Ginger was puzzled, not sure what had awakened her from a sound sleep.  A noise, perhaps?  She waited in the darkness and listened for a few minutes, and upon hearing no noises, decided that it was nothing.  Perhaps she was not sleeping soundly because this was her first night in this house.
As she closed her eyes and prepared to go back to sleep, her eyes snapped open as she felt her covers being pulled away.  Was she imagining things?  She was astonished, and then terrified as her blanket kept sliding slowly toward the foot of the bed.  Too horrified to move, she lay there, not daring to breathe as the covers slid from the bed.
After lying there for several long minutes, she eased out of bed.  She rushed to the light switch and turned it on.  She turned to see the sheet and blanket lying on the floor at the foot of the bed.  Ginger had always prided herself on being a practical, no-nonsense person.  She was sure that there had to be some explanation for this. 
She sat down on the side of the bed.  “I probably got my foot tangled in the covers somehow, and pulled them down.  That, coupled with what the real estate agent told us about the house being haunted just got to me.”  She smiled to herself.  “I can’t believe that I, ‘Ginger Connors the Fearless,’ let myself get that frightened.”
She glanced at the clock; it was 12:30.  She rose up, and resolutely marched to the foot of the bed and picked up the covers.  As she began to remake the bed, a sudden chill came over her, and the hair on the nape of her neck stood up.  She had a strong feeling that she was not alone. 
The room turned icy cold and a musty smell filled the air.  The lights dimmed and blinked momentarily and then went out.  A muffled cry escaped her throat as she hurried through the dark toward the door.
She found the door and rushed outside into the hallway.  She ran to Patty’s room and hurried inside.  Patty, her four-year-old, lay sleeping peacefully on her bed, while Sparky, the little Pomeranian lay at the foot of the bed.  Sparky looked up inquisitively as Ginger entered.
Again, Ginger wondered if the events in her room had been all in her mind.  This was an old house, and it could  have faulty wiring, causing the light to go out.  She went to Patty’s bedside and checked to make sure all was OK. 
She gazed down lovingly at her daughter.  Patty’s honey-blonde hair, turned up nose, and slightly-too-large mouth was a younger version of her own features.  She leaned  over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. 
She reached down and patted Sparky on the forehead.  “You take care of Patty, OK?”  Sparky wagged his tail lazily.
Even though Ginger had convinced herself that all the weird events had probably been in her mind, she decided not to go back into her bedroom.  Not tonight, anyway.  She was too unsettled to go back to sleep now. She decided to go down into the living room and find a good novel to read until Greg came home from work.
This was Greg’s first day on the job since being transferred here.  He had been promised a promotion if he accepted the transfer, so he eagerly accepted.  The plant manager had assigned him to supervise the graveyard shift until he became more familiar with the workplace.  He wouldn’t be home until after 8:00 AM.
She and Greg had agreed to buy this house because it was dirt cheap, selling at a price they could easily afford.  The real estate agent had told them the house was so low priced because the locals considered it haunted, and nobody wanted to buy it.  The former owner, the agent said, had shot his wife and child and then turned the gun on himself.
The two-story house was old, but solid, and surrounded by giant oaks.  It was nearly a mile out of town and a thirty minute drive to Greg’s new workplace, but Ginger and Greg just couldn’t pass up the price.
She was looking through the bookshelf for a good book to read when she heard Patty scream, followed by Sparky’s high-pitched barking.  She ran up the stairs and rushed into Patty’s room.  Patty was sitting up in bed, shaking, and her blue eyes wide with fear.  Ginger sat on the bed and held Patty close to her.  “What is it, Sweet?  What’s the matter?”
Patty finally found her voice.  “Mommy, a man was in my room.  I woke up and saw him leaning over my bed, looking down at me.  Mommy, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be afraid, Sweetie.  You just had a bad dream.”
Patty clung tightly to Ginger.  “Mommy, I don’t want to stay here.  I want to go sleep with you.”
Ginger felt that she should put an end to this nonsense.  She should stay here with Patty until she fell asleep, and then she should go back to her own room and stay there for the rest of the night.  She had never believed in ghosts and such, and she wasn’t going to start now.
But instead, she said, “Mommy’s reading downstairs in the living room.  I’ll fix the couch for you to stay down there with me, okay?”
As much as she was loathe to admit it, Ginger knew that this thing was getting to her.
***
“I can’t accept that you’re actually believing these things you’re telling me,” said Greg.  “I think you listened too much to that real estate woman, and last night your imagination got a little overactive.”
“I didn’t imagine the covers being pulled off.”
“You said yourself that you thought it might have been your foot tangled in the covers.  I know you can be a restless sleeper sometimes.”
“What about the man in Patty’s room?”
“We both know that she sometimes imagines things.  She was probably dreaming.”  He held Ginger close to him.  “You know I wouldn’t do anything to cause harm to you and Patty.  I promise that if you continue to be frightened, I’ll consider your suggestion to look for a new house, even though we can ill afford it.  We were very, very lucky to find this one.”
Ginger couldn’t deny that.   Greg was still waiting for his promotion, and until he got it, they couldn’t afford to move. And anyway, they probably couldn’t find a buyer for this house.
She kissed him on the cheek.  “Okay.  I promise to wait until you’re promoted before thinking about a move.  Actually I like this house, and I’m willing to stay here.” She smiled.  “That is, unless something drastic happens.”
They both had a light meal of bacon, eggs, and toast before Greg went to sleep for the day.  After Greg went to bed, Ginger dressed, and she and Patty went into town.  She drove straight to the real estate office.
The agent, Minnie Smith, perked up when Ginger asked about the ghost.  Minnie, Ginger learned,  loved discussing supernatural things.  She admitted to being an amateur mystic and paranormal investigator.
“The murderer, Jess Horton, was said to be a little unstable--some thought he was a complete nutcase,” said Minnie.  “He worked at the plant, and wasn’t very popular there.  He was a big man, and something of a bully.  He delighted in terrorizing other workers, and especially delighted in threatening women.  Everyone was afraid of him.  But a few of the workers claimed that if anyone had the guts to call Jess’s bluff he would back off.
“One of the workers, a small man at that, claims to have actually cowed Jess by threatening to bash his head with a metal pipe.”
“Why did he kill his wife and child?”
“It was well known that they were having marital problems.  She was threatening divorce.” 
Her face showed pride.  “I’ve studied up on ghosts quite a bit, and it’s said that the restless spirits of the insane and unstable are the most likely to remain earthbound and cause trouble.  They are at their full power during the hours from midnight, until about 2:00 AM.  After that they weaken.  They’re still around, but can’t do much damage.”
“Then you believe that the ghost of Jesse is still there in the house?”  Ginger asked.
“Oh yes.   My paranormal team even investigated, and we were certain that he was there.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll stay there.  Sometimes they find other places they like.”
Ginger started to ask why Minnie hadn’t warned her and Greg, but it dawned on her that the agent had indeed told them the house was haunted.  Of course, Ginger and Greg laughed it off.
Greg left the house at 11:00 PM to go to work.
He tucked Patty in earlier, with assurances that all was okay. At 11:30, Ginger went to the bathroom and took a hot shower.  The alarm clock said just past midnight when she went to her room. 
She had pushed the events of the night before from her mind, but the words of Minnie still nagged her.  Ghosts are strongest from midnight to 2:00 AM, she had said.  Ginger looked at her clock; it was already 12:30.  She chuckled aloud.  “I can’t believe I’m even thinking like this.  I should never have visited that woman.”
She was lying in bed reading a magazine when she felt a presence in the room.  As the night before, the lights   flickered and then went out, leaving the room dimly illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window. The room grew icy cold.
She felt a tug on her covers, but this time they were yanked violently from her bed.  She gasped in horror as a dark figure  materialized at the foot of her bed.  She whimpered as she gazed at the apparition.  “No...please go away.”
Raspy laughter came from the figure, and then in whispered tones,  “All right then.  I will leave you.”  It vanished as the light flickered on again.
Seconds later, she heard Sparky’s barking and Patty’s screams.  Forgetting her own fear, she ran to Patty’s room.
“Mommy...Mommy, it came back!”  Patty was sobbing and shivering.  She clung tightly to Ginger.  “This time it talked to me,” she said between sobs, “It said it was going to get me.  Mommy, I’m afraid.”
Get up, Sweet, and don’t worry about dressing.  We’re leaving this house...now.   She took Patty’s hand and started for the door, Sparky following.
But when she tried to open the door, it jammed.  She pulled with all her might, but the door was stuck tight.  Sparky started growling, and Ginger felt the presence again.
“I will not let you leave,”  the ghost whispered in its raspy voice.
Patty started crying.  “Shhh.  Don’t worry Sweet, we will be all right.”  She led Patty back to the bed and tucked her under the covers.  Abruptly, the lights began to flicker on and off, and continued for several minutes before going out.
It grew quiet for a while, and Ginger hoped the ghost had left them.  Then Sparky started barking again.  There was a thudding sound.  Sparky yelped loudly and then was silent.  The lights came on again, and Ginger spotted Sparky lying in the corner.  Ginger rushed to the little dog, picked him up, and carried him to the bed.  A few specks of blood were on the dog’s muzzle, but he was breathing.
Ginger tried the door again; it was still jammed.  Escaping through the window was out of the question.  It was at least a twenty foot drop to the ground.  She spun around as Patty screamed.  Patty was suspended in midair, about a foot above the bed.
Ginger ran to her child, but before she could reach her, a violent force pushed her back and held her against the wall.   She could only watch as the window opened and Patty started floating toward the opening.
Ginger was frantic.  “No, no!  Please!  Why are you doing this?  What do you want of us?” 
Abruptly she was released from the hold and Patty dropped to the floor.  She rushed to Patty.  The child was crying, but was able walk after Ginger helped her up.  She appeared to be unhurt.  Sparky, too, appeared to be OK, as he jumped to the floor and came to join them. 
Ginger glanced at the clock.  It was 2:05 AM.  Apparently Jess’s ghost had weakened.  Ginger’s fear changed to anger, and she began to think of a way to deal with Jess.  She thought of the way the small man at the plant had made Jess back down.  Why couldn’t she bluff Jess’s ghost?  She could lose nothing by trying.
“Jess, I know that you’re still here.  I can feel your presence.  Now I want you to know something.  I have consulted a mystic, and I’ve studied spirits in the library.  I know how to deal with you.
“Did you know that a vampire can be killed with a stake through the heart?  The same thing will work against you, Jess.  I want you to leave this house.  I don’t care where you go--just leave.  If you don’t, tomorrow I will find a way to have your body exhumed.  I will personally drive a stake through your heart, and you will cease to exist.  If you don’t believe it, just try me!”
Every word of her threat was a bluff, but she was just angry enough to sound convincing. It was deathly quiet for a moment, then, in a high pitched, wavering voice, Jess answered.
“Nooo!  Please don’t!  Please let my body be.  I will go, and I promise you that you will never hear from me again.  I swear it.”
“Then go now.”  In that moment, Ginger no longer felt the presence--nor did she ever again.
She never told Greg.  She knew that Greg would never believe her story.  He wouldn’t laugh at her or deride her, but would simply dismiss it as a hallucination or some such.  Nor did she tell anyone else, with but one exception.  She did tell Minnie.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


It all started when my Grandpa McGee won the lottery. He won a cool fifty million dollars, and that was after taxes.  He was working as a house painter and was in his late fifties at the time.  On a whim, he bought a couple of lottery tickets at the convenience store where he buys gas,  but like many lottery winners, he now regrets buying those tickets.
Shortly after winning, Grandpa came down from  Jacksonville to Ocala to visit with us.  Me and my sister, Tracey, always looked forward to seeing Grandpa.  He was a short, but stocky man, ruddy faced with a thick head of graying hair, and a broom mustache under a hooked nose.   He always brought us goodies and presents when he came. 
Dad’s Brother, Uncle Bert, who lives near St. Augustine, came to our house at Grandpa’s request.  Uncle Bert, like Dad,  was a younger Grandpa, hooked nose, mustache and all.  Dad was two years older than Uncle Bert, but many thought they were twins.  Lately though, Dad was sporting a goatee, which set him apart.  We teased him and said he looked like Colonel Sanders, but he just laughed.
Grandpa presented both sons with generous checks, the reason he had called them together.  After a big lunch of chicken and dumplings, we all went into the living room for iced tea and coffee.
Dad shut off the TV as was his custom whenever we had company.  “I suppose you’ve got a few bucks left after giving me and Bert all that money,” said Dad, “so have you got any plans on what you’re gonna do with the rest of  your loot?”
Grandpa laughed.  “Yeah, I still got a coupla bucks, Jerry,”  he replied.  “Do you remember how I’ve always joked that if I won the lottery I’d buy up lots of beach front property and have those ugly stilt houses demolished?”
Uncle Bert almost spit out his coffee.  “Pop, If I know you, that’s just what you’re going to do.”
“Matter of fact, my lawyer’s already done it.  I now own about a quarter mile of beach front with 18 stilt houses sitting on it.  Some of the owners wasn’t too keen on selling, but I made offers they couldn’t turn down.”  He chuckled.  “One of them was almost ready to give his property away, though.  He already had his property up for sale.  After I bought it, he said he was glad, because he couldn’t live there. 
“I asked him why, and he claimed the place was haunted.  Some old man died in the house, and said in his will that he loved the place and wanted to be buried there.  Well, they ended up burying him in a cemetery, but it seems his angry ghost stays there and refuses to allow anyone else to stay there.”
My sister, Tracey, who is two years younger than me, giggled.  “Wow!  A real haunted house.”
“Yeah,” I said, “and Grandpa owns it.  Grandpa, can you take us to see it?”
“I’d sure like to, Eddie, but I’m kinda busy these days.  If I get a chance later,  I’ll take you and Tracey  up there  before the place is demolished.  That is if your mom and dad don’t mind.”
“Where’s the property located?”  Dad asked.
“North of St. Augustine, between Vilano Beach and South Ponte Vedra.  It’s  across Highway A1A and a little north of your house, Bert.”
Uncle Bert laughed and nudged Dad.  “Jeez, Jerry, remember how I used to be afraid of ghosts when I was as a kid?  Now I’ve got one just across the road from me.”
Dad looked at me.  “Eddie, when Bert was around twelve, about your age, he wouldn’t even go into a dark room by himself.”
“Bet you’re not afraid now,” I said.
“Right.  I outgrew it years ago.  As a matter of fact, I’d like to take you and Tracey to see the house.  That is if your mom and dad will let you stay a couple of days at my place.” 
Tracey’s  eyes widened and she ran to mom.  “Oh Mom, can we?  Can we please, Mom?”
Mom, who had just come into the room, let her ample figure down into her favorite easy chair.  She leaned back, pursed her lips, and her big violet eyes stared at the ceiling.  “Well...your dad and I will have to think on it.”
I knew then that we had a good chance.  I could tell by Mom’s expression and tone of voice that she was likely to approve.
Tracey and I had stayed a couple of days with Uncle Bert twice before and enjoyed it.  His wife died young and they never had a child.  He loved children and spoiled us while we were there, taking us to movies, carnivals, and lots of fun places.  Mom and Dad never worried, because they knew that Dad’s brother was a solid, dependable man.
Uncle Bert winked at her.  “Suzy, if it’s the ghost you’re thinking about, don’t worry.  Ol’ Uncle Bert will protect them from the wicked old man.”
Mom’s eyes wrinkled as she laughed, filling the room with her high pitched cackles.  “I don’t doubt you will, Bert.”
“Hon, it’s all right with me,” said Dad.  “The kids will enjoy a few days away from the house.” 
Uncle Bert arranged to get a few days off from his job and picked us up two days later.
###
We arrived at Uncle’s house A little after noon.  We weren’t hungry since we’d stopped at a McDonald’s on the way.  Uncle Bert’s place was a frame house in a sparsely populated neighborhood, in an area surrounded by palmettos and dotted with sea oaks and cabbage palms. 
We’d no sooner pulled into the driveway than Tracey started begging to go see the haunted house.  Uncle  promised he’d take us as soon as we rested up and had Pepsis.
###
Uncle drove across A1A and went down an access ramp onto the beach.  He left the car at the ramp and we walked up the beach about two hundred yards to get to the house.  Uncle Bert looked at the stilt houses dotting the beach off to our left. 
“That’s what your grandpa hates,” he said.  ”He’s convinced that after those houses are demolished and removed, the dunes will come back and the beach will regain its natural beauty.  It’s only a small part of the beach, but it helps.”
We arrived at the haunted house.  Tracey and I were a little disappointed, expecting a big gloomy place.  It was just a stilt house much like the others along the beach. 
We climbed a flight of wooden steps to reach a covered veranda surrounding the house. Uncle Bert tested the door and it opened.  Tracey hesitated.  “Is there really a ghost in there?”
Uncle Bert chuckled, but it wasn’t a derisive laugh. “To tell you the truth, Tracey, there’s no such thing as ghosts.  But the fun of going into a haunted house is to get those chills and thrills thinking about the possibility of facing a real ghost, while at the same time knowing there’s no such thing.  It’s kinda like seeing a scary movie.”
“But suppose there is one inside?”
“Hey, I promised your mom I’d protect you from the ghost, and everybody knows that I always keep my promises. So let’s go on in, have a look, and then we’ll go back.”  He laughed.  “Maybe we can see something scary on TV tonight.”
Tracy giggled.  “OK Uncle, I wasn’t really afraid.”
Uncle Bert entered and we followed.  I saw Tracey shiver as we entered, and I’ll admit to having a few goose bumps, too.
The house was divided into two rooms.  A large picture window facing the ocean made the small front room look more spacious.  The front room was a combined kitchen, living, and dining room. The smaller back room was a bedroom with an enclosed bathroom in one corner.
There was still some furniture in the house.  A wicker basket filled with knick knacks rested on a small table.  Uncle Bert reached into the basket to pick up one of the items, but suddenly yelped and drew his hand back.  I saw a shiny black spider crawling across the table.  I picked up an old magazine lying on the table and smashed it.
“Good Lord, that’s a Black Widow and it bit me.”  Uncle Bert staggered to a couch and fell on it, gasping.  “I’m  allergic to insect and spider venom, and I’m having a reaction to the bite,” he said.  “Eddie, I want you to run back to the car and get the little red box from the trunk.  It’s my allergy kit.  Bring the cell phone, too, in case we need to call 911.  It’s in the space between the front seats.”  He handed me the car keys.
Tracey, sobbing,  ran to the couch and grasped Uncle’s hand.  “I’ll watch Uncle while you’re gone,” she said.
I ran to the door, but was shocked when a figure appeared in the doorway to block my exit.  I gasped and stepped back.  It was an old man.  He was tall and skinny, and his gaunt face was almost snow white.  He looked at me with piercing black eyes.
As I was staring at him, he became a wispy fog and then vanished. I yelled and ran back into the room.  “Uncle, it’s the ghost!” I was shaking and barely able to speak.
“Eddie, you’re seeing things,” he said calmly.  “Please just run and get the kit.  Hurry, every second counts.”
I knew that Uncle Bert needed the kit fast, so I turned and again ran to the door.  This time something stopped me.  It was as if an invisible net was stretched over the door. I bounced back and fell on the floor, and this time Uncle Bert was watching. 
“It stopped me,” I cried.  It...”
“Eddie, you tripped and fell.  I want you to hurry, but don’t panic.  Go carefully out the door and down the steps, then hurry.”
“I’ll go with him,” Tracy said.  She ran to the door, and the gaunt figure appeared in the doorway again.  She screamed and ran back to Uncle Bert, who had also seen it this time. Once again, it vanished.
Uncle Bert struggled to sit up on the couch.  “Whatever, whoever you are, leave us alone.  We will leave you if you will let us.”  He struggled to stand up.  “Eddie, Tracey, come here and help me.”
He grasped our shoulders and managed to pull himself up.  We made it to the door, but once again the ghostly thing appeared.  Uncle’s voice was weakening.  “Please...let us go.”
It spoke in a high pitched, wavering voice.  “They want to destroy my house.” 
It vanished again, and when we tried to leave, the invisible net was there.  Uncle was wobbly, and we managed to get him back to the sofa.  I noticed that his face was swelling and he was wet with sweat.
“I think it means to keep us as hostages or something,” He said. 
Tracey started crying.  Uncle pulled her to him and tried to console her.  “It’s gonna be all right, Tracey.”  He started coughing.  His hands and face were turning a dark blue color.
I was scared, but I walked to the door and faced it.  “Please let us go,” I said.  “My uncle might die.”  I felt myself being picked up, and I was hurled back into the room.  Tracey started crying louder, and the apparition entered the room and stood before her.  She screamed.
Uncle raised himself and sat up.  He looked angry.  “Leave the kids alone.”  But he collapsed back onto the couch.  I saw that his arm was swollen, and his face was swelling larger.  His breathing was coming in short gasps now.
The old man’s spirit stayed in the room.  It began a maniacal laughter as both Tracey and I rose into the air.  She had stopped screaming and was whimpering now.  “Please,” I begged, “let us go.” 
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Uncle Bert appeared, now appearing strong and healthy.  He faced the old man, who started retreating.  “Go,” said Uncle, “go where you belong.”
Tracey and I were eased to the floor.  Uncle kept advancing, and the old man retreated through the door with Uncle following. 
As Uncle went through the door, he turned and smiled at us.  “You’re safe now.  Go back to the house and call for help.  And don't worry about me; I'm OK.”  With that, Uncle Bert became a misty apparition and then vanished.  Tracey and I did not have to look.  We both knew that Uncle Bert was dead. But he had kept his word.  He protected us.
I took her hand and led her out the door.  Though Uncle had assured us he would be alright, we were both sobbing as we set out for the  house.