Our Ghost, Mr. Clean-Freak by: Bonnie Bernard
Our Ghost, Mr. Clean-Freak
Bonnie Bernard
Mr. Moody lives in the basement/garage
of our seventy year old home. Thanks to the ninety year old woman in
the house two doors down, we know our ghost’s name, we know he
lived here for fifty five years, and we know he loved to tinker in
the basement/garage (think “Batcave”…that’s what it looks
like). Mr. Moody kept a pristine workshop down there, with homemade
cabinets, handcrafted drawers, sprawling shelves with built-in tins
for everything from 2” grabber screws to 16 penny nails. All marked
and kept in tidy order…until he died and then my husband’s
tinkering gadgets moved in.
Mr. Moody and I get along just fine.
Not so much Mr. Moody and my husband, Doug. So I’ll let him tell
you the story. I’ll just write down what he says. It’s
appropriate, since this will be printed on October 4, his birthday.
Doug…
I was in the Batcave tinkering on my
dirt bike when my gut grumbled for lunch. So up to the kitchen I went
to build a ham and Swiss sandwich. Just as I squeezed on the mustard,
a loud crash came from the basement. Glancing toward the living room,
I saw both of our fat cats and our lazy dog piled on the sofa,
everybody snoring. And Bonnie wasn’t home, so the crash wasn’t
her knocking around in the laundry area. Stepping away from my
sandwich, I headed to the basement doorway and peered down.
“Is that you, Mr. Moody?” I
hollered.
Another crash was my answer.
I grabbed my sandwich and tromped
downstairs. Halfway to the bottom, something reached between the
stair-treads and tugged on my pant leg. Startled, I dropped the ham
sandwich and it busted wide open, landing mayo side down. Right in
the cat litter box. Great.
“Damn it, Mr. Moody.”
No reply.
Scanning the basement, I noticed my
drill on the floor. Not where I left it. Then I almost tripped on my
reciprocating saw at the base of the stairs (I didn’t leave that
there either). I leaned down to pick it up just as something zinged
past my head and clunked against the water heater. Well, finally -
there’s my hammer. I’d been wondering all morning where it
had disappeared to.
“Moody, dude,” I grumbled. “I’m
sorry I left stuff lying around everywhere, but I needed a lunch
break. And now, I’ve gotta go back upstairs and make another
sandwich. Thanks to you.” Meanwhile, Mr. Moody would continue to
take out his anger on my stuff. That’s just how it goes. I don’t
mind living with a ghost and Bonnie insists not everybody gets so
lucky to have one, but she and Moody don’t have power struggles.
I pointed up to the necklaces my wife
and her best friend had strategically strung over the water pipe and
around the heating ductwork.
“Those chains
are there just to entertain your obsessive-compulsive ass and they
worked just fine until today. What the hell is your problem all of a
sudden?” Of course, when I looked up, I answered my own question.
Bonnie and Kristy had hung the half dozen shiny beaded necklaces up
there four years ago, back when Mr. Moody kept throwing stuff around
and pushing the garage button to open the door in the middle of the
night. My wife and Kristy hung the chains to keep Mr. Moody occupied
and it had worked like a charm, at least until that day. See, the
chains had been hanging there for so long that they’d gotten
grime-covered and grown cobwebs. That’s our problem, Mr. Moody and
me. He’s an anal retentive carpenter and I’m a member of the dust
dynasty.
Pulling the chains down, I wiped them
across my shirt until they were bright and shiny again. Then I looped
them back over the pipes and ducts. After that, I reached down to
pick up my drill.
“I will clean this place up good
tomorrow,” I promised. “Okay?”
A swift boot against my ass was the
answer. As I fell forward, I could’ve sworn I heard a snicker.
The End
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First Happy Birthday to your husband. Second thank you so much for being a part of the blog event. Wow, your ghost Mr. Moody sounds funny though I am sure not to your husband lol. I have never encountered a ghost and if I had neat freak ghost I am sure he would torture me until I cleaned.
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday to Doug, I loved the story he told of your ghost "Mr. Moody" have any of your stories been based upon your interactions with your ghost Bonnie? Thanks for being part of the giveaway Bonnie.
ReplyDeleteRobbibird3 at aol dot com
Hahahaha!!! Bonnie, seems like you have a rival in writing in Doug, I love his story! Maybe you can write together?! Happy Birthday to Doug and sorry for your loss of Sponge today :-(
ReplyDelete