Story 513: Haunted House for Sale

            (In a centuries-old Victorian-style house surrounded by an empty field, Ghost 2 hovers in an armchair in the parlor reading a book with semi-materialized hands when Ghost 1 floats in through the closed door)

Ghost 1: You won’t believe what just happened!

Ghost 2: (Looks up from the book) Hm?  Oh, I probably will – what is it?

Ghost 1: That real estate agent we keep having to chase away once a month came back and slapped an “Under Contract” sticker on the sign outside!  Didn’t even get out of the car to do it; just leaned out the window and then drove away right after, the coward!

Ghost 2: Huh.  But there hasn’t been anyone actually inside the place for decades – who would’ve bought it sight unseen?  Sounds like a bad investment to me.

Ghost 1: I know!  We slipped up big-time, I tell you: the buyer must’ve seen old photos posted online and now wants to turn this into a –

Ghost 2: Don’t say it!

Ghost 1: – bed-and-breakfast!

Ghost 2: NOOOOOO!!!!  We’ll be surrounded by weekending tourists, all week long!

Ghost 1: We should never have let this happen – I told you we needed to branch out and start haunting the Internet!

Ghost 2: I know, but it seemed such a hassle.

Ghost 1: Well, it’s too late now!  The relaxation-seekers will be streaming in any minute, demanding rustic atmosphere and French toast and quilted tea cozies and guided hikes until I’ll wish I could throw up but I literally don’t have the stomach for it!  This is our house, our land, forever has been, and forever will be!

Ghost 3: (Sticks head in through the door) Actually, the land this house was built on originally was part of the homeland of the Nanticoke Lenni-Lenape Tribal Nation, so I think they’d have a few words to say about that.

Ghost 1: (Points to Ghost 3) I… retract my prior statement.

Ghost 3: Gotcha.  (Ducks back out)

Ghost 1: (To Ghost 2) So what’re we going to do?!

Ghost 2: I think we should wait and see who actually bought the place and plan the hauntings accordingly – who knows, they could just be a stereotypical family who only need a few slamming doors and tipped-over chairs to make them run away screaming for their lives.

Ghost 1: (Tries to throw self onto the couch and instead hovers slightly above it) Ugh, I thought we were done with all this; full-out hauntings are sooooo exhausting!

Ghost 2: I know, but unfortunately they’re a necessary evil if we want any peace during our indefinite stay here.

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

(The new owner of the house arrives at night, during a full moon with a werewolf howling in the distance)

Owner: (Unlocks the front door and turns on the main light) Helloooooo, ghosties, anyone home, heh-heh-heh?

(Ghost 1, Ghost 2, and Ghost 3 watch from behind the railing along the second floor hallway facing the entrance)

Ghost 1: Great, we’ve got a comedian.

Ghost 3: At least it’s not ghost hunters again – the last group made such a mess.  Although, it was a lot of fun messing with them, so, yeah.

(Owner sets down an overnight bag, closes and locks the front door, and begins slowly exploring the rooms)

Owner: (Shouting up at the ceiling and the second floor) DON’T MIND ME, I’M ONLY MAKING SURE NOTHING NEEDS MAJOR REPAIRS, NO DESECRATION IS INTENDED, I’M CERTAIN WE CAN ALL LIVE – oops – I MEAN, EXIST TOGETHER IN PEACE AND HARMONY!

Ghost 1: Wow, this one’s noisy – want me to release the chandelier now?

Ghost 2: No!  It’ll probably be too expensive to replace this time and they’ll just chuck it.

Ghost 1: Good point.

(Owner turns on the light for the staircase and hallway and slowly walks upstairs, unknowingly toward the ghosts)

Owner: I’M CHECKING THE BEDROOMS NOW, SO HIDE ANY UNSEEMLY LITEREATURE YOU HAVE BEFORE I GET THERE, HEH-HEH-HEH!

Ghost 1: (As the three watch Owner pass behind them) I am two seconds away from a spirit possession to make this one fall right back down the stairs.

Ghost 2: Easy there.

Ghost 3: Um, you two keep an eye on all this; I just gotta check in my room for… something.  (Quickly floats down the hall and through a bedroom door)

Ghost 1: (Stares disgustedly after Ghost 3) Unbelievable.

(After an uneventful search of the rooms, Owner stops at the attic door)

Owner: (Half-turns around) I’M GOING TO THE ATTIC NOW!

Ghost 1: Yippee.

Owner: (Unlocks the attic door, turns on the light, and slowly ascends the stairs) PLEASE DON’T HAVE A HANGING BODY OR YOUR IMAGES REFLECTED IN A MIRROR BEHIND ME OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT, OK?

Ghost 1: Don’t worry; I never repeat myself.

(Ghost 3 floats out of the bedroom back to the other two)

Ghost 3: So, what’d I miss?

Ghost 2: (Points to the open door at the end of the hallway) Attic.

Ghost 3: Ah.  What’s up there this time?

Ghost 1: Oh, maybe the diary I left open to the page detailing how I slaughtered my entire family, or maybe the newspaper article detailing how the demon we summoned took forever to drive us all mad, or maybe the blood writing on the wall detailing how the house slowly came alive and consumed us out of spite, or maybe something else entirely, I forget.

Ghost 2: You know, I haven’t checked up there in a while, I hope we didn’t leave all that stuff lying out together – I think that wouldn’t be so much terrifying as confusing.

Ghost 1: (Thinks on this) Drat.  Well, there’s always Plan B.

(Owner comes back down the attic stairs, turns off the light, closes and locks the door, and starts walking back to the main stairs, looking very confused; Ghost 1 floats over and materializes immediately in Owner’s path)

Ghost 1: Boo.

Owner: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!  (Runs all the way downstairs, grabs the overnight bag, unlocks the front door, stops halfway to the car, runs back inside the house, turns off the main light, locks the door, runs back to the car, and speeds away with tire marks on the driveway all the way to the main road)

Ghost 2: (To Ghost 1) Well done!  Another one out of our afterlives forever!

Ghost 1: Thank you – I’ve still got it.

Ghost 3: You don’t think anyone else’ll come along after this one, do you?

Ghost 1: Oh, I highly doubt it.  (Looks determinedly at the closed front door) But if they do, we’ll be ready for them, forever have been, and forever will be!

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

(Ghost 1, Ghost 2, and Ghost 3 are in front of the house staring at the new sign: “COMING SOON: LUXURY TOWNHOUSES!  WARNING: TOWNSHOUSES WILL BE UNAFFORDABLE FOR MOST PEOPLE AND SUBJECT TO GROUNDWATER FLOODING”)

Ghost 3: So, how does it work if we no longer have an actual house to haunt?

Ghost 2: I suppose we finally, at long last, move on?  Eternal rest for our mildly tormented souls?

Ghost 1: Nah: this just means there’re more houses for us to haunt.

Story 463: A True Haunting

(Friend 1 and Friend 2 are sitting at the kitchen table in Friend 1’s apartment)

Friend 1: You know what bothers me about this time of year?

Friend 2: (Looks up to think) Umm, the inconsistently cold weather?  The visibly dying plants?  The hibernation-prepping squirrels running all over the place?  The forgotten promise of spring, the lost joy of summer, and the threatening doom of winter?

Friend 1: Well, all that stuff now that you said them, but no, not at the moment, anyway.

Friend 2: Then what?

Friend 1: Ghosts.

Friend 2: You mean Halloween?

Friend 1: Nah, I love Halloween, but its downside is that it raises The Ghost Issue, and frankly I’m tired of it.

Friend 2: Didn’t realize there was a Ghost Issue.  What’s that involve?

Friend 1: Just that a certain percentage of The Living is obsessed with The Ghosts, but nobody really gets what they are.  For example: what do you think a ghost is?

Friend 2: Uh, well, let me think…. I’d have to say the spirit of someone left behind with unfinished business that needs resolving.

Friend 1: (Points briefly to Friend 2) Wrong!  That’s what most people think, and it’s absolute baloney.

Friend 2: OK, if you’re so wise in the ways of the supernatural, then why is that wrong?

Friend 1: Because nobody would ever stick around this mess, possibly for centuries, just to slam some doors shut suddenly or lower the thermostat several degrees or rearrange the furniture ever so slightly to the delight of tourists everywhere.

Friend 2: What about the unfinished business?

Friend 1: There are better ways to point out who knocked you into the spirit world than messing up a sock drawer or whispering a random syllable in the hopes that someone out there is a real-life Sherlock Holmes who has the time and the resources to piece together the rest of it.

Friend 2: Better ways like what?

Friend 1: Spirit possession.

Friend 2: Ew.

Friend 1: And I can’t stand those books and movies where you actually see the ghost walking around and they have full-on conversations with the main character, as if they were still alive but just had invisibility and teleportation superpowers.  Once you’re gone, you’re gone; there’s nothing left for you to do because you’ve moved on to bigger and better, and that’s that!

Friend 2: All right, then how do you explain all those sightings and paranormal experiences so many people’ve had for ages and ages?

Friend 1: (Thinks for a few moments) Mass hysteria.

Friend 2: Oh, please.

Friend 1: Fine, I admit that sometimes there’s something people see, or hear, or feel – usually it’s the power of suggestion from the ghost tour guide, but my theory is that all that stuff is just… an echo.

Friend 2: What do you mean?

Friend 1: For instance: imagine if someone were, you know, murdered – (Friend 2 double-takes) there’d’ve been a lot of energy expended at the time, and some of that energy didn’t dissipate for whatever-physics reason, and that’s what people are experiencing.  A video on repeat, forever.

Friend 2: Hm.  Maybe.  But what about the non-murder ones?

Friend 1: Huh?

Friend 2: You know, the ones where people say they see ghosts doing everyday things like writing in their diary or walking the dog or napping on the couch?

Friend 1: Oh, those: either they want to see something so badly that they’ll see what they want to see; or they’re seeing someone who’s actually alive and they assume the figure was a ghost; or they took a little mind-altering something earlier and don’t want to admit it.

Friend 2: I guess.  So you basically believe there’s no such thing as what most people think of as ghosts, just echoes of energy, and you don’t like that ghost sightings and what-not increase exponentially this time of year.

Friend 1: Bingo.  Drives me up the wall.

Resident: (Sitting at the table across from them) Excuse me?

Friend 1: (Turns to Resident) What’s up?

Resident: I’ve been watching you two have the same conversation every morning since I moved into this apartment last month, and I wanted to see if it would end differently if I interrupted.

(Friend 1 and Friend 2 stare at Resident, then at each other in slowly mounting horror)

Friend 1: Start again then?

Friend 2: Please.

Friend 1: You know what bothers me about this time of year?

Friend 2: (Looks up to think) Umm, the inconsistently cold weather?  The –

Resident: (Sighs, then returns to eating a breakfast packet and watching the holographic newsfeed displayed above the table) Just my luck: I move into the one place with a self-referential Echo Issue.

Story 412: The Real Haunted House

 (Friend 1 and Friend 2 park in the overflowing lot at the multi-purpose farm, then head over to the main entrance to stand on the extremely long line for tickets)

Friend 2: (At the sign reading “Line Wait Time: Approx. 40 Minutes”) This place had better be worth the admission price, especially after last year’s debacle.

Friend 1: Hey, we both wanted to do something different then – is it my fault their only employee was an actual werewolf?

Friend 2: Keep your voice down: do you really want everyone here to know about that?

Friend 1: (Whispers) Oh right.  (Back to normal volume) You have to admit though, we were never in any real danger except what we inflicted upon ourselves.

Friend 2: I’d agree, if the place had been more upfront about the whole thing.

Friend 1: Where’s the scary fun in that?

Friend 2: (After a few moments of the line inching up and them staring out at the eerily twilit corn maze, eerily shadowed farmhouse, and eerily distant highway) So, this haunted house is just the usual actors jumping out at us and hidden speakers playing Halloween’s Greatest Hits and impressive decorations and screams all around, right?

Friend 1: (Stares at the farmhouse a bit longer, then turns to Friend 2 distractedly) Huh?

Friend 2: I said, this place just has regular human beings banging the walls and getting up in our faces in a less-than-30-story building, right?

Friend 1: Oh sure, sure.  (Stares at the farmhouse some more) Surrrrre….

Friend 2: (In a flat vice) What aren’t you telling me?

Friend 1: Oh nothing, nothing; this place just caught my eye `cause the ad said it was a “Real” Haunted House – they forgot the quotes around “Real,” though – I was tempted to call the newspaper’s advertising department but then realized it was this place that’d created the ad so they’d have to be the one to fix it and it’d be too late by now so, yeah.

Friend 2: (Staring at Friend 1) I’m going to remind you of this conversation after tonight’s certain disaster.

Friend 1: No need.

(An hour later, an employee leads Friend 1 and Friend 2 into the farmhouse with four other guests.  The employee is dressed as a lazy witch: half a hat, a shawl thrown over a sweater and jeans, and a fake wart threatening to fall off a cheek)

Employee: (Addressing the group inside the farmhouse after closing the front door) All right: this was a working farm in 1840-whatever; you can read all about the soul possession and nightly raves the family here had on the large sign you passed on the way in; follow the glow-in-the-dark arrows on the floors to navigate through the house and exit out the back; don’t touch anything; if you break any of the property you will be recorded on camera and billed starting at $200; I am legally required to remind you that any and all of the ghosts, goblins, ghouls, demons, monsters, trolls, zombies, etc., etc. you may or may not encounter are real due to the current property owner’s securing them for your entertainment, the effort of which is reflected in your ticket price; that purchase indemnifies and holds harmless said owner and all ghosts, goblins, etc., etc... that’s about it, have a spooktacular time, bye.  (Pushes through the group to exit the front door and lock it)

(The farmhouse is suddenly plunged into darkness when all the faint hall lights go out, save for the glowing arrows on the floor leading to a kitchen; a muted cackling is heard through the ceiling directly above their heads, a rattling chain speaks close by, and a neon digital clock on a wall buzzes to life and begins counting down from 30 minutes.  Most of the group pull out their cell phones and activate the flashlight app, illuminating their faces)

Friend 1: So, who’d like to go first?

Friend 2: That sounds like a volunteer.

Guest 1: All that stuff about the ghosts here being real was just a joke, right?  It’s just a bunch of teens and sound effects, right?  Right?!

Guest 2: You are not wimping out on me again this year!

Guest 1: I’m not wimping out!  It’s just sometimes people get carried away at these things – I’m only being sensibly cautious!

Friend 2: Supposedly, this is a really real haunted house.  As in, really-real.

Friend 1: Real is such a subjective term.

Friend 2: Is it?!

(Employee unlocks the front door and leans inside, knocking the half-hat even more askew)

Employee: Clock’s ticking, people, get a move on!

Guest 1: But –

Employee: No refunds!  (Slams the door and locks it again)

Guest 3: Guess that’s that, then: we have no choice but to go forth into the terrifying unknown.

Friend 2: Technically, we always have a choice –

Friend 1: No we don’t!  Onward!  (Leads the way to the sinister kitchen)

(As the group enters the room, there is movement by the low-lit fireplace; approaching, they see several trolls playing cards on the hearth)

Troll 1: King of clubs?

Troll 2: (Checks hand) Go fish.

Troll 3: (Sees the humans) Hi there!  Want us to deal you in?

Group: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

(They flee the room, making sure to follow the arrows)

Troll 2: (To Troll 3) I keep telling you, don’t bother being friendly to them, they simply don’t appreciate it.

Troll 3: Can’t help myself.

(The humans run across the hallway to a family room, where cursed children are playing marbles and destroying the furniture)

Cursed Children: No grown-ups!  No curfew!  No rules!  Wheee!!!

Group (Except for Guest 4): AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Guest 4: What a bunch of brats!

(The cursed children simultaneously stop, turn to stare at the guests, and open their mouths)

Cursed Children: Waaaaahhhh!!!!

Friend 1: Oh no, crying children, my worst nightmare!

(The group run out of the room and are stymied by the arrows pointing in two directions, one set up the staircase and one set toward the open basement door)

Friend 1: Wanna split up?

Guest 1: Are you kidding?!  We’ll never be seen again!

Friend 1: How about we do the basement first and upstairs after?

Guest 1: Are you kidding?!  I don’t even do regular basements!

Guest 2: Wimp!

(Ominous banging and moans are heard from below)

Friend 1: Maybe we should take a vote.

Guest 1: Are you kidding?!

(A nearby speaker on the wall crackles)

Speaker: Keep moving, folks!  Don’t make us come in there and kick you all out!

Guest 3: Was that a ghost?

Guest 4: Nah, probably just the lazy witch again.

Friend 1: Executive decision!  (Runs full speed ahead down the basement stairs while the others stand and stare; within a minute, Friend 1 runs back up the stairs and slams the door shut, out of breath with an ashen face)

Friend 2: What was down there?

Friend 1: Bothing – noring – I mean bothering – let’s go upstairs!  (Runs up the stairs to the second floor)

(After hesitating a moment, the others run upstairs and they all follow the arrows to the master bedroom; upon opening the door, they see several vampires surrounding a pal drinking from a steaming goblet)

Vampires: Chug!  Chug!  Chug!  Chug!

(The group quietly closes the door and proceeds as a clump to the attic stairs)

Friend 1: Maybe the twist’ll be it’s just bats up there.

Friend 2: Not another word out of you.

(They creak up the stairs slowly; at the top, they see a variety of monsters gathered around a table that has a boatload of candles – a decaying ghoul is attempting to blow them all out.  Guest 1 points a shaking hand at an overhead banner that reads “HAPPY 4,287,633,815,990^TH BIRTHDAY!!!!”  After blowing out all the candles, the Birthday Ghoul is given a wrapped present by a banshee)

Birthday Ghoul: Aw, you guys, this really is too much!

Friend 1: (To Friend 2) Think we can ask for a piece of cake?

Friend 2: I doubt it’s meant for our digestive systems.

(Guest 2 is tapped on the shoulder and turns to see a smiling demon)

Demon: Howdy, sinner – you can come with me now.

Guest 2: (Steadily increasing in pitch) Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa – ?????!!!!!!

Guest 1: Oh go on – don’t wimp out on me!

(A human wearing a shirt that reads “SECURITY” bounds up the attic stairs and quickly squirts the demon with a spray bottle that has a cross printed on the label)

Demon: (Wiping face) Ow!  Right in my eye!

Security: No souls here, how many times do we have to tell you?!  (To Guest 2) You all right?

Guest 2: Whaaaaaa – ?!

Security: Good.  (Turns and heads back downstairs) You all have less than five minutes on the clock so exit the farmhouse immediately when you’re back on the first floor.

(The group starts to run downstairs; Friend 1 peaks back into the attic)

Friend 1: Happy Birthday!

Birthday Ghoul: (Waves the unwrapped present, which is a hand-knit shawl) Thank you!

(Friend 2 yanks Friend 1 down the attic stairs, and the group huddles together to run down the main stairs and head to the back door.  Before they reach it, a zombie hand pops up from the broken floorboards in front of them)

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Zombie: (Crawls up out of the floor and stands while brushing off dirt; small limbs also fall off) Am I too late?  Are you all on your way out?  (They nod in terror) Darnit – I snuck away for a quick break after the last group and lost track of the time.  Still, guess it won’t be a total loss.  (Clears throat and straightens up) Brains?

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Zombie: (Takes a tally sheet out of a rotting pocket and makes a mark on it) Good, good – at this rate I’ll reach my quota by 11:00.

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zombie: Oh sorry, you can go now. 

(The zombie steps aside and the group run out the back door, screaming all the way.  A figure suddenly blocks their path and they stop running but continue screaming)

Property Owner: Hiya, folks!  (They stop screaming) Thanks for visiting my Real Haunted House tonight, where everything you came across in there is an ab-so-lutely, 100%, genuine spook, straight from the afterlife! Would you mind taking an exit survey about your experience?  (Guests 1-4 resume screaming and run into the corn maze) Typical reaction.  (To Friend 1 and Friend 2) You two interested?

Friend 1: We get paid for it?

Property Owner: Free admission for another tour through the farmhouse – outhouse included this time.

Friend 2: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

Friend 1: This one’s easily spooked.  (Is faced with grinding teeth)

Property Owner: Maybe I’ll catch you folks later.  (Heads back to a trailer to continue watching the house’s security cameras while eating popcorn and laughing)

Friend 2: (Glaring at Friend 1) How do you keep finding these places?!

Friend 1: (Watching the lazy witch fly a motorized broom artfully across the full moon) Just lucky, I guess.

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.