I’m writing a ghost story. It’s set in contemporary coastal Maine and revolves around a po’d Philadelphia girl, a snarky Penobscot Indian boy, and a long-ago movie star. Somebody’s dead, although whether that body belongs to one of the above will have to remain a secret for the moment.
But this isn’t really about that work-in-progress. It’s more about the fact that instead of working, I’m staring out the window at the backyard of the house-around-the-corner. Which, so the story goes, is haunted. Really.
I’m lucky enough to be spending some time at the Shore this summer. Yep, the Joisey Shore, although a far more boring (if charming) town than where the MTV show is filmed. That said, it can’t be all that boring for some of my neighbors. Around the corner from us– we look across the street into their back yard– is a lovely old shingled house, dating from the end of the 19th century. It’s inhabited by a lovely young family from elsewhere. And it shows up in just about every East Coast/Mid-Atlantic haunted house book out there. There are multiple pix on Flickr of ostensibly ghostly lights in the windows. Apparently the original owners never left. The current owners’ response, when my husband asked (I would have been too afraid of seeming nosy and every bit as macabre as I probably am) if there were ghosts: “Oh, yeah. We hear them all the time.” I get to say the same thing about…well, the stream of renters two doors down.
So, are there or aren’t there? Who knows. I wish I were more of a believer, I suppose, but then, I do try not to discount things simply because I can’t prove they don’t exist. And, for the record, the dog hates hates hates going out at night. She hits the end of our driveway, stares into the shadows across the street, and shakes. Really.
Got a good ghost story? I would love to hear it!