Close encounter of the double kind

It was by far the most frightening experience of my life. I stayed overnight at an old stately home which is reputed to be haunted. I was all alone in the house.

That's when I heard someone coming in from the kitchen. Probably a burglar. I hid behind the thick curtains. I was frightened and must have cried a little because I could feel the tears trickling down my leg.

The door opened. It was the butler. 

Then from the window at the far end I saw a flash of lightening, then a bright light that would not go away. The butler remained in the room.

Moments later the door leading to the kitchen opened slowly with a creaking sound. Long bony fingers appeared on the side of the door. Then a long bony face with really big eyes. 

A diminutive humanoid type creature came in slowly. It was totally skeletal made of bones and covered in a pale grey skin. It looked like an alien from outer-space who'd just landed in the garden outside.

The alien talked. He said to the butler, "I feel a spiritual presence here. Is this house haunted?"

The butler replied, "In all the time I have worked here I have not seen a ghost."

"How long have you worked here?" asked the extra terrestrial.

 "About 400 years," replied the butler.

I started crying again.

"I notice you've only got one moon. We have seven on our planet," said the ET, "Now take me to your leader?"

"Which one?" asked the butler, "I don't have a leader. I just walk through walls and solid objects to frighten people."

"That's a neat trick," said ET, "but why the eye-patch?"

"One day I went through a key hole and someone put a key in at the same time. On another occasion I slid under a door and the maid sucked me into her vacuum cleaner while she was working. So now, it's only walking through walls for me," lamented the butler.

"We're not as versatile," said the ET fellow, "but we have tricks too. Because we move through space and time at quantum speed we can tell your future here on earth before earthlings experience it. Like travelling faster than the speed of light."

"That's clever," said the butler, "you can tell the future. Who will win the dog race tomorrow at 2:00pm?"  

"A greyhound!" affirmed ET.

"Which one?" asked the butler. 

I quickly memorised the name of the dog ET said. It was Cucumber.

The next day I rushed to the betting shop and there was a dog of that name at the 2:00pm race.

I bet £500 on Cucumber to win. It came last.

FOOTNOTE: Why are ghosts always in old haunted houses and ancient castles? Why aren't there ghosts at the supermarket, or your favourite fast-food outlet, or in a public toilet in the mall?  

Do ghosts always speak in English? Or can they speak other languages? If so, would you be scared of a ghost speaking a foreign language? 

What would you do if you were at home alone and you heard the toilet flush? I'd probably wet myself.

And what would you do if a ghost told you for certain that tomorrow you will die? I'd probably stop re-cycling. Recycling is so tedious, don't you think?

Anyway, some thoughts for you to ponder about, especially when you're at home alone. 

BOOOH !!! (I bet that made you jump).

Odd Happenings All Round

Some very odd things have been happening around here which I cannot understand. The family has been away in London. I am alone ... well, with Aunt Elma from Glasgow who has come to visit for a while. I am assured that there is no connection between her coming and my family escaping to London. Just a coincidence.

For the past few days I have noticed things moving around the house. It's as if we have a poltergeist all of a sudden. For example, the other day I left Aunt Elma in the living room watching TV and I went out to work in the garden for an hour or two. When I got back she had moved. She was in the kitchen. How did that happen?

I also left my cup in my office after finishing my coffee and ten minutes later it was washed and in the cupboard. That's never happened before. And the newspapers and magazines seem to have been picked off the floor and placed neatly in the paper rack next to the TV. 

I have not mentioned this to Aunt Elma because I do not want to spook her and frighten her to death. 

I went out to the shops and when I came back I found the house had been vacuum cleaned, the washing all done in the kitchen and the washing machine working on another load of laundry. The flower pots had been watered. The dog fed, the cat fed, the litter tray cleaned, the fish tank refreshed with new water and the fish fed, and a hot pie cooking in the oven.

I was about to mention all this to Aunt Elma but she was snoozing on the armchair in front of the TV. She doesn't seem to be doing much since she's been here. Just watching TV and sleeping. I don't want to say a thing and upset her feelings. You would have thought that as a guest she would help around a bit. But no ... she has not lifted a finger.

If it was not for the ghost that has suddenly invaded our home I'd be in a right mess. I'd thought of ringing the priest to exorcise the house but thought better of it. The chances are he'd take the ghost to clean his place instead. So for now I am keeping quiet.

A Ghostly Experience

Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever met or seen one? Did it speak to you? What did you do?

My very first experience of a ghost was many years ago when I was a teenager. I was walking home late one dark evening and there on the ground, floating away from me as if frightened, was a baby ghost. On second thoughts, it could have been a white paper tissue. Now that's a story not to be sneezed at!

My second encounter with a ghost was in an old castle in Scotland. He was wearing the full traditional Scottish costume. It was on a dark and stormy night when suddenly a gust of wind blew his kilt right up in the air.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified. He must have been just as frightened as me because he broke wind. I think he was putrefied.

I discovered later he was known as the Farting Ghost. His name was I Ken McWind.

Another more recent encounter with a ghost was at the home of an old lady I used to visit every now and then. In this case there were real manifestations like movements from one place to another. I used to visit her and find that she was sitting at a different place from where I'd left her the previous week. Never in the same place. Sometimes on the armchair, or on the sofa or in one case she was sitting on top of the fridge.

There were also sounds involved in that ghostly house of hers. I remember once we were in the kitchen and she was making me a cup of nettles tea.

Why do people drink this stuff? It tastes like the product of a skunk on diuretic!

Anyway, we were in the kitchen and we heard voices in the living room. Like someone talking. I asked her whether she had kept the radio on. She said No. I asked her to stay in the kitchen, I put her on top of the fridge, and I went to the living room. The radio was not on, but the TV was. Strange or what? I switched the TV off and the voices stopped.

Do ghosts speak in different languages depending where they are from? For example in France do ghosts speak in French? Or would they know you would not understand and they would speak to you in English but with a French accent?

Are ghosts always indoors in houses, castles and the like? Or can they be outdoors? If outdoors would the ghost be Al Fresco?

Do ghosts predict your future and tell you what is to happen to you? Like the three ghosts from the past, present and future in that ghostly story whose name I can't remember. It was something to do with Christmas as I recall. What the Dickens was it called?

And if they tell the future, are they truthful or do they lie? Can you see right through them? I wonder.

Are ghosts more frightened of you than you are of them? I mean; it can be quite an experience for a ghost to be alone in a house and suddenly humans come in and turn the lights on and behave as humans normally do. The ghost must hanker to the good old days when he too was human. Imagine a ghostly lifetime without chocolate? Maybe that's why they're always miserable.

Do ghosts age? Or do they stay the same age as the person who died? Could it be possible that the paper tissue I saw was indeed a baby ghost? Are a collection of ghosts a roll of toilet paper? You don't see many of them these days.

Are ghosts always humans, or could animals become ghosts? Can you imagine a whale of a ghost? That would be very big to even enter your house. Our home is so small we would have sardine ghosts.

How about inanimate objects? Can they be ghosts too? Can you imagine a chair being a ghost? As you come to sit on it it moves away and you fall to the ground as all the other chairs and the table laugh.

How about the bed being a ghost? What stories it could tell!

I think my mind is all over the place right now thinking about ghosts.

How about you telling us your experiences or beliefs about ghosts. Is it true they can walk through walls? Or through a key hole?

What happens if you put a key in the keyhole just as a ghost is passing through? Do you get a ghost with an eye patch on one eye?

And finally ... do ghosts go to the toilet? If not, why are there sometimes droplets on the floor?

Face to face with a ghost

Do you believe in ghosts?

Up to a couple of days ago I did not. But now ... ... ...

Usually, in spooky stories, ghosts are found in big mansions somewhere remote, near a forest or something like it; in old windy, cold and damp castles, stately homes and the like. But not in my case.

There I was in an old boat in the North sea just off the shores of Scotland. Actually, it was more than an old boat. It was a large fishing trawler about fifty years old with a crew of about twelve people. It was night. Although the sea was relatively calm the boat was bobbing up and down, and swaying left and right, as it struggled its way through the waves. It was cold with a strong drizzle which had not yet decided to turn into proper rain.

The fishermen were all on deck preparing for a good night's work. I decided to go to my cabin and call it a night.

As I got into my bunk I tried my best to get some sleep; which was difficult with all this to and fro of the boat and the ominous creaking noises it made as it fought the icy seas and howling wind.

It was then that I felt another presence in my cabin. You know the feeling? When you are alone at home, especially at night, and you think you've heard someone walking upstairs, or that someone is in the house with you, someone is there, watching you, meaning you harm. Well, that's how it was for me. I was lying there in my bunk bed when I felt there was someone with me in the cabin. I switched on the little light by my bed and there he was ... a man sitting on the wooden chest not five feet away.

I got up quickly and hit my head on the bunk bed above me. Why do they make these contraptions so small?

He looked like, I suppose he was ... a pirate. He looked like the pirates you see in films. About six foot tall I should say, although you cannot tell when a man is sitting down. With a big red bushy beard, and an eye patch on his left eye. He did not have a wooden leg or a hook for a hand; but he did have a sword on his belt.

I believe he was a vegetarian ghost pirate because he had a carrot perched on his shoulder.

I was afraid out of my senses and I must have cried a little because I felt the tears trickling down my legs.

I did not know what to say ... or do ... It was not possible to jump out of my bunk and out of the cabin because he was sitting on the wooden trunk by the door. I must have mumbled something incoherently because he answered back.

I could not understand a word he said. He was speaking in a foreign language ... Scandinavian, or was it Swedish, Norwegian or Finnish? Or was he talking in Viking language seeing we were in those seas the Vikings used to sail many years ago. What language did the Vikings speak? He was not wearing a Viking hat like in the movies. You know, a helmet with horns on either side! But he did have long red hair.

He got annoyed that I did not respond so he spoke to me again in this foreign language; this time more menacingly.

Why is it that when Jean Luc Picard and the crew of the Enterprise go to various planets and galaxies they always find other species speaking proper English; and here I am, in the sea not far from Scotland and I cannot find a ghost that speaks English?

Now there's a sentence I never thought would cross my mind.

I did what we Brits always do when we are not understood abroad. I spoke very slowly and very loudly.

"WHO ARE YOU?" I asked gaining a little courage as I had stopped crying.

He must have understood me because he moved back a little sitting on the trunk and said "Gogin !!!"

"Gauguin, the painter?" I asked stupidly.

"GOGIN" he repeated angrily.

Then I followed with another stupid and somewhat obvious question, "ARE YOU A GHOST?"

Obviously, he understood me. Perhaps he learnt English when the Vikings invaded Britain.

"Gogin ghost" he repeated, calming down a little.

I pointed to my left eye and asked, "WHY YOU HAVE EYE PATCH?"

He smiled and said, "As ghost, I go through key hole and someone put in key at same time!"

I reciprocated his smile and as I did so he slowly faded away and disappeared.

I got out of my bunk and went to the sea chest on which he was sitting. I touched it to make sure he was no longer there. Had I imagined the whole thing? Was it a dream? I kicked the wooden trunk hard to make sure I was wide awake.

I got out of the cabin and when I got on deck I muttered to two fishermen mending the nets, "I ... I have just seen a ghost!"

"Oh, it must have been old Gogin," they said, "he often appears when we sail these waters!"

A Ghostly Experience

Not many people believe in ghosts. I didn't either. Until one day I saw one. Yes, I saw a ghost and he spoke to me. I'll never forget the experience.

It happened years ago on a dark and wintry night in the depth of a mountainous region of Scotland. I was driving late at night after visiting some business customers up North and somehow I lost my way. It was the days before satellite navigation systems and cell-phones to help you communicate and get from one place to another. It was raining heavily with thunder and lightning brightening the skies for brief intervals and piercing the darkness of the road ahead. As usually happens in ghost stories and movies, my car eventually stopped having run out of gas. But this was for real. Not a movie script which I could put down and return to my reality sitting next to a warm fire with a hot chocolate drink in my hands. This was for real. My car stopped in the middle of nowhere on a cold rainy night with thunder and lightning for companionship. I swear I heard the howling of some wild creature in the distance.

What was I to do? I couldn't stay in the car all night and possibly freeze to death. Or be tinned food for whatever hungry creature is out there. I had no blanket in the car and I'd forgotten my overcoat at the office of the business I was visiting on behalf of my employer.

So there I was. All alone in a car with no means of communication. Cold. Hungry. Afraid. And I wanted to go to the toilet too. I should not have had that second cup of coffee they offered me. Coffee is quite diuretic, you know.

Stupidly perhaps, I decided to get out of the car and water a nearby tree. I could hold it no longer. Moments later I was back in the car totally wet and even colder than before because of the driving rain; but greatly relieved. After all, I had to do what I had to do and I could not do it from inside the car.

Now back in the car I was shivering and my teeth were chattering in tune with my racing heartbeat. My wet clothes stuck to the leather seat. My shoes and socks were soaking wet throughout. Because of the rain ... the rain ... are you paying attention? Please don't make up your own jokes at my misfortune.

Stupidly again, I decided to get out of the car and walk in any direction trying to find shelter. I locked the car and walked ahead in total darkness and driving rain, (or should I now say walking rain?). Every so often my solitude was broken by the occasional clap of thunder followed by a flash of lightning. (This was Scotland where thunder comes first because up North sound travels faster than light. Everyone knows that!)

Anyway, after walking for about half an hour there it was. Not a castle, as you'd expect in the Highlands. But a house. Admittedly a large house; again just like you'd expect in horror movies, big and dark with overhanging trees and climbing ivy everywhere. But not a castle.

I knocked at the door ... no bell. And eventually, after what seemed an eternity an old man opened the door.

He was wearing an eye patch. What I mean, he was wearing clothes, very old clothes, and he had an eye patch on. Did you really think he was wearing nothing else but an eye patch? I wish you'd pay more attention.

"Och aye ... It’s a dreich day! Aye right." he said in his native tongue. I didn't understand a word he said, so I asked him whether I could seek shelter for the night.

"Yer're drookit!" he said, "Aye ... come in ... come in ..."

I entered a dark room lit by a couple of candles. He beckoned me to sit by a small log fire to keep warm. As I sat there still shivering he walked away towards the wall and vanished through it. My blood ran cold. A shiver, ran down my spine ... that's a new shiver, not the one I was shivering with previously. I could have said a frisson, but I was in Scotland not France. So a shiver it was ... och aye!

I could not believe my eyes. The man had actually walked through a wall. Admittedly, it was dark, I was cold and freezing wet and quite hungry, but I assure you I was not hallucinating. I did not imagine it. The man just walked towards the wall and vanished through it. The experience made me want to go to the toilet once again; and this time it had nothing to do with the coffee. I must have cried in fear a little because I felt tears running down my leg.

Moments later he returned through the wall just as he had vanished. He stood there looking at me with one eye. The other eye was covered by an eye patch, remember.

My knees were knocking together in rhythm with my heart and chattering teeth. I had butterflies in my stomach and their knees were knocking too. Even my goose bumps had goose bumps of their own.

"Are you ... are you  ... a spirit?" I heard myself mumble.

"Yer mean ... be I a drop of whisky?" he muttered, "Of course not ... I be a ghost ... A ghost, laddie. I been here fer' years. Och aye! Trapped in this house of doom fer ever, laddie."

I gulped and asked "Are you the ghost of a pirate? I mean ... the eye patch ..." I continued pointing at his face.

"Och no ... laddie," he said, "this be no pirate's doing! I got this one day as I was sliding through a keyhole and someone put a key in it. Occupational hazard for us ghosts!"

I smiled and said nothing.

"Now I just walk right through walls and solid objects" he said in perfect English, "much safer what?"

I picked up a bottle of vintage whisky nearby and took a gulp to keep me warm.

They found me the next morning fast asleep with an empty bottle beside me.