A Ghost Story...

Mark and I stayed at an historic Bed & Breakfast in Rugby, TN whilst on vacation. We chose Rugby as our base because (1) we had passed through the town a few weeks before and discovered an AMAZING swimming hole, (2) I have a thing for historic homes, (3) the notion of no Internet access, cell-phone signals, televisions, or anything else remotely hi-tech sounded appealing, and (4) after 3 hours of searching for lodging in Big South Fork National Park yielded me exactly -nothing-, I decided it would be easier than wasting another minute of my life.

I had heard of Rugby before our little adventure with the kids a few weeks back. When we arrived at the visitor center, Forrest kept mentioning zombies. I chalked this up to (a) him being a male and therefore interested in all things creepy and (b) that he can be annoying like that. Although, in his defense, the area surrounding the building was a bit surreal. We had to walk through a small wooded lot to get to the entrance, there was a nary a soul to be seen and the little village looked frozen in time.

As I searched and searched for a place for us to rest our heads, Forrest sat across the room from me reading a book. Every now and then (usually as I muttered a less-than-lady-like word) he would offer up a word of encouragement..."have you tried searching hotel-big-south-fork"? To which I would reply "No Forrest, that combination never entered my mind, thank you for reminding why we pay the big bucks for your education". This at the two-hour thirty-five-minute mark of my search.

As I shut my computer down a few minutes later he asked if I had found anything. I replied that yes, I had booked the B&B in Rugby and that it would have to do because I was OVER searching. He says"You should call aunt Lottie (name has been changed to protect her identity) and ask her about that place".

I froze.

"Why"? I asked. But truth be told, I didn't need to ask him "why". Whatever little wisp of fog had been covering the memory of how I had become acquainted with Rugby in the first place began lifting the moment Forrest mentioned my aunt Lottie.

"To see if there are any ghosts" was his reply.

My aunt Lottie, well...how should I put this...well, she is in tune with the supernatural...and no, I don't mean the Jesus supernatural. I mean the traveling around the country, staying at haunted inns, getting in touch with the other side supernatural.

A few years ago she had mentioned that she and her husband loved visiting historic Rugby...the food at the Cafe, the restored Victorian cottages, the charming perfectly preserved library and the haunted lodging. I somehow retained all details except for that last little bit.

My voice may or may not have gone up an octave and I may or may not have shrieked at my favourite son "WHY DIDN'T YOU REMIND ME OF THAT BEFORE"???

"I did" he says...with an uplifted eyebrow and the beginning of a little smirk on his lips.

"No. You didn't". I snap back. (At which point I may or may not have taken a moment to think "how did that kid get so stinkin' cute, his smirk is adorable"). Ummm...where was I???

"Yes. I did. Remember, I kept telling you that there were Zombies in the woods. What did you think I was talking about? You think I just like to talk about zombies? I'm 15 mom, not 10".

He had a point.

It was entirely too late to cancel our reservation. I had booked the room on a last minute deal and canceling was out of the question. So, I called aunt Lottie to find out exactly what I had signed us up for. (Not that I actually believe in ghosts or anything).

After a 15 minute conversation in which I was versed in all of the best spots to see "spirits", the bet way to view "orbs" in the cemetery, which ghost was which and why it haunted that particular spot...I chalked it all up to nonsensicalness and promptly forgot about the whole ordeal.

Fast forward two weeks. We are checked into our suite in the B&B. The B&B is gorgeous and I want to build a house exactly like it.

Because I still have insomnia issues I took a ginormous swig of Nyquil before climbing into the antique double bed. Because I have dry eyes and the air conditioning was irritating my condition further, I removed my contacts. Because there was no night stand on my side of the bed, I passed my glasses to Mark who set them on the table on his side. Because I am courteous, I did not wake Mark and ask him to hand me my glasses when I awoke in the night and needed to use the facilities. Because my husband does not get out in the sun very often, he does not have a tan...in fact, he is quite white. Because my son and aunt filled my head with tales of Casper the ghost the following happened.

When I returned to the room in my drugged-blind-bat state, I saw a big white blob hovering on the other side of the bed! I jumped three feet into the air and cried "Jesus". Which caused the white blob to jump three feet in response! The blob then spoke "Good grief Destry! What is wrong with you???"

Lucky for Casper..er, Mark my gun was on the mantle far across the room. By the way, can you actually shoot a ghost?