‘Friday night we will visit the Magic House,’ Chet said. ‘It sets at the outskirts of town next to the cemetery,’ Chet continued. ‘The look of it is plain but mystery resides within,’ Chet noted with a sly grin. ‘The carvings on the walls the floors and the ceilings are more than can be explained,’ Chet shivered. ‘There is a carved glass bowl on the porch with rosaries in it for each person to take before entering,’ Chet informed. ‘Buddy and Tom visited the House by the Cemetery last Friday and have not been heard from for the past few days,’ Chet said softly. ‘I passed the house one time and it was Victorian the next time it was Ranch Style then A Frame,’ Chet said with saucer eyes. ‘It is a shape shifting house,’ Chet laughed.

‘Bill and I visited the House in the 40s and found it both delightful and a bit spooky,’ Neva J said. ‘We were greeted by a British Butler named Jack he invited us in and we sat on a Victorian sofa under candle light,’ Neva J continued. ‘There was whispering in the room but I could not quite hear what the voices were saying,’ Neva J mused. ‘A tall lovely woman invited us to take a tour with her through out the abode,’ Neva J grinned. ‘Each room appeared small until after we entered when it grew in size with the door to it seeming a mile away although we had just entered,’ Neva J explained. ‘The rooms were color themed we stopped in the red room where we sat on beautiful red velvet chairs and drank hot chocolate,’ Neva J remembered. ‘I noticed as I talked with Bill that he seemed smaller and yet very animated he was sinking into the red velvet with joy,’ Neva J laughed. ‘I quickly got up but Bill was gone so I left or tried to at least,’ Neva J said fearfully. ‘There was no longer a door the woman said to follow her and we began to walk down through the floor on unseen steps,’ Neva J continued. ‘Suddenly I was outside again and Bill was still sunk in the red velvet chair as far as I know,’ Neva J said with a shrug.

‘I wonder if this was a good idea it is Halloween Season but I don’t want to get lost in velvet,’ Jane said. ‘The lights are on cookies on the table hot cider to drink 1940’s music playing on the Victrola,’ Jane noticed. ‘Look there is someone coming he looks like Bill,’ Jane said. ‘I wonder if he has been here since he was lost in the red velvet in the 40s,’ Jane mused. ‘He seems bright eyed and bushy tailed,’ Jane observed.

‘Neva J your hair has turned white over night,’ Bill said. ‘Each time I looked for you for the door the Whispers told me not yet it is not time,’ Bill continued. ‘The Whispers admonished me to be patient and have another Dirty Martini wait as time has no meaning,’ Bill said. ‘Has it been a few days or perhaps a week,’ Bill asked? It seems I just got here and liked it so well I could not or did not leave,’ Bill noted. ‘The faces carved in the walls the floor the ceiling are the Whisperer’s, Bill winked with the knowledge. ‘The Whisperers like me we talk for hours about the world and the problems in it,’ Bill reflected. ‘They do not want me to tell you guys the secret but I must this is our new home take a seat in the red velvet chairs and relax we have nothing but time,’ Bill said with a macabre laugh.