And now for something different, 1.

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And now for something different, 1.

Post by SerinitysChild »

A ghost in the mountains.

Waving her fist under the old man’s nose, his wife shakes a towel at him saying, “There’s either a ghost in this house or, you’ve suddenly become the messiest person in the world.” Throwing the towel at the washing machine, the old man’s wife stomps off to the kitchen.

Returning his cup of tea to the relative safety of the end table next to his chair, the old man sighs and wonders how long it’ll be before he’s rewarded for good deeds done with a serving of his favorite treat. “Ah well,” he mutters to himself, “I suppose I should go see whether it’s a ghost or goblin that’s invaded our bathroom.”

Levering his body out of his favorite chair, the old man walks down the hallway and turns into the bathroom in time to see a washcloth fall to the floor. Bending closer to the fallen object, he watches intently as the cloth moves in jerks and fits, as if possessed by an unfriendly spirit.

“I’ll be darn,” he mutters. “Seems like the wife is right. We do have a ghost in the house.” With a bit of trepidation, the old man puts out his right hand, index finger first, and stops the progress of the washcloth into the darkness under the sink cabinet. Pulling gently on the cloth, he feels a bit of resistance to its backward movement and then it’s as if the cloth came loose from a splinter and moves easily back into the bathroom.

Picking up the cloth, he puts it in the hamper for washing and is about to return to his chair and the book he was reading when the hand towel hanging from its holder beside the sink suddenly falls to the floor and takes the same track as the wash cloth under the sink.

“Once is a mystery, twice is a plot.” Bending over, the old man retrieves the towel and replaces it on the bar, only to see it fall to the floor and vanish under the sink stand. Replaying the event in his mind, the old man catches a brief glimpse of a white arm and paw snagging the towel from its bar. “I think I’ve found the ‘ghost’ that’s haunting our bathroom,” he mutters to himself as his wife is nowhere around.

“Guess I’ll just have to de haunt the bathroom,” he says, grinning at such an easy task as capturing a white cat or kitten. “I’ll just go find a bit of meat and set my trap for the ‘ghost’ where it can find the food.”

Putting actions to words, the old man walks into the kitchen, opens the refrigerator and takes a bit of raw hamburger. Rolling the meat into a ball, he walks back into the bathroom and sets the meat near the wash stand and then waits for the inevitable. That being the cat or kitten smelling the meat and being captured by him before it can retreat into its hiding place.

Seconds drag into minutes while the old man waits for the ‘ghost’ to grow hungry and try to take the meat he’s set as a trap. Suddenly the meat vanishes from where he’s placed it.

“Hum,” he mutters, “little beggar is faster than I thought. Reckon I’ll have to be a bit smarter in trapping it.”

Returning to the kitchen, the old man takes another bit of hamburger from the refrigerator and this time wraps it in a bit of cheesecloth, to which he attaches a string. “That should keep the little thief from stealing the meat.”

Instead of walking back into the bathroom, the old man tosses the bait near the sink stand and then pulls the string taut, waiting for just the right moment to pull the meat thief out. “Patience is a virtue,” the old man mutters to himself. “Shame I ain’t got none.”

Half an hour later the towel thief strikes again, pulling the bundled meat under the sink stand, only this time the old man is pulling back. Before the white kitten can release the meat, the old man grabs it by the scruff of its neck and holds it up triumphantly.

“Gotcha,” he says to the kitten. Turning the kitten around so they can see eye to eye, the old man assesses the kitten’s condition with a well-practiced eye. “Looks like you could use a bit more food, and a better place to sleep.”

Holding the kitten in the crook of his arm, the old man peels the cheesecloth off the meat and feeds it to the kitten in small bites. “Don’t wanna make you sick. Looks like you’ve been hungry for a very long time.”

Walking back into the kitchen, he sees his wife walking up the steps to the back porch and waits for her to come in the back door. When she does, he proudly holds up the kitten and says, “Here’s your ghost dear.” Then, with a small grin, he adds. “Guess we’ve got another mouth to feed. However, at a table as long as ours, another won’t make that much difference.”

Handing the kitten to his wife, the old man opens the refrigerator and pulls out a gallon of milk, a bottle of fresh cream he’d intended to make butter out of, and a small piece of hamburger. Giving the meat to his wife for the kitten, he adds cream to milk, places it in a small pan and heats the mixture to body warmth.

Pouring the milk and cream into a saucer, he sets it on the floor and watches as the hungry kitten laps the milk. Making sure the kitten has enough to eat, the old man is about to return to his book when he decides to see where the kitten got into the bathroom.

“Must be a rat hole in there if a kitten this size could get in.” Walking back into the bathroom, he watches in wonder as the hand towel he’d hung back on the rod vanishes under the sink stand.

“Okay, so there’s more than one kitten in here,” he mutters. Getting down on his hands and knees, the old man peers under the stand and then puts his right hand into the darkness. For all his grunting and groaning, all he retrieves is the hand towel. Pulling a flashlight out of the sink cabinet drawer, he shines it under the stand and stares at a solid wall and floor. There’s a bit of dust under the stand, and in the dust he can see the paw prints of the kitten. Other than that, there’s no sign of any other kittens, or even a place where the smallest of mice could invade the bathroom.

“Huh,” he grunts as he settles back on his knees. “I wonder,” he says as he replaces the towel. Several seconds pass, and then the towel falls to the floor and makes it way under the sink stand.

“Well,” he says to the sink stand, “if you need the towel so bad, I guess I’ll just let you have it.” Opening a towel cabinet, the old man takes out a hand towel, places it on the towel rod, and waits to see if it too vanishes under the sink stand. Several minutes pass and the towel stays where he’s placed it.

Chuckling to himself, the old man returns to his chair and the book he’s been reading. When his wife walks into the living room carrying the kitten, she looks at him and smiles. “So this is the ghost in the bathroom,” she asks holding up the kitten?

“Ghost. That’s a good name for her,” the old man says, returning to his reading. “I’m not even going to speculate on whom or what stole the hand towel.”
More rampant silliness.

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