The Ghost of Mill's Past (Part II)...July 25, 1999

The Ghost of Mill's Past (Part II)...July 25, 1999

.....As I write this evening, it storms outside, as it has most of the day since the wee hours of the morning. I awoke at 4:00am with a start, to the roaring crash of thunder and the blinding flash of lightening. The ligntening was so frequent so as to give my room the facade of daytime, and in my muddled half-sleeping state, I thought to myself that the power must have flickered out, this cannot be the correct time. My thoughts were incoherent, my vision a blur, and it took a few moments to orient myself to being awake. It was then I heard the torrent of rain and saw that indeed it was still night time. With this now crystal clear stimuli came the realization that perhaps I neglected to roll the windows of my car up.

Staggering downstairs as I pulled on a second skin of clothing, I crawled to the door amidst hyper-active puppies regaling in the prospect of going outside so early, so divergent from usual routine. So excited they were to romp in the pre-morning falling rain and dewey grass, I actually had to bark an order to shoo them away from the door so that it may be opened. Once they reluctantly made a clear path, I was able to pull the door wide. Not being able to see my car through the blowing downpour, I slipped on my sandals and exited my house to brave nature's elements. Reekie and Moo were in tow. They typically have an attitude of wanting to protect me when we are outside together. One clap of thunder right over their furry heads, and they were scampering to my feet. Through their cries, whimpers, and paw shaking, the translation of which is "let us back in, let us back in", I managed to ascertain that indeed, my car windows were wide open. It must have been raining a long time, for my seats were soaked, as was the inside of the doors, the dash, and the instrument panel. By the time I secured the car, I was soaked, too. Such was my greeting to this fine day. Nevertheless, despite being wide awake, I was able to return to sleep rather swiftly, probably because I was blanketed in the comfort of two "tuffy" canines in rare need of some security.

It has continued to storm on and off most of the day. As the light fades, I am once again more cognisant of nature's flashes outside, while the accompanying roar has been ever present since I re-awoke this morning. Not coincidentally, it is days like this that I cannot help but ponder the haunting presence in my house.

I nicknamed her "Maude" for as much as she refuses to articulate her real name as the nickname itself conjures qualities of her character that she has been more than willing to share: elderly, cantankerous, prankster. She makes for great dinner conversation, provided I am visiting someone else, and they are not forced to visit me. I am getting quite a reputation in my circle of friends as "the one who lives in a ghost house". Had not many of these same friends experienced Maude themselves, I may be fighting forced committal. It was The Goddess that first brought Maude to my attention, and it is when The Goddess is around that Maude makes her presence most frequently known.

I took over this house from Lowlandz and his family when they moved to a place they bought for themselves. Having visited them quite frequently here, especially during my separation, I never once got the feeling that a redisual energy was here. Perhaps Maude was biding her time, or perhaps she did not want to scare Lowlandz's young daughter. Nevertheless, she made her presence known the very day I was moving furniture in. The Goddess, who was helping me carry something upstairs, asked me if I had ever experienced a presence here before. I answered no. She is much more tuned in to these things. She was feeling an unknown energy in the stairway, but we were too distracted with the move to pay much attention to it. Through the course of that visit, we were too much in love and lust and reveling in having our own place to follow up on it. Nevertheless, as the weeks went by, I came to experience just exactly what The Goddess was talking about.

At first, Maude would just hover in whichever room I occupied. I could feel her in the form of ice cold air, regardless of the temperature outside or in. Usually, this chilling air was accompanied by disconcertion from Reekie, who would pace, whine, stare at seemingly nothing, and subsequently leave...fast. Then came the footsteps in the hall, and the tapping on the walls, any time of day, any time of night. At first I thought it may be sound coming from the other half of the duplex, until the footsteps and tapping occured when my neighbours were not home.

Maude solidified her presence during the next visit with The Goddess. Her noises were frequent. The Goddess was becoming upset. Having lived with trapped spirits before, she had no interest in repeating the process. We becan talking about ways we could release her. Then, out of the blue, Maude says to me,

"She (The Goddess) thinks she knows everything!".

I began seriously considering The Goddess' desire to help Maude cross over. I was not willing to entertain listening to Maude speaking to me for any extended period of time. However, she stopped talking. I tried to find out who she was, why she was still here, but she would not speak. As spontaneously as she made this single declaration, she would say no more. She would say no more to me, at any rate. The footsteps and tapping continued, though. So did the hovering, especially when The Goddess was here. However, as her presence was merely a novel nuisance, I decided to wait before attempting any kind of exorcism.

I started to burn sage as a means of marking my territory and spelling out for Maude just what my boundaries were. The hovering discontinued, the footsteps and tapping became less frequent. This worked only temporarily, though, and seemed to anger the ghost more than anything else. I had no idea just what Maude's capacity for haunting was, but was to soon find out.......

....Blessed Be