A Haunted Marriage & The Cookie Baking Poltergeist

Chapter 4: Netflix Night

    "AAAAAAHHHHHHH. Holy s**t," Julia screamed.

    Michael ran into his front hallway, dropping his briefcase along the way with a resounding thud. Not stopping his running, Michael made a quick right turn at the end of the hallway into the kitchen. There he found his wife in mid scream with both of her hands on her cheeks. Michael saw the same oddity that his wife did. Every cabinet door in the kitchen stood wide open. Each wood door stood perpendicular to the wall. All of the Blake's dishes and spices were visible for anyone to see. Every drawer below those cabinets was also pulled open, exposing every piece of the Blake's silverware. One propped open drawer contained a set of screw drivers and various pocket knives. The window above the kitchen sink was open, with a stiff breeze causing the red curtains to billow inward. Michael jogged over to slam the window shut.

    "I heard you as I pulled into the driveway. What's wrong?"

    "I came into the kitchen and found every cabinet open like, like they are now. I was in here a little while ago and they were all closed. I also noticed that sweet smell again. We have to check that basement again."

    Michael glanced over at the window. "It's been windy all day. Maybe they were all blown open." Or more likely we have the spirit of someone who used to live here, according to Jack Stone. But that can't be possible. That's spiritual crap isn't real.

        "I have never heard of a breeze strong enough to blow open heavy wood cabinets. This is very freaky," Julia said before sniffing the air.

Julia walked over to the sink and closed every cabinet and drawer. "I smell that baked cookie or cake smell again."

    "I have to agree. It's coming from the basement," Michael said as he walked over and opened the basement door.

    Julia coughed after Michael opened the door. "This time it's much stronger. I also smells like something is burning along with that sweet smell."

    Without waiting for Julia, Michael walked down into the basement. He heard Julia close behind him. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Michael said, "It stinks down here. It smells like something is burning, but I don't see anything."

    "I don't see anything either. We have to spray some Lysol down here or something."

    Michael looked above his head to make sure the smoke detector was affixed to the ceiling. Michael reached up to push the smoke detector button and a loud beeping starting causing Julia to place her hands over her ears.

   "Ok Mike. Shut it off. We know it works."

    Michael released the button silencing the alarm. "Maybe in the past there was a fire down here."

    "Maybe. I knew that real estate agent was hiding something. I don't see any evidence of a fire."

    "Neither do I." I have to ask Mr. Stone or Susan next door if she knows anything about a fire in this house.

    "What the hell is going on here Michael?"

    Should I tell her? Do I bother telling a wife with anger management issues that we might have a ghost or something else that has taken up residence in our basement. She thinks I am crazy just for moving upstate already.

    Michael walked over to Julia and hugged her before kissing her on the cheek. "I had a talk with two people who knew a little more about this house than our incompetent real estate agent. I met our neighbor next door. She's an older woman living alone named Susan Idleman. Very nice lady. I have to take you to meet her. Anyway, she said in the past a woman lived in this house, I think her name was Frances Pine. Apparently, Frances like to bake quite a bit. Cookies were her specialty. This very basement used to have an oven where Frances liked to bake her cookies. She liked to bake them for her grandchild especially. Frances also died of a heart attack in this very basement."

    Julia removed herself from her husband's hug before saying. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me you believe we might have the ghost of a woman who lived in this house who liked to bake cookies?"

    "Crazy right? But it's possible. I never believed in that kind of stuff, but I don't know. One of the other teachers was talking about it at school today."

    "On Long Island we had the Amityville Horror house. I think they made several movies about it. Supposedly the house was haunted. But my aunt knew people who moved in there after the original family and they didn't notice anything. My aunt herself said the people there made up those ghost stories for attention and for money from a book and movie."

    "But there are plenty other people who claim that their homes have been haunted. You can see the videos on Youtube. Look at exorcisms. There are a real rite of the Catholic Church. The priest who married us claimed to have the rite in his desk."

    "The Exorcist was just an over the top movie. Scary, but I never believed in that kind of stuff."

    Michael walked over and took Julia's hand in his, repeatedly rubbing her palm with his thumb. "The Exorcist was based on a real exorcism that author William Peter Blatty read about in the nineteen forties. Although the real exorcism was of a boy and not a girl like in the movie."

    "So now you're saying we have a demon living in this house. Soon maybe my head will be rotating a full three hundred and sixty degree and I will spew green projectile vomit all over you. Mike, you have lost your mind. My sane husband no longer exists. I know you're a writer with a vivid imagination, but this is ridiculous. You were right the first time. The wind must have blown open those cabinets. It was just the wind."

    "You sound like someone who is trying to convince herself of something that they know really isn't true."

    "Mike spare me the psychobabble. We just have an old house with lots of drafts that need fixing. You need to apply your vivid imagination more to your writing. Or lack thereof. You haven't written a damn thing since we moved up here by the way. And you were the one who reallllly wanted to move. I have no one here. All my friends are back downstate and so are yours."

    "You wanted to move too."

    "Not as much as you. Do you know it gets below zero here in the winter."

    "That's why we chose a home with a fireplace."

    Julia looked into Michael's eyes before making her way past him and up the stairs.

    Michael grabbed the banister and jogged up after her. When he reached the kitchen he stared at the same thing that Julia was staring at. The drawer next to the sink was open again, exposing all of the silverware.

    Julia ran over and slammed the door shut. "I must have forgotten that one."

    "But I saw you shut it before we went into the basement."

    "I SAID I FORGOT IT. Don't you have faith in your wife anymore?"

    "Of course I do. But I swear I remember you closing it."

    This time Julia did not answer her husband. She reached into the space next to the refrigerator. Julia's arm reappeared with a dustpan attached to a broom. "Are you going to go on about ghost stories our help me clean this is? It would be helpful if you grab an empty box from over there." Julia pointed to an empty shoe box by the basement door that previously contained their silverware.

    Michael hunched down and picked up the box before following Julia into the living room. Michael found his wife sweeping the shards of the wine glass into the dust pan.

    "What happened?" Michael asked.

    "Hold out that box for me will you."

        Michael complied and Julia dumped the glass into the box.

"You know Mike, in all your talk about this house and ghost and goblins you didn't bother asking me how my day was. That's what happily married couples are supposed to do."

        "You didn't ask me about my day either."

"Not that you care, but that job interview I went on today, which I thought had a chance at getting, I didn't get it."

    "So you therefore had a drink, which you most likely didn't drop, but flung at the wall in your frustration. You're f*****g unbelievable Julia. And what are you doing drinking during the day anyway. You're doing a great job recently for your AA tryouts."

    "And you're doing an even better job at being a failed writer."

    This is pointless. I am going out for awhile. I am so sick of this arguing. Maybe I should just leave her and move back with my mother on Long Island. But then I would have to get a job first and start all over.

    Michael tucked the box under his arm before running out the front door. The baking smell intensified once again. I don't care about that now. I need some breathing room for awhile. He threw the box on the porch before jogging out to his car. That b***h can paint the porch herself.

    Michael ran into his car and quickly backed out of the driveway. I will run to the supermarket real quick. Maybe I will bring her back something to eat.

                                                                                #

    While he was at the supermarket he didn't buy anything. Michael aimlessly walked up every aisle staring at his cell phone to see if Julia sent a text. Nothing. That was stupid. I should not have left like that. That probably pissed her off more. And I should have asked her about her day. I forgot she had that interview today.

    On his way home, Michael drove through a McDonalds and bought a twenty piece chicken nugget box and two large fries that he could share with Julia. When he pulled into his driveway, he noticed Julia through the kitchen window. She appeared to be washing dishes.

    Michael jogged up the porch steps with the McDonald's bag under his arm.

    "That smells like my favorite," Julia said walking up to Michael and giving him a hug. "I am so sorry about before."

    "So am I. Why don't we sit down and find something to watch on Netflix while devouring our chicken nuggets."

    "Sounds like a plan."

    Michael followed Julia into the living room and they both sat next to each other on the couch. Michael picked up the remote and scanned the listing of Netflix movies. "What do you want to watch?"

    "Anything, just no ghost stories. I have had enough of that for today."

    Being a big fan of horror movies and novels, Michael scanned the listing of the horror offerings of Netflix. Michael clicked on the 1968 version of Night of the Living Dead.

    "Mike you have to be kidding? After what happened here today and while we're eating."

    "Don't worry. This one isn't about ghosts, only flesh eating zombies. The director George Romero just died. No wonder why it's on here. This one is a classic. They had on Poltergeist the other night. Probably because its director, Tobe Hooper, just died too."

    Michael took another bite of a chicken nugget before watching the first scene of a young couple in a graveyard being chased by a zombie. The young man struggled with the zombie before being killed by striking his head on a gravestone. The young woman ran away from the zombie.

    Julia dipped her chicken nugget into sweet and sour sauce. She moved herself closer to her husband so her head nearly rested on his right shoulder. Julia stared at their wedding picture that she noticed she hung up slightly crooked. How handsome Michael looked in his black tuxedo with red ascot tie. I picked that one out in fine taste. How happy we were. I thought at the time that I found" the one." My hair could have looked better. I should have kept it down under the veil instead of up. I haven't felt like I felt when that photo was taken in a long time. I need to be a better wife. I don't think we're going to make it.

    Michael ate the final chicken nugget from the box before watching the scene of hundreds of zombies surrounding the rural farm house. The house in the movie does not look too different than this one. This home should have been our chance to make things right again. Michael gazed up from the television to look at their wedding photo. To me Julia didn't look just like a beautiful bride, but more like my personal angel. I swear she had an aura that day. How happy she was. Once in awhile, the old Julia rears its good natured, lovely head. Unfortunately, most of the time, her drinking has dulled her aura. I wonder if we're right for each other anymore? I have to try to be a better husband and listen to her more.

    Michael hit the pause button on the remote control. "Remember those two people. What happened to them?" he asked, turning to face his wife.

    "I don't know. I see two people that at that time were really like a team, but now, I don't know, maybe we've grown apart a little too much. We have to do something about that."

    Michael reached around and placed his hands on Julia's shoulders. "Remember our first date. I took you to the road on Long Island where they filmed the toll booth death scene of Sonny Corleone in The Godfather before going out to a Chinese restaurant."

    "Yeah, after waiting for weeks before asking me out when I worked at the library. You sat there for weeks pretending to read or write."

    "I wasn't pretending. I just needed to get some will power. And what other woman had a great first date like that?"

    Julia placed her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

    "What did you like about me?" Julia asked.

    "Obviously your beauty, especially the curly hair, but your passion. You had the same passion for books that I had. Both of our fathers left us at a young age. I finally had found someone I could talk Stephen King with, or let alone Tolstoy. You were the only girl I ever dated that could recall the first sentence to Anna Karenina, 'All happy families are alike and every unhappy family is alike in their own way.'"

    "So what are we now, a happy family or an unhappy one?"

    "We are going to be happy. I think tomorrow we are going to go out on a date. Maybe not as unique as our first one, but I will think of something."

    "That sounds great. I am sorry for being so hard on you lately. I know you moved up here to help us. You will be inspired to write that great book. That's what I always liked about you, besides the fact that you're so damn handsome, your will to go on."

     "I love you," Michael said before kissing Julia on the lips.

    "I love you to,"

    "You know something, the smells are gone. I don't smell cookies or any burning smell."

    "Neither do I," Julia said reaching for the remote to turn the television off. "I think it's time to go to bed with my dashing husband."