I like to fool myself by saying I'm brilliant. Do have a high I.Q., but sometimes this bulb shines dimly.
Back when I was in first grade my parents tried to purchase a house which was far too expensive for them to keep. We only lasted a two or three months and then we found ourselves living like Ma and Pa Kettle in a ramshackle house. I always thought my mother looked a bit like Marjorie Main, but Daddy bore no resemblance to Percy Kilbride. Well, maybe in attitude sometimes.
Well, the place we purchased was a hobby farm, complete with animals.
The house didn't have enough bedrooms for all of us to have our own room, so the big room in the basement was curtained off (with bedsheets instead of curtains) to make three rooms. Lynahr and Judayl got the far back area. Gayanne and Helvie got the middle area. I got the front area. The one with the window.
This was a full basement, so the basement window was one of those small things up by the ceiling. No egress or anything safe like that. Just the small window up by the ceiling.
We were allowed to stay up later than usual because it was a special day, but soon I found myself tucked in my bed and trying to sleep. That was when I heard the noise. And looking up, I saw the faces. There there at least three, but as many as five or six. Ghosts. They were peering down at me in my bed.
Quick as a flash I was out of there. (All of this predates The Old House, in which far more spooky things occurred.) Mother and Mickey came down to investigate, but the window was dark. Of course they didn't believe me. I crawled back into bed, watchful of the window.
Sure enough, it wasn't long and the faces returned. Again I raced away, and this time the entire family came to investigate. But this time the faces hadn't left. Everyone saw them. And everyone but me laughed. They were faces, all right. Goat faces. The hobby farm had come with Sanaan goats, which are white. For years afterward I had to endure the ridicule of being afraid of a handful of goats. Thought they were ghosts, you know.
3 comments:
That sounds really scary.
I hated having to share a room with my sister. We tried to think up ways to divide it but it never happened. That's why I got so into books: you can be with people but in your own little space when you're reading.
Maybe the goats were your guardian angels. I hear some people have them. That would explain why the "real" ghosts didn't bother you until you moved.
Vivid imagination sometimes works against me.
I don't think the goats did such a good job of guarding me. There was a big ram sheep which stood nearly as tall as me that was always knocking me down.
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