From ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties...

Things that go bump in the night.

“Hold on, man. We don't go anywhere with 'scary', 'spooky', 'haunted', or 'forbidden' in the title!”

                                            Shaggy (Scooby Do)

My former husband's family own an old house on Block Island, RI. It was built around the turn of the 20'th century by a Sea Captain named Potter, whose primary business was in New York. It was strictly a summer home, not equipped with heating or air conditioning, and the water supply was from cisterns buried underground that collected rainwater flowing off the three-storied roof. The house was constructed entirely of unpainted cedar and stayed dark inside regardless of the brightness of the day. It had ten bedrooms, with the third floor being quarters for the Captain's 'staff'. When the good Captain died in the 1930's, his daughter, who never entered the house again, sold it, lock, stock and barrel, linens to dishes to furniture, to my ex-husband's grandmother.

To state that 'Potter-Place' gave me the creeps from day-one would not begin to sum up how I felt about it. Suffice it to say, I would not go into that house alone. One rocking chair on the long front porch always rocked, even when the wind was not blowing, and I never liked to pass by it. During summer storms, blue streaks of lightening danced down the dark hallways, and howling wind rattled all the shutters. The house stood on a cliff, one-hundred feet above the rocky shoreline of the Atlantic, and appeared to be brooding even from the water.

One summer when several of our friends were visiting us there, I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. I stepped into the hallway and saw a young woman walking toward the other end of the hall, her back to me. She wore a long gown and had curly, red locks of hair pulled into a rather elaborate 'do' at the back of her head. I thought she was my friend, Nell, and called to her, but she didn't turn. I followed her to the bedroom where Nell slept, thinking to catch up and see why she was still awake. When I entered the room, the woman was not there and Nell was sound asleep in the bed. Her short, red hair lay loose on the pillow.

Who she was, I do not know. But I suspect that she was the reason the Captain's daughter never went into the house again. Neither did I.

                                Happy Halloween, y'all,

                                   Jane