Ask any Realtor - they’ve probably got a ghost story or two. I know I do.
First, I will tell you I am totally on the fence on the question of ghosts. I’m willing to say I cannot explain these things. I’m not going to try to convince you. I just know what I experienced.
My first experience was when I was looking for a farmhouse to live in. The cute little white clapboard farmhouse on a country road looked perfect. Not too big, totally charming, it needed work but nothing I couldn’t handle.
The only problem was the buzzing. It started when I walked in the kitchen and it got louder and louder as I walked through the house. It got to the point where I couldn’t hear anything else. And no one else heard it at all.
“A nest of some sort?” the listing agent suggested. “Bees?”
It was fall. There were no bees in sight.
“In the walls, maybe.”
But why could no one else hear them?
When I went outside, it immediately stopped. But one foot back inside and.. BZZZZZZ.
I reluctantly decided maybe this house wasn’t for me.
I heard stories from other agents about houses with creepy dolls, with strange smells, with faint, murmuring voices.
“Don’t even go to that one,” one agent said, pointing at a chalet style house. “The dolls’ eyes follow you around." She shivered. “There are a lot of ‘em, too. Creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Then I listed an old tavern on a quiet road. The family that owned it hadn’t used it in years, and it was dark and cold inside. Every time I showed it, I felt uneasy. Nothing happened. Not once. But if I was early, I waited for my clients outside.
When the home inspector went through the place, he took me aside when he was done.
“Does this place bother you?”
I nodded. “It does.”
“Something’s not right here,” he said. “Nothing happened, but I just didn’t like being in there.”
We had absolutely nothing to go on but our own feelings, and the people who bought it loved it and felt comfortable there from day one. I suspect the house had opinions about who it welcomed and who it didn’t.
I’ve been in houses that felt like big hugs and a cup of hot cocoa, even though they were empty. I’ve been in houses that felt like they were sad. And I’ve been in houses that felt like they were unfriendly. But I never actually saw anything.
Except once.
One time, I saw something for myself and cannot explain it.
It was at a trailer in the woods, with a wooden workshop attached. I was showing it to a family who thought it could be a great place to build a home because it had a lot of land for a surprisingly reasonable price.
I was early, and when I got there, an elderly man was walking from the trailer to the workshop.
I cursed myself for being early and bothering him, but he didn’t notice me. So rather than interrupt, I decided to stay in the car until my clients arrived. Then we’d go introduce ourselves.
When they arrived, I explained about the seller, told them to walk around outside and I’d go to the workshop and let him know we were there.
He wasn’t there. The workshop was empty. It had been empty a long time.
The trailer? Empty. Nothing left but an old cot and a few blankets. No one had lived here for a very long time, and no one was around. Every surface was covered with dust that hadn’t been disturbed. There were no footprints outside, even though the ground was damp.
Is it possible I saw someone who later left while I was in my car? I would have seen him. There was only one way in and out. And he was quite old — he was moving slowly. No, I saw a man who wasn’t there.
Maybe next year I’ll tell you about the ghosts who smoked cigars.
Happy Halloween.