31 Ghosts 2019: October 3 – Remodeling, part 2

Photo by Patrick Pellegrini on Unsplash

Part 2 of 2! We pick up with David and Daniel and a pissed off house ghost…

“My laptop is dead,” Daniel said. “I plugged it in last night, it was supposedly charging all night…”

“That’s weird. You don’t think it’s related to…”

“To my charging cable?” Daniel stopped David from going down that well-trodden track. “Yes, David, that must be it,” he said giving David a look to halt further discussion. “Is your cord in the office? Can you grab it?”

David sighed. “Sure. Yes. Absolutely.” He crossed to the office doorway and let out a scream.

“What?!”

David had retreated back across the family room. “Rattlesnake!”

“What the hell?”

“In there!” David pointed to the office. “Fucker is coiled and , and…” he shook his fist.

“Rattling?”

“Yes! What do we do?!” he sat heavily on the leather couch and reached for a throw pillow as a shield.

Daniel strode across the floor to the door.

“Daniel, no!”

“Nothing,” he said looking into the room. “There’s nothing in here.”

“What if it’s hiding. Daniel! Don’t go in–“ but it was too late. Daniel disappeared inside the room. David clutched the pillow tightly.

“No snake,” Daniel said as he came out, annoyance plain on his face. “Except for this,” he shook the snarled laptop charging cable. “Would it kill you to wind a cable up?”

“Daniel, there was a snake in there.”

“David…”

“And this morning the water in the bathroom turned on by itself. And last night that picture your niece painted fell off the wall. And the day before that…”

“David, enough!”

“Daniel, you almost died Monday night.”

Daniel sat down on the couch. “I didn’t die. My CPAP machine malfunctioned. There was a tremor the other night. The sink is ancient. And the snake… your imagination,” he said calmly, putting his arm around David.

David rested his head against Daniel’s chest. “I didn’t make that up, Daniel. We angered the–“

“Don’t say it, David.”

“You can’t pretend this is all coincidence.”

“You’re right.”

David picked his head up and looked quizzically at Daniel.

“You’re right,” he said and abruptly stood up. He cleared his throat dramatically. “Okay ghost, we know you’re here,” he called loudly.

“Domovoi.”

“Okay, Domovoi?” he looked at David who nodded. “We know you’re here. But this is our house now, not yours. You can’t scare us!”

“No!” David said. “That’s just it, it’s our house, but it’s his too. He’s angry we’re disturbing it.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Domovoi, I misspoke. Yes, it’s our house, but it’s your house too. Certainly we can get along, okay?” He looked around the room as if expecting an answer.

“We’re sorry about the renovation!” David called into the silence.

“Uh, sure,” Daniel agreed. “But we’re still finishing it,” he said looking pointedly at David.

“As long as you’re okay with that, Domovoi!” David amended.

“David?” Daniel whispered. “What are you doing? We’re not going to stop the remodel…”

“No, sure,” David whispered back. “But the Domovoi has to feel a part of this.”

“A part of it?” Daniel whispered back. “How do we do that?”

“There’s…” he waved his hands wildly, “Some ritual or something.”

Daniel mimicked David’s wild gesticulation. “Is this the international gesture for ‘ritual’?”

David scowled at him.

“Look, Domovoi, we’re all in this together. Can we work together?”

The front door exploded inward as a torrent of wind howled through the doorway with a roar, blasting David and Daniel. The wind died abruptly, and the only noise was the door swinging on its hinges as David and Daniel stared dumbfounded.

“So,” Daniel said, “That’s a no?”

The knocking kept them up all night.

David could hear Daniel’s breathing shift to sleep breathing and he himself started to drift off… Loud rapping in the office, erratic in intensity, it seemed to roam around the room from corner to corner.  They looked at each other.

The knocking stopped.

David sighed. Daniel rolled over.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK from the ceiling above them as if an orangutan was bouncing around in the attic and furiously wanted to break through and onto their bed.

“For fuck’s sake!” Daniel said climbing out of bed. He started getting dressed.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going… somewhere. Leaving here for the night!”

The knocking stopped.

“It stopped.”

“For now!”

“Maybe for real?”

“You really think so?”

“Daniel don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

Daniel stopped tying his shoe. He turned to look at David’s panicked eyes. He undressed and climbed back into bed. David lay his head on his chest.

The knocking started in the kitchen.

Daniel stroked David’s hair as they both lay awake for the rest of the night.

When the first sunlight backlit the curtains, Daniel opened his eyes. He realized the knocking had to have stopped at some point and they both finally fell into exhausted sleep.

“Mmm?” David stirred.

“I guess we did get a little sleep.”

David settled down onto his pillow as Daniel started to get out of bed. “Where are you going?” he asked sleepily.

“Bathroom.”

“Oh.” He heard Daniel’s footsteps out of the room, across the family room to the bathroom. He heard the door open. Pause. He heard the door close again, and Daniel’s footsteps back across the floor. “Problem?”

“The bathroom is full of bees.”

“Bees?”

“Bees.”

David hurried out of bed and to the bathroom door. Hand on the knob, he opened the door slowly. A ray of sunlight illuminated the small bathroom and shone on hundreds of thousands of bees blanketing every surface, their collective buzz an aural assault. He shut the door with a little slam. He crossed back to the bedroom and started to get dressed. “Let’s go.”

They didn’t come back for two months.

By that point the contractors finished the remodel that was supposed to take three weeks. Daniel and David took turns nightly listening to the litany of troubles on the jobsite: tools malfunctioning, concrete refusing to dry, a healthy redwood fell across the yard, barely missed the house but crushed the foreman’s Ford F-250. The lead contractor arrived early one morning and was chased off the site by a honest-to-god grizzly bear. His guys didn’t believe it. Daniel and David did.

But eventually the addition was completed, and David and Daniel arrived in the middle of the day. The house was quiet as the contractor showed them the new bathroom and laundry room. The work looked great and they were smiles all around. David and Daniel shared a knowing look when the contractor said goodbye and practically ran to his truck.

They closed the front door and walked to the kitchen. David opened the cloth grocery bag he had sat on the counter. Daniel took the French baguette from Costeaux bakery in Healdsburg and set it carefully on the new slate floor directly in front of the gleaming six burner Wolf range. David knelt down and opened the glass bottle of Strauss milk and poured it into a china bowl with a delicate blue and gold net pattern that the man in the antique store assured them came from Czarist Russia. Daniel set a matching plate down and emptied a small bag of sweet-smelling pipe tobacco.

He straightened up and stood at the edge of the kitchen staring at the offering. Taking David’s hand, Daniel spoke quietly, kindly. “Domovoi, we make this offering to you. We’re both sorry to disturb the house and to imply that you were anything other than a welcome member of this household.” He smiled at David who smiled back at him.

“We’re not the old Russian family, Domovoi,” David added. “But… we hope to earn your trust again.”

The house creaked loudly. And then it settled. David and Daniel both felt the house at peace.

Daniel sighed. “I’m so relieved,” he said. “I didn’t want to steal one of the neighbor’s chickens to sacrifice…”

“Right?” David agreed. “’Hi, we’re your new gay neighbors. Don’t mind us, we just have to perform an animal sacrifice to appease the angry house ghost.’”

“That would have been super awkward…”

“Domovoi,” David addressed the air, “I will make my signature fried chicken! That’s so much better than some bloody bird carcass!”

One of the burners on the stove burst to high flame.

“Well, uh, not tonight. But soon!”

31 Ghosts 2019: October 2 — Remodeling

Photo by Logan Smith on Unsplash

I had hoped this would be a one-night story, but it got away from me. So I present to you the first part of “Remodeling”. Remember to say thanks to your house ghost!

The ancient doorbell gave a pathetic warble like the last gasp of a dying exotic bird.

A loud knock came from the door, as if whoever was on the other side was afraid the dying-bird doorbell wasn’t enough.

“Coming!” David directed at the door. He unlocked the deadbolt – leftover habit from living in San Francisco – and opened the door to a dark-haired wiry man in a suede brown leather jacket that showed an obnoxious amount of chest hair adorned with gold chains.

David raised an eyebrow at the man, then asked, “Vladimir?”

The man smiled broadly. “Yes, I am Vladimir!”

“Good to meet you, Vladimir. I’m David” he extended his hand and Vladimir shook it vigorously. “Daniel said you might come by! Come in, come in! I have the album in here,” He ushered the man in and closed the door behind him.

“Thank you, call me Vlad,” he said with more than a little trace of a Russian accent.

“Please have a seat! Can I get you something to drink?”

Vlad screwed up his face in thought for a moment and then said, “Many thanks, but no. I have to get back still. It is okay.”

David hurried to a small cardboard box on the counter pass through that separated the family room from the kitchen. As he carried the box back to Vlad, David noticed the man staring around the wood paneled walls wistfully.

“You know, my family… we spent a lot of good times here,” he smiled. “My baba… this was her pride and joy. That patio,” he turned and nodded past the closed front door, “That was the hub. All the families around here… Russian. From San Francisco. This was their getaway, and they all gathered here.”

“That’s so great,” David smiled outwardly. Though inwardly he felt a pang knowing he had just that day arranged for the demolition of the decrepit patio cover and concrete. “Do you remember it?”

“Da… Yes,” he said. “As little boy, my baba held court,” his accent thickening with the reminiscing. “She cooked such feasts in this tiny little kitchen. My Deda, he kept that fire going all afternoon grilling shashlik. So much food, you could feed an army! And this was their idea of vacation!” he let out a laugh that belied his slight frame. He nodded silently remembering.

David let an appropriate amount of silence pass then set the box on the edge of the leather couch and opened it to reveal a weathered book. “Let me give you this…” he said drawing the book out. When Daniel came across this in the crawl space, I just knew I had to get this back to you. Is this album your grandmoth– your baba’s?”

Vlad took the album gingerly and opened the dust-caked cover. Inside a faded sepia photograph of an ornately dressed baby sat on the knee of a woman wearing a gown. Vlad’s smile beamed and he let out a little gasp. “That,” he said pointing to the baby, “that is my baba back in Odessa! And her mother,” he pointed to the woman. He gingerly closed the album. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“Oh,” David said, helping Vlad set the book back in the box, “like I said, I just knew we had to get this back to your family. I know you had a lot of history here.”

“We did. We did,” Vlad said, picking up the box. “And I am sure you will have wonderful times here, too,” he turned towards the door. “I must go.”

“Certainly, Vlad,” David said, hurrying past him to open the door. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get for you? You’ll be alright? You’re not going all the way back to the City, are you?”

“Da, it is okay. I am fine, thank you.” He started out the door and stopped remembering something. “Oh, David?”

“Yes?”

“On the way in, it looked like the garden in front of the bedroom is torn up?”

“Oh, that. Yes,” David smiled sheepishly. “We’re remodeling a bit. We’re going to bump the bedroom out and make a second bathroom, bring the laundry room inside…” he trailed off as he noticed the color drain out of Vlad’s face. “What? What’s wrong? Are you okay, Vlad?”

“That… that is… big change. The domovoi will not be pleased…”

“Domo-what?”

“Domovoi. Umm…. It is…. In Russia we have domovoi, everyone has domovoi. It is… house ghost. House spirit?”

“Oh, okay…” David nodded confused. “That’s nice….”

“Yes, domovoi… takes care of the house, make sure nothing bad happens, keeps pests out… is good.”

“Sure!” David tried a plastic smile.

“But if you upset the domovoi – make too much noise, or especially break up the house like this…” he waved towards the site of David’s future double vanity, “the domovoi will make a fuss.” Vlad’s head jerked towards the open door and his eyes got wide. “I… I have to go. Thank you again,” he said hurrying down the stairs towards his BMW X5 in front of the gate. “Goodbye!” he said as the SUV chirped an unlock

David stared after the quickly retreating man, not even able to manage a wave before the black BMW roared to life and kicked up gravel from the unpaved road as Vlad floored the accelerator and sped around the corner.

In the quiet autumn air he could hear the SUV roar away taking another corner hard. David pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons before raising it to his ear. “Daniel?”

“Hey hon,” Daniel’s voice came. “I should be out of here in about ten. Everything okay? Need me to pick anything up at the Safeway?”

“No… no, we’re good. But… That guy, Vladimir?”

“The former owner’s son? Did he stop by?”

“Yeah,” David trailed off.

“Daniel? Everything okay?”

“It was weird,” David said, walking inside and deliberately locking the door, the deadbolt and setting the chain lock. “Have you heard of a domo…domo… domovoid?”

“Domo—no, no I haven’t. What is it?”

“I don’t know,” David said. I’m going to look it up. It didn’t sound good.”

“What about it?”

“Oh, Vladimir said it would get mad because of the renovation.”

“Heh,” Daniel scoffed, “Must be some old-world Russian bullshit.”

“Heh,” David half heartedly returned the laugh, “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. It was just… I don’t know… a little unnerving.”

“Don’t worry about it, David. I’ll be home in a bit. I’ll grab a bottle of Sirah at the store.”

“Okay, be safe,” David said, reaching for his laptop.

“Will do. Love you!”

By the time Daniel got home, David felt pretty well acquainted with the folklore of a domovoi. He had read a Wikipedia entry, two wiki folklore pages, watched a YouTube video of a Russian woman try to explain the domovoi in broken English, and looked quizzically at the carvings and representations of the domovoi that looked to David’s eyes like a squat troll doll.

Secure in his newly gleaned knowledge, when Daniel asked about it over dinner, David just brushed it away. “It’s like you said, some old-world bullshit.”

To himself, though, he remained vigilant. He lay awake that night and started at an audible creak in the house that interrupted the mechanical rhythm of Daniel’s CPAP machine. But the creak really did sound like… well, a normal creak of an old house. And an old house that was raised above historic flood level. He listened again, but no sound came again and eventually the CPAP’s drone lulled him to sleep.

In the back of his mind, he felt his vigilance wane after the next day and night didn’t bring any unexplained phenomena. Then a week passed without incident and David felt pretty comfortable that, yes, maybe it truly was some “old-world bullshit”.

The crew showed up to demolish the patio just as David was finishing with the contractor about the new bathroom/laundry room. The enormous ivy vines that wrapped around the rotting patio structure offered the biggest resistance, but by mid-afternoon the last of the structure had been piled into the construction dumpster and sun poured down and warmed the concrete that had seen only dappled light for generations.

David slept well that night. At least until Daniel’s CPAP machine silenced abruptly. “Daniel?” he asked quietly. When no answer came, he awkwardly pulled the CPAP mask off Daniel. Daniel’s breath came in gasps.

“Can’t….breathe….” he croaked out. “Can’t… move… Get… it…off…me…”

In the dim moonlight coming through the window David could see the night shirt Daniel wore pressed flat against his chest, as if something actively pressed down on him. David flipped on the night stand lamp. As soon as the room flooded with light it was as if a spell broke, and Daniel let out a heaving breath and clutched at his chest as he struggled to sit up. “Daniel, are you okay?”

Daniel panted. He nodded and looked at David. “I couldn’t breathe,” he said finally. “It was like… It was like something was sitting on my chest. I, I…” he breathed heavily, “I couldn’t move…”

“How do you feel now? Can you breathe okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“No… no, I think I’m good, David… Maybe some water?”

“Absolutely,” David said hurrying out of the room to the kitchen. He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the Britta in the fridge. “How are you doing –” he started to say as he approached the bright bedroom but the bedroom door violently swung closed, smashing into his hand with the glass as it slammed into the door jam with a blast that shook the house and drowned out the crash of the water glass onto the floor.

“David?! Are you okay?” Daniel called from the other side of the door. A moment later, Daniel yanked the door open to reveal a pale David standing wide eyed in the doorway, cradling his bruised hand.

“I think we pissed off the domovoi,” was all he could say.

To be continued…

31 Ghosts 2019: October 1 – Seeing the Unseen

Photo by Jack Antal on Unsplash

It’s October again and you know what that means… It’s time for 31 Ghosts! This is the third year I endeavor to bring you a ghost story every day of the month through All Hallows’ Eve. The yellowing leaves are starting to fall, the temperature (at least at night) is growing chilly as the days get shorter and the shadows grow longer.

Earlier this year I moved back into downtown Guerneville. My buddy’s lower unit had taken on four feet of water and his tenant left town almost as quickly as the floodwaters. Before the flood and before that tenant, my friend’s boys lived down here off and on. They talked about at least two ghosts down here — one that haunted towards the back of this lower level near the bathroom and the other… the other had some definite ideas about what to watch on the TV. They said they’d have activity when they started watching scary movies — lights flickering, bumps, cold spots. One of the boys’ friends claimed a ghost kept whispering in his ear that they shouldn’t be watching scary movies so vehemently that he had to seek psychiatric help afterwards. Missed like a month of school. Wasn’t the same afterwards…

I lived down here then for about six weeks between houses. With a huge dog and two cats in one room, it was easy to blame any unexplained noises on the cats or the dog… even if they were in the same room with me. The hallway light flickered on occasion, but that constituted the paranormal experiences I had in my first time here.

Fern and I came to help as soon as we could after the water receded. That first weekend was a mess of hauling out soaking debris and pulling down soggy drywall. Numerous times coming in and out I swear I saw a cat out of my corner of my eye. Nothing definite — I’d tell you it was a black cat, but I don’t know that I caught enough of its slinky figure moving among the tools, mops, and buckets to really be sure. But it wasn’t a single time. Power was shut off, there was still standing water, maybe it was just a trick of light, but I kept seeing that cat.

It brought be back to the middle of February, 2014. We were told my mom wouldn’t last the night, so racing to the airport turned into a forced quiet of unknown in an airplane hurtling through the night. We made it. Long after midnight we got to the hospital bed set up in the family room of my mom’s small home. She was sleeping. My sister Jenny asked if Jack, Jay, or I would stay with mom overnight and I volunteered immediately. Jenny had already made the hospice nurse, Augustina, get some rest and in short order I was alone with my mom. Wracked with an obscenely fast-moving cancer diagnosed less than three weeks earlier she lay unconscious. The only sounds in the room came from the rise and fall of the mechanical oxygen machine. The only light shone a weak orange glow from the bulb about the range in the adjoining kitchen.

“Jenny and Jill said I should sleep. The aid said I should sleep (she just came out and said it again),” I wrote in my journal. “Not now. Now I feel I need to be present. She’s drugged asleep, I know that. But she’d do it for me. I will sleep later. Now breaths are finite and even if it’s just watching her, so be it.

“Oh, and the ghosts,” I wrote. “Sitting here watching her there are shadows flittering at the edge of my peripheral vision. I feel people standing behind me – that uncanny feeling. I can’t discern who it is/ they are, but it’s unmistakable.” There was a cat there that morning. I saw it slip around the coffee table and move around the bed. At least one other person told me later they had seen a cat in the room another time. My mom didn’t have a cat.

I’d mentioned in the first 31 Ghosts entry my dad died on October 1. I remember very vividly as a teenager watching my dad in his last days seem to unwind like a watchspring, making statements that didn’t make any sense in context… or maybe they did. Once, I remember, he startled and demanded, “I need the key!”

“What key, dad?”

“I need the key, goddamnit, I need the key!

“Dad, there’s no key.”

He was desperate now, “I need the key to open the door! I need the key!”

Maybe he was seeing the final door he wouldn’t get to for another few days.

My mom’s last morning she lay mostly unconscious, incoherent. “Around 3 in the morning Augustina was resting on the couch next to my mom. Suddenly mom woke up with a cry of ‘Nana! Nana, wait!’ She turned to Augustina and said, ‘I have to go now. Tell my family I love them.’ And then she lapsed into the state she was in before.” She died twelve hours later.

I still see them both – mom and dad – in dreams, mostly. A smell of my mom’s favorite hand lotion sometimes. I hear my dad laugh. Ghosts. Shadows…

It’s October again. The living have had the last eleven months, so I’m taking this one for the dead. 31 Ghosts has begun.