So, I was musing on a good Halloween story when it dawned on me that I experienced one last year in Maine. We were there with Marcy and Brock. Staying in a home built before the Civil War, the chilling ambiance was ideal. This was our third of four Maine Holidays in a row. We were pumped, as the kids say. Arriving in the evening after dinner at Taste of Maine, MJ and I were the first to enter the ancient dwelling. To get to the Civil War House we drove down a winding road that was easy to miss. Hello…Hello, I distinctly heard. Then I heard MJ responding Hello…Hello. The first Hello did not respond. Then I called out Hello…Hello…Hello and MJ answered Hi. Where was the Property Manager I thought…that must be who was calling out to us…probably here to greet us as the new guests.

Silence.

The Civil War House had a strange basement. If you were not too tall, a trapdoor led to it. I was too tall.

There was no air conditioner. The doors did not lock properly. We opened all of the windows. As the eagle cried out from its nest on the river. We spoke of ghosts and ‘Hello.’

There were pictures throughout the Civil War House. You could see the kids grow from children and be photographed with their children. The Matriarch and Patriarch grew older. I counted 40 coffee cups with family names inscribed on them. The paintings aligning the walls looked on.

The disembodied Hello could not be found. It was with us during our stay. Just around the corner or perhaps in the basement…