A Summer of Fear: A True Haunting in New England (8 page)

When I reached the front office, however, and looked through the front windows, the porch was bare. Still, I unlocked the door and stepped out into the night air. Tugging my robe closer around me I strained my eyes into the night. “Hello! Is anyone there?” I couldn’t see much beyond the edge of the porch, thanks to the rain, but I didn’t see any movement.

As I stepped back into the house and closed the door, the noise sounded again–this time from the back of the house. Someone was knocking on the back door.

It was almost a straight line from one door to the next so I ran as quickly as I could but when I was within mere feet of the emergency exit, the knocking stopped. Again, a look outside showed me an empty porch.

Now I was alarmed.

I stood there between the two doors in the middle of the house and tried to think of what to do next when the knocking came again at the front. It was so loud and heavy that the very walls around me shook and I could all but feel the hardwood under my feet rattle. A framed document fell off the wall and clattered to the floor, the glass shattering and sending shards everywhere. There wasn’t an intern there who was capable of making such an impact with their fists alone. I didn’t know
anyone
who could. Both doors had glass panes in them and my position allowed me to see both of them at once. I couldn’t see anyone on either side of them. Sinking down to my bottom, I buried my head in my hands and started to cry. I didn’t care how senseless I was or might have appeared or what I should have been doing–all I could think was that someone or something was trying to get inside and kill me. I wanted my mommy.

After giving into the fear for several minutes I got up and tried the phone. It was dead. I couldn’t call out anyway, but thought I might have at least been able to dial 911. I’d heard you could do that. I tried my cell, too, but didn’t have a signal. Something had knocked the satellite internet out so I couldn’t even get online. I wanted to make a run for the intern’s cabin, but going outside felt even more terrifying. Instead, I went back up to my room, sobbing, and huddled in the corner of my bed. I took two more Tylenol PMs and eventually fell asleep.

I
didn’t wake up until almost 2:00 pm on Saturday. My head and stomach ached and I felt awful. There were no signs that anyone had visited me the night before. Both porches looked fine; there weren’t any muddy footprints or disturbances at the house. I tried the phones again but they didn’t work. I then drove down to the interns’ cabin but nobody was home. All the vehicles were gone.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between napping and reading. The storm had thrown the computers offline so I couldn’t even get on the internet and email Mom or David. I didn’t feel much like it anyway. I was just too exhausted.

Saturday night was uneventful. For the first time in weeks I didn’t hear a single noise and slept as good as I could have.

On Sunday morning, however, I was awakened by another pounding on the door.
Oh my God, not again
, I moaned to myself. When I looked outside my window, however, I saw a police cruiser in the parking lot.

“What the hell?”

Throwing my robe on, I raced down the stairs and opened the front door. An officer was standing on the front porch, looking both stern and relieved at the same time. He was young, probably in his early thirties, and had the serious facial expression most officers have when they’re confronting someone but aren’t real sure as to how to proceed.

“Are you Miss Patrick?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” I answered. I couldn’t have broken the law. I hadn’t been anywhere or done anything.

“I received a phone call from your mother this morning. She said the last she’d heard from you was Friday night. You were driving in a storm and got cut off. She hadn’t heard from you the rest of the weekend. She was worried,” he explained. He didn’t say this accusingly, but it was obvious he was waiting for an explanation from me.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I called her from the gas station. I don’t have a signal here and I can’t call her from the phones here. The computer’s down, too. I haven’t felt well so I haven’t been out all weekend.”

“Well, it was right of her to worry. To be perfectly honest, I don’t see why a young woman should be staying out here all by herself without access to communication,” he said, furrowing his brows. “I wouldn’t want my wife or daughter to do it.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m not real thrilled about it either.” I briefly filled him in on what happened the night before.

“Most likely someone playing a prank,” he said. “Maybe the other staff members? But you need a phone here. Or a radio.”

“Yeah, I know,” I agreed.

I watched him drive away and then got dressed and drove into town.

J
anet and the rest of the staff were not amused by the visit from the police which, of course, they heard about. Once I explained to them what had happened I felt a little foolish as well. At the time, it felt perfectly rational that my mother would call the only person she could think of to check on me and, given the circumstances, I could understand why she was worried. In the clear light of day with the farm house full of people and the phones and internet back online, however, it was difficult to remember just how isolating and unnerving the weekend had been. Only Janet was a parent herself; the rest of the women were either single or childless.

I also told them about the knocking and how I’d gone back and forth from one door to the other. While they’d all appeared disconcerted, each woman had a different explanation for what I’d probably heard. They all brushed it off. As it so happened, the interns had been off the grounds that night. They’d stayed in town with friends who had a house there. That news wasn’t exactly settling.

“I have a job for you today,” Tina approached me around noon.

I looked up from the computer where I’d been working on my budget. “What’s up?”

“We have three staff members coming in by bus today and I need someone to go pick them up from the station. It’s about an hour away and we’ve got a staff meeting. Would you like to go?” Since she was already handing me the keys to the company van it wasn’t something I could exactly turn down. Besides, I loved the idea of getting out of the house.

“Sure!”

After printing off the directions I grabbed my purse and hit the road. I was picking up three international staff members: a guy from Scotland and two girls from the Czech Republic. All three were waiting for me when I reached the bus station.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I apologized when I got out of the van. “The traffic was heavier than I’d hoped.”

“Not a very nice welcome or a good start to the summer,” the Scottish guy grumbled as he loaded his bag into the back. The two girls rolled their eyes in unison and then stuck out their hands to me.

“I’m Merricka,” the tall, thin blond with bright red lipstick and glittery earrings announced, “and this is Sarah. And we’re starved. Can we get something to eat on the way? Please?”

The other girl was shorter, a brunette, and had a sunny smile. She wore a mini skirt and a Patsy Cline T-shirt. I liked both of them immediately.

“I’m hungry, too. Let’s do it!” I said cheerfully. New possible friends. It wasn’t going to be such a bad day after all.

The girls chattered about their plane ride, stay in Boston the night before, and bus to New Hampshire while the guy (John Paul) sulked and stared out the window with his arms crossed. Occasionally he’d sit up and take a picture and mumble something about a sight was “so American” before going back to his pose. The other two ignored him.

Our choices were limited to fast food so I pulled into a McDonalds since it was cheap and the one thing everyone knew. As we clamored out of the van Merricka clapped her hands and said, “I could eat three cheeseburgers I SWEAR!” Sarah nodded in agreement.

John Paul snorted. “No wonder everyone in America is so fat. With shit like this everywhere you just can’t help it.”

“How long have you been here?” I asked him, honestly curious.

“I got in yesterday,” he shrugged.

I thought he was awfully jaded for someone who’d just arrived.

We ate inside and the girls chattered while John Paul nibbled on an order of fries. I was glad to have something different to eat myself. There weren’t any fast food places anywhere near the resort so it was actually somewhat of a treat for me.

“When we get unpacked, can we come visit you tonight?” Sarah asked me as we got back in the van. “We need to start planning our summer. You’ve got a car and there are so many things we can do!”

“Like what?” I asked, because I was starting to feel some excitement. I liked the girls; they were fun.

“Um, like shopping!” Merikka sang. “And eating!”

“And beer!” Sarah laughed. “We love to drink!”

John Paul snorted. He was getting on my last nerves.

Before we got back on the road I stopped at a Wal-Mart and let the girls go in to buy some toiletries since it was their last chance. I went in with them to show them around but John Paul waited. “I wouldn’t touch that sweat shop stuff,” he scoffed. “Fucking American shit. No wonder everyone hates you.”

“You’ve got a real attitude,” I barked as I slammed the door. “Why did you come if you don’t like anything?”

The girls had a good time in the store, though, and Sarah even bought herself a new bikini.

B
ack at the grounds I introduced the new staff members to the office staff and the director got them settled into their quarters. Janet asked me how the drive had gone and I told her about John Paul’s attitude and what I’d said to him. “I’m sorry, Janet, but he was rude and obnoxious and I just won’t put up with that,” I said.

“That’s very strange,” she mused. “He sounded so fun on the phone and had a great accent.”

“I know,” I agreed. “And I usually love Scotsmen.”

I also told her about the Czech girls, though, and how they were going to hang out in my room that night. “Well, that’s nice that you’re meeting the kitchen staff but I hope you’ll make friends with the other staff as well,” she said strangely.

The comment left a bad taste in my mouth as I walked back to my desk and prepared to finish out the afternoon. What did it matter which part of the facility they worked in? I liked them.

E
vening rolled around and for the first time in weeks I wasn’t feeling nervous about the setting sun. Just knowing there were more people around made me feel a little more secure. Despite the fact that there was obviously something going on in my own building, at least I was no longer completely alone. The thought made me feel braver and stronger. I sat down at my desk after making myself a sandwich for supper and wrote David a letter.

Dear David,

I made friends today. They’re from Czech and I think we’re going to get along just fine. The night sounds haven’t started yet but I am not as nervous about them as I usually am. The new girls said they were going to come visit me tonight and I’m looking forward to it. I lugged the vacuum cleaner upstairs and cleaned my room a little. It’s the most active I’ve been in weeks. For the first time in what feels like forever I’m starting to feel excited about being here. I haven’t had girlfriends in a long time, at least not any my own age, and maybe this summer won’t be as bad as I thought it was going to be. I don’t want to put too much hope into this, but I really want our friendship to work out. It would be nice to have people to hang out with and I think we bonded.

Love,

Rebecca

Merricka and Sarah did come up as planned and the three of us sat on my bed, ate cookies, and listened to music for hours. I told them about my travels to Czech and showed them pictures of my mom and house back home. Sarah talked briefly of her pen pal, a guy from Alabama, and I told them about David and our letters and calls to one another. We giggled and laughed and for once there was nothing foreboding or sinister about the dark, shady attic room or shadowy mountaintop and surrounding forest. Instead, it almost felt cozy.

They’d been in the room for about two hours when the noises began.

“Who’s that?” Sarah asked, curious, when the light footsteps approached the bedroom door.

I waited before answering, just to see what would happen. I didn’t have to pause for long because seconds later the knob began turning and the door gently opened. Merricka gasped and jumped to her feet when nobody entered.

“What the–“Sarah thundered as she marched to the door and looked outside. “There’s nobody here!”

“I know,” I nodded. “It happens every night.”

“We
all
heard that, right?” Sarah asked. “I’m not crazy going?”

“No,” I agreed. “You’re not crazy going. It sounds like someone walking.”

The words were no sooner out of my mouth than a loud thump came from the room across the hall. Merricka shrieked and threw my pillow over her head and Sarah’s face went pale. “For fuck!” she cried and slammed the door. “What
is
it?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I think it’s haunted.”

“Yeah, a ghost, but who?” she asked. She was visibly trembling as she walked back over to the bed and sat down. “Did you see it?”

“No, I’ve never seen anything. Just the sounds. Well, a shadow once.”

“Yeah, well,” she began rummaging around in her purse for a cigarette and lit it. I refrained from pointing out the no smoking policy in the building. “I saw it. Not what but a shadow. Big and dark. Not good, my friend. This is not good.”

The three of us sat there together without speaking, the silence only broken up by the muffled sounds outside. “It likes music,” I finally volunteered. “A certain song.”

I put the Nanci Griffith song on and the girls were duly impressed when the noises stopped. “I think it’s a man. A young man. And he’s sad. That’s why the music soothes him. It’s like a woman singing to him, like a lullaby,” I tried to explain. “I don’t know if it makes any sense but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this.”

“Do you know about bad things happening here? Happening in this house?” Merricka asked. She was on her second smoke.

“No. I asked Janet about the ghosts and she said nobody else had ever heard or seen anything. The interns said that’s not true. I did ask her if anything bad had happened here and she said no.”

“It’s fucked up, it’s shit,” Sarah whispered. “How do you go to bed? I can’t sleep. Maybe not tonight.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I muttered.

The mood became more subdued but at least I felt vindicated somewhat. I wasn’t the only one hearing the sounds. I wasn’t going crazy.