the Bucky Four-Eyes Cotillion

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Ghost posties

This creepy tale comes to you courtesy of the combination of threats from The Bully Currently Known as Jessica Rabbit. If anyone would like to take pity on me as a result of these threats of harassment from the Internet as a Whole, as well as the threat of blackmail for things we just won't talk about here (let's call it the Great Poodle Fiasco and be done with the subject), you are welcome to send gifts and cash donations. Nude photos are also mostly welcome, though I do reserve the right to scream and delete. Ghosts I can handle...ugly naked people, not so much.

I've mentioned here before that I grew up in a house that was most assuredly haunted. It wasn't a slamming-doors-and-glowing-spectres kind of haunting, though. For the most part, it was unexplainable sensations and feelings, and noises that shouldn't have been there.

The first floor was pretty much fine, except for maybe the music room, which never quite felt right, you know? Oh, I guess I should mention, we named the rooms in the house. On the first floor, we had, of course, the kitchen, living room, dining room, and bathroom. But then we also had the TV room (which didn't have a TV in it for long, but the name stuck) and the music room (this is where we all went to close ourselves in and practice our orchestra instrument of the moment, or, in Timmy's case, to tape himself playing viola, then play the tape over and over to fool Mom while he dinked around and played Strat-O-Matic Baseball in there).

The basement was a whole different story. The main room was somewhat alright, but then you had the Lab (I think one of my brothers had a chemistry set in there, and the name just stayed) and the toy storeroom (because we, um, stored toys in there), which both gave me an inexplicable sense of dread if I had to be in there alone. Of course, there was a practical reason for this in the toy storeroom, seein' as how it was possible (and fairly easy) to be locked inside that room. The family room downstairs was only borderline creepy, but the little storage room in the back of the family room was a different story. Of all the rooms in the basement, the Mushroom was the spookiest. My family is full of strange people. When we moved to Michigan, our cat Josephine ("Potato Chip Joe") was so freaked out that she hid in that room for a week. My dad warned that if she stayed in there too long, she would turn into a mushroom. Thus, the room got its forever name.

I'm pretty sure that the noises I heard would come from the Mushroom. It was never any loud, banging, rattling, wailing noises. No, none o' that cliche ghost bullshit for our house. On rare occasions when the house was quiet, you could hear the sound of a conversation coming up through the registers. It was never quite loud enough to understand the voices, but it was definitely voices. I'd always ask Mom about it, and she'd always blow it off and say "Oh, that's the TV" (um, no, the one TV in the house, which is not even in the basement, is off right now) or "That's the neighbors talking" (okay, then why don't I hear those conversations even better when I go out in the driveway right next to the neighbor's house?) And believe me when I say that I really, truly wanted to believe her explanations. It would have been much less unsettling for my little psyche. For years, if I was forced to go into the basement alone for something, I'd go and grab said item, usually with my eyes shut, and then race up the stairs as fast as my chubby little legs would take me.

Before you accuse me of just bein' basement phobic, I can assure you that I was alone in the basements of friends, and never felt the same kind of "presence" that I felt in my own basement. Take that for what it's worth.

As unsettling as the basement was, though, it did not hold a bony-fingered candle to Tardist's bedroom on the second floor. That room has earned itself the distinction of being known alternately as the Ghost Room and the Spooky Room.

Granted, Mom and Dad's room was no piece of cake, either. They had a little hallway inside their bedroom door, and there were storage closets built in across one wall of the room, with squatty little doors because the ceiling sloped down there. I used to always have nightmares that something would come out of those little doors and visit some havoc on the family. Mom could've hidden Christmas presents in there quite safely, as this nosy little shit wouldn't have dared to peek in behind those little wooden doors, not even for money.

But Tardist's room took the creep cake.

It was across the hall from all the other bedrooms, and was probably meant more for storage and attic access than for bedroom duty. The walls were never finished, and I don't know the exact term for the material, but they were almost like tough cardboard walls (anybody know what that's called, or even know what I mean?), and they were this pukey greyish-purple color. As you came into the room, immediately on the right was a little alcove with the attic door above it. And no, in all the years I lived there, I never even seriously considered exploring the attic. Are you nuts? I'll bet none of us ever did (though Squirl or Tardist might be able to set me straight on that). And, because the room wasn't nearly forbidding enough, Tardist painted the window to resemble stained glass. I have it on the best of authority that ghosts are just wild about stained glass. Across from the window is a storage cabinet that sits about chest high on the wall. For some reason, we kept a Ouija board in there (which I was always too freaked out to touch). Why, oh, why would we keep a Ouija board in a haunted room?

The scariest spot in that room for me, though, was the part of the room that was back around the corner from the window. When the ghosts weren't gathering in the attic, or playin' Ouija in the cabinet, I was positive they were congregating back in the corner part of the room, back where Mom and Dad could never see us in time to save us from...I don't know, certain doom? The whole doom and dread thing was always very general, more than vague, but never specific about what horrors would actually befall us at the hands of the haunts. They weren't overtly malevolent, but neither were they friendly. Thinkin' back on it, it's more like they were annoyed with us for bein' in their house. And when a family with five kids, multiple cats, and an obnoxious beagle moves in, who the fuck could blame a spook for bein' a little testy?

The only true incident that I can point to happened to Tardist, as he slept in the room longer than any of us did. He will have to fill in any details I miss. Sorry, Tardist, this should've been your blog story, but you just weren't fast enough to save me from the Wrath of Jess.

Tardist related to me, years after the fact, that even though he often felt unexplained presences in the room, as we all did, there was one time that the presence took a more active role in the haunting. One night, Tardist awoke with a start in the middle of the night and had the distinct sensation he was being watched from close up, and not by particularly friendly eyes. He looked, and didn't see anything, so he immediately tried to get up and go downstairs to shake off the feeling.

He couldn't get up. He told me it was exactly like someone was pushing down on his chest to prevent his leaving the bed. He felt watched, and he felt physically trapped while the watchin' was goin' on. He just stayed still for a long time, eyes closed and heart goin' a million miles a minute, and finally the feeling passed.

Correction from Tardist: I don't mind that you told the story of my room, but I do have one detail to change. When I tried to get out of bed that night and couldn't, feeling just like I was being held down, I freaked so bad that the moment didn't pass - I passed out and didn't wake up 'til the next morning. And I still have dreams (always eerie) about that room.

And yet he continued to sleep in that room! What the fuck?

The house became Timmy's house in the '80s, and I used to stay in the Spooky Room when I came to visit. Yes, it was still creepy as fuck, but I kept my bed right by the door, and frankly, I was usually so drunk I would pass out before the night spooks could start to freak me out. Plus, I don't believe Tardist related the trapped-in-bed story to me until later than that. Timmy won't even let his kids stay in there now.

I still have nightmares about that room. I probably always will. In fact, I'm crappin' my pants ever so slightly just thinkin' about it in detail like this.

So there you have it. Certainly not the most interesting or vivid ghost stories you've ever heard in your life, but hopefully this will be enough to get me off the hook with the Internet as a Whole.

Jess, call off the dogs, fer chrissakes!

Note: There is still nothin' in this world that's scarier than the sight of me, with a jumbo box of Tampax Supers in one hand and a bottle of Advil and a pack of back heatwraps in the other hand, chargin' down the aisle of the drugstore like I'm fixin' to come hurt you with 'em. Just ask the poor cashier boy at Walgreens.

34 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':

Blogger Candy said...

Oh baby, I knew you would come through with just a little, prompting. That was a very very excellent story and it makes me want to see that house so bad you just dont even know.

Thank you Bucky, you rock.

2:32 PM, June 21, 2005  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Geezly crow! It was creepy ENOUGH - in an English, fog-over-the-moors kind of way. Alcoves and little niches like that have GOT to be some sick bastard's idea of an architectural practical joke (motherfuckers).

I am creeped out by ghosty stuff and, although I'd never want to see Bucky charging at me with some vampire tea-bags and pain relief medications, possession doesn't scare me as much.

2:35 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Rooby Roo!

2:46 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Jess -- Thank you for callin' off the Internet as a Whole. I was a-skeered, even more so than by the ghosties.
Hey, iffen you actually wanna see the house, you just let me know. My bro Timmy lives there now, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I gave a haunted tour!

Dazed - "vampire teabags" -- you are soooo quotable this week! No wonder you need that 4:30 disco power nap.

Mr. B - If Rooby Roo is here, does that make me Raggy? (and after the last part of that post, I'm pretty sure it does)

3:02 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Deli mom said...

I don't ever want to see that house. I shudder just reading about it.

3:27 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Jinkies! I don't know. But 'round these parts, let us change it to:


3:48 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger SierraBella said...

OMG, I almost posted my ghost story today, but had to go and get busy with stuff!
Pretty creepy story here.
Conversation flowing through the register? The Ouija board stayed in the really haunted room?
What does your mom have to say about it now?
Have you tried Googling the address to see if an old story pops up?

4:56 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Double bagger - you know, it's weird how you can live there and get to the point where you just don't think about it all the time. I suppose it's how one copes?

Mr. B - All this is makin' me hanker for a Rooby Rack.
Er, that sounded bad, didn't it? You think Scooby wasn't hungry after all? Maybe he just wanted a girl with red tits?

Sierrabella - Can't wait to see your ghost story! I'll bet Mom would still pooh-pooh us if we brought it up today.

See, I'm fine talkin' about this all day long. But now that I've really thought about it, I'm gonna be all jumpy and shit tonight. Maybe I should get some video. That'd be humiliating and fun, kinda like my audio posts!

5:21 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger eclectic said...

Alright, that's as convincing a reason as I've ever heard to buy only new construction homes!!! Sheesh you guys -- you're creepin' me out and I live a LOOOONNNGGG way from your haunted ol' house!

I don't know, Bucky...I almost think I'd take the heat from ol' j.r. rather than stir up THAT ghostie pot!!

6:26 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger SWSNBN said...

I am freaked the FUCK out. How am I gonna sleep tonight?
I always have those feelings.

6:28 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Squirl said...

Oh, man, I had a dream the other night about going up the stairs in a house and running into some freaky entity. i ran back down the stairs trying to get the creepy feeling off of me.

That bedroom upstairs was the spookiest of all. Yes, the lab and toy room were bad. I tried to never go into the mushroom. But that bedroom upstairs was absolutely creepy. That little part off to the side was where I really felt it. Ugh, I didn't realize Tardist actually passed out from the thing pushing down on him. Yup, I'm creeped out now. No bathroom trips in the dark for me tonight.

7:37 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger c said...

The grayish-purplish wall sounds like drywall to me.

I LOVE alcoves and little niches, as long as they aren't haunted! I often hear conversations in my house as well, but I don't get any feelings of ill-will when I hear them. If I'm feeling creeped out, I'll say something, like, "OK, I hear you, you can stop now." And they do. But it's not usually creepy.

8:20 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger c said...

Oops, I should have added:

Click on picture number 6.

8:21 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

I like tits of any color.

Tardist! Wow! Talk about poultry goosts!

8:36 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Tardist - I added your correction to the body of the story as well. Thanks for the clarification!

Eclectic - I'm sorry, but I still think the tangible Wrath of Jess is scarier than the ethereal shivers of stirred ghost memories!

She who...Sorry, girl, Jess made me do it! Remember, she's the evil one who pushed me down the road to assless chaps. Hope you can sleep tonight. Just remember the magic blanket.

Squirl - Again, I was obviously forced into the telling of this terrible tale. Just don't drink too much before bed tonight...

Misfit - it seems like it was more crumbly/paper-machet-ish than drywall. I'm sure there's a simple name for it, but I'm pretty simple myself when it comes to the specifics of construction materials! Sounds like your "friends" aren't annoyed to have you around. That cracks me up that they'll stop when told to! Obedient ghosts!

8:59 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Mr. B - It's nice to know you're an equal-opportunity bazonga fan.

9:00 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Kranki said...

I live in a 100 year old house myself and so far nothing spooky. But as a kid I had a friend who had the spookiest basement so I know what you mean. It wasn't dark or scary. Just bad vibes. I think Timmy taping his playing and them fooling your mom was brilliant. Perhaps on some level he deserves the spooky house now.

9:54 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Amy said...


I'm skeered now. I HAD to read this whole damn thing and now I'se skearred, Miss Scahlett! You done skeeared poor Cissy wit your creepy stories! Why'd dat poor boy have to be helt down in his bed like that?

10:06 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Kranki - wow, I would expect a bit of a presence in a house the age of yours! You hafta wonder what makes 'em hang around, or resonate, or whatever it is they do. And yeah, Timmy actually seems pretty unfazed by the house. The prankster can wrangle the ghosts just fine.

Amy - Sorry to give ever'body the jeepers creepers. I'm just glad the ghost didn't use ME for a picnic table.

10:38 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Speaking of bazongas, I keep thinking the title of this post says, "Ghost Pasties"

10:54 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Mr. B - that would be the see-through pasties.

For ghostly nipples.

11:12 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Ethereal Aereola.

11:13 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Maven said...

Re: "...Tampax Supers in one hand and a bottle of Advil and a pack of back heatwraps in the other hand..." I had a day like that once. I think at the pharmacy I had in my basket:

Tampons or maxipads, extra longs, overnights;
Witch Hazel Hemorrhoidal wipes
Psorasis Shampoo

I looked at the cashier and said, "I'm obviously having a rough week!"

11:18 PM, June 21, 2005  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Contrary to what Eclectic and others might think about new homes being ghost-free, mine is not. We built it 7 years ago, and some odd things have happened. I think it might have come from a chest of drawers that my husband bought at a second-hand furniture store. My son has talked to nonexistent people, we've heard and smelled things, and I saw a man with no head. Anyway, it is too lengthy to write in your comments. My posts from June 2,3,4,5,6,7 were about my ghostly happenings. I still will not go into my basement without the light.

12:15 AM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger Jomama said...

My dad used to have dreams (as an adult) where something he couldn't see was holding him down in bed and he would try to call out to my mom, but he couldn't talk either. He said he had those dreams whenever he slept on his back. To this day, I have never once slept on my back.

6:18 AM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Nugget - something for every hole!

Hillbilly mom - Man, that would make me think twice about bringin' antiques into the house!

DP - never did hear any stories that might explain the presences...

Meggan - It was too much pressure for me. The Internet would not be denied its nudity.

Jomama - I think that would make me an avowed side sleeper, too, if I wasn't already one!

8:28 AM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger LadyBug said...

Creeeeeeepy, Bucky.

But I think Tardist and the Walgreens cashier should trade horror stories now. Little cashier boy is probably having his own nightmares.

10:10 AM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Bucky I updated one of my fav YPS!! images for ya:

1:58 PM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

LadyBug - at least we couldn't see the ghosts in our house. Poor Walgreen's boy has a picture in his head that will never go away.

Mr. B - now you're freakin' ME out!

2:25 PM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger Susie said...

What is this, the Scaredy-Cat-Illion? Eclectic, like the Hillbilly Mom said, and did you ever see a little movie called Poltergeist?

There is a "spirit" in this house. But it's not a bad one. It's something throughout the whole house, and it's positive, and the neighbors have told me that previous inhabitants have described it, too.

3:18 PM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger SierraBella said...

I finally posted my ghost story!
Come by and visit when you get a minute.

9:26 PM, June 22, 2005  
Blogger Sylvana said...

How geeky is this? I'm reading your ghost story and all I can think about is letting you know what that wallboard stuff is. It is called hardboard or "Masonite" (after the manufacturer that made most of it back in the day that it was popular to use as wallboard). I have a lot of it in my house and am slowly but surely replacing it with drywall. HUGE fire hazard!

I have experienced many a ghost in my lifetime. I have been a victim to their pranks as well as benefited from them. I have felt and even seen ghosts. It does help to ease your fears if you have had past experiences, but you know, it doesn't necessarily ease the excitement of hearing a good ghost story!
(got here from Sierrabella's blog. I think I might just post some of my own ghost stories :)

11:13 AM, June 23, 2005  
Blogger Katie said...

Your story about your house truly brought back memories from the house I grew up in, until we moved away when I was 12. The house was built around 1910, and was really a cute little home, but there was some truly creepy stuff going on in there. My mother has the best stories. When I was a baby, and my sisters were about 5 and 7, my mom was taking a nap mid-morning, and she felt someone sit on the edge of her bed and kiss her cheek. She opened her eyes, but no one was there. My sisters were at school, and I was too small to do something like that. She fell back asleep, and it happened again as she was dozing off. She even called my dad at work and accused him of playing tricks on her. There were all sorts of little alcoves and cupboards in this house, too. In my mom's bedroom closet, there was a window for some reason. Every time she would go down into the garden below, for about a week straight, the window would pop open. And the weird part was was that it was usually very hard to push it open.

As a kid, I always felt a presence. I remember thinking there was this kid named Billy that lived in my closet, and I was scared of him. We came to find out years later that an old couple and their retarded kid (named BILL) lived in that house way back when.

Our ghost was never mean, but he would do things just to make his presence known. Your story was wonderful, and I know what you mean when you say you get that FEELING of a ghost, even when you don't see one. It is really skeery.

1:09 PM, June 24, 2005  
Blogger A said...

Heya.. I'm a paranormal investigator, so I feel like chiming in. To the person said they'd only live in newly built homes, even then, you're not entirely safe from ghosts. It's not always about the building; even if the original residence was destroyed, the spiritual energy can still remain on the property or land. The thing to remember is most spirits can't or won't harm you.. the most dangerous types, which, fortunately, are pretty rare, are the inhuman (or demonic) entities because they have far more power than your average ghostie.

Also, I'm not knocking your experiences in the least because I believe people when they say they feel things, but Tardist's nighttime encounter sounds a lot like sleep paralysis. Many people (more than you'd expect) report the same sort of phenomenon.. waking up, feeling like there's something sitting on their chest or holding them down, feeling or seeing a presence (or something freaky scary) in the room with them, etc. It can cause extreme panic, especially since you can't move and you're convinced something is in the room with you.

3:12 PM, May 25, 2006  

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