True Ghost Story: Jack-In-The-Box

I woke up this morning in a pool of sweat to a thunderstorm raging outside. It's days like these that take me back to the summer I was twelve (almost thirteen!) and the unexplained incidents that haunted my school break.

My aunt Jenny had her third baby early in the summer and two weeks later I went to stay with my aunt and uncle for the summer to help out with the older kids, seven-year-old Julie and five-year-old Mikey.

One hot day in July, Aunt Jenny told me she and Uncle Carl would be going out to dinner that evening. They would be back in less than two hours and wouldn't leave until baby Jamie was fed and down for the night. There were summer storms forecast for that evening, which she knew I hated, but she needed a break.

After the grown-ups had left, I was in the family room of the split level home with the two older kids. A thunderstorm raged outside. We were sitting together on the brown and orange plaid sofa watching Charlie's Angels on TV. Jamie was upstairs sound asleep in his crib, I had quickly checked on him before our TV program began.

The kids had had their baths and I was putting pink rollers in Julie's stick straight hair trying to give her a Farrah Fawcett hairdo. I had made a pan of popcorn and we all had tall tumblers of soda on ice. The storm made me nervous but we were enjoying the freedom of being on our own with out the grown-ups.

A loud bang interrupted our TV show. Julie screamed. Mikey dove under my arm. I told the kids not to worry and headed to investigate on shaking legs. The front door stood wide open and rain was blowing in, soaking the tile entry way. I pushed the door closed until I heard a click and grabbed towels from the bathroom to soak up the mess.

Before I headed back to the family room I checked in on Jamie. He was sound asleep on his tummy, his small fist curled by his face. He must have been about six weeks old by then, a sweet baby who rarely fussed. I smiled and gently stroked his soft, pink cheek, proud to have taken care of the dilemma on my own.

As soon as I settled in with Mikey and Julie another loud bang rang out. I had no doubt as to the cause this time and ran quickly to the front door. It once again stood wide open and the rain poured inside. I slammed the door, this time turning the deadbolt. I figured the latch wasn't holding against the strong storm winds. I once again dried the tile, checked on Jamie, and headed back to the family room.

I had just plopped down on the sofa when a third bang rang out. How could that be? I had locked the door; surely, the wind couldn't push open a dead bolt. I headed back to the front door with my knees again shaking. Sure enough, it was wide open. I once again shut and locked the door and for the third time knelt to soak up the rain from the entry way tiles.

I hung the wet towels in the bathroom and started to go up the stairs to check on Jamie. Half way there I heard tinkling music. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened. The mobile over Jamie's crib was playing. The tinkling notes sent shivers down my spine. Jamie was a little baby! He couldn't wind up the mobile. I turned and fled down the stairs. No way I was going up there.

I returned to the family room and nothing else happened that night. Eventually, I checked on Jamie, feeling terrible for abandoning him before. The older kids were pretty worked up by this time but Jenny and Carl were home early as they had promised. I told them about the door blowing open but not about the music mobile.

Strange things began to happen around the house. The wind-up baby swing would start swinging for no reason. The front door would blow open. When Jamie began gurgling and cooing at people he also began gurgling and smiling when no one was close, as if someone were there tickling his chin and talking to him. Was he reacting to a ghost we couldn't see? I returned home at the end of the summer.

One time, Julie went missing in the middle of the night. Jenny was up going to the bathroom and checked on the kids before returning to bed. Julie was gone. They searched the house twice becoming more scared with each passing minute. Finally, they found her curled up, halfway down the basement stairs, sound asleep. There was a Jack-in-the-box popped up on either side of her, the garish clowns grinning into the dark basement. Julie was terrified of Jack-in-the-boxes. They were kept shoved clear to the back of the toy cupboard. She became hysterical if someone tried to play with one in her presence. The next morning she didn't remember leaving her bed or any of the nighttime activities.

Eventually, Jenny went to the court house to research their land. Carl had built their house himself on the empty lot. Jenny found that there had, indeed, been a house there before. And not only that but the road that ran in front of the house had been moved. It had run behind the property at one time. This explained the big slabs of concrete that were piled on the other side of the hay field behind the house. It seems a three-year-old boy had been run over on that old road. Run over by a horse or a car, I don't know, but a child lost his life there at one time.

The summer Jamie turned three the garage door began to mysteriously open. By the time school started that fall, all became quiet and no more ghostly occurrences haunted the family. I can't explain these incidents, but I can bear witness, I was there in the beginning.