I Swore I'd Never Return

I swore I'd never come back here again. Yet the draw was too great, I needed to make sure that Mr. Lindsay made it back to the haunted hotel okay. I know how he got to my house, when we went to visit the hotel he jumped in the car and headed home with us. There he played many pranks and caused lots of trouble. Grab a beverage of your choice, sit down and let me tell you a story: I located a book called, “Haunted Michigan” and one at a time my husband and I were visiting these hotels and bed and breakfasts in search of paranormal activity. The first place was a dud, the only abnormal thing about that was the smell of rotten eggs from a well buried hundreds of feet underground. Then we happened upon Mr. Lindsay’s hotel. According to reports Mr. Lindsay was quite the lady’s man. He often kept several mistresses as well as a wife. Mr. Lindsay took great pride in his hotel in a quaint little town in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. As we approached the hotel it seemed more like a castle than a hotel. Victorian in style it seemed to take up an entire block of the small town. We were checking in and I asked the clerk if the place is haunted as I spied Victorian style furniture all around, including the chandeliers. “I’ve worked here eight years and I have never had an encounter, but I guess it all depends on what you believe,” was the gentleman’s non-committed response. I was not thrilled to hear his response as we had driven a long way to find some paranormal activity, and this gentleman wasn’t very encouraging. Slowly we turned from the desk and stepped into the elevator to find our room. As we exited the elevator on the second floor we were shocked to find a narrow hallway with carpeting that seemed a replica of early 1900s design. The hallway had an eerie feeling, as if one were being watched. I was certain someone was there, so I invited Mr. Lindsay into our room. Immediately I started a digital recorder and began speaking to Mr. Lindsay. There was nothing to report from this hotel, and as we settled in to sleep for the night I was rather disappointed in our amateur version of ghost hunting. Turning off the lights my husband and I quietly whispered our good nights and snuggled in. That is when the activity began. Something touched my butt as if to push me aside, like he or she were saying, “Move over, make room for me.” Excited at the prospect I told my husband, a down-right non-believer. “Well, they did say he enjoyed his women,” was my husband’s only response as he rolled over to sleep. Snuggling closer to my husband I whispered to the night, “There is one rule here, please don’t touch me, that will scare me, but you may talk to me if you wish. I am recording so I will hear whatever you have to say.” There was no response, and by morning I was not satisfied with our results, I said as much to my husband. Who laughed at me and my need to discover ghosts. Feeling hurt I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and the fun began again. I turned the water on and as I watched the faucet turned completely off. “That was awesome,” I shouted, “Hun, come check this out!” My husband walked in and I turned the water on again, though this time it didn’t completely shut off I did watch as the handle turned and the pressure lessened. Now, my darling husband still didn’t believe, ever the skeptic. As we packed our things to head home I invited Mr. Lindsay to hop in the backseat of the car and come home with us. Now, my husband, Mr. Skeptic took on a worried tone, “The professionals say never to do that!” “If there is no such thing as ghosts then there is nothing to worry about,” I said. So we began our trip home, which was quite uneventful. Once we arrived at home things went a bit crazy, the children began misplacing objects they were certain they had put away. Later they would find it in another room and fights would ensue because each child was certain another was taking their things. After about two weeks of this craziness my husband misplaced a small spring in the garage. He cleared off his work bench twice and on the third clearing of the bench he discovered the spring right where he had placed it to begin with. This infuriated him and he loudly told Mr. Lindsay he and the children had enough of his shenanigans and he was no longer welcome in our home. That was the last incident, and now I’m back in the Upper Peninsula to be sure that Mr. Lindsay made it home safely. Judging from the tug of my hair he has returned and all is well. Thank you, Mr. Lindsay for letting me know you’re here and everything is okay.