smile.
John walked over to the large metallic trunk he had laid out in the foyer and extracted a tripod and video camera. He assembled the tripod and mounted the camera on top with only a few well-practiced motions.
“Mr. Smythe, I’m going to leave some pieces of monitoring equipment here for the weekend. I’ll set this recorder up in the bedroom upstairs. You say that’s where you get the hot and cold flashes and where most of the sounds seem to emanate from?”
“There and the guest bedroom. Actually, it’s just a storage room. I don’t have guests very often, especially to stay the night.”
Eve had to repress an urge to give a pitiable sigh.
“Okay. This camera is fitted with an infrared lens, which basically means it can see in the dark. I’ll also place a digital recorder in the storage room and one in the kitchen. All I ask is that you press record before you retire for the night. Eve and I have taken EMF and temperature readings and when I come back on Monday, I’ll bring a few more instruments and see what we get. Hopefully, we’ll find something on the recorder tape that’ll point us in the right direction.”
“Do you mind if I take some pictures?” Eve asked.
“Sure, go right ahead.”
Eve grabbed camera from the metal case and started taking pictures of all the rooms in the house.
Ed started rubbing his hands together again. He said to John, “If there is a ghost here, can you get rid of it?” He looked like a child waiting to hear his school’s name mentioned on the radio in the early morning of a snowstorm.
“Sorry to say, I couldn’t. It’s not what I do. If you like, I could put you in touch with people who claim they can.” He leaned in closer, as if to impart a well-kept secret. “Personally, I don’t believe there’s any sure way to eradicate what we call a ghost. It’s my belief that they’re a sort of trapped energy, and short of discovering a way to convert this energy into something else, I’m not sure what can be done. Now, that’s not to say that you’d be stuck living with a ghost for the rest of your life. In many cases, it seems to stop as suddenly and as inexplicably as it starts.”
John was taking a chance speaking so bluntly to Ed, but sugar coating his true feelings was never his strong suit.
Ed digested his words for a bit, and said, “Will prayer work? I read Mark Roman’s book on poltergeists and it said prayer or exorcisms are the only solution.”
John shook his head. “As I said before, I believe we’re dealing with forms of energy. Just like prayer won’t turn a light bulb on, I don’t believe it can turn a paranormal presence off.”
Ed chuckled but his eyes told John that his words, however truthful, had deepened the man’s growing sense of apprehension. Ed Smythe was a middle-aged, bookish bachelor under a lot of stress. Caring for a sick, elderly parent, especially the last living parent, took its toll on a person. Odds are, the nighttime manifestations that had begun six months ago were simply the workings of a tired mind that couldn’t shut itself down. John could sympathize. If he could show Ed that his house was indeed not inhabited by a mischievous entity, maybe that would be enough to calm his overactive imagination.
Then there was the other side of the coin. Perhaps something not of this reality was in Ed Smythe’s house. Something brought on by his anxiety, attracted to it like a gnat to sweat-soaked skin. It could be a physical symptom of the pent-up emotions that Ed kept locked inside as he did his best to cope with a lonely existence, his dead end job and his sick mother. Or maybe it had always been there, lurking unseen, unheard, unfelt, making itself known now for reasons as yet undetermined.
It was these two possibilities that brought John not just to Ed Smythe’s house, but to this line of work. People like Ed were the reason he took a fascinating, private hobby and made it public; frightened,
John walked over to the large metallic trunk he had laid out in the foyer and extracted a tripod and video camera. He assembled the tripod and mounted the camera on top with only a few well-practiced motions.
“Mr. Smythe, I’m going to leave some pieces of monitoring equipment here for the weekend. I’ll set this recorder up in the bedroom upstairs. You say that’s where you get the hot and cold flashes and where most of the sounds seem to emanate from?”
“There and the guest bedroom. Actually, it’s just a storage room. I don’t have guests very often, especially to stay the night.”
Eve had to repress an urge to give a pitiable sigh.
“Okay. This camera is fitted with an infrared lens, which basically means it can see in the dark. I’ll also place a digital recorder in the storage room and one in the kitchen. All I ask is that you press record before you retire for the night. Eve and I have taken EMF and temperature readings and when I come back on Monday, I’ll bring a few more instruments and see what we get. Hopefully, we’ll find something on the recorder tape that’ll point us in the right direction.”
“Do you mind if I take some pictures?” Eve asked.
“Sure, go right ahead.”
Eve grabbed camera from the metal case and started taking pictures of all the rooms in the house.
Ed started rubbing his hands together again. He said to John, “If there is a ghost here, can you get rid of it?” He looked like a child waiting to hear his school’s name mentioned on the radio in the early morning of a snowstorm.
“Sorry to say, I couldn’t. It’s not what I do. If you like, I could put you in touch with people who claim they can.” He leaned in closer, as if to impart a well-kept secret. “Personally, I don’t believe there’s any sure way to eradicate what we call a ghost. It’s my belief that they’re a sort of trapped energy, and short of discovering a way to convert this energy into something else, I’m not sure what can be done. Now, that’s not to say that you’d be stuck living with a ghost for the rest of your life. In many cases, it seems to stop as suddenly and as inexplicably as it starts.”
John was taking a chance speaking so bluntly to Ed, but sugar coating his true feelings was never his strong suit.
Ed digested his words for a bit, and said, “Will prayer work? I read Mark Roman’s book on poltergeists and it said prayer or exorcisms are the only solution.”
John shook his head. “As I said before, I believe we’re dealing with forms of energy. Just like prayer won’t turn a light bulb on, I don’t believe it can turn a paranormal presence off.”
Ed chuckled but his eyes told John that his words, however truthful, had deepened the man’s growing sense of apprehension. Ed Smythe was a middle-aged, bookish bachelor under a lot of stress. Caring for a sick, elderly parent, especially the last living parent, took its toll on a person. Odds are, the nighttime manifestations that had begun six months ago were simply the workings of a tired mind that couldn’t shut itself down. John could sympathize. If he could show Ed that his house was indeed not inhabited by a mischievous entity, maybe that would be enough to calm his overactive imagination.
Then there was the other side of the coin. Perhaps something not of this reality was in Ed Smythe’s house. Something brought on by his anxiety, attracted to it like a gnat to sweat-soaked skin. It could be a physical symptom of the pent-up emotions that Ed kept locked inside as he did his best to cope with a lonely existence, his dead end job and his sick mother. Or maybe it had always been there, lurking unseen, unheard, unfelt, making itself known now for reasons as yet undetermined.
It was these two possibilities that brought John not just to Ed Smythe’s house, but to this line of work. People like Ed were the reason he took a fascinating, private hobby and made it public; frightened,
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