The Haunting of My House

He is just over three years old. I am tucking him in bed for the night when the family dog hops up and positions herself at the foot of the bed.

“Aw, isn’t that nice? You have a dog to protect you.”

His head whips around and he looks intently at my eyes, “Protect me from what?”

Why did I use that phrase? I stammer in reply, “Well, um-”

“What is there that she has to protect me from?” he persists.

Little kids are so smart. You really can’t fool them too much. It’s like they are born with an intuition that’s maybe meant to aid them in understanding our complicated world and they see right through us adults.

He couldn’t have known that I’d been raised with nothing comparable to the comforts and safety of his young home life, but what he did possess was a sensitivity that made him read into my words exactly what my subconscious was remembering at the given moment.

***

Fast forward to the present... The past couple of nights a television channel I fancy, TCM (Turner Classic Movies), has been featuring a mini-marathon of scary and frightful films in honor of upcoming Halloween.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asks my trustworthy husband? “You know how tender you are.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Why last night I watched ‘Psycho’ and ‘Signs.’ You didn’t hear a peep out of me. Don’t worry. I’m fine. And look at tonight’s line up. Honey, they’re shows we watched as mere children, ‘House on Haunted Hill,’ ’13 Ghosts’ and ‘Legend of the Hell House.’ ”

The reason for trusting husband’s concern? Not long after we married, I viewed “The Exorcist.” For a week afterward I woke him up whenever I had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. My trustworthy husband would dutifully accompany me on the short walk, wait for me to use the facility and walk me back to bed. Well, except for the one night where I “held it” until dawn because his back was to me and I was afraid that if I tapped his shoulder, instead of my trustworthy husband, some evil demon might turn toward me.

What is it about night that exaggerates my fear of ghosts and monsters?

Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time, I’m confident, fearless and “able to leap tall buildings in a single bound,” but occasionally all of my ability at a rational thought process abandons me.  And it is always at in the dark of night, in the house, and when I am alone (or when trustworthy husband is asleep.)

I hear a floorboard squeak. I look at the door handle in the murky lack of light. I could swear that I see it turn. Is it my astigmatism? No, I'm sure I just saw it turn…

Doubt and fear take root and grow as if I’d thrust them into the lush soil of a greenhouse and poured super-fertilizer all around. I fight for control of my thoughts and wait impatiently for the light of dawn.

So, no TCM tonight. Maybe a bit of melatonin, a comedic show or a funny, heartwarming short story, or such.

Boo! And Happy Halloween.