This case differed from most I get called in on.
Think of me more of like an exterminator – not that I’m exterminating ghosts, mind you – it’s just you don’t call an exterminator to take care of termites or fleas or spiders because you’ve seen one bug. No, it’s gotten to a point where your place is so infested with bugs that you need the assistance of a professional.
Same with a paranormal investigator. The rocking chair moves on its own? So what? You hear footsteps in the empty attic? Eh. You get pushed down the stairs and thrown out of your bed? Now you’re going to call me.
When the Richardsons called me they’d only had a few instances. Though, to be fair, they were doozies. It happened every year. On the 15th of August, from 12:01am until 11:59pm their house was a battlezone. Plates get thrown against walls; fridge erupts violently ejecting its contents all over the kitchen; Knives get hurled towards people – and that’s just in the kitchen. No room is spared: Bobby, the little boy, has all his toys strewn everywhere; Molly, the teen girl, gets her clothes thrown out of her closet, her make-up drawn all over the walls.
But the moment the clock strikes 12am and the calendar changes to the 16th? Quiet. And it remains quiet for 364 days a year. But August 15th? Pure hell.
When they called me as August 15th approached the case intrigued me. Poltergeist activity tends to be more continuous and usually centers around a person (most commonly a teenage girl – and Molly wisely spent the last August 15th at her friend’s house). So, it didn’t fit a traditional poltergeist, yet a ghost rarely has the ability to do more than, well, rock a chair or make footsteps in the attic. Actually messing a place up like the Richardson’s experienced? I couldn’t find anything similar.
I knocked on the door on the 13th of August.
David Richardson answered. “Hi, I’m the paranormal investigator, Eleanor Sully,” I introduced myself and held out my hand.
“Oh, right, of course,” he said shaking my hand. “I’m David. Please come in, meet the rest of the family.”
The house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac in a quiet neighborhood – no gothic castle here. Two stories, though the second was added after the house was built. No dank basement. I’d already gotten some information about the family members, but putting a face to a name is always enlightening. Amanda Richardson looked anxious – who wouldn’t be knowing what was coming in a few days? Bobby was precocious and had one baby tooth hanging on right in the front of his mouth – it was kind of adorable. And Molly rolled her eyes a lot and announced this year, like last, she’d be spending at Tiffany’s.
I wasn’t introduced to the 12-year old on sitting on the stairs. He saw that I saw him even though I was giving my full attention to my introduction to the Richardsons. Once that was complete though, I made a beeline to the stairs.
“And what’s your name.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said sullenly.
“It does to me.”
He looked hard at me for a minute as if making up his mind whether it really did (it did). “Eliot.”
“Hi Eliot,” I said. I could feel the astonished stares from the Richardsons in the next room. “You don’t seem very happy. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m a ghost, duh!” he said. While obvious, it actually was significant that he recognized he was a ghost.
“I see that. They don’t though, do they? Does that bother you?”
“Not usually,” he said.
“But…” I prompted. Then it occurred to me: “Let me guess: August 15th is your birthday, right?”
“And they don’t do a thing! When Bobby turned 8 last year they had a bouncy castle that had a ball pit!” Eliot yelled, pulling himself to standing with the banister. I heard a gasp and realized the Richardsons just saw the banister start to shake on its own. “Molly had a sleepover with all her friends – I didn’t scare any of those girls!”
“No?”
A devious smile appeared on his face, “Okay, I turned the sink on in the bathroom when that redheaded girl was in there. That was pretty funny,” he erupted into giggles.
“On the whole, that’s not too bad,” I said. “But on your birthday? You lose it?”
“I dropped hints all year. They’ve lived here for five years now and nothing.”
“Well, us living can be a little dense about those things.”
“Yeah, no kidding!” he sneered.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I started. “If we have a party for you on your birthday you won’t make a mess?”
“That’s all I want!”
“Done,” I said. “Any requests?”
“Banana cream pie!” He said at once.
“You can’t eat it, though.”
“Doesn’t matter!” He countered. “Balloons! Lots of them! Will they sing to me?”
“That can be arranged. Anything else?”
“Can we watch my favorite movies?”
“I don’t see why not. What are your favorite movies?”
“Star Wars!”
I thought for a moment. “Eliot, what’s the last Star Wars movie you saw?”
“My mom took me to Jedi in the theaters!” he said as his face fell. “That was right before we all died.”
“You know, Eliot, there’s new movies…”
“No way?!”
“Like a bunch. What do you think of a birthday movie marathon?”
“Oh my God, really?!”
“As long as you don’t break anything, we’ve got a deal.”
“Deal,” he said, spitting into his hand and holding it out to shake. I did likewise and tried not to close my hand too much – it’s awkward to close my hand over a ghost’s. “I’m so excited!” he said pogo-ing upstairs one step at a time. I heard the Richardsons startle and realized they’re hearing him on the stairs.
I turned to them and clasped my hands together. “So,” I started, “We have a party to plan…”
I’ll give this to them, The Richardsons seriously got into this. 12:01 on August 15th and Amanda had three types of popcorn ready as David hit play on “Solo: A Star Wars Story.”
“Oh, you’re doing the revised Machete order, I see,” I commented.
“You know your Star Wars,” he nodded appreciatively.
“Get comfortable, Eliot! You’re in for a treat today!” I said. He was in his place of honor they’d reserved for him on the couch.
“It’s my day!” he squealed with pure joy.
And it went on all day: “Solo” to “Rogue One” to “A New Hope” and “Empire” before David jumped back to “Phantom Menace.” All the while Amanda kept the snacks coming. Star wars pancakes once the sun came up. And Eliot got his banana cream pie and everyone – Molly stayed home – sang him happy birthday.
I left around ten that night.
“You’re going?” Eliot asked.
“You’re going?” Amanda asked.
“It’s been a fun day,” I said.
“Right?!” Eliot agreed.
“But I’ve got a wild haunting consult tomorrow. Happy birthday, Eliot!”
Eliot jumped up and hugged me. I actually felt him hug.
I squatted down to his level, “You know, Eliot, if you see a bright light you can always cross over. Your mom and dad are probably waiting for you.”
“It showed up around noon.”
“Oh?”
“David said ‘Rise of Skywalker’ is as good as ‘Empire!’ It’s on next! I’ll go after that. Think mom will be mad?”
“No, Eliot, I think she’ll be excited to hear about your last birthday party.”
He grinned and ran back to the couch as I let myself out.
