Part 15 (2/2)
As a group we walked into the kitchen and took a seat.
David, his hand flat on the table, leaned over and said in a low voice, ”I've had a few accidents here myself. I was on the stepladder fixing the trim against the ceiling, when out of nowhere someone unseen lifted the ladder and yanked it out from under me. I ended up with bruises and a fractured rib. Then, there are times I've woken up drenched, as if someone has poured a bucket of water on me.” Still standing, he pushed away from the table, did an about-face and walked over to a well-lit room adjacent to the kitchen. The only room that we had yet to investigate. ”There's more.” He gestured with his hand for us to follow him. ”Come here,” he said. ”I want to show you guys something.”
Our morbid curiosity piqued, we followed him.
”One weekend I came to the house alone. I had way too much work to do, and Paula wasn't able to make it. So, after a long day of laboring, just before bed, I came down to the kitchen to get myself a drink and decided to use this bathroom, instead of the upstairs one.”
I watched David's eyes glaze over as if he was looking at the bathroom, but not truly seeing it. As he began to retell the events of that night, his previously relaxed stance became rigid, guarded. ”Well, I was sitting on the toilet, when the door began to open by itself.” His smile turned into a grimace. ”At first I was stunned, and then I got mad. I probably said some things I shouldn't have.”
”Like what?” I asked.
Attempting to hide his embarra.s.sment, he looked away momentarily. He gathered his thoughts and said, ”I called them perverts!”
”Then what?”
”Then this.” He stepped aside and let us take a look. There on the floor was a toilet bowl sheared in half. Well, not really in half. As I looked more closely I noticed that not a drop of water from the bowl had spilled. The only thing that kept the water from pouring forth and onto the floor was a sliver of porcelain, no thicker than that of a dollar bill standing on edge.
”Wow, that would be tough to pull off,” Ron said.
”You didn't get hurt, did you?” I asked.
”No. It happened after I went upstairs to bed. I heard a loud bang, and when I went to investigate the source, that's when I found it.”
Even though David's emotions were hard to read, I felt a swift, sudden onset of fear, and it triggered something in me. Just then an image of David being tipped over on excavating equipment popped into the forefront of my mind. ”David, you also had an accident in the backyard, didn't you?”
”Yes. But how do you know?” He paused. ”It scared the h.e.l.l out of me, so I had some of my guys pack up the machines and drive them away.”
”Was it a Kubota?”
”Yeah,” he rubbed his chin as in deep thought, ”how did you know that?”
I had no good answer for him, so I told him the truth. ”I have no idea. It just popped into my head.”
”Interesting,” he said. ”One minute I'm on the Kubota, the next, I'm tipped sideways.” He said in excitement, ”I had to jump out of the way or risk being crushed.”
”David, that's sounds so terrifying. Thank G.o.d you're all right,” I said.
”Maureen, Ron told Paula about a blessing she could do on the house. Do you know of a protection that I can use for traveling? These incidents have me a little on edge.”
As coincidence would have it, prior to leaving for the day, I'd jotted down a few prayers of protection. One of them was for traveling. I dug into my pocketbook and handed him the prayer: In the name of G.o.d I go on this journey.May G.o.d the Father be with me,G.o.d the Son protect me, andG.o.d the Holy Ghost be by my side.Whoever is stronger than these three personsMay approach my body and my life; yetWhoso is not stronger than these threeWould much better let me be!
The grandfather clock chimed three times. With a two-hour ride back, it was time to go. As we left, we gave David and Paula the tools to protect themselves. We hoped that our investigation had answered some of their questions as to why their dream house had become a nightmare. And for now, our job was done.
RESULTS OF THE INVESTIGATION.
This is one case where history and the paranormal go hand in hand. Our research showed us that the presence of the elderly woman could be attributed to the house once being a nursing home. And perhaps more dramatically, we later discovered that this area was the scene of several Indian raids in which settlers' houses were burned and families ma.s.sacred. Was this the tragic event that Maureen relived in the secret room?Since our investigation David and Paula have split up. His behavior at the house became more and more not his own, yet he failed to recognize it. He refused help, and now the dream house sits vacant.
episode twelve
THE SPECTRAL HITCHHIKER.
CASE FILE: 6348765.
SPECTRAL HITCHHIKER.
Locations: America's Stonehenge, Salem, New Hamps.h.i.+re; Route 28, Salem, New Hamps.h.i.+re; and Methuen, Ma.s.sachusetts.History: Shrouded in mystery, America's Stonehenge is a maze of stonewalls punctuated with chambers. At four thousand years old, America's Stonehenge is one of the oldest megalithic sites in North America.Reported Paranormal Activity: Sounds of drums and chanting echoing in the night, unexplained lights, blue mist, and shooting orbs.Clients: N/AInvestigators: Ron (lead investigator), Maureen (trance medium).
Ron and I pulled out of the parking lot of America's Stonehenge.
”Well, that was pretty mundane, ghost hunting in the afternoon. But at least we got the podcast done,” Ron said, referring to our latest iTunes adventure. ”Other than that one spirit who dogged us all afternoon, there really wasn't that much happening.”
”Yeah, but he was pretty strong. Remember when we were standing around the sacrificial table? It was all I could do to not channel him.”
”Well, why didn't you? Isn't that what we were here for?” Ron asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.
”Easy for you to say. I have free will like everyone else. The last thing I want to do is channel someone as nasty as that spirit. A Native American that sacrificed people by cutting their hearts out.”
”And you know this how?”
I knew, like always, Ron was just trying to rile me up. ”I know, because when we were standing by that big flat rock, the one with the groove carved around the edge to drain the blood, I had a quick glimpse of the spirit as he tore someone's heart out. It made me sick. I could feel his pleasure in the task.”
A photo of the sacrificial altar at America's Stonehenge. Notice the groove in the stone used to drain the blood of the victims.
Suddenly, a tingle in my third eye caught me off guard. I pressed my finger to my forehead. ”Hey, Ron, I'm feeling strange.”
”Yeah, but when don't you?”
”No, I really mean it.” I turned to look around, having the odd sensation that we were not alone. ”Maybe I should have blessed the car. I think the spirit followed us.”
”I don't think so. Come on,” Ron said, denying the possibilities.
I heard the vague, familiar sound of rhythmic beeping over the music and Ron grumbling. ”Shhh,” I said, as I turned the radio down. The EMF meter in Ron's pocket had sprung to life.
”Oh, that's just the wires,” Ron said, pointing to the telephone poles above our heads as we waited to turn onto Route 28.
But the energy pulsated in my third eye, making it challenging to concentrate on the road. And as we drove away from the wires and the EMF meter kept beeping, I said, ”Wires, huh, Ron?”
”Well. Okay. Maybe not.”
”Are you recording this?”
”I am now,” Ron said, as he pressed the b.u.t.ton on the digital recorder. ”We're on our way home in Maureen's car. Who, by the way, didn't put any protection on it. And guess what's going on in my pocket?” Ron said as he held the microphone closer to his pocket, catching the incessant beeping of the EMF meter.
<script>