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by Drew
Rated: GC · Fiction · Comedy · #2046879
Evelyn gets a house make over from beyond the grave
HOUSE BEAUTIFUL
By Michelle Drew


I started to notice things being moved around in my house the morning after our daughter Onna’s wedding. Harry and I were both exhausted from the previous day’s events, as you can imagine, so we slept in unusually late that morning. Harry’s heavy snoring finally woke me at a quarter to 11.

Slipping silently from under the covers, I grabbed my robe and headed downstairs for some coffee. After all the excitement from the day before, some peace and quiet was exactly what I needed. , and besides, Harry had a lot more booze to sleep off then I did, so I left him sleeping.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs I was still waking up and having a devil of a time getting my arm through the sleeve of my robe when I noticed it, or rather, didn’t notice them. The flower arrangement I’d brought home from Onna’s wedding reception was gone.

I quickly ran through the evenings events in my mind. Harry and I had staggered in sometime around midnight. When my foot caught on the welcome mat and I almost dropped the enormous arrangement we were tipsy enough to laugh pretty hard about it. Then, I put the flowers on the small table in the foyer. I remember thinking that they kind of overpowered the little table and they might look better on the credenza in the sitting room, but I liked the idea of coming in the front door and seething them first thing, so I left them there. I was absolutely sure that when I went upstairs the night before, those flowers were in the foyer, and now, they were not.

On my way to the kitchen I saw no sign of the flowers. I made coffee and went to grab the paper off the front porch, then headed into the sitting room. I had just started to read the headline when I saw them. Sitting on top of the credenza in front of the large mirror were the missing flowers.

All I could do was stand there with my mouth agape. It was possible that Harry had moved them sometime during the night, but why? It didn’t seem likely. and if Harry had gotten out of bed, I would have known. He always woke me up getting out of bed. It was one of those marital pet peeves you just learn to live with. Even when we purchased a memory foam mattress, he still managed to make enough commotion to wake me. “Very odd.” I thought, then put it out of my head and settled in to read the paper and drink my coffee before Harry got up.

Later that day, I asked Harry about the flowers.

“What in the hell do I care where you put the flowers?” He’d asked impatiently. “You probably moved them before you came upstairs and just forgot.” But I knew I had not.

A week or so went by and I had pretty much forgotten about the flowers when it happened again. I was doing “the big clean” and decided to take on the china cabinet. It needed dusting badly. I started removing things from the top shelf when I noticed that the dishes and collectables had all been re-arranged.

I’d never really had an eye or the patience for interior design but I did appreciate order. So when we had first moved in 23 years ago I placed the china and things in a logical order. My grandmother’s china on the top shelf, my wedding china on the middle shelf and the lead crystal on the bottom shelf along with all the porcelain collectables, that Harry had begun buying for me every Christmas about 10 years ago. As I said before, I really never had the patience nor the inclination towards interior design so the contents of the china cabinet were not displayed nicely, rather just placed on the shelves. For 23 years they had stayed that way, until today. I took a step back and couldn’t believe my eyes.

My grandmothers China was now on the middle shelf in a beautiful display. I looked down on the bottom shelf and found my wedding china. It looked like something from a magazine. My lead crystal was no longer clumped all together but dispersed amongst all the china and each piece stood out beautifully. On the top shelf I found the porcelain figures in positions that made them seem animated. I had to admit, the whole thing looked amazing. It was at that point I realized that someone had already dusted everything as well. “Harry.” I thought.

I brought the china cabinet up at dinner that night.

“Harry, thank you for dusting the china cabinet for me,” I said smiling gratefully. “I like how you arranged everything. I never knew you had an eye for such things.”

“Huh?” Harry said looking at me quizzically.

“The china cabinet. When I went to dust it today I saw that you had already done it. That was very sweet of you."

“I have no idea what you are talking about Ev.” He said shoving a huge bite of meatloaf into his mouth.

I let the subject go. Harry had forgotten it before he’d even swallowed his food.

That week-end I thought about what had happened. The flowers seemed explainable but the china cabinet? That was freaking me out. Was I starting to get dementia or Alzheimer’s? I decided to make an appointment with Dr. Fitzsimons the next week. .

Dr. Fitzsimons ran some tests on me and told me it would be a week before he got the lab results.

“Evelyn,” he’d said sitting down next to me. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. I needed more convincing.

“Listen, when we get old, our brains get tired and our memory just isn’t as sharp as it once was. I wouldn’t worry about the test results and there’s no need to tell Harry right now. I’ll have them next week and I’ll call you, okay?” He patted my hand and stood up so I stood up as well.

“Okay doctor, and thank you.” I said and quickly left the room.

On the drive home, I had convinced myself that he was probably right.

I arrived home in a hurry, needing to get dinner started. It was bridge night and the Johnston’s were hosting this week. I didn’t want to be late. Mary Lou Johnston got a little testy with late comers. I quickly entered the house. Half way to the kitchen I stopped abruptly. I stood there for a second contemplating what I thought I’d just seen. Then I turned around and slowly walked back towards the sitting room.

In the sitting room I stood in shock and disbelief. The furniture had been completely re-arranged. Not just the furniture, but the pictures, knick knacks, even the throw pillows were not where they had always been.

“What the fuck?” I said out loud, heart racing. This was beginning to scare me. It made no sense. There was no way I’d forgotten doing a job this big. Why would somebody come into my home, and re-arrange an entire room? I walked around the room totally baffled. The thing is, the way the furniture was arranged, looked much nicer than the way I’d always had it. Everything seemed to fit better and the room looked bigger. The room looked freshly dusted and vacuumed as well.

Harry of course took no notice of the room when he came home and I said nothing to him about it over dinner. At the Johnston’s that evening, I partnered up with my good friend Joann. I couldn’t stop thinking about the sitting room and wasn’t playing very well. Joann kept giving me the “what were you thinking” look every time I laid down a card. When I slipped outside for a smoke, Joann followed me.

“Your head is not in the game tonight Ev,” she said even before she’d shut the door behind her. “Is something going on? Are you and Harry okay?” she asked obviously concerned.

“Oh yeah, were fine.” I said, trying to sound okay.

“Well something’s going on with you and I think you should tell me.” Joann grabbed the cigarette and took a puff.

I really wanted to tell someone, besides Harry. Someone who would listen and who might believe me and not tell me I was getting old.

“Okay, but keep an open mind.” I said, taking a drag off the cigarette and handing it back. I told her about everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks. When I was finished I asked, “So what do you think?”

“Sounds to me like you have a ghost.” She said stamping out the cigarette.

“You’re joking, right?” I laughed. I’m not the type to believe in that sort of thing.

“Not at all.” Joann said looking quite serious. “A lot of people have paranormal experiences.” I couldn’t believe I was actually listening to this “Although, I’ve not really heard of a ghost who cleans and has a flair for interior design before.” We both laughed lightening the mood.

“You should go home and do a google search for ‘paranormal experiences’. I guarantee you’ll find hundreds of other stories like yours. Might make you feel better?” Joann added.

I said I would, and before she could open the door to go back in, I grabbed her arm. “Joann, thank you.”

“For what?” she replied.

“For believing me and not thinking I’m a crazy old lady.” I said giving her arm a squeeze.

“Well now I didn’t say that…” she answered making us both laugh again.

As soon as I got home, I headed into the study to do a little research.

“Hey Ev,” I heard Harry yell down the hall. “I like what you’ve done in the sitting room, looks great.

“Thanks.” I said a little guiltily.

I stayed up passed 2 a.m. reading page after page about paranormal activity. Some of it was truly frightening. Ghosts that had become violent and forced people to leave their homes. Entities that pretended to be ghosts then possessed the person living in the home. The closest I found to my experience was a prankster ghost who liked to hide things. It looked like I had the only ghost who wanted to clean house. I went to bed that night with more questions than answers.

The next day I called Joann and told her everything I had read.

“What time does Harry get home, Ev?” she’d asked.

“I don’t know, 6:30-7:00. Why?”

“I’ve got an idea. I’m coming over. I’ll be there around 5, okay?”

“Okay, but wh-“Joann cut in impatiently.

“I’ll tell you when I get there.” She said. “Oh, and we’re going to need some candles” she added and hung up.

When Joann arrived at 5 on the nose, I had already figured out what she had planned.

“Joann, I’m not really comfortable doing a séance or whatever you’ve got cooked up.” I said before she’d even made it through the door.

She held out a bag and said “Not a séance. Take it.”

I found a Ouija board inside. “Are you serious? This is for kids parties.” I said rolling my eyes.

“Do you want to find out who’s been cleaning your house or not?” Asked Joann crossing her arms.

“Well hell, I guess it can’t hurt.” I said reluctantly. “Where should we do it?”

“We know it’s been in the sitting room at least twice. Its presence is probably strongest in there.” Joann was starting to sound like the ugly little lady from Poltergeist.

“The sitting room it is.” I said. “Oh, and grab the candles off of the dining room table.”

“Wow!’ Joann said coming in behind me. “Place looks great!”

“Thanks” I said sheepishly.

Joann read the rules aloud. Then, following the instructions we both put two fingers on the planchette . I had to stifle a giggle, feeling kind of ridiculous, but Joann was taking this very seriously so I tried to as well.

“Do you want me to start?” asked Joann. I nodded.

“Okay, here we go, and remember you need to concentrate on the question. Give it a chance Ev, it might work.” I agreed. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate.

“Are there any spirits present?” asked Joann. Nothing.

“Does anybody wish to speak to us tonight?” Still nothing.

“We only want to talk to you.” She pleaded. Nothing.

“Oh this is stupid Joann.” I said and before I could take my hand off the planchette Joann slapped hers down on mine.

“Don’t!” she said sternly. “Maybe you should ask, it’s your house.”

“I am not going to start talking to a Ouija board Joann.” I said feeling really foolish.

“Just try. One time. Come on Ev, what’s it going to hurt?” she pleaded.

“I guess you’re right okay, one time. Ready?” I said, feeling a little nervous and totally sure it wouldn’t work. “Hey, if there’s someone or something out there that’s been helping me around the house, I just wanted to say thank you.”

The planchette started to move. I looked at Joann in disbelief. The planchette stopped on the letter Y paused and began to move to another letter.

“Joann, you’re doing this!” I said impatiently.

“I swear, I’m not.” Said Joann with a bit of nervousness in her voice.

The planchette stopped on the letter W, then didn’t move again.

“YW?” I asked to nobody in particular.

“Maybe it’s the ghost’s initials?” offered Joann.

“YW….” I said again.

“Wait a minute!” Joann’s voice was brimming with excitement. “YW! What was your question Ev? What did you say before the thing started moving?”

“I didn’t really ask a question. I simply said that I wanted to thank whoev-“I stopped and looked at Joann knowingly and at the same time we screamed “YOUR WELCOME!”

“What the hell!” I quickly took my hand off the planchette. “This is spooky Joann.”

“It wants to talk to you. We have to finish!” Joann insisted taking my hand and placing it back on the planchette .

“Alright, alright!” I said not convinced that it was a good idea.

“Ask its name.” Joann said excitedly.

“What is your name?” I said, still a little doubtful. The planchette started searching for a letter. It found six. G-E-O-R-G-E.

“George!” we both screamed.

“Ask him about the house!” Joann insisted.

“Okay!” I said impatiently.

“George, did you do some re-arranging in my house? The planchette went to the Y.

“He’s saying he did!” Joann could barely contain her excitement.

“I get that Jo, I’m not an idiot.” I was growing more impatient with her by the minute.

“Why George?” I asked. The planchette didn’t move. I was beginning to think that George wasn’t going to answer when I felt the planchette slowly start to move towards a letter. When it was done it spelled H-E-L-P.

“Help?” shouted Joann in a panic. “Maybe he’s trying to tell us he needs help!”

“Joann, settle down.” I was now completely annoyed with her. She was acting like a hyper active 4th grader on Ritalin. “Now, sshhh! Let me finish.”

“George, are you in trouble? Is there something I can do to help you?” I asked. The planchette moved to the N.

“He’s saying no.” Joann whispered. This time I gave her a dirty look and she did the silent “zip your mouth and throw away the key” gesture to me.

“Do I need Help?” I asked. The planchette slid to the Y again. “Well that’s very kind of you George, but you don’t have to help me.” The planchette began to move again until it spelled out the word ‘lonely’.

"Are you lonely George?" I asked softly.

The Panchette moved over the Y.

I could see Joann out the corner of my eye and shelooked like she was going to burst apart if I didn’t let her speak. “I know you want to say something so go ahead.” I said begrudgingly.

Joann wasted no time in blurting out “he’s lonely Ev, that’s just so sad. He just wants a friend.” I thought I saw a tear rolll down her cheek and was about to say “oh brother” when I felt my own eyes welling up. She was right.

“George, we can be friends. You are welcome to be in this home whenever you like, but you don’t need to do all that stuff for us to be friends.” The planchette began to move again. I read the message out loud and looked at Joann in utter disbelief. “Bad taste.” Joann started to laugh.

“George, are you saying I have bad taste?” I asked with a smile. The planchette slid to the Y at the bottom of the board then spell out “tacky.” Joann began laughing so hard she was snorting.

“Alright, alright, I admit I’m really not inclined that way.” I said half annoyed, half amused. Then asked, “is that what you are doing George? Helping me make my house more beautiful?” The planchette slid over the letter Y again.

“Well I guess that would be okay. I mean what you’ve done so far looks-“the planchette began to slide towards a letter again. When it was done it had spelled out “fabulous!”

Joann and I spoke with George for a few minutes longer and then said goodbye and closed the porthole like the instructions had told us to do.

“Lucky you!’ said Joann. “I think George might be gay! Your house is going to look amazing Ev!”

Some people are haunted by angry ghosts who want to scare them or even hurt them or the people they love. Some people are haunted by territorial ghosts who want to drive them out of their house. Some people are haunted by sorrowful ghosts who keep them up at night with their moaning, and then there’s my ghost. A lonely gay guy named George who wants to help me make my house beautiful.

The End
© Copyright 2015 Drew (chowlynn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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