Chapter 23
The community was apprised of recent developments by the abbot. Their prayerful support had helped him through everything and he thanked them. Action and contemplation work hand in hand. In this situation, they were the contemplation, he was the action, but one is always within the other. Francis had one more task to complete--assessing the situation of the so-called haunted house. This time, if there were any dead bodies or other newsworthy items found, it would be because the Bishop asked him to go there and not in any way the abbot’s own doing. Ghosts were not Francis’ favorite topic, but he believed that he had come in contact with a few during the span of his fifty-some years.
I think the Bishop wants me to go there as a clinical psychologist, just to diagnose that everyone connected with this situation is crazy. That would be painting with a rather broad brush, and certainly an improper way to diagnose anyone or anything.
It was Saturday morning and the members of the mystery team, plus Brother Matthew, had plenty of other things to do with their time, but no one could resist a trip to a haunted house. The abbot, for reasons he had not shared, wanted his novice with the team today.
Armed with prayerful hearts and a bottle of holy water, Francis, Dave, Chantal, Hester, and Matthew headed toward Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. They entered the home that they had been directed to by the Bishop’s office, a duplex, or as the locals would call it, “a double.” December wind slammed the door behind them and everyone jumped in unison. Francis was convinced that if they were to make contact with any spirits which might be residing there, they would need to calm themselves down and open up their minds and psyches. In order to achieve this, the novice group of ghost busters sat in the living room and prayed. They asked the spirit of God to guide them and asked God for protection from evil. Francis then suggested that the group use the mantra Om shanti, shanti, shanti. This is an ancient Sanskrit phrase for praying to the God of peace.
The group decided to stay together as they moved through the house, inspecting it room by room. They crept from the living room into the dining room, and were greeted there by a mirror falling off the wall and crashing on the floor into a million little glittering shards. Upon recovering from that, the dining room door slammed closed by itself.
“We can do this, gang,” Francis said. He wasn’t sure if he was speaking for the benefit of the group or to bolster his own courage. Where is the Wizard of Oz when you needed him?
The kitchen was directly behind the dining room and the spirit stalkers crowded into it. Wind howled all around the building. “Everything seems fine in here,” Chantal whispered but not sounding very convincing. By way of negating her comment, the oven door flew open and banged her behind both of her knees, knocking her to the creaky old floor. Her three colleagues picked up the feisty forensic psychologist and were assured in response that she was in no way harmed, although she was more than a little shaken.
It would be nice if one of us knew what he or she was doing thought Hester. She had great respect for the people she was with but this was not an everyday occurrence for any of them. She suggested that they look around upstairs to get the investigation over with and then get out. Everyone was in agreement.
The steps creaked loudly as the team members made their way to the upper level. Three bedrooms and a bath needed to be inspected. They entered the front bedroom, the largest room of the three. Once again, everything seemed fine at first. They were about to move to the next room when a large sheet of plaster, like a jagged three foot in diameter snowflake, fell from the ceiling immediately in front of David Gold, and landed at his feet. He jumped back, change and keys jingling in his pockets. Another chunk hit Hester in the head and she responded with a loud: “Hey, watch it.”
They didn’t need to discuss it; they just moved to the middle bedroom.
Nothing unusual occurred while they were in the middle bedroom, but windows all around them rattled and doors from other parts of the house banged open and shut. The courageous parapsychologists moved into the little bathroom. Two of the claw feet on the old bathtub had broken off and the tub was tilted toward its front end. The water dripping from the faucet in the sink sounded deafening as the four team members plus one held their breath, ready to run.
They reached the back room. The faded and peeling floral wallpaper hinted of happier days in the dwelling. Detective Gold absentmindedly opened the door to the shallow old-fashioned closet in the side wall. He was about to close it when he noticed that the back panel of the closet was vibrating with the wind. Upon closer inspection, the detective saw that there were hinges on the back panel and that it was a door which probably went through to the house adjacent to this one, the other “double.”
Francis was ready to move on. “Let’s go, gang. I think we’ve done enough for now.” The group creaked down the stairs again and everyone was ready to leave when Brother Matthew reminded them that they had not checked out the basement. David Gold was about to make the same observation. Determined to get this over with, the researchers turned the light on in the basement and went down. It was an old dirt floor upon which their feet landed. The air was dank and musty and the basement echoed with booms and cracks. They all ran upstairs.
The others thought Brother Matthew had seen one too many sci-fi movies when he asked the group to sit for a few moments in the living room, the place where they had begun their investigation. Brother Matthew said he felt the presence of a benevolent spirit and wanted to see if he could receive a message. The others reluctantly agreed and everyone sat down and began praying quietly, mostly to get the visit over with.
Within moments a feeling of peace pervaded all of them and the entire room as well. Matthew listened with his heart, rather than with his ears. A faint smile appeared on his face. The others looked at him expectantly. After a long period of blissful silence, the novice told them that he heard nothing, but that he had a strong sense of Christi’s presence with them. She seemed to be communicating that she wanted him to know that she was fine and that she held no ill will toward Matthew because he broke their engagement.
Francis told the group that he had many times heard such visitation stories from people who had recently lost loved ones. Francis had, in fact, experienced this himself on occasion. He believed that Christi chose the haunted house to communicate with Matthew because the group support was there for her visit then, and because all of his friends were open to the Spirit in a very special way at that time.