Living with Bertha, the Ghost

Don't you just hate it when a ghost won't leave you alone? I know I do. There's this old woman who shows up every once in a while and starts meddling in my business. She puts things where they don't belong, and then it takes me hours to find them. I thought at first it was just memory lapses on my part until one day I kept searching for my purse, and I heard her laughing at me.

"Why do you keep hanging around here?" I asked her one day.

"I'm here to help you. No one ever helped me and look where I wound up." Well, most of the time her "help" comes at the most inconvenient times such as when I have friends over. More than once I've had to explain about Bertha.

Once I realized that Bertha was going to keep hanging around my house, I went to the genealogical section of the library and discovered that she had once lived nearby in a farm house about a hundred years before. Unfortunately, one extremely cold night, she had built the fire too high in the fireplace, and she awoke in the middle of the night to her house going up in flames. Although Bertha reacted in time to get out of the house safely, she was running so fast to get away that she didn't see the cistern in time and fell in, breaking her back. Even though the neighbors rapidly responded to her burning inferno, there was so much commotion that Bertha's cries for help went unheard. As old wooden houses did that long ago, the house was soon a pile of ashes, and the neighbors thought the old woman was part of the pile. They all shook their heads sadly and went home while poor Bertha just lay in the cistern until she died.

Although I felt sorry for Bertha, I never could quite figure out why she kept hanging around my house. When I first saw her, she was dancing in my living room. I was on my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, and when I turned the corner, there she was square dancing right in the center of the room. I let out a little yelp because normally I don't see dancing strangers in the living room, but she just gave me a little smile with a kick step and disappeared. Like any normal person, I really didn't like the idea that I may be haunted, so I chose to believe I was hallucinating. Unfortunately, Bertha kept showing up again and again. I finally had to admit that Bertha must have moved in lock, stock and barrel.

Actually, living with Bertha isn't that much of a drag, except for that hiding things. I've gotten so use to her that I often catch myself talking to her in front of people, which doesn't do a lot to discourage those rumors that I'm on the edge anyway. Usually, it's when I'm desperately looking for something and can't find it.

As a roommate, though, Bertha does have a few good points going for her because she doesn't eat my food, I never have to pick up after her, and there's never a ring around the bathtub. Too, I don't seem to have many infestations of insects and rodents, and come to think of it, the dogs seem to avoid my yard much more than they once did.

Yeah, it would seem Bertha's here to stay, so I guess I'll just let her stick around as long as she wishes, not that I'd know how to get rid of her anyway. Like any roommate, we're trying to come to an understanding about our living arrangement. So far, it's working pretty well. She's stopped square dancing at night, but I'll admit I'm having trouble breaking her fondness for hiding my things. Now where did she put my glasses?