The Soul of a House

          As the new year began, she could only hope that it would be better than the last one. Well, maybe not. Melinda stared at the window where a ton of wet snow slinked down the panes. She felt the snow sink inside her, chilling her. Even its white, blinding light spooked her like the enormous house she now lived in with its creaking woodboards and the stairways. Outside, the snow streaked down like lint in an alternating pattern of oblique and horizontal lines.

          Maybe Melinda was destined to experience a few more mini nervous break-downs this year, too. Starting with today, snow could possibly imprison her in this house and could be the cause of another hospital stay. Another cause to do her in could be the one who visited her in dreams, the one with the etheric, slithering ego, engorging with mortals' fabulous fears and frolicking fancifully to make himself known. Who could he be? Could he be her loneliness?

          The phone rang. Melinda reached for the receiver.

          "Hello!"

          "Hi, Mel." Jason sounded giddy. "The dead will roam the earth."

          "Oh, no, Jason...I am spooked enough as it is."

          Jason chuckled. "Oh, come on! I meant the Grateful Dead. Didn't you see today's news? They're going on a tour. While the news is hot, we could play a song or two like Ain't Superstitious, during the show. We may top the ratings."

          "I might not make it to the station today, Jason. Looks like I'm getting snowed in."

          "I'll send Mark to pick you up. Don't worry. His van has the works. As they say the show must go on."

          Melinda had nothing planned for the night's show. She thought she would do open-talk and let people call in and choose what they wanted to discuss. Even though it had been only three months since she started hosting the midnight show in WKGI, her team had covered almost every subject such as the UFO's, aliens and Roswell, the food products that came to life, ghost hunters, and so on.

          Melinda hated talk radio, blaming it for the negativity that took over the country, but work was work, and she had to make a living. On the other hand, because of the show, she wouldn't be home for most nights in this huge house alone, where a ghost rattled and prattled at the refrigerator door, intimidating the clocks, the ice maker, and Melinda too, and darted shadows around the room. Sometimes, he even blew off the electricity or a lamp of the chandelier, probably chanting, "Look at me. Poke at me. I am here."

          She was the one to blame, Melinda sighed, although only partly. She had gone and rented this giant of a house when no apartments were available on short notice. Maybe she had a nervous disposition, but what she kept hearing in her new house and the dreams she was seeing deepened her dismay.

***

          "Everything's running late." Mark watched the road with a whiff of fear as he drove. "Most places are closed. Not us, though. People will want their shows. Especially in this weather."

          Although it was unnerving to watch Mark maneuver his large vehicle through the snow, Melinda rejoiced she had a radio station to go to. Could Mark know something about her house?

          "Mark, you know, the house I am renting is too big, and I signed a year's lease, too..." She didn't know what else to say to bring up what was happening to her.

          "Yeah, it looks huge, but it is in the better side of the town, and on your street, crabapples blossom along the sides of the road in the early spring. It is real pretty."

          "But I think there's something spooky about this house. I keep hearing eerie noises all the time."

          "Must be the show getting to you. Always talking about those creepy things...No definite program for tonight, am I right? I think that's what Jason said."

          Melinda frowned. "We might let the callers carry the show."

          "Why not talk about the house? See what happens. Like they say, 'When life throws you a lemon, make a lemonade.'"

***

          "Tonight we will be discussing houses." Melinda cleared her throat, clutching the microphone tightly. "I would also like to receive calls from you about the houses you live in. Do you think houses have souls? When I moved into this beautiful city four months ago, I rented a house in the old Wintergarden section, and some odd noises and strange incidents have been brewing around me. What do you think about that?"

          "Only fools believe in such things." Her first caller was adamant. "A house is a house. Live in it and enjoy."

          The following callers played leapfrog with the so-called deeper truths, sightings, and such discoveries at every level of whatever is supernatural. One of them, however, offered Melinda a viable solution.

***

          The noise in Melinda's house was unbearable nowadays. In retrospect, she sometimes missed the time when she had been alone. The unreality of what was happening surprised her with the din coming from the music, dancing, and the voices of students giggling, talking, and running up and down the stairs.

          Yes, her fridge still made sounds, and the stairways still creaked at night, but her dreams were free of her monsters, and it was such a joy to be living with a whole bunch of young people. Rearrange beliefs and relationships, the houses could transform, too, as did hers, after she had sublet most of it to the local college to use as part of its housing system.

          Melinda smiled at her discovery. Her house had a lively soul, and this year was certainly better than the last one.





958 words