The Stranger

MRS. GOLDMAN MEETS HOOVER 

 

Whether a gremlin, leprechaun or poltergeist has moved in with me, I don't know. What I do know is I can't explain the crazy things that are happening around here. I have checked my family history with the Dept
of Emigration going way, way back to 1865. Right after the Civil War ended my great, great, great grandparents came to America from Riga, Latvia and there wasn't a single O'Shaunessy or Cassidy among the Goldbergs.

 

Oh, oh, somebody is ringing the doorbell, but I am not getting up. I can see from where I am sitting in the living room that nobody is outside. It rings on and off at fifteen minute intervals almost daily. Jimmy, an electrician whose name I took from the Yellow pages, is intrigued by my story, hears it himself but after hours of searching finds no reason for this phenomena. Nice guy, refuses to charge me. He asks if he can bring another electrician to see if he missed the trouble spot. 'It won't cost you anything, Mrs. Goldman.' 'Why bother. He isn't going to find anything so I tell Jimmy 'no.'

 

When my husband, Danny comes home for dinner, he swears on our son's head, that he can hear his mother talking to somebody in the kitchen while he watches the Nick game. 'Don't swear, Danny. That's unlucky,' I tell him for maybe the umpteenth time. 'Mrs. Goldman Sr. has been dead for twenty years, so I figure she's left her grave and is now a gremlin bothering us. Right, Danny?'

 

'Danny,' I call from our bedroom. 'Did you happen to see my single strand of pearls on the dresser table before or after your shower?' 'No,' is all he says but I forgive him because he seldom looks further than his nose.

 

As he is about to take his first taste of my delicious noodle pudding, I hit him with another gremlin story. 'Danny, I definitely put my pearls on my bureau as soon s I heard you pull into the garage. I took ½ sec to dab on fresh lipstick and came right downstairs to kiss you hello. My necklace has disappeared. I've looked everywhere while you were watching that dumb wrestling match.' His brilliant reply is, 'It will turn up sooner or later.' And Danny is right. In the morning I find it in an old purse on the top shelf of my closet. I haven't used it in years and have now put it where it belongs, in the Goodwill box and my pearls are around my neck. I can't understand what made me look in that purse.

 

I'm in the basement ready to put a load of clothes in the washing machine when I hear the vacuum running in the dining room. How did it get out of the hall closet and who is using it? I am very frightened and hurry out of the house thru the cellar door. From the back porch I can see the entire dining room and the vacuum is not there.

 

So far neither Danny nor I have been hurt but I, at least, care about what is going on. At dinner I tell Danny I have made a decision and contacted the Ghost Gazette. 'Ghost Gazette? What the hell are you talking about, Woman?. Where did you find a ghost paper?' His attitude annoys me and I call him a stubborn fool. 'Too many strange things are happening. You are away all day and I see and hear them. You don't hear the door bell ring, think I'm getting senile and put my pearls in the closet but I didn't. You don't want to be here when the people from Ghost Gazette come? Don't. I'll take care of everything.'
I'm not quite finished my tirade against my husband when the vacuum upstairs starts itself, rolls into the hallway with nobody pushing it. Danny laughs and blames me for not turning it off. 'Annie, I'll turn it off for you.' He goes upstairs and finds the vacuum in the bathroom. It stands upright and silent against the bathroom wall. I can hear him cuss all the way back to the kitchen. He looks pale and asks me how the devil this Electrolux got in our house.' 'I thought you had a Hoover.'

 

'Right. I did have a Hoover. So am I goofy? Well, you're the goof. We have spirits in the house. The Ghost Gazette group will be here at noon tomorrow. You can go to work or stay home to support me. What do you want to do?' He surprises me and promises to stay home.

 

I give Danny breakfast, straighten the bedroom. At 11:45 I take the wet towels from the bathroom to the basement and start to go upstairs. Everything gets dark, pitch dark. I can hear the doorbell, Danny letting people in. He calls my name but can't hear me answer. The vacuum cleaner starts by itself and I am sucked into the brushes. Danny calls me again, 'Turn off the damn vacuum and come upstairs. The Ghost Gazette people are here.'

 

I breathe in the dust until there is no breath left in my chest and there is no more me.