Inspection

The Conversation

Mahm: Check this out. Dad wants to go look at it. Listed as possibly haunted….

Lorel: FUCK YES

Lorel: Haven’t even looked yet

Lorel: Move in!!

Mahm: Go through the pictures. Would have to be majorly redone before moving in. It has so many cool things about it. Good neighbourhood too-the neighbours are probably hoping it will burn down or blow up.

Lorel: Ok A) I can already tell you where the haunted area is. B) “Redone” is a strong word, and it would seriously piss off anything that is haunting the joint. I would say “modernise”.

Lorel: It’s SUPER beautiful. I fully support this, ghosts or not!

Lorel: I am so jealous of your housing prices.

Mahm: Only way it would be a good deal is if, as Dad says, it has good bones.

Mahm: Where do you think the haunted area is???

Lorel:

Lorel: THAT is your haunted area

Lorel: You have a vortex of stairs and a creepy doorway.

Lorel:

Lorel: Also, all of this original stonework. Check out stone tape theory; natural, especially porous objects, absorb and hold energy.

Mahm: Dad wants to do a drive-by. We will have to contact the realtor to see the inside.

Mahm: I think the creepy doorway is a Harry Potter closet

Lorel: I think you’re close. I think that’s an old OLD butler’s pantry. I was talking about the glass-panelled one at the TOP of the stairs.

Mahm: That room is like a sunroom. I picture a zillion plants. Looks like it has major water damage in the kitchen and sunroom.

Mahm: What a huge project. Don’t know if we’re up to it. You can come and help. We would need to hire a contractor who specializes in restoration of old haunted stone houses.

Lorel: I highly recommend you look up the local paranormal groups, actually. See if they’ve ever been there. Because … THAT will tell you a lot.

Lorel: See if the house has ever been in the papers, any bad stories at the address. Check the local historical society - see if there’s anything weird that’s happened in the area.

Lorel: AND if anything starts making weird noises when you visit, make weirder noises back; assert dominance.

Mahm: Good ideas. I did sort of a mini check. That’s where I saw that it was one of several haunted houses in Louisiana.

Lorel: Right

Lorel: Maybe skip a few steps and find a local witch

Mahm: Maybe someone who could cleanse it….

Lorel: Yes

Lorel: A witch

Lorel: You can do the basics yourself; burn a sage smudge, salt the doors and windows. But depending on what’s there that might just piss it off.

Lorel: I wouldn’t recommend looking for a Voodoo Practioner either until you’re dead sure you know what you’re dealing with. And you’d need to find someone not working their own agenda. Mad respect for what they do but their work is just too close to the actual spirits; witchcraft just deals with energy.

Mahm: Exactly

Lorel: I know you think I’m full of shit. I’m genuinely concerned for your safety.

Lorel: There will be ways to tell what you’re dealing with (if anything) while you’re there.

Lorel: Listen for random tapping. It’ll happen 3x, almost every time if it’s something bad.

Lorel: Hit record on the voice recorder on your phone when you get there, and just carry it around with you the whole time. Play it back after you guys leave.

Lorel: Yes, I believe in this “woo woo crap”.

Lorel: *shrug8

Lorel: //*shrug*

Mahm: I DO TOO. You know I do...Where do you think you got it???

Mahm: It would be interesting to talk to the neighbours. If you look on Google Earth it shows all of the houses around it are big and modern with huge lots.

Lorel: Ok, i’m relieved. I was worried you were sitting there rolling your eyes thinking... “fucking hell, how is this my kid?”

Lorel: Another fun one to try is randomly whispering or saying “Christ” while you’re there.

Mahm: So randomly whispering “Christ” as in invoking Jesus???

Lorel: Yup

Lorel: Randomly making the sign of the cross as well.

Mahm: That would piss off/cause havoc with a demonic type presence…maybe. Hopefully whatever is there is just a lingering mellow, leftover spirit.

Lorel: After doing that just listen; if there’s something negative (demonic) there will be tapping or knocking. possibly growling.

Lorel: Yeah, that.

Lorel: If it’s the first type I’d say nope your ass outta there, no matter how pretty that yard can be.

Lorel: Whatever you do, if you do buy this joint, or any other old house, DO NOT bring a fucking Ouija board into the house.

Mahm: Ouija boards scare the shit out of me. Never, never do an Ouija board with Aunt Cindy of the college aunties.

Lorel: yeah... i’m not exactly a good person to do them with either...

Lorel: i can work them alone...

Lorel: Didn’t find out THAT’S not normal until colleg

Lorel: //college.

Mahm: Did you look at all the pictures?

Lorel: I did.

Lorel: O_o what about the woods behind it?

Lorel: Cause not saying I AM, but if I WERE a murderer...

Lorel: *waves to the FBI agent monitoring my chats*

Mahm: Not sure how long its been empty. I’d say a long time from looking at the pictures. I think the woods are part of the property.

Lorel: >_> ..... handy

Lorel: Ooo... maybe you could build yourself a creepy hedge maze or something...

Lorel: OMG MOM!!

Lorel: YOU’RE GOING TO BE A SOUTHERN BELLE!!

Lorel: MOM MOM MOM MOM!!

Lorel: YOU’RE GOING TO BE SOUTHERN FUCKING BELLE!!

Mahm: Maybe... an old crusty sothern belle.

Lorel: Bitch, don’t talk about my favourite humans that way! :(

Lorel: You’re going to be fabulous, wear amazing hats, and pearsl and basically be one of the FREAKING AUNTIES FROM PRACTICAL MAGIC OMFG!!

Mahm: I LOVE the aunties from Practical Magic!!!

Lorel: That’s you!!

Mahm: Ok, I’m going to research a little local history. I’ll get back to you if I find anything interesting.

Lorel: Wait, are we actually low key saying that it’s ok if the place is haunted by a demon because “just look at how pretty it is!” and also because "meh, we each summoned worse in college", and also you’d finally get to be Stockard Channing/Aunt Francis?? LOL

Lorel: Mahm??

***Mahm has signed off***

Jennifer and Arthur

One of the Aunties from Practical Magic... *snerk*. She’d been a lot of things in her sixty... shit, how many was it now? She sighed and decided not to do the math. But the only thing about her that would EVER resemble the fabulous Aunt Francis was that she was just starting to collect enough grey hair. And she could stop traffic with a piercing gaze. And she was a fierce protector of her family. And she would look fabulous in some of those hats from Practical Magic... Alright, maybe Egg 1 had a point.

Jen kept looking for the original article she’d seen listing the property as one of the most haunted properties... blah blah blah. Youth was absolutely wasted on the young - why could they navigate this shit so easily? She knew that somewhere was some sort of history...thingy, but in order to find it, she’d have to “mess with the guts”, which meant clicking somewhere off of the main page on something that didn’t have a clearly labelled button telling her exactly what it did. Both of her kids gave her a lot of shit for this quirk, but they didn’t grow up in an era when “randomly pushing buttons” equated to “suddenly wiping out small countries”. Plus the look on their faces when she complained that she couldn’t connect her new “blueberry” headphones was fucking priceless.

Jen half gave up and looked up from her iPad to see what her husband was doing; Art was sitting. Still sitting. Reading. In the same position he’d been in for the last... she checked her watch... Christ, 2 hours. She smiled and laughed a little to herself - would just thinking “Christ” be enough? She half-listened in case their Air BNB was also haunted.

“Just spoke to the girl child”

grunt

Jen closed her eyes and internally sighed.

“She’s overwhelmingly supportive and definitely thinks your idea about going to have a look is a great idea.”

“You told her it was listed as haunted, didn’t you?” He’d tilted his head away from whatever it was he was reading just enough that she could see the smile working his jaw.

“You’re damn right I told our little witch we might be buying a haunted house!” Jen was smiling, but she also puffed up just a little defensively. Art was incredibly practical but there was no way he could deny Lorel was a little more in tune with things that were just ... Other.

“Did she have any good advice?” Art had turned around in his chair now, still smiling at his wife. Jen couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her or actually wanted to know that Lorel had suggested she test the place for a demonic haunting. She decided half-truth was better than either end of that spectrum.

“Just the usual”

“Salt around the perimeter, and all the doors and windows” They echoed each other, and started laughing so hard Jen had a coughing fit. Art picked up the bottle of water from the desk he was sitting at and sat with her at the kitchen table as he handed it to her. She took a couple of sips and wiped happy tears away.

“We all tracked it everywhere! And the poor cat! I was cleaning that shit up for a week!” she snorted then covered her mouth, still giggling.

“We should have just gotten her the rock salt like she asked for; it would have been so much easier.”

Jen and Art dissolved into another laughing fit, sharing memories of their firstborn, who they lovingly dubbed Dragon Egg 1, and whom they hadn’t seen in almost 4 years. Lorel had moved to almost the other side of the planet over 10 years ago. They decided Antarctica would have been exactly the other side of the planet, and since she hadn’t gone quite that far maybe it wasn’t so bad. But flights to and from Australia were still damn expensive, and recently things just were the way they were. As such, Lorel had only been home twice since she left in 2011. Jen and Art had made the trip to see her once, and Jen had taken the journey herself once when Lorel’s world fell apart after a breakup. Mom flies in to save the day.

Since their son, Brandon, Lorel’s little brother, had gotten married and moved out of their home state of Alaska things had been very quiet, and just a bit too hard. Winters were getting especially difficult, and Jen and Art were finally just starting to concede that maybe they needed to find a place to Snowbird for the winters. When Brandon and his wife, Hailey announced they were moving their little family of 5 to Louisianna to be closer to Hailey’s parents, Jen and Art had decided it was an opportunity to look at property in warmer climates. It meant they could be closer to two of their kids (Hailey had pretty much become part of the family the instant Brandon introduced her) for part of the year, and closer to their three grandchildren. It also gave them an excuse to travel to look at houses in the area Brandon would be moving, and as it was -25 in Alaska just then, that was more than enough reason to pull out the credit card.

That afternoon Art had made arrangements with the real estate agent to meet up 2 days later, and Jen quietly figured out how to work her voice recorder on her phone. She also kept looking for information on the property, and the history of the actual house over the next day. She found who it had been built for and that the guy had paid some kids to push river rocks into the concrete blocks to give it the unique texture on the outside. Other than that “stone take” theory thing Lorel was talking about, mostly Jen just found this lazy. Surely there was a more efficient way to do this than rounding up the neighbourhood kids to collect rocks. Although she and Art had spent a good 20 minutes reminiscing about Lorel coming home weighing an extra 5 pounds because of the rocks she’d collect in her pants pockets, which then ended up in the washing machine. She smiled again, knowing damn well that Lorel still collects cool rocks and her partner has helped her set up a place in their house to display her treasures. How was this relevant? Oh, right... rocks. Kids love rocks. So the neighbourhood kids would have been happy to help whatshisass with his stupid river rocks. She gave her head a little shake and took another sip of coffee. They were meeting the real estate agent at 2 pm or some stupid time. Right in the middle of the day; George Costanza would be pissed.

When they pulled up to the address it was so overgrown Art actually hesitated to pull into the driveway. He usually didn’t question The Bitch when she chimed “you have arrived at your destination”, he just said “Thank you” or “Bullshit” or “That was unnecessary” and parked. This time he looked down at now 12-year-old Carmin the Garmin, squinting, and then looked back up at the driveway with vines hanging from the tree branches crisscrossing over it, then back at Carmin. Jen was looking at the real estate photos on her iPhone and comparing them to what was waiting for them to drive through. Where the fuck was Peter Jackson’s special effects team when you needed them? It was the middle of the afternoon, but just add some fog and do that camera trick when the Nazgul appear on a dirt road and she’d be in desperate need of a bathroom. Oooo... check the bathrooms... She made an addition to her phone’s checklist proudly. She had learned how to use that application from her oldest grandson when they went to visit a month ago. He was much more patient than Brandon or Lorel had been. He was also 9.

Art drove slowly up the driveway, trying to avoid pinstriping the rental car, but probably making it worse. They came around the slight bend and saw the real estate agent’s car. Dan? Dom? Dave? Shit... She looked back at her phone and tried to find the listing page on “Safron” or whatever it was called. Shit... she’d looked at something else...how... screw it.

“What’s the guy’s name”

“What?”

“The guy, what’s his name?”

“What guy?”

Jen took a sharp inhale through her nose and closed her eyes, invoking all of the motherfucking calm she could possibly muster.

“The guy we just drove 45 minutes to meet to show us through the haunted house we are now sitting at. The guy, who is now getting out of his stupid BMW in what appears to be a wool suit in 85-degree weather and 95% humidity. THAT guy.”

“What’s wrong with BMW’s?”

Her anxiety and blood pressure piqued. She swore he did this because he’d taken out a secret life insurance policy on her...

“ART! What is THAT man’s name?!”

“Who cares? We’re about to introduce ourselves.”

Jen took a deep breath while clenching and unclenching her jaw. He had a point. Ass. They collected everything they’d need; purse, bottles of water, glasses, hats, stupid fucking masks, phone - Jen made sure the voice recorder app was open and checked her battery... 84%. They got out of the car and Art shook hands with... Jen squinted so she could hear better ... Dean! She was way off. She shook his hand too and "complimented" him on his suit. She wasn’t sure if he caught her sarcasm and was sarcastically thanking her or if he was just an idiot. Jen’s opinion of real estate agents was right around the same level as leaches; they were a necessary part of the ecosystem, but did they have to be quite so... bleh?

Jen tuned back in to hear Dean mentioning the river rocks being pushed into the facade by local kids. She tuned back out because Wool Suit was now prattling on about crap she'd already read, and looked around the front yard; it would be really beautiful with some decent landscaping. She turned around and looked back down the driveway as something white disappeared into the bushes. If there were rabbits in the area she’d have to put in an actual veggie garden - something with a fence to keep the little brats out of her broccoli. She suddenly realised she’d have the chance to grow things she’d never been able to before... fruit trees, and more delicate vegetables! She turned back to tell Art about her exciting realisation to find that he and Dean had gone inside while she was daydreaming about veggies. She headed towards the front door of the house which was still open a few inches.

How had she not heard them open this? Damn thing was solid and heavy, although the hinges were pretty well oiled. But still, christ...

Jen’s heart jumped into her throat, while her stomach plummeted somewhere towards her lower intestine. As she had thought the word “christ” she distinctly heard 3 taps coming from her right. Gentle, but distinct. What the fuck? Ok, Ok... She pulled out her phone, unlocked it, and went to open the voice recor.... her phone had overheated... shit. It didn’t feel that hot! She started waving it around like a one-winged bird. Where the hell were Art and BMW? She couldn’t hear them talking at all. Maybe they were out in the backyard through the sunroom already. She could see that the house looked lighter off to her right... in the direction the tapping sound had come from.

“You are a fucking adult. You are a fucking senior adult. Get your shit together” she was whispering to herself. Because that’s always a good sign, she thought.

She checked her phone again, it was back on, but the battery was down to 35%. That would have to do. She opened the voice recorder app, hit record and started walking as gently as she could across 90 year old, termite eaten wooden floorboards. The light was coming from an open doorway coming up on her right. From the amount of light it looked like she was about to see the sunroom she’d been so excited to see the day before. Heart beating painfully fast she rested her shoulder on the wall outside the doorway and looked through; there were the stairs going down, with the sink to the left, with the next set of stairs going back up around the corner to the “creepy doorway”.

“Vortex” Lorel’s voice echoed in her head.

And there was the only spot that really creeped her out - the Harry Potter closet (Yes, ok, probably an "old butler’s pantry", whatever), which looked like its door was open. The sunroom was really quiet. No tapping, no dripping, no creaking, and one of the back doors was open so it looked like Art and Wool Suit had already gone through here. She snorted to herself for being so easily scared.

"Of course it's 'too quiet' you idiot" she thought to herself "you're the only one in the fucking house" and stepped through the doorway down onto the top step, glanced to her right and gasped, clutching her chest.

In the middle of the long, rectangular room were her husband and the real estate agent standing perfectly still, shoulder to shoulder, with their backs to her, staring at the opposite wall. They didn’t even flinch when she’d gasped. But something did. Something made an odd tapping noise - three times. Something also creaked, and from the direction it had come from Jen could tell that "creepy doorway" at the top of the stairs behind the Harry Potter closet was definitely open. Why were so many doors open?

“Art?”

grunt

“ART?!” she whispered at him fiercely.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” He was whispering through clenched teeth and Art hardly EVER swore. Something was wrong.

“What..”

“SH.” He cut her off with less than half a second of hissed air through his clenched teeth. Then whispered the word “Ready” in a tone so well pitched to the room it might have been part of the air.

She couldn’t help it, Jen thought the word "Christ" again, and again the strange tapping noise happened three times. What the hell was going on?!?!?

At the tapping sound, both Art and Dean had stiffened for a split second as if the sound had had a physical effect on them. Was Art saying “ready” the signal something had needed to take over their bodies? Had she come in just after they had made contact with something that was actually in this room? What if Lorel was right? What if this room and the backyard beyond it were occupied by something demonic, and they’d just walked right in casual as could be? Was this even real? What the hell could they...

“NOW!”

Art had given a stern whisper and he and Dean both acted at once; Art threw his sun hat like a frisbee towards the floor in the far left corner of the sunroom and there was a clattering and a flurry of white wings.

“See which way it goes!” said Art, backing up with his arms wide.

“I got it, man, I got it!” Jen had only just noticed that Dean had his suit jacket off, and now had it spread wide in front of him. At this point, she was still standing on the 2nd step from the top, her mouth open, and at some point had dropped her phone, which had clattered down the stairs onto the floor. They had startled a MASSIVE barn owl and Art and Dean were in the process of trying to corral it out one of the open doors.

“Jen, just stay in that doorway, spread your arms! Keep it from getting into the rest of the house!” Jen put her hands up in a surrender kind of motion, but couldn’t close her mouth. She’d never seen a barn owl in real life and couldn’t help think of all of the times she watched Labyrinth with Lorel and Brandon when they were all about 20 years younger. He (she?) was magnificent, and she wouldn’t have been at all surprised if it turned into David Bowie.

“There it goes, there it goes!!” Dean had managed to rush the owl up the stairs behind the Harry Potter closet and it flew out the creepy doorway. He was breathing heavily and had pitted out his white suit shirt, bent over with his hands resting on his knees.

Art came over to where Jen was standing on the stairs, arms still in the air. He picked up her iPhone and looked at it.

“No cracks or scratches. Your battery is dead though. You ok? Jen?” He walked up the first two steps and took her elbows gently to pull her arms down, looking up at her.

Jen finally snapped out of it when he touched her and looked around at the rest of the room. She realised there was feathers and grass and quite a lot of bird poop in all of the corners. Some of the windows had bird poop on the inside. A couple of owl pellets... The barn owl had been living in the sunroom, maybe even in the Harry Potter closet. Her brain skipped ahead five steps...

“We’ll have to make it an owl box; we just kicked him out of his home, and he'll want to stay in this area,” she said, being led down to the floor by Art.

Art gave the kind of quick huff of a laugh that he gave when he knew a project had been assigned to him because “we” meant “him”.

“Yeah, absolutely. Only fair I think, considering I just threw my hat at him.”

Dean came back down the steps and joined them back in the middle of the room, holding his wool jacket over his arm, still breathing a bit heavily.

“Sorry about the droppings in here, I really didn’t know it had gotten to this state. Feel bad for the little thing actually”

“THAT was a little one?!” Jen was still processing everything from the time she came in the front door. “Wait, you two were only in the house for maybe 30 seconds. How did you come up with the plan to get it out so fast?”

Dean and Art looked at each other but didn’t say anything for a few seconds. They both grinned. Then Dean started sniggering. She didn't realise people actually made that noise, but he was actually sniggering. Jen was beyond confused now; what was funny? Wait. Were... were they having some kind of... "man moment"? Finally, Art spoke.

“We sort of didn’t. I told Dean I was most interested to see the water damage in the sunroom because that looked like it would be the most work, so we came straight in here. I saw that the majority of the damage was on this back wall with the windows so went to go outside to have a look and suddenly the owl came swooping at me from the... dungeon looking thing.”

“Harry Potter closet”

“Yeah, that. Well, it turns out that door up at the top of the stairs over the... Closet was also left open. Must have blown open enough for him to get in. So, anyway, we spooked it, it flew over my head, straight into the wall over here and kind of hunkered down in the corner. Dean just smoothly slid out of his jacket without me saying anything, and I grabbed my hat off my head and we squared off just before you came into the room and gasped, and it flapped around a bit.”

“So you guys just... “

“... Winged it?” Dean was wiping tears out of his eyes.

“Thank you, Dean.” Jen wasn’t sure why but she was annoyed with them both for some reason. Something felt off. Something felt like it had been disturbed. Maybe she just felt like she wanted to be there with Art when he saw the sunroom for the first time. Maybe she just wished the kids could have been here to see the owl.

“Well folks, should we check to see if there are any other critters in the house? This is much cheaper than an exterminator, and much more fun!”

The slight tension in the room relaxed a little bit, almost like the air pressure changed. Jen and Art looked at each other, and Jen smiled and nodded. Art gestured towards the stairs that lead back into the house and put on a fake, posh British accent,

“Shall we m’dear?”

Jen snorted at him as she walked past.

“Christ”.

The door to the Harry Poter closet, the "creepy door" behind it, and the door in the glass wall leading outside all slammed shut at once. Then the door leading back into the house slammed, then opened a bit, then slammed, then opened a little more, then slammed...