Monday, October 31, 2005

Tales From Wallachian Fables & My Reality - Volume 1


I was only a year old when my parents bought that big New Englander between the two bigger New Englanders. The house was sold to my parents by the man across the street, and the fact that my parents had a son, was actually a selling point for the old man who sold the house. You see it belonged to his mother, and she would have liked it that way. Seven boys and no girls this woman had in her day, and she spent over 80 years of her life in this house. It was not to be taken lightly you see, because she was NEVER going to let go of her house that easily, and especially not her boys, which she had already assumed my father and I in the role of. From everything that our neighbor had told us, she was a very wonderful old lady with some OCD issues, at best, but loved “almost everyone”, for she was not too taken in by women whom she thought were not good enough for her boys.

For those of you who have followed along in my blogs you will be happy to know that this is the first one that is co-authored by none other than Greektradgedius, as she needs to help me with the things I was too young to remember, and her memories of those instances are shockingly vivid. There were all the times she would sneak up behind her and start coughing, always coughing, as you should hear the tale from this old woman who I know will haunt this house some day {ok she already does actually}, and yet more tales about how I used to talk to her while the dog would stand up on it’s hind legs and beg to her. If my mother were here she would tell you about the coughing, and even share the tales about how she always ended up locked in the closet, or the pantry. It never ended the way my mother flat out said that that woman drove her away.

As the years grew without women in the house it was amusing actually as this old woman seriously was OCD, and I could very easily always invite friends over to watch the show. She absolutely LOVED animal crackers, and if I left them near her favorite window, she would always rustle through them whenever I had friends over {you know to prove I was crazy, and then left to tell everyone I wasn’t}, and it was clockwork. “7:10 pm by the window in my bedroom” {which coincidentally was hers}, was a common Jeremyism growing up, and I note that she always knew when daylight savings was too. As I had been growing older, my relationship with her was quite friendly, even though SHE never met a woman that I brought home that she would ever like. She played the coughing game, and the door locking game with every last one of them. Don’t even get me started about that eventful day around my 18th birthday {ok a lot after it I admit it}, that I lost my virginity. I have a feeling that that poor girl has never liked sex since, and it wasn’t just my poor performance either.

My “Gift” that was given to me by the ghost I grew up with, is that I can “Summon the Dead” {common terminology in old Wallachian, does not mean I call dead people simply means I ALWAYS know when there are ghosts present, and they actually fear me, if they are up to no good}, and it has never failed in all of the years I have lived. Even if I forget that I have it, it always comes back, when there is some sort of presence. The “Gifts” as it is told by all Wallachians {the descendants of the Wallachian Alps of Romania, that my mothers Grandmothers family comes from, and yes her great, great, great, grandfather was a soldier in the army of Vlad Draculis [pronounced … SED - PESH], and she was VERY proud of this}, are always handed to you by someone or something, and it will be with you forever. You will hand it to someone else, along your path, and it will bond you. Although, not as powerful as “Vision”, which is my mothers “Gift” {given to her by her grandmother} or “Fenting” {the ability to wish someone dead, which unfortunately my Grandmother has, given to her by God knows who, as nobody likes to admit they have it , and she has been terrified of it, as it has worked for her 3 times, it is still rather powerful. As it can only be given to you BY the dead, and it has NEVER been known to happen in the Sztephanic family at all, I am special. You can see where I get afraid sometimes when I see Captain ADHD talking to himself as I know that he had talked to her as well, and we all know he is special.

The first time you ever have a ghost walk through you, it is the second most terrifying experience I know, next to my blinding panic attacks. She would often do this on my way down the stairs, and it would take every ounce of strength I could muster to hold myself up by the railing. It would happen at least twice a week for over 20 years to me, and as I am writing this the icy darkness that fills your mind actually is giving me a headache right now. You would feel your feet rattle, and the whole blood system would turn to the most painful icy pain. I never understood why she did it as often as she did, but I think that she wanted to hug me once in a while, and might not have understood the effect that it had on a human boy. In time it didn’t get to be so bad, but I can honestly say I don’t miss it. The other habit she had, which might have grown annoying after a while, was the way she liked to watch you. You ALWAYS felt someone looking at you in the house, and my father would often just lay on the couch watching TV, and ask her if she liked the shows, as he flicked through the channels. The family consisted of My father, myself, and our ghost for 24 years until I moved out to take my first bride. For the record, my first two wives had met the ghost and EX1 at least made an effort to get along with her, as she thought that it was really cool. The ghost in the house “tolerated her” quite well, the second wife of mine actually wanted nothing to do with that house, as the ghost despised her, and often used tricks my mother was thankful never to see. It was the only time my mother liked the ghost actually as she totally despised EX2 as well.

When my father moved away to Florida, was when I rarely saw the ghost anymore. Even though I had moved back in her visits were few and far between. I think it was a sort of nether worldly depression, that finally blew up, when I placed the for sale sign out front of the house myself. The last time I ever encountered her {mind you I have never SEEN her} was when I was taking the last bit of stuff out of the house, and packing it all up to come over to this house that I sit in now. I stood up to lift up a box, and walk it outside, as it was the last box I had, and I felt that icy cold, and the pain in my feet that said she was walking through me for her last hug. The box I was carrying smashed on the floor, and I stood there paralyzed for almost ten minutes. I actually have tears streaming down my face as I am writing this, because after that day she was never felt again by anyone. The people who bought the house were actually delighted to hear about the ghost, and when they called me a couple of years later {two years ago to be exact} they were rather disappointed, that they had never encountered her. Until their son was born, and the dog and their son started acting rather funny. ;8o)