A Dog, A Cat, and A Ghost

My grandmother, like most of her friends, was interested in the paranormal. One of those friends was a stooped, white-haired, lady by the name of Hannah. A widow of many years, Hannah freely talked of sharing her Carmel Valley home with a cat, a dog, and two ghosts. She called them Pete and Polly and believed they were the spirits of long dead childhood pals. The ghosts were most helpful about reminding the forgetful old woman to take her daily medications. And so she happily co-existed with the spirits who resided in the cozy little home far from the coastal fog.

But just as there are people who make themselves difficult to get along with, there are ghosts who choose to be nuisances. I'm reminded of the ghost who made one home anything but welcoming. The owner was a young man who had worked long hours and saved every dime just to purchase his dream home. Nothing that would ever grace the cover of a decorator's magazine, the home was his, nonetheless. With great pride he moved in. And as he gave his family and friends a quick tour through the small condo, he explained every improvement he planned on making just as soon as he was financially able.

Within a month, he was ready to move out. There were just too many odd things going on. Some nights he would just be drifting off to sleep when the stereo would come on full blast. Unplugging it didn't always work. No amount of coaxing could get his cat to go into the bedroom. At the doorway, the animal would arch its back and hiss at something unseen, then turn and run down the hall. Early in the evenings the terrible odor of burning food would often permeate the condo, and open windows or not, the smell would not go away.

His neighbors must be the worst cooks in the world he rationalized. But it didn’t take long for him to discover that most of them worked swing shift and weren't even home when the smells occurred.

No wonder I got such a good price on this place, he told himself one night as he dropped off to sleep. An hour later he was awakened to what sounded like someone banging on the refrigerator. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen but it was empty. When he turned to walk down the hall and the noise started again. But this time it was rhythmic as if someone was trying to pound out the beat of a song. .

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