I believe in ghosts in a “sure, why not?” kind of way. Or, more precisely, I believe that ghosts exist — but for other people, not me. Stuff moves around your house of its own volition? Okay, a ghost. Those sounds you hear on a windless night that could only be attributed to gusts of wind? You’ve got a ghost. And those weird images that sometimes show up behind you in a mirror? Could be a ghost (or just a really bad reaction to last night’s champagne cocktails).
So imagine my surprise when it became obvious that B. and I have apparently been hosting our very own specter. A mischievous kind of a ghost. Sort of like Casper with a hint of Robin Williams’ impishness. I know, I know. But just hear me out.
Our ghost seems to be a bit light-fingered; that is, things have begun to disappear from our home inexplicably. For example, our phone. One of our cordless phones just up and left. Last seen on the bedroom dresser — then poof! Gone. Thrown out? Nope. We went through the trash piece by piece. We called it, but no answer. Looked everywhere, but no phone to be found. Dial “G” for ghost.
Next up, the bread knife. Oh, sure, I know what you’re saying. People throw out knives all the time. Hard to imagine in this case. We’re talking a knife with a very sharp 8-inch blade. The kind of knife you would be well aware of if you mishandled it. Again, gone in the night (or the daytime), carried off by a ghost with a penchant for either homemade bread or swashbuckling.
And finally, a dinner plate from a fairly new set of dishes. There once were eight, but now only seven live with us. Do you want to tell me how a dinner plate just up and walks away? Did the dish run away with the spoon when the cow jumped over the moon? That’s just silly. I’m picturing a ghost flinging it around. (Talk about the ultimate frisbee. Nice backhand, by the way).
So we’re looking for a ghost who likes to work in the kitchen while on the phone; or one who has taken up 3-object juggling; or one who is calling in for takeout; or one who is collecting random objects for his appearance on Let’s Make a Deal (“I’ll give you $100 if you have … a dinner plate under that ghost costume!”).
In the meantime, I’m trying not to think about ghosts as I sit here and relax. Sipping my iced tea. Listening to the wind chimes tinkling softly in the background.
Except there isn’t even a hint of a breeze.
Uh-oh. Not in Kansas anymore.
© 2015 Claudia Grossman