Notes follow the (mediocre) story.

he old man cleared his throat and started, as always, with his pipe in his left hand, the tobacco in his right.

"I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was in a part of the city that no longer exists, some new high rise or something is there now, and I was in love. My darling Rebecca, who became you boys' mother's mother, was with me, and we were so young and dazzled by our love."

Grandfather Calker paused at the start of his story to send an evil eye at Johnny, who was getting pretty rambunctious. Johnny wasn't like his three brothers, who loved to hear Gramps' stories. Johnny had trouble sitting still, but he was still cowed enough by the old man's hard stare to sit back down on the living room floor, and keep his hands out of Ron's hair.

The interruption settled, Calker settled back in the old, overstuffed recliner, crossed his right leg over his left, and went on. "Your grandmother and I were out in the night, just happy to be with each other. I can remember how soft her skin felt, and how good she smelled. Ah, her hair was fire on her head, and every time we passed under a street light I would look down at her silken hair, and see the shining scarlet. Oh how beautiful she was."

By now Johnny was fidgeting again, and was engaged in his usual attack on his younger brother's rat tail. Ron tried to ignore him, for although he was younger, he knew Grandfather better than John. Ron knew that if Gramps was left alone, his stories, which always started out slow, would pick up, and usually have some pretty good gooshy stuff in them. He had once told about the time he was in a fight in some bar overseas during the war. Ron wasn't sure where "overseas" was, but whenever Gramps said it, it had a mystical feel that conjured up images of exotic dragons and flying creatures of all sorts.

Fortunately for boys, Calker didn't notice the disturbance before him. He was lost in his narrative, and the memories of his dead wife. Without more than the briefest pause, he went on, and now he was more focused. He breezed through the memories of his lovely Rebecca, and moved onto the part he knew the boys would like better.

"Anyway, we were coming up on the Huntson place. It had been abandoned for years, and sometimes kids would go over to it and throw rocks at the windows. None of them ever went in, for it was supposed to be haunted, and the only kids who cared enough to break the few shards left in the windows were too young to brave the terrors inside. I can remember busting out a few panes when I was younger, but Rebecca and I fashioned ourselves far too mature for such activities."

Calker knew that he had to get the boys interested early, for he liked to see them entranced by his stories, and if he didn't create a hook early on, their attention would wander. Johnny was causing trouble as always, but Gramps figured that once he got to the good part, the boy would settle down. Once he had been like Johnny, never able to sit still for a minute. Ah for the energy of youth.

"Well Rebecca was feeling rambunctious, and she tightened her grip on my hand and dragged me towards the front door."

"'Let's go inside.'" she said, and how would I refuse her when she turned her flashing eyes towards me?"

"I tried to stop her, but she was set on it, and you boys probably know already how hard it is to change the mind of a redheaded girl once it's made up."

Tom, the oldest boy, nodded, thinking of Janet, his eighth grade girl friend. Several times she had decided to do something, and no matter how hard it was, she persisted until the task was complete. Tom couldn't imagine how she had become so stubborn, but now that he knew it was due to her hair color, he felt better about it.

Gramps Calker was still talking, and Tom gave his attention back to the man, hoping he hadn't missed much.

"Well the door was stuck shut, and I figured it was locked. I
started to walk away, forgetting about Rebecca's damned stubbornness. She insisted that I get it open, and when she threw in the offer of a kiss as a reward, well all of a sudden I was more determined than she was!"

Gramps taped off in a fit of chuckling, which the boys couldn't understand, except for Tom. He could remember all five kisses Janet had planted on his cheeks, and the one she had put on his lips. After every one, he had felt like tearing down the sky and squeezing milk from the moon if she had wanted some. He'd break down 10 haunted house doors for her, especially if a kiss were in the making.

"Well the door was stuck fast, and all the downstairs windows were covered with iron bars. It looked like there was no way in, but I wasn't about to give up with Rebecca there urging me on. She was looking around too, I suppose, trying to see a way in, but I think that even her enthusiasm was waning in the shadow of the front entrance.

"I don't think I've described the place very well to you boys, for you don't have any idea how the house looked. It was something, let me tell you. There were three stories, with at least six or seven rooms on each one. There was even some kind of basement, for we could see dirt encrusted boards under more iron bars down low on the sides of the house. The front door was under a large overhang, with peeling paint, dry rotted wood, you name it. The place's reputation for being haunted was certainly deserved, for even with my passion for Rebecca to keep me warm, I was shivering in the dark shadow of fear. The street lights looked a thousand miles away, and were moving farther and farther off every second. I think I would have called the whole thing off right there, kiss or no kiss, if Rebecca hadn't noticed a piece of metal on the dusty ground right by the door.

The whole porch was well covered by the looming house, and the dust was so thick our footprints were as obvious as new-fallen snow on Christmas. Rebecca bent over and picked up the metal, shaking off the dust. It looked like a comb missing most of its teeth, but I soon realized that it was a key. One of those old ones with just one big tooth on the end, instead of little grooves all up and down it. Even then it was strange to see, and I think that you boys might not even recognize it today!"

Johnny, who was intrigued and a little frightened by the vivid
description of the house Gramps had just delivered, had no idea what he was describing as a key. He had seen the old metal ones in movies, but had never used one. His house and all the cars he was even in either had keypads or slits for ID cards, and he could hardly imagine sticking a piece of metal in a door to make it open. How did the computer know that you wanted to open the door, instead of turning on the lights or something?

Gramps, who had no idea how right he was about the key, went on, savoring the rapt looks the boys wore.

"Well Rebecca had the key in the old lock before I could even
move, but I didn't think it would work. It had to be fifty years old, and was probably rusted shut. She grunted a bit, and pushed her weight against the key. Before I could even say that was risky, the key snapped, and as she fell, my heart nearly went right out my mouth. I managed to catch her, and let me tell you, that was an experience. Oh to be young again. Anyway, the key had broken off, but I could see it was still sticking out of the lock a bit. Rebecca was too angry to thank me for catching her, and she attacked the remaining bit of the key with a vengeance."

"It moved, a little, she said, as she used her shirt tail to help
her grip the stump of the key. I heard a low click, as the lock turned over. Rebecca stepped back, and even in the dark, I could see her beaming smile. Before she could say it, I stepped forward, and put my weight against the door. It was unlocked, but was still stuck in the frame, having swelled or some such fool thing. I threw my shoulder against it a few times, until it snapped open directly.

"The door grudgingly swung open, with a scream of hinges. I had forgotten all about how far away the street lights had looked, and I didn't even wonder why the key would have been lying right at the foot of the door for fifty years without some burglar finding it and emptying out the house.

"It was pitch black inside, and all I had was a book of
matches I always carried. I was about to pop one, when Rebecca started fidgeting with something. Before I could ask what she was doing, she had a flashlight out of her purse and clicked to light. More light than I wanted, I think, since we could sure see the place clearly then.  Spooky, is the only word that came to mind.  The cobwebs were so thick that the walls were hardly visible. I guess all the broken windows let bugs in, but my God, there must have been an army of spiders to spin all that silk.  I remember thinking it was a silk blizzard."

Ron could imagine, since just a few days ago it had been snowing so heavily he had hardly been able to see the street.  He'd asked his mom if it was a blizzard, and she said no, those were even worse!

"After a minute of looking around, visually following the circle of light, I started to wonder where Rebecca had gotten the flashlight. As she so often did, she read my mind, and answered before I could even ask the question. 'My mother always makes me take it when we go out at night. I never thought it would come in handy, but I carried it anyway. It's certainly better than sitting in the living room, with her listening through the kitchen door to everything we say!'"

"Well I had no cause to say anything with all my questions
answered, so I just followed Rebecca, who was walking towards the hallway. There was a big staircase over on the right, and several doors off to the left. The dust was very thick under foot, and our feet were clearly the first to tread there in many years. There was still plenty of furniture around, although most of it was either overturned, or just destroyed. I didn't see any point to the destruction, but since Rebecca was handling the flashlight, I had no chance to examine it more closely.

"Let me make sure you kids understand something, that was no ordinary house. Sure it was big and empty, but there was something special inside. I couldn't see or hear anything, but I felt like I was out in an open field while the sky turned from purple to yellow. There was a feeling of apprehension in the air like I'd never known before, or even after, when I was overseas. It was like being in a closet in a power plant during the hottest day of the year. There was all kinds of stuff going on, I just couldn't see any of it.

"If Rebecca felt like me, she didn't let on, for she just kept
going forward, slashing down cobwebs with a small limb she'd picked up outside like some crazy maid. I was too scared to do anything, so I just followed her, and tried to stay close to the light, which seemed to be shrinking in that infernally dark house.

"We explored quite a bit of the place, covering most of the ground floor, and part of the second and third. There weren't hardly any spiderwebs outside of the living room right near the front door, and none at all on the second or third floor, though we didn't think much about that at the time.

"Throughout all of the search, my fear didn't die down, and quite the opposite, kept getting stronger. I was loathe to show Rebecca, who kept leading the way, my fright, but eventually I became too frightened to go on. I reached out to tap her shoulder, and for once she didn't know what I was going to do before I did it.

"My gentle tap scared her terribly, and she leaped clear into the air, dropping the flashlight. It hit the floor and went out, leaving us in the terrible dark. We started to talk at once, and then bent forward together, both going after the flashlight. Out foreheads connected, and we both recoiled, falling in unison to our backsides. It would have been funny if it wasn't so dark and scary, but I could hear Rebecca moaning, either from repressed laughter of pain. Although I hate to admit it, I didn't really care how she felt right then. I was scared out of my mind, and wanted nothing but lights. As I groped around in the dust, looking for the light, I encountered something warm and pliable. I squeezed it lightly, thinking it was Rebecca's leg.

"Just then there was a noise across the room, and the light came back on. I sensed some violent movement next to me, and was washed in a cloud of foul air and dust. I rolled over backwards, towards the light. Rebecca was looking at me, and scolding me for getting so dirty and scaring her. Suddenly her eyes got really wide, and she took a step backwards. Her mouth opened like a fish out of water, and the flashlight beam wavered over my head. There was some kind of thick noise behind me, and it shot me into action.

"I leapt to my feet, and grabbed Rebecca with my right hand, and the flashlight with my left. As we rushed out, heading for the small door to the rear, I saw only the floor near the door. There was nothing there, but all of the dust was gone, and the room was absolutely filled with the stench of dried fish.
The door led to a small service stairway, apparently used by the servants in years gone by. Rebecca was by now wailing like a fire alarm, and I could only wonder what she had seen. I had done nothing more than touch its foot, and I was scared out of my mind, so I could only imagine what it had looked like to put Rebecca to screaming like she was.

"We were by then on a spiral staircase with tall wooden steps, going down it like you boys on the last day of school. Fortunately the house was still in good repair, and the stairs weren't cracking under our weight. They felt exceptionally stout to me, but just as we reached the door to the second floor, there was a tremendous creak from above. I could only imagine something immense coming down after us, but Rebecca could do more than that, for at the sound of the creak, she shut up immediately, and clung to me almost tighter than I could stand.

"I pulled on the door at the next level down, but it was locked tight; I couldn't even budge it. I flashed the light at Rebecca's face, and saw that she was pale white. White as a ghost, I thought then, and wished I hadn't, given the circumstances. For the first time I feared more for her than myself, and this gave me the strength to pull her away from the door, and continue down the stairs.

"The thing was still behind us, but it was apparently having trouble fitting through the narrow stairway, for there were more creaks and wooden squeals than sounds of progress. Whatever it was it suddenly let out a scream of pure hatred, deafening us in the closed area we were stuck in.

"Boy, I've never gone down stairs like I did then, and that was while holding onto Rebecca with one arm. She was like a rag doll, just clinging to me and following blindly. The flashlight beam bounced around while we went down to the next door, which was locked also. The thing up above was still screaming, and the feeling of the charged air was stronger than ever.

"We went down the next circle in about three steps, and found, to our tremendous relief, no door. We were in the basement, and it looked to be a large kitchen. The tile floor was all torn up, and all of the cabinets were ripped off their hinges and scattered around the room. My hair was standing on end, and for the first time, I could hear something. The room was vibrating from the walls in, nearly moving my teeth in their sockets. Rebecca was moving around a little more, so I was able to get her hands off of my neck, and out to arms length, so I could move more easily. She was making no sound at all, and since I certainly didn't feel like starting a conversation, we moved on in silence.

"The thing up above had stopped screaming, and if it was still coming after us it was doing it in silence. There was no sound, except the buzzing from the walls. The very room was vibrating, and I soon found the source. I led Rebecca to one of the three closed doors, and opened it easily, leading the way with the light.

"There wasn't anything there, but it was still the most frightening thing I have ever seen. The air was alive, but with nothing. It was like looking into a pond and seeing a perfectly normal reflection, and then suddenly having a good-sized rock dropped in. The image is still there, but it is broken up, destroyed by the rippling surface. The room was another section of the kitchen, this one with a small table and many more cabinets, these mostly intact. It was a small room, with very thick walls, which is probably why they were still inside. I didn't really see them, just the walls beyond. Everything was moving madly, but with a sense of perfect order, as if someone had turned an insane drill instructor loose on an asylum. Every molecule of air in the room was vibrating furiously, distorting the very fabric of reality. Indeed, in places I could see right through the tear in space, into the blackness beyond.

"I took all this in in an instant, and slammed the door with all my might. Closing it before Rebecca could get a look, and hopefully before the things inside could see me. I somehow knew that they weren't just there, they were imprisoned, and wanted out. They also hated, and I would do as well as anyone for the start of their revenge. As soon as the door was shut, the vibrations got much worse, until the entire house was shaking. I could feel my feet moving across the floor as the tremors rocked the room. I led Rebecca towards the other doors as fast as my feet could carry me, only to find them locked. The entire room was on the verge of utter destruction as the broken tiles on the floor jumped around like fleas in search of hot blood.

"We had no choice but to go back up the stairs to one of the locked doors, and hope whatever it was up on the third floor hadn't come down any further. The running and danger seemed to have brought Rebecca out of her daze, and she led the way as I paused to grab a small wooden chair. We reached the first door without incident, although the shaking was still getting worse. I felt that I had somehow broken a seal on the door by opening it, and that the vibrating things were going to escape in a matter of time.

"I backed Rebecca away, and swung the chair at the door with all my might. It shattered, the chair, not the door, and I discarded the broken back in preference for a leg that was uncracked. I took several strong whacks at the handle, and felt it give a little.

"Shattering my concentration, the air was split with the inhuman cries of the thing above. It was trying to move again, and I didn't think the stairs could stand it. The noises of its descent was soon louder than its screams, for it was just about directly over our heads, and the stairs were dying under the weight of its passage.

"I frantically battered the doorknob with my second chair leg, since the first one had shattered. I had two more to go, and I thought I might need them, since I had not yet succeeded in knocking off the handle. Rebecca was pointing the light towards the old brass handle, and making some kind of keening noise, while I beat the door for all I was worth. It seemed indestructible, until there was a ping of metal and the handle fell to the floor. I threw my body against it, and felt it give a little. It didn't feel locked, just blocked, perhaps by some of the destroyed furniture.

"My task was suddenly made harder when Rebecca deserted her post, and the light vanished. I hardly paused in my efforts, throwing myself against the door violently, moving the obstruction a little every time. I happened to glance over my shoulder in time to see Rebecca going up the stairs, where the thing was making some strange low sound. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw my love going toward the monster. Adrenaline surged even stronger than before, and I made one more tremendous rush that finally opened the door enough to let me through. I didn't even consider leaving, but immediately whirled and grabbed Rebecca's hand. She tried to shake me off, but I held fast and jerked her back down the stairs. Something screamed in fury, and much like I had just done, lunged forward with an extra burst of power. 

"The very walls cracked, and the thing started down the few stairs separating it from us. Rebecca was like a dead body in my arms, as I struggled through the door. The thing tumbled down behind me, and smashed into the door just as I squeezed through, pulling Rebecca after me.

"I half dragged her through the dusty rooms, heading for the front door. I was running blind, for the flashlight was gone, but I was pretty sure where I was heading. Amazingly, the door was still open, and we had a straight shot at it from the doorway we stumbled through. I could see the streetlights, still distant, but more welcome than ever.

"Behind me the crashing suddenly stopped, and I figured that the creature, which had been too big to fit through the door, had fallen all the way to the bottom. There was another crash, and the whole house jumped about six inches. This sent us to the floor, me taking the brunt of the blow as I tried to protect my nearly comatose Rebecca.

"There was a brief silence as we struggled to out feet, Rebecca seeming recharged by the fall. I was just tired, a multitude of aches and pains coursing through me. The thing screamed horribly, its voice echoing up the stairwell, and there was the sound of a muffled explosion. The odor of dry fish was instantly replaced by the hot smell of viscera, and I could only wonder what had happened to the beast.

"My question was answered, not by Rebecca, but by a rattling in my mouth. My teeth were rocking in their sockets, which meant only one thing, the ripples were loose. They must have encountered the thing on the stairs, and hit it like a demolition crew.

"They were now surging through the spiral staircase, heading up here, no doubt. I yanked Rebecca to her feet, and chased her towards the door at full speed. Most of her trance seemed to have evaporated, as she pulled ahead of me, and shot out the door. I paused at the door, knowing what I had to do. I struggled my book of matches out of my front right pocket, and battled them fiercely, trying to get one alight. There were ancient curtains aplenty in the house, and I thought that they would probably burn very well. This place needed some more heat anyway.

"Just as I lit a match, and reached towards the curtains next to the door, they saw me. The darkness rippled impossibly, as they came through it, a river in the air. Like a swarm of invisible bees, they flew through the darkness, a solid jet of power. I didn't move, but held the match to the curtain, which wouldn't quite take to the flame. Finally the fire spread upwards, but just as I whirled towards the door the ripples hit me, driving me out into the front yard like a bullet from the barrel. I can't really remember what happened after that, only that it hurt a lot."

Here Grandfather Calker finally paused, and looked introspectively out towards the street. The boys were all spellbound, unable to even move. The old man had been talking for nearly an hour straight, and the boys were so involved in the story they don't realize that it might be over.

Calker certainly seems to be done talking, as he leans back even farther in his chair, looking chilled. The fireplace is blazing, and he has on sweatpants and two sweaters, but the kind of cold only old people are susceptible to has gripped him by the soul.

Tom finally breaks the silence by asking, "Grandpa, what happened to the house?"

A minute passed, and Tom feared that he wouldn't get an answer. Just as he prepared to say something else, Grandfather Calker starts talking again, in a voice far removed from his earlier one. He barely whispers the words, and the boys strain forwards to hear him.

"Well, Rebecca went and got help for me, and they rushed us both off to the hospital. I was in traction for three months, while my back amazed every specialist in the country by healing the multiple vertebrae separations. The skin never healed, but I can live with that. It's a small price to pay for not being paralyzed."

The boys didn't really understand what he was talking about, but they knew better than to interrupt. Even Johnny stayed still, while Tom imagined himself in the hospital with Janet taking care of him, attending to his every need. He thinks briefly about the bedpans he has seen in movies, and how Janet would handle such a situation, but this is too much and he turns away from the thought with his adolescent mind reeling.

Calker feels much the same, as he relives the trauma of his near death as a sixteen year old boy. He remembers Rebecca visiting him every day, and the visits from the police and then mysterious "government men". They asked all sorts of question about what happened in the house, and didn't seem at all surprised by his bizarre answers.

He was in a daze, and forgot most of the horrific details of the year it took him to recover and get back to his life. Only lately have they come back to him, for he hadn't thought about what happened in the house for more than fifty years. He doesn't know what prompted him to tell the boys the story, or kept him going once he'd started it. Rebecca would never talk about the thing that was on the stairs, and Calker has never been able to imagine what it could have looked like. He remembers asking the government men, but they wouldn't tell him anything, except, "We'll ask the questions here, Mr. Calker."

All of his life he's had the memory of the feel of that foot in the dark room aching in his hand, and suddenly in a flash of insight, he realizes the strange patch of skin on his back the ripples left him feels just the same as the thing in the dark. This thought is not as earthshaking as it might have been, for the patch has never changed size in fifty years.

While he is thinking about this, Calker opens his mouth,
unsure as to what will fall out. "The house didn't burn down, so I guess the flame went out. I read the paper quite a bit in the hospital, and followed the investigation of the house closely. As far as I could tell, two cops went in to investigate Rebecca's wild and largely hysterical story. 

They soon summoned four more, and together with the county medical examiner, they explored the house. I guess they needed the doctor to check out whatever was left of the thing on the stairs. That's where the government got involved. The paper was shut out of the inside information, but it doesn't seem that they found anything unusual,
except for the remains of some large animal. The ripples were tricky, and probably hid from the cops. I can only imagine them in there to this day, vibrating in place, waiting for someone to come to visit." 

Just then the garage door burst open and the boys' parents came in, arms full of bags packed with Christmas presents. Calker sat up suddenly, and before the boys raced off, driven to distraction by thoughts of the presents behind the colorful paper, he spoke.

"Don't you go telling any of this to your parents, boys. They don't suspect any of it, and they might take the truth the wrong way. Many people do. You might have some nightmares, lord knows I have, but don't let on where you got the dreams, or else you probably won't get to hear any more stories."

"I've got more, you know. That wasn't the end of my encounter with the ripples."

I found it sort of odd that it's set in the future, and that bit with the key and the computer knowing what to turn on was cute.  In fact I think that the opening bits with the boys' thoughts about this and that are the best part.  Once the actual recollected story got going I obviously lost interest in interrupting with that stuff.  Lazy Flux!  No cookie!

The opening and tone is sort of Stephen King, with some half-assed Lovecraftian ancient mystery junk thrown in, but overall I'm not impressed with it, and wouldn't recommend it, really.  It's just here as part of my ongoing disclosure of older work, or something.

You'll notice that this is Ghost #1.  I have six "ghost#.wpd" files in my old back up directory, copied over from floppy disks from years and years ago.  Fortunately, given how mediocre this one is, 2-4 are just short fragments, judging by the size.  Five is 37k though, so probably a completed story.  I have no memory of any of them, but I'll read them at some point and if #5 is close to tolerable, I'll probably add it here.

As a friend said upon reading this:

Yes, that's a better line than anything in the story itself.

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