She would not have noticed the elderly gentleman staring at her from behind if at first her skin didn’t suddenly get taught as hairs stood on end. First, it was her arms, then the back of her nape. As she turned for a better view, he simply vanished. Yet, deep within, she knew she was being watched, and watched often.
He would not have had any terrible nightmares of evil itself threatening his sons, if their apartment were not haunted. She told him on occasion that he spoke while sleeping. Terrible words, urging un-good to go away, to get away from him and his family. He was attacked in his sleep at least once every three months.
She was a sensory, empathic, loving and kind woman. She was, perhaps, too good for him. And he was surprised they had stayed together for as long as they had. They meshed. They laughed. They fit together in a corny, yet loving way. She was down to Earth, easy to speak to, and caring about everyone important to her. A beautiful soul.
He was rugged, unrefined, unfocused, yet on occasion, he saw the signs amidst the forest of noise and distraction popping up in the world around him, speaking only to him. License plates, bus numbers, Lotto numbers, they all conveyed a special message. He saw these and did what he could to take notice, absorb, comprehend, and meditate.
His kids’ dog, an intrepid Tibetan Spaniel, paid them a visit once. After everyone left for the morning, she noticed the canine staring at one particular point inside the kitchen, hairs on end, fearful and daring not to set paw within. She noticed this and said, “Yes, you see the old man too, right?” The dog stared at the kitchen, turned its head towards her then stared back to the kitchen with eyes focused at the same point — a rare occasion for this canine accustomed to taking advantage of any cool linoleum kitchen floor.
They talked for hours. Wondering if the old entity was pissed off towards everyone or just women in particular. If he owned the cat whose nasty old urine still stains the corners of the anciently warped floorboards. If he was in a wheelchair since the foyer closet had a wooden ramp for easy entry. She voiced her concerns.
He told her calmly, “Hey, this old man may be angry, but he’s not mad at you. Maybe he is pissed off because of the way his life ended. He is still bitter and just hanging around for something to make sense.” She replied, “Yeah, I know he isn’t angry at me, but he is really angry.”
A month or two later, he had another nightmare. This time it carried forth with a full onslaught of epic proportion. Inside the dream, he recalled his earlier conversation with her. This time during the ordeal, he yelled loudly in his dream, loud enough that she, too, was awoken from her slumber. He faced the old spirit who threatened his family and declared, “You’re dead! Leave us alone and get the hell out of here!”
The ghost never showed up again. He was able to sleep well for the last couple of months they were in that apartment. They happily moved out. Hopefully, forever never to be haunted.
(First published on October 9th, 2015, at Nando's Notes website. From the Nando Miranda Archives located within the vaults of the Nando Miranda Museum of Natural History & Memorabilia.)
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