True Story 5 - Phenomena

Across the alley lived the Firebug. A nice enough man, I'm sure, but how were we to know? We weren't on speaking terms with him or anything. Criminey, we were just kids. All we knew was he was always out back of his house burning leaves and god knows what else. Naturally we assumed he was an arsonist. If any agent of the law were to ask any of us about his particulars, I'm sure we could have gladly filled them in.

Poltergeists were popular then and our neighborhood had a case study. Paranormal specialists were called in, priests, a film crew. All this I learned after the fact. We all did. It seems none of us actually saw the cars and trucks arrive, the cameras get unloaded. But we all seemed keenly aware of the unfolding chain of events, albeit after the fact. It climaxed with the two word explanation the occult scientists used to explain moving furniture, strange sounds and general mayhem: "Teenage Brainwaves." That was the conclusion. Teenage brainwaves at play. None of us being teens yet, it gave us something to look forward to.

But only one house was The Haunted House. Stuck up on the hill, it couldn't do anything but loom down on us. Someone produced binoculars and we shared the duty of keeping watch. Often a third floor light was the only light left on at night. We organized an expedition - in daylight, of course. We stealthily made our approach, hunkering low. Johnny P. and I, eyes to the ground, both spied at once a piece of treasure in the form of an old sardine can. We each went for it. We grabbed, we pulled; only Johnny grabbed the can and I grabbed the key. A ribbon of razor sharp metal sprung, and blood began gushing from my hand. I still have the scar, see? Anyway, that was proof positive, as far as any of us were concerned, that the place was haunted. Apparently cursed as well. At the sight of blood, we retreated that day, but a subsequent expedition ended with a group of us, noses pressed to door glass, witnessing a rather plain looking woman descending the stairs, moving toward us. We hightailed it on out of there and never came back. As disappointing as it was to find a living person residing in our haunted house, we at least were able to clothe her in white gauzy shroud and see her motion with hooked finger for us to enter.