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The Pet Ghost: Part 3

  • Updated: July 15, 2021

By Nandy Ekle
Part 3

“He said he wasn’t. He showed me exactly where they walked and he pointed out a scuff mark he saw after the shoes stopped.”
“Why didn’t you kids ever say anything?”
“Well, you and Dad were fighting a lot and we didn’t want to make things worse.”


That part was true. I turned the conversation to apologies for all of that.


“Oh! Mom, I have to go. Maddie just marked on the sofa with a permanent marker.”
The line went dead and I pushed the off button on the phone. I never noticed anything weird happen in the house when the kids were little, but maybe, like Donna pointed out, I was absorbed with my own problems during that time. I had gone back to college and my marriage had become intense.


However those stories were interesting and if the occasion came up, I thought I could work them in nicely.
All through the next few weeks I did have a steady stream of phone calls and a few visitors, just like I thought might happen. One woman, claiming to be a psychic, stayed for supper. Ghostly hands served the meal and she was very happy.


“My dear, I sense that this is a very loving presence. And I love that you are so comfortable with it.” She tried to chat with my ghost who remained stubbornly quiet.

“Channel Twelve News, Leslie Brite speaking.”

“Yes, Ms. Brite. What can I do for you?” I turned away from the business account I had been working on. One of the great perks of being somewhat fluent with computers was being able to work from home.


“We have learned that you live in an actual haunted house and I want to interview you, maybe walk through the house with a live camera on Halloween.”


So, my little prank had gone this far. “Well, I don’t know, Ms. Brite. I’m kind of a private person.”
“It would be such a fun Halloween story. I understand that this ghost is really quite pleasant. Why not share it with the rest of the city?”


I was glad she couldn’t see me pinch myself to keep from laughing at her. “Well, I suppose it would like a little company. Okay, I’ll do it.” We talked a little longer and made the preparations.


How long could I keep this going? I didn’t know, but I would enjoy it as long as it lasted.


Two days before Halloween Leslie Brite called back with a new development. She had invited a psychic to attend the walk through, and at 11:30 Halloween night, he would conduct a séance. She didn’t ask my permission, simply told me what would happen.


Of course, I agreed, sipping some extra hot coffee to keep from laughing. “There was a psychic here before,” I said. “She thought the spirit here felt very loving, happy, and comfortable.”


“We’ll see if Dr. Simon feels the same positive energy.” We ended the call and I went back to work on my accounts.

The evening of October 31 came and my doorbell rang. I wore a pair of black jeans and a black sweater set in keeping with the mood. Ms. Brite came in with a nice looking man, fifty-ish, and the cameraman and light man tagged along behind her. I suddenly had the idea that my house might be a little small for an entire crew.


“Ms. Mason –” she began.
“Dora. Call me Dora.”
Leslie and the gentleman smiled. “Dora. This is Dr. Barry Simon. He’s the psychic who will be holding the séance tonight.”


I held out my hand, a little apprehensive that I had to put on this show for him. He was a nice looking man and I felt a small amount of color rise to my cheeks. If only we could have met somewhere else . . .
“Good to meet you, Dr. Simon.”


“Good to meet you, too. Please, call me Barry.” His voice was quiet.
Leslie introduced a young woman who followed her around taking notes on a steno pad. Her name was Emily and she had a Bluetooth phone in her ear listening to the rest of the crew sitting in a van in my driveway. The cameraman began setting up and Leslie looked at Emily’s notes. Barry walked around eyeing my little knick-knacks as if he searched for something specific. A couple of times I caught him gazing at me and then turning back to whatever he was examining on the shelf. I wondered what he thought of me.


While the camera crew set up and tested their equipment, Leslie sat in the chair across from me where David had been sitting when this whole thing started.


“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“A little fluttery, but not too bad.”


She smiled. The sound guy added microphone buttons to our necklines, then he went out to the van. “What I’ll do here is ask a few questions about your experiences, then you’ll take us on a tour. If you see or hear anything while we’re here, please point it out to us.”


“That will be easy. And it probably won’t take very long to walk through this house.”


Leslie’s mouth turned in a stilted smile. “Yes.” The cameraman held up three fingers. He lowered each finger as if counting down, then he pointed his index finger at Leslie and the brightest light I ever saw came on above us. It radiated enough heat to roast a turkey. She looked directly into the camera on the man’s shoulder and began talking.
“Good evening. I’m Leslie Brite. Here on this dark and spooky Halloween night I’m in the city’s most famous haunted house. With me is the owner of the house, Dora Mason.” She turned her face toward me. “Ms. Mason, is it true you share your home with a ghost?”

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