I have a story about my mother, God love her, and my brother, God love him, that I just have to tell. (You know when a Southerner starts off a story with “God love him/her” that it’s going to be juicy.) So anyway, there are a few facts about my mother and my brother you have to know before my story makes sense.
1. My mother and brother still live together because he was her very late in life baby which makes him significantly younger than I am.
2. My mother will tell anyone (that she really, really likes) that she routinely made me and the two brothers stay up late every weekend watching scary movies because she didn’t want to watch them by herself.
3. My mother sleeps like she’s taken a dozen sleeping pills before bed. (I had a car wreck when I was 17. I had to call a friend to go wake my mother up by banging on the door because my mother slept through the incessant phone calls from the hospital. Seriously.)
4. My mother believes in ghosts, spirits, vampires, witches, supernatural powers, goblins, basically anything that can eat you or possess you because of it’s evil nature.
5. Brian, my brother still living at home, is not a heavy sleeper. And by not a heavy sleeper, I mean he only requires the fourth call from the hospital before he wakes up.
6. Brian also believes in the boogey man.
So Mom and Brian still live together and every once in a while, when I go to Mom’s house, Brian will be there and we will all participate in a conversation. It’s one of those novel things regular families do. A couple of weeks ago, one of those conversations happened. Brian told me there was something living in the attic, but it only made noises at night. He said whatever was up there would scratch on his ceiling/it’s floor all night long. There’s an opaque plastic cover to a section of the ceiling that lets you see up into the attic in the hallway and he swore he had seen something moving through the cover. He said the night before, he had awoken to banging on his door. Now, he keeps his bedroom door locked, so he was safe, but Mom’s bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so how was she going to fare with an intruder banging on his door and her door only inches away? He called her cell phone. No answer. (No surprise.) Mom has a couple of geriatric dogs who will occasionally bark when their bad eye sight or near deafness allows them to know a new person is nearby, but neither dog woke up that night. Brian tried yelling through the doors to wake Mom up but, shockingly, she slept through his yelling. Eventually, the banging on his door stopped and B-dog sat up the rest of the night with the lights on in his bedroom.
When Brian told us this story, Mom laughed so hard she had tears streaming down her face. Why? Because she knows that the zombie invasion could storm through her house and she’d miss the whole thing.
No one has gone up into the attic to find out what or who is living there. We’re all hoping the Texas heat burns it up and then someone will go up and take the corpse out of the attic.
I really hope Brian dreamed up the whole thing. The alternative– that Mom is right about ghosts, goblins, zombies, and boogey men– is just too horrible to concieve.