Mm'kay, this is the story Oscar, from Haunted Heartland! ^_^ Good story... Please excuse any spelling errors... I don't want to go back and read it when I'm done.
Oscar
The kids in Oscar's Evansville neighborhood knew him as a friendly, outgoing nineteen-year-old who took delight in giving them rides in his shiny new car, circa 1922. They would pile in, eager to careen over the dusty roads around the city. Late in the evening Oscar would brin them back to his house, and calling goodnight, they would scatter to their own respective dwellings.
The routine didn't vary on that one evening in the early 1920s when everyone waved as Oscar went into his house. They never saw him again. His parents found him dead in bed the next morning. The cause of death is not known.
Oscar's ghost may still linger in Evansville, attached now to a family that moved into Oscar's old home years after his death. At least that's what Warren and Gladys Reynolds think. They have been the targets of Oscar's friendly antics for over forty years, if that is indeed the explanation for all the strange occurrences the Reynolds have witnessed.
The house where Oscar lived and died and where the Reynolds first met his spirit is gone now. The lot is occupied by part of the Doctor's Plaza, a medical clinic. But back in 1942, Gladys and Warren Reynolds, a young married couple, lived there.
"At first I thought they were ordinary noises," soft-spoken Gladys Reynolds remembers. "But my husband thought from the beginning that something peculiar was going on. He always seemed to have the most experiences. I worked during the days, and he was on the night shift as a deputy sheriff. Oscar seemed to be around more during the day when my husband was at home."
The Reynolds's first indication that Oscar was still in "his" house came during a thunderstorm. The family was in a downstairs room. Footsteps suddenly pouded across an upstairs hallway. What followed sounded like windows being shut in the bedrooms. Sure enough, when the family checked upstairs, each window that had been open was now firmly closed against the brewing storm.
On another day, the couple's twelve-year-old daughter was home alone finishing some homework in the dining room. She heard someone coming down the staircase. The little girl was so frightened she hid under the big round table. The descending footsteps stopped abruptly on the last step. Peering out, the child could see she was quite alone.
Oscar was very shy. On only two occasions did he allow himself to be glimpsed. The witness in both cases was Warren Reynolds's mother. She lived with her son and daughter-in-law for several years before her death.
The senior Mrs. Reynolds occupied the same bedroom in which Oscar was reputed to have died. The first time she saw Oscar was quite late at night, when a sharp sound forced her awake. She looked around the room. There was Oscar standing with his back to her, bending over a grate in the fireplace. Hoping the specter would disappear, the old woman pulled the blankets over her head. A few moments later she peeked out. The shadowy stranger was still there. Oscar finally melted into the darkness.
Oscar's second visit to his old bedroom was quite a bit shorter, and again at night. He was standing quite still next to a potted plant, with his back toward Mrs. Reynolds, who had again been awakened from a sound sleep. And as before, after a few seconds, he seemed to melt away.
Oscar frequented his bedroom often. He seemed to prefer the cane-bottomed rocker, for the family would hear its familiar creaking back and forth for minutes on end. Each time they investigated, however, the chair was absolutely still and no one was in the room.
Gladys Reynolds recalled that Oscar also liked to prowl about the partially-finished attic. "My husband heard someone up there one afternoon. He thought some kids had broken in through the window. Well, since he was a deputy sheriff he took out his revolver and headed up the stairs. But when he got there, he couldn't find anything. All the windows were locked and nothing had been disturbed. From what he heard, he was convinced someone had been walking around up there."
An incident in 1948 involved a woman friend of Mrs. Reynolds who came to visit for several days. Late the first evening, after her friend had retired, Mrs. Reynolds heard drawers opening and closing upstairs, footsteps moving across the floorboards and doors slamming. Surprised at the activity, she thought perhaps her friend was preparing to leave early in the morning. That notion was dispelled at breakfast when her friend assured her she was indeed staying and had slept soundly through the night. She emphatically denied being the source of the nocturnal activity.
The Reynolds family moved out of Oscar's house in 1965. It was subsequently torn down to make way for the medical facility.
Oscar, however, may have been so taken with the Reynolds family that he moved with them into their next home! Sometimes they hear faint footsteps or the creaking of the rocking chair Oscar fancied.
In the new house, Gladys Reynolds says there have been two occasions when objects have mysteriously disappeared, only to be found later in places the family had thoroughly searched.
"When I couldn't find my make-up compact in its usual drawer," Gladys Reynolds says, "I thought my granddaughter had taken it to play with. I didn't want to say anything to my daughter; I didn't want her to spank the child. I looked everywhere and after a few days I just gave up. My daughter and her family left and I still couldn't find the compact. Well, one day I opened a cabinet and there it was right in front of my eyes. I had looked there and would certainly have seen it if it had been there earlier."
Mrs. Reynolds attributes such incidents to pranks pulled by Oscar. After forty years of his antics, the Reynolds treat him like one of the family. They don't fear him and, indeed, respond to his now infrequent visits with a matter-of-factness characteristic of people who have accepted what is sometimes so hard for others to believe.
"I never did believe in ghosts either," Mrs. Reynolds emphasizes with a laugh. "But I know what I heard, what my husband believes, and what my mother-in-law saw. I can't explain it, but all those things did happen."
Do they want Oscar to reveal his presence more often? Mrs. Reynolds thinks probably not. "We always have the *feeling* Oscar is in the house," she affirms. And that seems to be enough for the Reynolds family and their old friend.
*~*~*~*
Yay! There's Oscar... BTW, I don't own Oscar, I just own the book.
*grins* It's Halloween and I'm kinda in my costume right now... I have a hoof print on my face... But that's it because my costume involves mud, and my mother would kill me if I got mud all over the house. But I bet the hoof print looks funny ^__^ I couldn't think of anything for a costume, but my mom wouldn't let me stay home, so I had to come up with something within the week. I made my costume last night and I have a white pair of jeans and a white t-shirt and I took one of my vaulting horse's old shoes and dipped it in mud and put it on my clothes. So now I'm just someone who - as people at school said - got hit by a horse. lol! Ok, I'm done ranting now...
Oh, and keep checking to see what the sequel is called, cuz I'm gonna put it here. I'll let all of those I've been emailing when I update like that, so you guys don't have to worry about it.
JFN!
Oscar
The kids in Oscar's Evansville neighborhood knew him as a friendly, outgoing nineteen-year-old who took delight in giving them rides in his shiny new car, circa 1922. They would pile in, eager to careen over the dusty roads around the city. Late in the evening Oscar would brin them back to his house, and calling goodnight, they would scatter to their own respective dwellings.
The routine didn't vary on that one evening in the early 1920s when everyone waved as Oscar went into his house. They never saw him again. His parents found him dead in bed the next morning. The cause of death is not known.
Oscar's ghost may still linger in Evansville, attached now to a family that moved into Oscar's old home years after his death. At least that's what Warren and Gladys Reynolds think. They have been the targets of Oscar's friendly antics for over forty years, if that is indeed the explanation for all the strange occurrences the Reynolds have witnessed.
The house where Oscar lived and died and where the Reynolds first met his spirit is gone now. The lot is occupied by part of the Doctor's Plaza, a medical clinic. But back in 1942, Gladys and Warren Reynolds, a young married couple, lived there.
"At first I thought they were ordinary noises," soft-spoken Gladys Reynolds remembers. "But my husband thought from the beginning that something peculiar was going on. He always seemed to have the most experiences. I worked during the days, and he was on the night shift as a deputy sheriff. Oscar seemed to be around more during the day when my husband was at home."
The Reynolds's first indication that Oscar was still in "his" house came during a thunderstorm. The family was in a downstairs room. Footsteps suddenly pouded across an upstairs hallway. What followed sounded like windows being shut in the bedrooms. Sure enough, when the family checked upstairs, each window that had been open was now firmly closed against the brewing storm.
On another day, the couple's twelve-year-old daughter was home alone finishing some homework in the dining room. She heard someone coming down the staircase. The little girl was so frightened she hid under the big round table. The descending footsteps stopped abruptly on the last step. Peering out, the child could see she was quite alone.
Oscar was very shy. On only two occasions did he allow himself to be glimpsed. The witness in both cases was Warren Reynolds's mother. She lived with her son and daughter-in-law for several years before her death.
The senior Mrs. Reynolds occupied the same bedroom in which Oscar was reputed to have died. The first time she saw Oscar was quite late at night, when a sharp sound forced her awake. She looked around the room. There was Oscar standing with his back to her, bending over a grate in the fireplace. Hoping the specter would disappear, the old woman pulled the blankets over her head. A few moments later she peeked out. The shadowy stranger was still there. Oscar finally melted into the darkness.
Oscar's second visit to his old bedroom was quite a bit shorter, and again at night. He was standing quite still next to a potted plant, with his back toward Mrs. Reynolds, who had again been awakened from a sound sleep. And as before, after a few seconds, he seemed to melt away.
Oscar frequented his bedroom often. He seemed to prefer the cane-bottomed rocker, for the family would hear its familiar creaking back and forth for minutes on end. Each time they investigated, however, the chair was absolutely still and no one was in the room.
Gladys Reynolds recalled that Oscar also liked to prowl about the partially-finished attic. "My husband heard someone up there one afternoon. He thought some kids had broken in through the window. Well, since he was a deputy sheriff he took out his revolver and headed up the stairs. But when he got there, he couldn't find anything. All the windows were locked and nothing had been disturbed. From what he heard, he was convinced someone had been walking around up there."
An incident in 1948 involved a woman friend of Mrs. Reynolds who came to visit for several days. Late the first evening, after her friend had retired, Mrs. Reynolds heard drawers opening and closing upstairs, footsteps moving across the floorboards and doors slamming. Surprised at the activity, she thought perhaps her friend was preparing to leave early in the morning. That notion was dispelled at breakfast when her friend assured her she was indeed staying and had slept soundly through the night. She emphatically denied being the source of the nocturnal activity.
The Reynolds family moved out of Oscar's house in 1965. It was subsequently torn down to make way for the medical facility.
Oscar, however, may have been so taken with the Reynolds family that he moved with them into their next home! Sometimes they hear faint footsteps or the creaking of the rocking chair Oscar fancied.
In the new house, Gladys Reynolds says there have been two occasions when objects have mysteriously disappeared, only to be found later in places the family had thoroughly searched.
"When I couldn't find my make-up compact in its usual drawer," Gladys Reynolds says, "I thought my granddaughter had taken it to play with. I didn't want to say anything to my daughter; I didn't want her to spank the child. I looked everywhere and after a few days I just gave up. My daughter and her family left and I still couldn't find the compact. Well, one day I opened a cabinet and there it was right in front of my eyes. I had looked there and would certainly have seen it if it had been there earlier."
Mrs. Reynolds attributes such incidents to pranks pulled by Oscar. After forty years of his antics, the Reynolds treat him like one of the family. They don't fear him and, indeed, respond to his now infrequent visits with a matter-of-factness characteristic of people who have accepted what is sometimes so hard for others to believe.
"I never did believe in ghosts either," Mrs. Reynolds emphasizes with a laugh. "But I know what I heard, what my husband believes, and what my mother-in-law saw. I can't explain it, but all those things did happen."
Do they want Oscar to reveal his presence more often? Mrs. Reynolds thinks probably not. "We always have the *feeling* Oscar is in the house," she affirms. And that seems to be enough for the Reynolds family and their old friend.
*~*~*~*
Yay! There's Oscar... BTW, I don't own Oscar, I just own the book.
*grins* It's Halloween and I'm kinda in my costume right now... I have a hoof print on my face... But that's it because my costume involves mud, and my mother would kill me if I got mud all over the house. But I bet the hoof print looks funny ^__^ I couldn't think of anything for a costume, but my mom wouldn't let me stay home, so I had to come up with something within the week. I made my costume last night and I have a white pair of jeans and a white t-shirt and I took one of my vaulting horse's old shoes and dipped it in mud and put it on my clothes. So now I'm just someone who - as people at school said - got hit by a horse. lol! Ok, I'm done ranting now...
Oh, and keep checking to see what the sequel is called, cuz I'm gonna put it here. I'll let all of those I've been emailing when I update like that, so you guys don't have to worry about it.
JFN!