early morning visit

At 4:14 am I thought I had hit the night stand with my hand. I’ve done it before so I just moved away. At the same time I heard a female laugh, like a giggle. The T.V. was on but the sound was turned down to low to hear anything. Falling back to sleep I heard the female laugh like she was right next to me. My eyes opened just in time to see a figure in the mirror walking out the bedroom door beside me. I got up and as usual there wasn’t anything except a heavy smell of scented hand lotion, the real heavy thick smell like Jergens. Now that I’m up getting ready for work the odor is still here, even downstairs.



I need to keep track of things that happen. I’m use to forgetting them because I learned to never talk about it. I finally got into this century and purchased a smart phone, now I can at least leave voice notes to myself or get pictures, which usually turn up nothing.  Here are five topics to keep track of:

1. Numbers. I keep repeating 5795 over and over in my mind. I don’t know anyone’s phone number that ends with those four digits or why I need to know it. Nothing I can think of has any attachment to these numbers.

2. A Shape. I keep getting a picture of this shape in my mind. shapeUsually when I get a visual of something for no reason I’ll find later it’s attached to a person I have brief but intermittent contact with.

3. Sparrows. Sparrows are like cats, everywhere I’ve lived a sparrow will come up to me. They’ve come to my windows, my patio or on my porch, they’ve even came up to me while I’m on the porch. The birds just look at me and in no hurry, turn and casually sit before flying off. It’s like they’ve been keeping an eye on me all my life.

4. Animal Attacks. I get this overwhelming feeling I’m going to be attacked by a large animal. In the last few years these fears have led to a personal or public tragedy. There have been two public attacks reported on the national news and just lately a personal tragedy to an old friend. I will start posting these feelings when they happen and see what comes with them in the following days.newquarters

5. Quarters. After I wrote about Quarters, I’ve found three. Oddly, one was on the floor of my truck under my feet. I don’t carry cash or change. I use my bank card for everything. One stuck to the bottom of my shoe? It fell from under the dashboard? I don’t think so…

The Gift

   I know I’m odd and try to act as normal as possible. I keep a distance from people and I don’t let them get close to me. I will talk to you if it will get you to leave me alone. This is the strange behavior picked up by the curiosity of knowing I can see things others can’t. I try not to draw attention to myself in public. I don’t like attention and I especially hate crowds and anything loud. While I am out in public, sometimes I get the feeling someone knows about me. They’re watching and I can feel it. This use to be disturbing to until a girl in my neighborhood came up while I was sitting out.

   I was having a Black and Mild cigar on my patio and didn’t want to stink my house up. The girl was with her brother, they looked alike so I’m making it her brother. They stop at my walk. The little boy continued to play with his truck but the girl stood there with her hands shading her eyes from the sun and stared at me. I said hi to her and she kept staring. I asked if she was O.K. and she said, “I seen a ghost in our house”.  As fast as she told me that, I said “I see them all the time”. Without hesitation she replied, “Yeah, I know”. She turned to her brother and said “lets go home now, c’mon”.

    I’ll look around in crowds. Once in a while a Gifted one is there among the colors. We just look and acknowledge that we both know. There’s no words, very little if any.  We act the same, quiet with an anxious tranquility. That’s the best way to describe it. If you see one of us, keep watching. You might see something  you can’t explain.

The House I Grew Up In (Part 3)

January 1968:

   For Christmas one year I got a do-it-yourself AM Radio kit. I assembled it with my dad’s help and we ran an antenna out to the tree in the front yard. I was amazed by it. I played with the dials and tried to tune in stations. It was mostly static. What did come through, no matter where I went along the dial, was a low pitched voice. I couldn’t make out the words but he had a distinct hissy laugh, more of a chuckle. He would say a few lines of dialogue then laugh. It didn’t sound like English. There would be a few paragraphs of dialogue a pause then repeat the same thing over through all the static.

   One night, while we were asleep, the radio fell from the window. It was loud with all its loose plastic parts going everywhere on the hardwood floor. The sound woke everyone up. My dad wasn’t happy, it was late and they get up early for work. He asked me why I pulled the antenna inside. There in his hand was the entire length of string we used to reach the tree. I was afraid to answer. Looking around him, I could see the drum stick we used as an extra window lock for the bottom sash was still wedged in the aluminum track.

   Someone or something, deliberately knocked the radio off the window sill and somehow managed to pull 20’ of string out from under a locked down aluminum window without fraying it or undoing the knot that tied it to the tree. I never saw the radio again after that.

Music Box Dancer

As a teenager I would get into my mom’s purse and take cigarettes and change. I was a foosball addict and smoked. When she got sick, she asked me to quit smoking. I tried not to in the house. From then on I would ask for foosball money. She passed away in 1980 and took my heart with her. But I always remembered the fragrance of her purse. It was leather and she carried Doublemint Gum all the time. A leather and mint smell was unique. Before she got sick, she bought a 45 record, Frank Mills – Music Box Dancer. It was one I remember her playing the most. I went on with life, but never fully healed from my loss. I withdrew from friends. I started doing a lot by myself. No one’s going to leave me again, I thought.

A few years ago, maybe 2011, I was getting my usual yearly stock of clothes. Levi’s, black t-shirts, underwear and socks. I guess there was music always playing in there when i shopped, I just never paid attention to it. Suddenly, the locked away memory of Music Box Dancer’s piano opening came crashing in on me from the store speakers. My mind stopped and was taken over. The best times of my life returned, even if it was just for one song, it was good enough. The fragrance of minted leather filled the air. The entire time the song played I could see my mom dancing on the cloudy stage. Happy, smiling, the way she always was…