."
"Well, anyway, that was when it all started. Things started
to disappear in one room, then appear in another room. Doors would open and shut by
themselves. Faucets and lights would turn on and off by themselves. I haven't slept a
decent night's sleep since then."
"Sounds like a poltergeist-type of haunting."
"I knew you would know what to do," she said.
She was almost right. I knew what it was because I had a fetish
for ghost stories--true and otherwise. I have been interested in ghosts since I was four.
I had done a considerable amount of reading about ghosts and the occult since then.
However, just because I knew what type of problem she was having
did not mean I knew how to get rid of it. The only known cure for poltergeist activity I
knew of was exorcism.
"I think maybe I need to check it out myself. Then, our
next step would be to contact a psychic or someone who specializes in paranormal
activities."
"I knew I could count on you."
I finished my dinner and we walked back to her place, which
wasn't far from the restaurant. I wasn't really all that eager to meet a ghost
face-to-face -- especially one that had a penchant for throwing things around the room,
but I figured that if I had that sort of problem, I would want help myself. I had never
seen a ghost before so I wasn't sure how well I would be able to handle it.
When we got to her house I became aware of the amount of garlic
that was on the garlic bread at dinner. The taste had stuck with me the entire way to
Cathy's apartment.
When we entered her apartment I noticed that several things had
been thrown around. This could have been caused by Cathy herself since she was not a neat
homemaker.
We entered the living room and found some of the furniture moved
around. I helped Cathy move the pieces back to their proper positions and sat on the
couch.
"Well, here is the book." She said handing me the
book.
"Ah, the Three Spells of Witchcraft for the Forlorn.
You haven't tried any of these have you?"
She looked surprised, then said, "Of course
not."
"Good. Then we shouldn't have to worry about
it."
"Why would we worry?"
"You start doing incantations, you don't know what you are
going to get yourself into," I said, then added, "Has most of the activity been
in this room?"
"Yes."
"Hmm. We'll just have to wait and see what
happens."
"You mean we have to sit and wait?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
I saw nothing that night. Sure there were a few noises, but they
could all be accounted to next door neighbors or the outside noises. Several times, Cathy
got up nervously and paced the floor, but nothing happened.
I even checked all the faucets, but still nothing
happened.
In the morning, I woke to find Cathy slumbering next to me on
the sofa. Neither one of us had any paranormal experience.
I told Cathy that I would be back later that night and we could
try it again.
"Order a pizza, would you?" I said. If I was going to
babysit I figured I would at least get a meal out of it.
"Sure. What kind."
"Anything that's really spicy."
"Sure."
The next night, over pizza, Cathy and I discussed things like
ghosts and witchcraft. I tried to steer the subject clear of it because I didn't want to
make her anymore nervous than she already was. But she kept going back to the
subject.
"You know, I almost think I must have been crazy. You have
spent one night here and again attempting another and still nothing has happened. It is
almost too good to be true," she said loudly as if trying to get someone's
attention.
Nothing happened that night.
"I don't understand," she said confused. "Just
two days ago things were moving around by themselves. You saw the mess in the living room.
I don't understand."
"Sometimes they just go away."
"Do they?"
"Sure. They get tired of a spot and just move
on."
"Really? So you think this one might have just moved
on?"
"Sure."
I left Cathy relieved the next morning. I seemed to have calmed
her nerves.
However, that wasn't the end of it. That night I got a call
about eight o'clock.
"Joy, come quickly." Cathy sounded aggravated.
"What is it?"
"It's the dishwasher."
"Did it spring a leak?"
"No, it's attacking me."
Sure enough when I arrived, there was the dishwasher with the
hose that hooked up to the sink wrapped around Cathy's arm. However, once I entered the
room, it stopped. I thought that Cathy was doing it to herself. I watched the hose
disengaged Cathy's arm and slink down to the floor.
"Ahhhhh!" Cathy screamed. She dropped the spatula she
had been using to fend off the dishwasher and ran from the kitchen into her bedroom.
I moved the dishwasher back to its usual position, picked the
spatula off of the floor and threw it in the sink.
I went into Cathy's bedroom and found her hiding in her bed with
the blankets pulled up over her head.
I sat down at the foot of her bed. "Cathy, I think you need
help."
She peeped out over the covers. "What!? What was that you
just saw? That machine was attacking me."
"Cathy, I saw a woman using a machine to attack
herself."
"No, you... You must be doing it. It stopped when you came
in." She threw the blankets to the floor in a fit of frustration. "How would you
like it if an inanimate object came to life and started attacking you? You'd be singing
another tune, I'm sure."
"All right, Cathy," I said calmly, "I'm not going
to argue with you."
"Good," she said satisfied.
"But I have to tell you, I really am having a hard time
believing that you are not responsible for this in some way."
"You think I'm joking, don't you? You think this is some
sort of trick."
"Maybe. "
"It's not me." Cathy said steadily.
I couldn't stay with Cathy that night, so I asked a mutual
friend to stay with her. Dan Smith was an old plumber in his fifties, and though he didn't
specialize in dishwashers, I figured he would at least know what to do with one when it
went berserk. Cathy calmed down when I told her she wouldn't be alone.
"Good. I don't think whatever it is likes me. It keeps
coming back when I'm alone."
I didn't hear from Cathy again until two days later. She had
more trouble after the dishwasher episode and this time, she had witnesses.
"After you left and Dan came in, the chair by the sofa
moved all the way up the wall and onto the ceiling. Then it fell right in the middle of
the room!" she relayed to me over the phone.
"Dan saw this?" I asked.
"Yes, and then the entire entertainment center fell over.
It broke the television set."
"Dan saw that too?"
"Yes."
"Geez, Cathy. I didn't think you had a problem."
"Well, you almost convinced me that I didn't. I almost
believed you when you told me I was going crazy."
"I'm sorry."
"Dan was not the only one who saw it. George and Martha
came over yesterday and they were attacked by the coffee machine."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You may not have seen anything but other
people have. Can you please arrange someone to come here and do an exorcism for
me."
Of course I arranged for a local part-time psychic to come see
the house the next day during lunch break. She brought a medium with her and they looked
over the apartment. They sensed a presence but it was very weak.
"Perhaps we should have a seance," the medium
suggested.
We all sat down around a table as the medium instructed, but
nothing happened.
Then, the psychic turned to me, "Could you please leave the
apartment?"
"Why?"
"Your presence here is not wanted."
When I left I listened at the door of the apartment. From what
it sounded like, all hell broke loose. I heard furniture moving, things hitting or falling
off of walls, people yelling, and then finally, silence.
I stood at the door listening. I heard someone walk to the
door.
Cathy opened it. She looked like she had been hit by a
full-sized truck.
"They say this house is clean."
I walked into the apartment and my ears were correct. Things had
fallen off the walls and furniture had been moved around.
The psychic and the medium looked as Cathy was, only
worse.
"All that time, the ghost didn't like me?" I
asked.
"Probably for the same reason I asked you to leave,"
the psychic answered.
"What was that?" I asked.
"You reek of garlic. Ghosts don't like garlic and neither
do I," she said.
Cathy added, "She's right, you do."
I checked my breath, but to no avail. Years and years of garlic
consumption had deadened my sense of smell to it.
"So it was a ghost then?" I asked trying to change the
subject.
"No, more like an entity, but with the same type of
aversions. Apparently, Miss Write has been playing with witchcraft, haven't you Miss
Write?"
"Well..."
"What?" I asked.
"I found the book on top of a cupboard."
"I told you not to mess with that stuff."
"It was too late. I already did it," Cathy said
sheepishly.
"That's what caused all this?"
"Apparently."
"Well, Miss Write, the bill is in the mail." the
psychic said. "I don't think you should be having anymore problems, but just in case,
here's my number."
She handed Cathy her card and left with the medium.
I stood somewhat dumbfounded.
Cathy looked around the room then asked, "How about a
pizza?"
"Really spicy?"
"With lots of garlic."
[END]
