It’s still October…. Time for a paranormal thrill. 😃 I hope you enjoy!
“There’s a man in my window,” Danny informed me, quite seriously, his huge brown eyes magnified by a child-size pair of glasses. He was like a wise old owl, the serious look on his face only adding to the effect.
“What’s he doing there?” I asked, curious about what he would say. I had married his father right before Danny turned four and then we moved into this hundred-year-old house only two months later. Poor kid must be shell-shocked.
“Watching us. He’s mad.” My stepson turned back the boxes I promised to have unpacked by the end of the week. Why did I do that to myself? I made a career out of making ironclad agreements, and I could always deliver. But this?
I must be insane. “What’s he mad about?” I continued to probe as we sorted his toy cars and plastic soldiers into the bright blue bins. His dad said Danny was mature for his age and could keep his room clean as long as we showed him where his stuff was supposed to go.
“He didn’t say. I think he’s stuck there.” He held a car in each hand, pausing to make sure I was listening and not making fun of him. Although I wouldn’t dream of it, there were so many other people who did that it was a habit of his to check. It broke my heart.
“So he’s in the glass? Or sitting on the ledge?” I stopped scooping up little green men and women so I could turn to him and give him my full attention.
He scoffed, tiny nose scrunching as he giggled. “He’s on the other side. He can’t sit on the ledge, the window’s closed. See?” Danny put his hand on my cheek and turned my face to ensure I looked at the only set of windows in his new bedroom. Sure enough, the solid wood frames were latched tight.
We were on the third floor. There wasn’t anyone outside looking in. But I could play along. “Oh, that’s true. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Can we have cocoa when we’re done? Daddy always lets me have some when it’s cold outside.”
The strange conversation must be over. And why not? Hot chocolate was way more interesting than an imaginary figure. I filed the information away for later, though. Maybe Danny was using this mysterious figure to express his feelings about me marrying his father, or moving halfway across the country to an ancient house in upstate New York. He could be angry or grieving and unsure how to tell me.
“What a wonderful idea! Do you drink it with marshmallows or whipped cream?” I asked. Since the cars were all safely stowed away, I lifted the box and dumped the remaining plastic soldiers into their bin. There. One box done. Time for a break.
“Can I have both?” he asked.
“Of course you can. Come on, let’s see if we can find the box with the mugs. The kitchen is almost done. I think we have a good chance for success.”
“Okay!” Danny straightened and then hopped over to the door. He was so excited, so sweet. I was positive the decision I had made to sell my company and move so far away with my new husband would work out. At first I was worried, but Danny was so adorable and earnest. We could make it work. The chirping sound he made every time his feet landed on the floor made me giggle.
I stood, turning to go. A flicker of movement from just beyond the edge of my eyesight caused me to look back. There wasn’t anyone there.
Except the man in the window.