I should have seen the signs. Should have known that the buildup of other-worldly energy was due for a release. The more these weird things happen to me, the more I sense a pattern: ceiling walking/found coin/cemetery visit/something odd.
The sound of walking above my head late at night has become so common (even happened during my growing-up years, in my mom's house) that it doesn't really bother me any more. I notice it. I look at the clock. I mentally review the date, to see if there's any connection, perhaps, to a special occasion or milestone. It's disconcerting. But it doesn't scare me.
Last Thursday night, I heard walking again in Genius's bedroom. Just regular walking. Not the disco stomping I hear sometimes. Nor the bed creaking as if someone has just rolled over. Walking. Funny that I'd been in Genius's room that very morning. We keep the door closed, because when Genius is home, his life is such a whirlwind that he tosses items here and there, sorts through some mail, and leaves things he has no used for at his college house at the moment.
I had taken a photography magazine and a bank statement to Genius's room, and laid them on his bed around 10:30 or 11:00 Thursday morning. The room was cold, but that's to be expected. We keep the door closed, and it's on the front side of the house, the west side, and the sun hadn't reached there yet to shine in through his large front window. I also noticed the floor creak while I was standing beside the bed. Which made me think how easy it must be for the floor to creak when nobody is in there. Randomly. Between 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.
On Thursday afternoon, on the way home from lunch with my favorite gambling aunt, I had stopped for some lottery tickets so I would have a couple to mail in Genius's letter the next morning. And some for myself, too, of course! I opened the door to step out of T-Hoe, and there was a penny looking up at me. Not as good as the dime I found last time before my weird coincidence. But still, ground money!
Friday I went to town to mail the weekly letters to Genius and The Pony. I have to get there before the mail goes out, so I was missing my morning shows on POP TV. I watch Dawson's Creek. Two shows per day. I never watched that series when it was on, but I've gotten caught up in these old reruns. Even though Katie Holmes has been married, babied, and divorced over the years, the show is still fresh for me. Since I knew I'd be in town, I set the DVR to record it on my basement big screen TV. Don't go thinking that rich ol' Val has The Hopper. Nope. I can only record two different shows at a time, and I can only do that on my basement TV. Not the one in the living room where I usually watch Dawson.
After the post office Friday morning, I did the Walmart shopping. Then I stopped by the cemetery and made sure I was talking to the right grave this time. Just a short happy chat. Nothing odd happened. No special songs played. I just filled Mom in on the boys' activities, and our upcoming gambling trip with Sis and the ex-mayor.
The evening was uneventful. A driveway walk, dog snacks, a quick supper for Hick so he could go to the auction. I slapped together my Book Blurb and posted it. Readied my supersecret blog tale of lunch with Auntie. Read blogs and left comments. Watched a YouTube video of a guy scratching a whole book of lottery tickets. Thought about working on my tax return. Looked at some conspiracy sites. Read some outlandish "news" on the UK Daily Mail.
After shutting down my New Delly, I went out to my OPC (Old People Chair) and turned on the heater and the vibrator. Cranked it back. I watched some Teen Mom 2 shows I'd recorded. Then remembered Dawson's Creek, the two episodes I'd recorded from that morning. I pushed the button to see what the first one was about. Huh. The Leerys try to come to terms with Mitch's car accident. WHAT? Mitch had a car accident? Huh. I'd missed the shows on Thursday, due to leaving early to go by the bank and the courthouse before lunch with Auntie. Last I saw, the gang had gone off to their respective colleges, and Pacey was stalking Joey from a boat in Boston Harbor.
I pushed the button to watch that episode, and right away it was obvious that MITCH WAS DEAD! Dawson was picking out a casket. Mom Leery had taken to her bed and couldn't function. Baby-Girl Leery would never know her dad...
There was walking in The Pony's room! Right by the door and the hall area. The Pony, as a little tyke, used to tell me that Grandpa came to his room at night. He never knew his grandpa (just like Baby-Girl Leery) because he was only 6 weeks old when my dad died of cancer. But there's a picture of him in Genius's room, and hanging on the wall in the hall, over the piano. So The Pony always knew what his grandpa looked like.
Dad had held The Pony, though. Balanced him on his knees in his recliner. Talked to him every day until the last two weeks when he was kind of out-of-it. I wasn't working then, and every morning I'd dropped 3-year-old Genius off at daycare (sorry, Genius) and took The Pony out to spend the morning with Dad, and keep my mom company, because she wouldn't leave the house.
Anyhoo...now I was watching a show about the dad dying, with everybody having flashback memories about what a great guy he was...and this floor-walking had started over my head. I swear. That same stuff started the night I watched that recording of The Middle, when Sue Heck held a seance and saw the Santa Maria shadow sail across her wall! This is why I never watch those ghost hunter shows at night! Or that kid medium, or the Long Island chick, either. I can only watch those shows in the daylight, upstairs, preferably with somebody else at home. Bwawk! Bwawk! I'm a big ol' chicken.
Oh, but this is just the lead-up, people! You don't know what awaited me upstairs!
You'll find out tomorrow, though...
Sorry. Val is the poster girl for why authors should not include a prologue, or take too long setting the scene.