Haunting of Jones-Keas house
When you move into a new home, youíre preoccupied with a bunch of general stressors: moving the boxes, unpacking the boxes and finding someone to take all the broken-down boxes that now reside on your back deck. It mostly has to do with boxes. At least, thatís what I thought the first few months after moving in.
Seven months passed and we got comfortable. Gideon created his own storage system downstairs. I purchased a steam mop. Everything was going swimmingly. Then one night in April, Gideon awoke to a light streaming down the stairs. This part was relayed to me after the fact, as I was dead asleep when it happened.
He quietly climbed the stairs to discover the television blaring. It was Forensic Files, our default channel on Samsung TV. After a quick check of the upstairs area, Gideon determined the house was secure. He turned the television off and went back to sleep.
Hereís a fun pop quiz. Did he immediately tell me about the television turning on in the middle of the night? No, he did not. In fact, he continued to keep it a secret as the same incident occurred several times over the next few months.
He later said he assumed our house was haunted and it had to be a friendly ghost who missed watching television, so it wasnít a big deal. ďWhat Sam doesnít know canít hurt her,Ē he was surely thinking.
He thought wrong.
See, Iím a huge scaredy cat. I donít believe in paranormal activity, because I know Iíd be scared all the time if I did. I have never attended a ghost tour at the Crescent Hotel. I refuse to enter haunted houses, even the wholesome ones put on by churches and elementary schools. How can that be? Arenít I a self-professed horror movie freak?
Yes, I am. I love the horror genre ó†from the comfort of the couch or the movie theater, knowing Iím in a controlled environment where no one can get me.
Any other time, I hate being scared. Gideon announces himself when he enters the room so I donít scream bloody murder. Every little thing scares me silly. This is probably why Gideon didnít tell me about our ghost.
Instead, I found out myself. It was 2 a.m. and I couldnít sleep. I turned to the side, opened my eyes and realized it was too bright. Blue light encapsulated the stairs and the hallway. I froze in place.
ďGideon, wake up. Wake up. Wake up! Someone is inside the house. Wake up!Ē
It was said in the quietest whisper ó what if the intruder was nearby?
Gideon yawned and said heíd go check it out. I heard his footsteps up the stairs and saw the light disappear. He returned to bed and said no one was in the house. ďItís just our ghost.Ē
Just our ghost? Just our ghost?! Itís safe to say I didnít sleep at all that night.
Weeks passed and the ghost stayed away. I started sleeping soundly again. Then, on a cold night last week, Gideon awoke to the same blue light. He got up for his regular routine: go up the stairs, turn off the TV and come back to bed.
But when he got upstairs, he saw our orange tabby cat Aramis sitting on the couch, eyes affixed to the TV screen. His paw rested firmly on the remote control. When Gideon turned the TV off, Aramis gave him the stinkiest of stink faces.
So there you have it, folks. Our house is haunted, but the ghost is easily defeated by placing the remote control on a high shelf every night. To this day, they say you can still hear his high-pitched meow as he paces the living room, longing for another riveting episode of Forensic Files.