Monday, March 21, 2005

Of course (slaps forehead)

Well, phew. Here I was thinking that the contents of my coin jar, which I've been putting my silver change into for months, was emptied by the divine Miss M... Turns out it was just the ghosts. Some years back, "House" suffered a devastating fire and it burnt to the ground after some candles set the third floor ablaze. This was not the result of careless candle usage or an unfortunate draft, however. According to the Divine Miss M, it was the Indians.


This house was built on an old Indian meeting ground, and about 70 Indians of years past had taken to converging on the site. They were less than thrilled when the house went up and they waited for the perfect moment to strike back. They threw portraits off the walls and broke glass sculptures, biding their time until the stepson left the room empty, with a couple open flames. This is all according to Miss M and the "douser" hired to check the house. He discovered a veritable pow-wow playground of spirits, apparently, and advised for an exorcism after the house was rebuilt. In other words, this house should be cleaaaaaaar. But, perhaps not, since things like a bucket of quarters are suddenly disappearing from my room.


"Has anyone been in my room you don't know well, because I'm missing some change," I asked, watching for a flinch or blush, some evidence of guilt. I did catch a visible twitch, and a little flushing of the cheeks. "Well, that's bizarre, one guy with the radiator may have been here and I will certainly find out," she said. "I mean, I am pretty sure the ghosts are gone, but perhaps it was them."


Ghosts. Right. Like it's not bad enough living in the woods, without a door, and ignoring all the weird noises that I’ve acclimated myself to. Now, she is going to tell me I’m sharing the third floor with some pissed off natives?


This raises some interesting questions. If people I can't see took $20 in silver, does it still clang in their pockets? Could they be in need of ghost money, like the Buddhists burn for their dead relatives, and they can't buy any hot dogs in heaven without my money? Have they taken my money for reparations? Should I call Foxwoods and see if some transparent fuckers with feather headdresses are having a blast on my quarters while “giving back to the community?” At least these ghosts are probably civic minded, and I mean, I care about what we did to the Indians, but I really wanted those quarters to play poker.



“Perhaps I’ll consult my astrologer before I go away,” she said.


Oh. Please do.

4 comments:

Erica said...

I can't wait until the new reality tv series airs.... "The Housesitter"

A young buisness woman/party girl stumbles upon a wanted ad for a house sitter: free housing in exchange for housesitting and feeding and walking a couple of loveable norweigen hunting dogs. But when the girl and her friends meet Marrrieanne (if thats her real name) and Zup, her monicle wearing former CIA agent boyfriend with a fake brittish accent, will kate change her mind about this sweet deal. And if marrianne and zup dont do them in how about pablo, the 50 year old columbian computer guy who will not leave. Maybe if they can keep a sense of humor through all of this, the native american quarter stealing ghosts will come back to seek REVENGE, and pockett change. The only way to know is to watch.

Josh said...

oh.my.god. that is so fucking funny.

Betsy said...

I can't even handle it!

Jenn said...

I didn't see any arrowheads in the woods when we were lost. Perhaps it was the spirits that were guiding us home when we were lost... also it must have been them that put the litter in the trees to mark their way home. Or I know... the stealing of your quarters was a forceful message to those who visit the casino on a regular basis (clears throat) NOOOO MORE VISITING THE CASINOOOOO AND BEING INDEPENDENT IT IS NOT NEARLY AS FUN AS SPENDING THE WEEKEND WITH YOUR ROOOOOMIESSSSS (hint hint)