The Ghost Chronicles Part 18

She smiled, and it looked genuine enough. "Sure," she replied, as she put another CD in the player.

She began to move in sync with the music. In one quick motion she flipped herself upside down, wrapped her legs around the pole, and spun like a corkscrew to the floor.

Jeff and Rob started their experiment, dropping bits of dust in front of the lens, in an attempt to "debunk" the light anomalies on the video.

Wendy completed her dance routine. Curious as to the results of Jeff and Rob's experiment we hurried over to take a look. Ron and I waited as Jeff rewound the camcorder, and then replayed it for us. Jeff glanced at a sheet of paper where he'd written down the exact timing of each anomaly and when they occurred, then stopped at the first sequence of numbers. "Here, you see this." He pointed to the LCD screen. "It's a little difficult to see, but we were able to reproduce an orb similar to what Wendy got on her video."

Ron and I took another step closer to the video recorder. "You may have been able to recreate the orb, but no way is it reacting the same way as they did in Wendy's video." Ron looked at Jeff again, and continued. "You think? I mean, in Wendy's video the light anomalies cascaded around the pole."

Jeff thumbed through the remaining sequence of numbers that he'd noted earlier, and when done he said, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, we proved that dust can make the same orbs, but they are definitely not moving in the same manner."

Moments later, Jeff and Rob began to check on the results of the particle-measuring devices that they had previously set up.

Suddenly the air shifted, the atmosphere thickened. It was almost touchable, electrified. "Ah, Ron, I think someone's joining us."

Ron looked at his silent EMF meter. "Really? Well, I'm not getting anything," he said as he stuffed the meter in the front pocket of his Dockers, went over to one of the poles and started spinning around it, mimicking Wendy's moves.

I began to pick up on s.e.xual energy that was not my own. Ewwww, there was a spirit becoming attracted to Ron. "Ah, someone likes you," I said.

He smiled.

"But it's a man," I said as Ron's smile faded away to near panic.

Just then, in mid-twirl on the pole, the EMF meter went off in his pants' pocket. Through the pale fabric, the constant red glow of the EMF meter told the story.

"Is that a ghost you're picking up on, or are you just happy to see me?" I laughed out loud.

As I struggled to control my laughter, I said, "I caught a glimpse of a tall black man with a funny hat. He's telling me he likes to come to the studio to listen to the music and watch Wendy dance."

"Like a pimp?" Ron asked.

"No, more like a transvest.i.te." The second I said "transvest.i.te," the intensity of the energy escalated, growing stronger and stronger by the minute, as if the spirit knew I'd recognized he was there. My third eye vibrated. Pulsated.

"Can you channel him?" Ron asked.

"Give me a minute." I closed my eyes, blocking out my visual sense, and forced myself to concentrate on the black man who was rapidly approaching. In the quiet of my mind, I asked him to tell me what it was that he wanted.

He answered my question. A visual of Ron twirling around the pole stood in the forefront of my mind, and with it an overwhelming feeling of desire. "Gross! Sorry, Ron. No, no, no, no. No way. I have my limits." I shivered inwardly. Like the shaking of an Etch-a-Sketch, I struggled to erase my mind of the spirit's desires. "Ewww. Nothing personal, Ron, but he really likes you, if you know what I mean. And that, my friend, is more than I want to see."

Ron thought about that for a second, then said, "Okay if you don't want to channel him, let's try something else. How about doing a contact circle?" Ron asked.

"Well, as long as I don't have to channel him, I'm good with it."

Ron turned to Wendy, "Want to try it?"

"Sure, how's it work?"

"Okay let's all sit in a circle on the floor, hold hands, and try to make contact as a group." Now sitting, Ron said, "All right, Maureen, can you begin?"

Using the method I'd learned when I was sixteen to help get myself and others into a relaxed state, I counted down. I started from twenty-one, counting backward all the way down to one. Lastly, I lowered my voice and finished by counting us down through the colors of the rainbow, "Ten-red, six-yellow, five-blue, three-green..." I inhaled then exhaled, sensing that everyone was ready to make communication. I said, "If there is a spirit here, please give us a sign."

Over the whir of the camcorder the silence was deafening.

"If there are any spirits here please give us a sign of your presence," Ron's voice echoed my previous question.

Suddenly, there was a bang. It sounded like it was coming from the door directly behind us, in the adjacent room. Ron jumped to his feet, ran over to the door, and pushed it open. He quickly snapped a photo with his 35mm. "There's no one there," Ron said as he scrambled back to the circle.

"Ron, I'm really not feeling a presence anymore," I said.

Not ready to call it a night, he said, "Come on, Wendy, Maureen, let's go into the other room where we heard the bang and see if we can use your pendulum there to get some questions answered."

Reluctantly I followed Ron and Wendy into her side parlor, a place where people could take a respite on soft cushiony chairs while others danced. We dragged three chairs over the black and white linoleum and small scatter rugs and placed them in a small circle. As we sat in the dark, once again the door made the same noise as before.

Jeff, having heard the noise at the same time we did, closed the distance between us and the other room. He commented, "Hey guys, I think that sound may be coming from the heating system."

"That makes sense. We've seen similar phenomenon on other investigations, and on some occasions it turned out to be a vacuum or the heat turning on," Ron said, flipping the on switch to his EMF meter.

I held my pendulum tightly between my thumb and forefinger as we asked questions of the spirit. Nothing. "I don't think he's here either."

In an attempt to liven up the moment, Wendy jumped to her feet, "Hey would you guys like to see a trick?"

"A trick?" I said, almost afraid to ask.

Like flies to flypaper, the second the guys heard the word "trick" they dropped what they were doing and rushed to her side. I wanted to laugh. I don't think I would have gotten this type of reaction from them if I'd just yelled "Fire!"

"We're men of science." Ron's grin widened again, and this time I thought his face would crack. "Inquiring minds want to know."

Wendy took a crisp twenty-dollar bill out of her pocketbook, and then turned to her mesmerized audience. "Now watch," she commanded. She folded the bill lengthwise and placed it on the chair. "Without the use of my hands I will pick up this twenty-dollar bill," she said. Turning her back to the chair, she glanced over her shoulder as if calculating her stance. Wendy adjusted her miniskirt. In one quick motion she sat down on the chair, and bounced back up.

"What's the trick?" Ron asked.

She smiled. "This," she said, as she reached her right hand between her b.u.t.t cheeks and pulled out the twenty-dollar bill. She waved it in the air, like an honor guard raising a flag in a parade.

She walked over to me. "Maureen, would you like to try it?" Without waiting for an answer, she said, "Look, I'll even make it sanitary." Wendy took the twenty-dollar bill, unfolded it, then folded it in the opposite direction. "There, now it's all ready for you."

I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. "No, that's okay..."

Jeff, not one to refuse a challenge, jumped at the chance. Within seconds he was standing with his back to the chair. "So what do I do?"

Wendy let out a hearty laugh. "When you feel your b.u.m hit the chair, squeeze your cheeks together."

Jeff sat down, then stood up. The folded bill remained on the chair.

"One more try," Jeff said, as he took the plunge yet again. "Wahoo!" He screeched as he reached his hand behind and plucked the twenty-dollar bill out of the seam in his jeans.

We all started clapping.

Jeff, addressing the smiling onlookers, said, "It's always good to learn a new skill; that gives me something to fall back on in bad economic times."

Laughter filled the studio as we began to pack our equipment.

Although I'd felt a little embarra.s.sed during the show, Wendy was a genuinely nice, fun-loving person, and I found myself feeling way more comfortable as we made our way out the door than when we'd first arrived.

"Maureen, do not open your car yet!" Ron said as he circled my Audi, blessing the windows with holy water. Then, after spraying a healthy portion of "special blend" over himself, he said, "Okay, I think I'm good."

"I'd say. That's a little overkill, isn't it?"

"Let's just say that our friend the transvest.i.te is one hitchhiker I don't want following me home."

I couldn't help it-just hearing him say it made me throw back my head and laugh.

RESULTS OF THE INVESTIGATION.

We've had a lot of interesting cases in the past, but never a case like this. There were surprises at every turn, or should we say "twirl." Wendy the pole dancer, we later found out, auth.o.r.ed two books: Pole Dancing for Dummies Pole Dancing for Dummies and, much to our surprise, and, much to our surprise, The Deaths of The Popes The Deaths of The Popes. Jeff and Rob were able to reproduce similar light anomalies, but could not reproduce the movement that was seen in Wendy's video. We concluded that Wendy's studio was in fact haunted. The twist came when Maureen sensed the spirit of a black transvest.i.te, who was more infatuated with Ron than Wendy. Since this investigation, Wendy has moved, and to her delight, it appears the spirit has followed her.

episode fifteen

THE LIZZIE BORDEN HOUSE.

CASE FILE: 6321947.

THE LIZZIE BORDEN HOUSE.

Location: Fall River, Ma.s.sachusetts.History: On August 4, 1892, Mr. and Mrs. Borden were murdered with an axe. Lizzie Borden, their daughter, was accused of being the murderess. However, Lizzie was put on trial and acquitted of all crimes.Reported Paranormal Activity: Impressions in the beds, guests who have reported being touched, orbs and mists in photographs, unexplained noises, and voices of the dead (EVP).Clients: Lee Ann (the owner), Emily (tour guide).Investigators: Ron (lead investigator), Maureen (trance medium), Laura (photographer), Ron Jr. (investigator), Jim (EVP specialist), Gavin (Welsh psychic), Martin (Gavin's manager), Byron (UK investigator from the ghosthunting group, Haunted Devon), Pippa (BBC correspondent).

Lizzie Borden took an axeAnd gave her mother forty whacks.And when she saw what she had doneShe gave her father forty-one.~Author Unknown I did my best to push the popular Lizzie Borden rhyme to the furthest recesses of my mind. It made me nervous, although I knew the rhyme was an over-dramatization of the actual events of August 4, 1892. I distracted myself by chatting with Gavin Cromwell, a psychic visiting from Wales who was accompanying us to Fall River. With foreign guests in town, Ron called Lee Ann, the owner of the Lizzie Borden House and a former guest on did my best to push the popular Lizzie Borden rhyme to the furthest recesses of my mind. It made me nervous, although I knew the rhyme was an over-dramatization of the actual events of August 4, 1892. I distracted myself by chatting with Gavin Cromwell, a psychic visiting from Wales who was accompanying us to Fall River. With foreign guests in town, Ron called Lee Ann, the owner of the Lizzie Borden House and a former guest on Ghost Chronicles Ghost Chronicles, to see if we could host a UK/US investigation of one of America's most haunted sites.

"I sense there was a large shed or barn in this exact spot," Gavin said as I slid the car into a parking s.p.a.ce behind the Lizzie Borden Bed and Breakfast, which was now closed for repairs.

The infamous Lizzie Borden House in Fall River, Ma.s.sachusetts Unlike Gavin, the only sense I was getting was one of foreboding. No matter how many investigations I've been on, I am never sure what we will encounter. Unsure how to answer him, I remained quiet as we made our way to the small brown clapboard building to our left.

"Good evening, everyone, I'm Lee Ann. So glad you all could make it."

Over the clamor of voices I heard bits of Ron's introduction of Gavin to the host. "He's a psychic visiting us from Wales."

I gazed around at the shelves piled with Lizzie Borden paraphernalia: various sizes of stained-gla.s.s ornaments in the shape of hatchets, Lizzie Borden hatchet earrings, baseball hats and T-shirts with macabre sayings, bobbleheads, water with a Lizzie label, and other items too numerous to even mention.

Lee Ann pulled out a small bottle with what appeared to be sand in it. "Our new hottest seller: authentic brick dust. It's collected from the decaying bricks of the haunted bas.e.m.e.nt of the Borden home." She held out her hands like Vanna White displaying a letter. "Look, we tag each one with a stamp of authenticity. Not only that, but the proceeds benefit the renovation of the property." She grinned as she placed the bottle in Gavin's hands then, covering his hands with her own, she gently squeezed her hand closed. "Tell me. What do you feel?"

"Oh my G.o.d," Gavin said in his thick Welsh accent. "It's very powerful, isn't it?" He placed his free hand to his temple and closed his eyes. "Well, I never." Eyes still closed, he gently shook his head from side to side. "My goodness, the bas.e.m.e.nt is a very scary place."

Lee Ann's eyes sparkled. "It is a very scary place. But I won't give anything away." She raised her head and looked around the room, then looked back at Gavin. "I can't wait until you've finished with your investigation. I so look forward to hearing what you pick up."

I took my place behind Gavin as we began the investigation. That way I had an opportunity to compare another psychic/ medium's impressions to my own. My own little experiment.

Not more than two steps into the hallway of the house, I felt an overwhelming sense of evil oozing out of what I presumed to be the bas.e.m.e.nt. As if Gavin and I were connected by an ethereal string, we reacted in unison, sidestepping the open door to our right. I took a series of short, shallow breaths as I tried to relieve the pressure of what felt like a hundred-pound weight upon my chest. Hoping to escape the sudden onslaught of discomfort, we hurried into the kitchen.

"Wow, Maureen, did you feel that?"

"Yeah. That was horrendous. My chest is still killing me." Then I felt something else. "Gavin, are you getting anything here? I'm feeling the presence of a woman."

He began to stumble around the kitchen, moving back and forth with his fingers to his forehead. "I'm getting the name Abby."

As Gavin spoke of Abby, sending out a cosmic calling card, my third eye began to throb. I looked at Gavin and thought of our drive over. He'd told me that he owned a Lizzie Borden doll that he was fascinated with. Without being certain of how much prior knowledge of the gruesome murders Gavin had, I held my tongue. As for me, growing up in Ma.s.sachusetts I'd have been hard-pressed not to hear the tales. Rather than compromise the investigation with names that I already knew, I decided to keep them to myself. What I didn't know, however, was where in the house the crimes were committed.

With my thoughts and the pressure in my forehead spiraling out of control, enveloping my whole face, I began to feel as if I were wearing a mask, looking through eyes that were not my own. A sudden onset of emotions coursed through my body, burning me to the core: anger, hatred, repulsion. Over the sound of blood pumping in my own ears I vaguely heard Ron's voice as I struggled for control.

"Gavin, what's the problem?" Ron said as he entered the room.

"I don't know. Look at her. She's..."

Ron interrupted, closing the gap between him and me. "Maureen. Now's not the time." We weren't ready for me to trance channel-we weren't even set up yet.

The anger within me growing, my head raised slowly of its own accord, staring through the mask into Ron's eyes. "Leave me alone!" I said, barely conscious. The words gurgled, torn from my throat.

I felt Ron's hand on my shoulder. Sickened by his touch, I jerked away. "Don't-touch-me." My anger festered like a pus-filled wound.

"Maureen." Ron pushed forward.

Once again repelled by his touch, I stumbled backwards. A sharp pain seared my lower back as I collided with the potbellied stove. My hand frantically searched for the hatchet I'd seen earlier, nestled in the basket on the floor. One part of me wanted to drive it into his skull, while the other part of me struggled for control. "Ron, get away from me!" I bellowed, clenching my fists, "Get away. I just want to kill you right now."

Ron took a step backwards, while Gavin and Martin, Gavin's manager, quickly retreated to the far corner of the kitchen. Bending at the waist, I squeezed my eyes shut, struggling to control the urges that possessed my emotions. Reclaiming my soul, I mustered my free will, and with a mental shove, I evicted the vile presence invading my body. I looked up at Ron once again, this time through my own eyes, no longer through a mask.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. Sort of."

"Why don't we take Maureen out to get some air?" Martin said.

He gingerly approached me, taking me by the elbow and ushering me back through the short hallway and out the side door. Gavin followed.

A burst of cool air hit me in the face as we exited the building, a refreshing relief to my labored lungs. After a few deep intakes of breath, my body slowly regained strength. I'd only been here a short time, and I had already experienced far more than I really wanted to.

Martin slowly approached me and said, "Maureen, are you okay? You scared the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l out of us."

I turned and caught the wide-eyed stares of Gavin and Martin, "The cool air is helping a lot. Thanks."

Gavin, feeling less nervous, joined in the conversation. "That was actually quite disturbing, Maureen, to see you like that. There wasn't any warning at all; it hit you like a ton of bricks. You just fell into a trance, taking on the energies. I'm beginning to understand what's happening here. The energy is so thick. It's not good, not at all."

We heard Ron's voice through the door. "I guess we ought to go back in," he said.