Days later, after I stop by Lou’s to chug a root beer & grab some licorice at the mid-point of a Saturday afternoon jog, he tells me that he told off his sister Luann earlier in the week. Both Lou’s sisters are nuns and the three of them seemingly share some weird sort of ecumenical magic. “I don’t think I told you she was here last Friday.”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t know what the hell she left behind, but I finally had to call her on Sunday and tell her to cut it out! I mean, my phone’s whizzed and popped for awhile after one of her visits. But that? The bumping and scratching & weirdness?”
“I know.”
” Especially after that disappointing Eastwood flick!! Not a bare chest in sight! So, I couldn’t take it! I called her and screamed BITCH! She just laughed and hung up and… minutes later, it finally stopped.”
Catching his breath, the switch, as it so often does, clicks in him and he now eyes me, flirtatiously. “& to think, I thought you were making things up,” he fake-pouts, his voice oozing with Baby Jane cuteness, “just to get a little comfort from me!” He reaches out his arms, like a clumsy Toys R Us baby doll in need of perpetual attention, and I, reluctantly, let him hug me, damply, for a bit and then, after faking a coughing fit, I move to the kitchen table and sit.
Indeed, when Lou and Sherry had first returned that evening they had, dubiously, listened to my ghostly tale. The boys, who I had (somewhat) properly sent to bed, began calling for her, almost immediately.
“They were really scared” She grunts, noncommittedly. “They might try to come down if you don’t go up!”
Indeed, their whimpers of “Mom, mom,” sonically, seem to move ever closer as speak. “You stay right there! & In that bedroom – not the hallway!” she commandingly screams up to them as she shakes her head at me and, disapproving, climbs the stairs to the guest room where they are nervously pacing.
Earlier, we three, unsurprisingly, had found nothing upon exploring. Post incident, both Lou’s bedroom and the room that the boys were set up in were minus any deities – menacingly corporal or otherwise. Despite that seemingly calming discovery, their nervous energy squiggled about in uncontrollable bursts throughout the rest of the evening. I had hoped the continued lack of spiritual congress would eventually put them at ease. But as their prescribed bedtime rolled ever nearer, they grew increasingly nervous, begging to stay downstairs with me.
Naturally, I was desperate to avoid any kind of maternal disapproval. Sherry did not strike me as someone to mess with. So, I ordered them back up the stairs when their bedtime arrived. My caveat being that I would go with them as a form of mild, foolhardy protection. So, I sat by them for an hour, chatting as the lay, still too mortified to sleep. At the sound of shooting gravel in the rectory parking lot, they shot up, immediately, whipping off lightly draped blankets. But before their feet could hit the ground, I corralled them into remaining still for the moment. “Do you want to be the one who explains to your mom why you’re not in bed at 11 pm?” They both shake their heads. “Smart. Stay & I’ll send her up right away.”
Now Sherry emerges from the upper level, not a child peeping behind her, just as my parents, merrily, arrive. The five of them settle in the kitchen while I take coverage in the living room. My mom and dad seem less than convinced of our paranormal adventure, as well, and I sink into the recliner in the furthest corner, wanting to be at a far remove from the disbelieving adults. Time passes and I am just beginning to contemplate dozing off. My mom and dad tend to settle in for these gatherings and hours will pass by before the thought of leaving begins to even tickle at their consciousnesses. Keeping with the established flow of the evening, though, there have been consistent whispers on the floorboards and minor moans of wind against the windowpanes since this particular stop-by has begun. But the mature element has written them off as mere weather induced tragedies. Thus, I have not uttered a peep of awareness. But suddenly it seems as if these minor aural presences amplify – the creaks feel deeper, as if they are rocking the heart of this doggedly noble structure from within it’s oaky marrow. The conversation in the other room stops for a moment. I rouse from my slumber-aimed stupor…and listen to them listen. The chatter eventually begins again…but throughout the rest of this prolonged encounter, there are significant pauses in the flow of their words. The noises eventually, as if mocking them, begin to take on the shape of speech. They have the feeling of mini-monologues about them, as if some former inhabitants and their long ago guests, are trying to communicate their past stories through the shifting bumps and bark-stained titters. What secrets are they sharing? Lou’s voice rises even higher now, a quivering tone of strained combativeness entering his exchanges. He is trying to outgun the unknown’s invisible, sensory alarm.
Finally, Sherry rises, mentioning a need for sleep if she wants to be at early mass in the morning. The group ascends into the room, drawing nearer, almost as one, embarrassed smiles creasing their features. They believe us now, I can tell. And I, who will spend decades doubting myself even in the most affirmative circumstances, am strangely confident here. I never second guessed for a moment what we’d seen. It felt as real, as part of this atmosphere as all the unwanted gestures, the lingering caresses of a man possessed by some other affliction than charitable duty and public service.
Note: (My first horror movie buddy was a priest named Lou Hendricks. Several years ago, Hendricks was named by the Western New York Catholic diocese as one of their most unrepentant predators in the ’70s and ’80s. Thus, I grew up watching monster movies with a monster – a man who was like an uncle to our family. Over the next few months, I will be sharing some of my stories from that period of time.)
Part One of this Remembrance is located at:
Thanks for reading &…Until the next time, SWEET love and pink GRUE, Big Gay Horror Fan!
Big Gay Horror Fan 