Story 302: Where Are All the Hauntings?

            Friend 2: (Answering phone) What’s up?

            Friend 1: You doing anything this Labor Day weekend?

            Friend 2: Yeah, I gotta work.

         Friend 1: Oh, the irony.  This might actually work out cheaper, then – you free any other weekend in September?

            Friend 2: Probably all of them, why?

          Friend 1: I think it’s time we finally went down to ---- --- and see all the ghosts that supposedly infest the place for ourselves.

            Friend 2: This again?  You know I don’t believe that stuff’s real.

          Friend 1: Then how do you explain all of the sightings, hm?  The temperature-decreasings, the furniture-slammings, the spectral-frolickings, the creepy-whisperings, the –

           Friend 2: Power of suggestion, mass hysteria, and really, really old buildings on the verge of collapse.  People see what they want to see, or hear, or whatever.

            Friend 1: But the whole city is registered as a National Haunted Landmark!

            Friend 2: I think you mean a National Historic Landmark.

            Friend 1: Potato-potato.

            Friend 2: Not po–tah-to?

            Friend 1: You heard me.  So you wanna go middle of the month?

            Friend 2: Sure; I love the trolley tours there.

MID-SEPTEMBER

            (Friend 1 and Friend 2 stroll through a pedestrian mall in ---- ---)

            Friend 2: I wonder if that cooking shop is still here?

            Friend 1: (Consulting a book and points) We can find out later – first let’s go over to that Christmas store on the corner.

            Friend 2: Ugh, don’t talk to me about Christmas when it’s still technically late summer; it’s bad enough all the Halloween stuff’s put out right after the 4^th of July.

            Friend 1: We’re not going to shop, we’re… hunting.  For hauntings.

            Friend 2: Oh dear.  Does your little book there say that store has the Ghost of Christmas Past hanging out by the register, then?

            Friend 1: I will ignore your use of “little” as a disparaging term, and go inside without you.  (Heads over to the entrance)

            Friend 2: Meet you at the fudge shop later.

            Friend 1: Which one?

            Friend 2: (Turns around and sees there are five in their area) Uhhhh…. (Points to the one farthest away) That one will be my last stop.

            Friend 1: Glutton.  (Dashes into the multi-holiday store, stops in the middle of an area surrounded by Christmas, Winter, Thanksgiving, Halloween, St. Patrick’s Day, etc. decorations, closes eyes, spreads arms, and inhales sharply) Come spirits, I await thee and thy spookiness – (Is knocked over by passing shoppers who are trying to exit the store)

            Shopper: Sorry, excuse me!

            Friend 1: (Brushes off arms while getting up from the floor) Quite all right; entirely my fault.  (Is knocked over again by three more shoppers, then heads to a corner with tree ornaments to consult the book) Wait, it’s the other store in --- ------ that’s haunted?  Son of a witch.

            (In a local bed and breakfast, Friend 1 and Friend 2 settle in their twin beds for the night; a steady thumping is heard through the walls)

            Friend 1: This supposedly is the most haunted B&B in the entire state, and yet they have cable TV, free Wi-Fi, and not one ghost!

            Friend 2: (Trying to read a book about freshwater fishing) Maybe they only show up at midnight.

            Friend 1: It’s past midnight!

            Friend 2: So it is.

           Friend 1: I could have booked us separate rooms, you know – now you have to listen to me snoring all night, every night, until we check out.

            Friend 2: I’ll just dream about all the money I’m saving, thanks.

            (The thumping starts getting louder)

            Friend 1: (Gets out of the bed and puts on slippers) That’s it, I am not spending an entire night enduring that inconsideration.

            Friend 2: Be careful – they could be psychos.

            Friend 1: So can I.  (Tromps down the hall and bangs on their neighbors’ door.  The thumping continues, but there is no answer.  Friend 1 tries the knob, opens the door, and enters the room, stopping past the doorway – there is a couple in a queen-sized bed, looking petrified past Friend 1’s shoulder, and the thumping halts) Look, I know we’re all excited to be here, but some of us are trying to get some sleep before having a busy day relaxing tomorrow, so do you two mind knocking off the rave you have going on in here, m’kay?

            Both Guests: (Shakily pointing to the corner of the room next to the open door) Gh-gh-gh-gh-

          Friend 1: Good night?  Yes, good night to you too, now hush!  (Mutters) Tourists.  (Turns to leave) Oh!  (Is taken aback upon seeing a woman wearing an old-fashioned maid’s outfit standing in the corner) Finally, someone from Housekeeping shows up!  Your timing could be a little better, but when you’re done here could you stop off at my room down the hall, please?  I know this is a B&B where the guests have to supply their own drapes, but the trash bins could stand to be emptied every now and then, especially since we have no idea when garbage pick-up is around here, if you could be so kind?!  Thanks a bunch.  (Is about to close the door, then addresses the woman again) Love the uniform, by the way.  What’s the era supposed to be, 1920s?

            Maid: (In a hollowed-out voice) 1847.

           Friend 1: (Shrugs) Eh, close.  (Slams the door shut on the way out, tromps down the hall back to the room, and flings self back onto the bed)

            Friend 2: (Still trying to read) Everything work out all right?

           Friend 1: Oh yeah, we came to an understanding, they’ll shut up now, plus I got maid service to come over here and clean up this mess – wake me up when she gets here, huh?  (Immediately falls asleep and starts snoring)

            Friend 2: (Tilts head in confusion) But there isn’t any maid service here.

            (The next morning, Friend 1 and Friend 2 stroll with the crowd on the sort-of boardwalk)

            Friend 2: Weather’s nice – want to go to the beach later?

           Friend 1: (Roughly turning pages in the book) When there’re no lifeguards this time of year – are you mad?

            Friend 2: At least that means it’s free; we could just get our toes wet.

           Friend 1: What need have I for wet toes when I am attempting to locate the hundreds of souls who’ve drowned in these waters?!

            Friend 2: Ew.  Maybe come back at Halloween and they’ll show up then.

         Friend 1: (Stops reading) What difference would the date make?!  Ghosts know naught of calendars in the beyond!

            Friend 2: They might know aught about solar and moon cycles, though.

           Friend 1: I can’t believe we’ve trekked to all the spirit-world hot spots there are here, and not one spectral sighing in the bunch.  And meanwhile, we have to endure an off-season tourist influx of cosplayers surrounding us everywhere we go!

            Friend 2: Cosplayers?

        Friend 1: (Gestures at all the old-fashioned-dressed pedestrians sashaying around them) Behold!  The nerds en masse!  Is there a steampunk convention this weekend and I missed the announcement?!

            Friend 2: (Checks a brochure) No, I just see later today there’s supposed to be a pig roast.

         Friend 1: Barbaric.  (Spots activity up ahead) Ooh, a flogging!  (Trots off, followed in a confused hurry by Friend 2)

            (The next day, they begin the drive back home)

            Friend 1: (In the passenger seat) Well, that weekend was a bust.

            Friend 2: I thought it was very educational and restful.  Thanks for suggesting it; I had a lot of fun!

          Friend 1: Yeah, yeah.  (Gazes out the window back towards the city) All those stories and proper haunting conditions, and not one ghost.  (Watches a whaling ship sail out from the harbor while the car passes by a Victorian family riding high wheel bicycles) Not.  One.  Ghost.