So the other day I’m riding shotgun in the van and Fred was driving – like he always does… I don’t know why we let him drive… He’s a guy and his instincts to look at a map or ask for directions are non-existent. So when we started heading into a boggy/ swampy/ foggy/ bumpy/ off-the-beaten-pathy road, I became concerned.
Me: “Where are we?”
Fred: “We’re taking a short cut.”
A Concerned Co-Pilot: “Was it on the map?”
Fred: “Don’t worry about it.”
A Worried Co-Pilot: “Where’s the map, Fred?”
Fred: “It’s on the dash.”
*I grab map and check it.
Me: “Sh*t. You used MapQuest?! I told you Google Maps Fred, GOOGLE Maps!”
Fred: “What’s the difference?”
Me: “Us being lost…”
My faith in are driver barely dwindling, I turned back to see how the rest of the gang was doing.
The Shagster was sitting in the back of the van eating some snacks. Across from him was Vel staring at him – everyone knew she had a crush on him except him… he was kind of oblivious to the obvious in general… it probably had something to do with those “snacks” he was always eating. Daffnia was busy talking to people she thought were listening. She was going on about the movie Mean Girls and how she thought cheerleaders were always being stereotyped in a negative way. Scoob, our sniff-detector dog, was staring at the snacks Shag was eating…and drooling… it was gross.
I had taken my eyes off the road for five seconds when out of nowhere, Fred slammed on the breaks! Clunk! Clunk!
Beyond Concerned Passenger: “Oh my god, what’d we hit?!”
Daffnia: “What happened???!”
Frantic Fred: “I don’t know, it looked like some big, green creature with a fish face and red eyes!”
Me: “You hit someone! Oh my god… I am not going to prison because you suck at driving, Floor It!”
Fred: “Shouldn’t we check on whatever we hit…”
Me: “FLOOR IT!”
Having sped off to the distance, getting deeper and deeper into the bog, I began to wonder why everyone saw Fred as the leader of the group. He was always taking charge and telling people who to split off with and where to go. And yet he was always getting us lost on his stupid short cuts. And he had just run somebody over. He was an idiot. Who put him in charge? Why couldn’t Vel be our leader? She’s the only one of us besides me who actually graduated college. She was clearly the most competent. In that moment I decided it was time for a mutiny to overthrow the blond.
Fred: “Hey look, there it is! Wilcot Manor. See I told you I knew where we were going.”
Me: “Yes, that detour we took to run over someone was clearly marked on the map.”
(Alright I thought it, but I didn’t say it. I still didn’t want to hurt his feelings.)
We approached the manor. It was old, it was falling apart, it was nighttime, I had a headache… Then the homeowner came out.
Overweight Elderly Woman in an Old, Ratty Nightgown and Slippers Who Probably Spent Way Too Much Time Scrapbooking: “Thank you so much for coming! Ever since the house became haunted my Bed and Breakfast has suffered greatly.”
Fred: “How long has this been going on?”
Woman I’d Lost Interest In: “About a month. There’s banging on the walls and yelling at night. And the other day I saw a shadow.”
Grungy, Bedraggled Man in Dirty Overalls: “Who are these people?”
Suspected Scrapbook Enthusiast: “Don’t worry Greg; it’s just the Paranormal Investigators.”
Lurking in the Shadows Man Named Greg: “Hmphf…”
*Greg turned and hmphf’d away.
Woman: “That’s Greg. He’s the gardener. He was the owner of this house for about 10 years until he went bankrupt 2 months ago. Then I bought the house and he volunteered to stay and garden. Isn’t that nice? I mean, you think he’d be upset about losing his house o 10 years to the woman who works at the bank that wouldn’t extend his loan. Such a nice man.”
Fred: “Well we should probably get started with the investigation. Ghosts are particularly active this time of night.”
The woman thanked us and walked away… in her pink slippers… Why are slippers always pink? You’d think they’d come in other colors.
Fred: “O.K., time to split up. Shad and Scoob, you take the top floor…”
Me: “Why don’t we let Vel decide who splits up with who?”
Fred: “Why?”
Me: “Because you’re now a felon and my faith in you is next-to-nil.”
(Alright I didn’t say that either, but I thought it)
Real Me: “Just to be different.”
Vel: “Well you (Me) and I can go explore the basement and Daffnia and Fred can check the main floor.”
Fred: “Ok.”
So we headed towards the house. Investigating with Vel is like being on the show Ghost Hunters. Every time there’s a noise she checks the pipes. It’s like she’s more interested in the ventilation system instead of the evil spirits patrolling the house. I bet if an actual ghost walked up to her and said, “Hi”, she’d start looking all around the room for a mirror casting a reflection of a painting to explain why some guy from 1787 was standing there.
*In the basement…
Vel: “I’ll check the gas lines for any CO2 leaks that could be causing the owner to hallucinate.”
Me: “I’ll go and try to find a light switch so I don’t have to swat at spiders with my flashlight when I accidentally pump into one of their webs.”
(Fine I didn’t say that either… or think it at the time… but it sounded more interesting than what I actually said)
Real Me: “I’ll go check the breakers.”
20 minutes in I lost sight of Vel. She’s probably in the shaft system by now, I thought. I decided the basement was cold and eerie, as basements tend to be. I was rummaging through some dusty boxes when I came across something interesting. It was a Furby on a shelf staring right at me.
Me: “Have you been causing all the problems?”
Knowing that Furbies are highly prone to possession, I slowly lifted it from the shelf – careful not to wake it from its coma.
Me Looking At the Furbie Staring Blankly Wide-Eyed: “Creepy.”
After finding nothing else of interest, I got bored and decided to go find the Shagster. I was wandering down a hallway near the base of the stairs leading to the second floor, when I heard some noises coming from the closet next to me. I froze like a deer hushed my breathing, and just listened… There were definitely some shuffling sounds and what I thought was possibly some sort of moaning. I had a miniature panic attack. My heart was pounding, making it really hard to breathe steady and quietly. I didn’t know what to do. Fight or flight instincts kicked in, but I was too indecisive to pick one. Finally I decided I would “rip the band-aid off” and open the door. I told myself that it was unlikely I would see a ghost. I counted to 3… 1… 2…3! I lunged at the doorknob and yanked it open!
Fred: “HEY!”
Me Frozen Again: “Oh!...Sorry! …Wait, what are you guys doing? I thought you were ghosts!”
Daffnia: “We were looking for ghosts… in the closet.”
Me: “Where’s your shirt?”
Fred: “The ghost tried to… uh attack and uh… she threw her shirt at it in self-defense.”
Daffnia: “We both fought the ghost, which is why we’re kind of sweaty and out of breathe.”
Me: “. . . uh, Ok . . . *glancing towards the kitchen* . . . I’m going to find Shag…”
*Awkward moment passes after entering the kitchen alone.
I went to the fridge and opened it to see if there was any Coors or Budlight when Shag entered the room.
Shag: “There’s nothing good in there. Only breakfast items. I guess she takes the breakfast part of Bed and Breakfast very seriously.”
Me: “Where’s Scoob?”
Shag: “Don’t tell Fred, but he accidentally peed on a rug in one of the bedrooms so I put him outside. He hasn’t done that in a long time.”
Me: “What should be do about the rug?”
Shag: “We can tell the lady a ghost left some ectoplasm on it when we tried to exorcise it.”
Me: “Alright, sounds good.”
Shag and I talked for a while as we walked from room to room. I told him about my plan to overthrow Fred from his long reign as group leader. Shag said he thought Fred was alright as a leader and didn’t need to be impeached. I knew Shag was a lost cause. Pacifists…
Eventually Vel caught up with us.
Vel: “They have a faucet leak in their upstairs bedroom.”
Sarcastic Me: “Nice.”
Shag: “Well I haven’t seen anything here and it doesn’t feel haunted. What should we tell her?”
Vel: “Well we should definitely inform her about the leak.”
Me: Well if we don’t tell her the house is haunted, she’ll think we suck at paranormal investigating and she won’t pay us the money.”
Vel: “But we shouldn’t lie to her.”
Shag: “We should just say we experienced some things that we couldn’t explain and it’s possible that the house is haunted.”
Vel: “Then what?”
Me: “We’ll just tell her to put a Bible in every room and burn some sage.”
Shag: “Sounds good to me.”
Vel: “Ok… Let’s find Fred and Daffnia and get out of here.”
*4:36 A.M., April 2nd, 2011. Paranormal Investigation #173 is concluded.
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