After the ghost of “The Warm Lady” left, a few months went by with the usual random appearances of gentle spirits, both animal and human, with nothing noteworthy to mention.
By this time, Kiani and I had truly perfected the art of home protection, which I wrote about in the last chapter. We hadn’t had an obnoxious or bad spirit enter our home since our move, which was wonderful. We felt like we could just relax and enjoy the “ghostly scenery”, as you might say.
I will mention a couple interesting events that happened to us before moving on.
Kiani came home from a weekend visit with her dad and described seeing two apparitions, which I found interesting – partly because she felt like they were the same spirit, but mainly because this was the first time she had ever seen a spirit visibly affect its environment.
One was a figure of what looked like a man, who entered through her bedroom door. She described him as a black, human shape with thousands of bright purple sparkles dancing inside the blackness. Quite beautiful.
She said that she had been feeling scared to sleep alone that night, and as she was thinking about this, the figure walked through the door and toward her bed, crossing over a rug on the way there. She said that the rug went down under his feet as he walked, leaving foot-shaped impressions, which glittered with purple sparkles for a couple seconds before fading.
The figure then walked over to her bed and sat down, turning to face her. His body formed an indention on the blanket.
“I didn’t feel like he was bad or anything,” Kiani told me. “But the bed moving kind of freaked me out a bit.”
“What did you do?” I asked her.
“I whispered ‘hi’ to him and then hid under the covers.”
She said later that she thought he must have showed up to watch over her as she slept because she doesn’t remember feeling afraid after that, just falling asleep peacefully.
The next day, she saw another man, which she believed to be the same man, watching her from the corner of her dad’s kitchen. This time, he was in solid form, and she described his appearance.
“He was kind of old, with a wrinkly face and white stubble on his chin. He had a cowboy hat on and a vest and boots.”
She saw this man a few more times in solid form at our house later. Each time, he seemed to be just casually walking in or out of rooms, which was typical behavior for the ghosts that Kiani was used to seeing.
(The cowboy spirit continued to connect with us over the next few months. The following February, he finally revealed himself as one of our spirit guides, which I’ll go into later.)
The next spirit to visit us however, was far from typical.
The first time she saw the boy was when we were coming home from shopping. As she was walking upstairs to our loft apartment, she noticed him looking down at us over the balcony rail.
Then she saw him a second time – bent down, peering curiously into my pet ball python’s tank.
“He looks like he’s about maybe twelve or thirteen, and he was dressed weird,” she told me when I asked her what he looked like.
My ears perked up at this. I have long been obsessed with fashion of the bygone eras, especially the 1700s and 1800s. Maybe this was an older ghost. I asked her for more details and laughed a little at her struggle to describe what he was wearing (Kiani knows little about vintage clothing).
“He had a long vest on, with lots of big buttons going down it…and a shirt on under it with long sleeves, but they were weird, like…all bubbly.”
“You mean puffy?”
“Yeah. And his pants were funny-looking. They only came to right under his knees, and there were buttons on those too, on the bottom. And he was wearing long socks that didn’t stay up well and these…um…buckles on his shoes. Big ones.”
My eyes got huge.
“Kiani! You just described colonial clothing. Do you know what that is?”
“You described boys’ clothing from the 1700s – George Washington’s time. That was almost three hundred years ago.”
“Whoa,” was the reply.
“We should try to talk to him with the spirit box next time you see him,” I suggested.
The spirit box is a neat little invention. You may have seen it before, if you’ve ever watched a ghost hunting show. We had tried one a couple months back, when a friend loaned hers to us.
It’s a little radio with an antenna that’s designed to scan through radio stations at super-fast speeds. The concept behind it is that spirits speak on a frequency that’s hard for humans to hear. But radios are supposed to be able to pick up these voices. It scans quickly through the stations – too fast to hear more than a split-second of DJs speaking and music notes. So, if you do hear a word and especially two or more words of a sentence, then you’re making true contact.
(I must caution you, if you plan to use a spirit box or any spirit communication device. Be aware that if you use it in a home that isn’t blessed and sealed with sage and white light, it is possible that you will attract the attention of spirits you would not want in your home. If you plan to use it outside your blessed home space, such as on a ghost tour, be sure that you keep periwinkle, black tourmaline, or black obsidian on your person or in your car so that you don’t bring unwelcomed visitors home with you.)
In our few days with the borrowed box, we had a couple interesting moments. My favorite was when we asked about spirit cats, and the box said, “Cat…cat…kitty…cat…meow.”
When we jokingly asked what a ghost cat might eat, a man’s voice promptly replied, “Just give him some bread.”
(I stupidly didn’t think to record this session, but we definitely got the boy’s voice recorded in a later chapter).
The second interesting session with the box seemed like it was going nowhere. All we got was static and cut-off words from DJs and commercials.
But then something happened that served as a reminder of how effective and important it is to keep your home cleansed and protected.
I felt the unmistakable presence of something dark and negative begin to enter the room. I opened my mouth to remark on this when a deep, male voice over the box said, “F**k!” Then, quickly, the presence vanished.
I feel strongly that whatever it was failed to come in due to the protection we keep on the house and especially the bedrooms. The window directly to my right was lined with bits of sage along the sill, and the nightstand held a black tourmaline and a periwinkle amulet.
A few days later, we got our chance to talk to the boy. Before I tell you what happened, I will tell you why this boy is especially unusual. Maybe it’s because of how long he’s been around – I don’t know – but the kid has a knack for moving objects, and he does it a lot.
Before the first spirit box session with him, he had moved two objects. First was a half-eaten bag of chips, pushed gently up to Kiani’s leg as she played on her phone. Then, in much the same manner, he pushed a little toy dog toward Kiani as she was playing.
On the day we first heard him, Kiani had seen him again, and I decided to give the box a shot.
I was still rather new to it and not used to how loud the static sounds were. I sat there, fussing with it and trying out a pair of earphones, to see if it sounded better.
“Ugh,” I complained, “these earphones are awful.”
I closed my eyes and started to listen again, then was suddenly startled by Kiani tapping me hard on the leg. I looked at her, and she pointed behind me, wide-eyed.
When I turned around, I saw a few necklaces and a pair of earphones three feet behind me, swinging gently back and forth on their wall hook.
(I didn’t make the connection at the time, but someone was obviously trying to be helpful by pointing out my second pair of earphones.)
I yanked the first pair of earphones out of my ears and looked back at Kiani.
“Something lifted them!” she said, amazement in her voice. “I saw them being picked up!”
I turned back around and stared in awe as the last bit of movement came to a stop.
I quickly plugged the stereo into the box so we both could hear and said, “Someone just moved the necklaces behind me. Who did that?”
A couple seconds of static was followed by the voice of a preteen boy, “I did.”
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Weston,” the boy’s voice said, then back to the static.
We couldn’t get him to say anything else at this point, so we had to give it up for the day.
After this, he continued in his cute attempts to play with Kiani. He spun the hamster wheel as she reached for her hamster, pushed another toy toward her while she played, and so on.
She kept seeing him too, in solid, misty, and light-colored shadow forms. His favorite time to show up was when we were being silly, talking about interesting subjects, or doing fun activities as a family.
He never did and never has shown himself or moved anything downstairs, however. It’s like he understands that he would scare my mom.
Once, I managed to contact him using my tarot cards (as I did in The Warm Lady chapter). He had been with us a while, and I wanted to know what he wanted and if he needed help.
His response was that he loved our home because we are kind and funny, and all the pets fascinate him (we have many). He especially likes Kiani and thinks she’s entertaining.
I talked about him moving objects, and he expressed a lot of worry and shame on the subject.
“Is it bad to move objects? I can’t help it. Please don’t be mad,” was the strong impression I got.
(Looking back on this reaction later, it became obvious to me that he most likely scared the living crap out of the families he’d visited over the years. It’s no wonder he responded that way. He wanted to be with us and enjoy our company, not scare us to death.)
The tarot session ended with me telling him that he most likely has family waiting for him somewhere and that if he wanted to go to them, my Guardian Spirit would lead him to where he needed to go. I told him he was a good kid and that he was welcome here, if he decided to stay instead. The choice was his.
Well, as you can probably guess, he chose to stay for a little while longer.
I think what amused me the most about Weston was his love of stories. He always seemed to show up when I was telling the kids about something funny or interesting that happened to me or when I would read my writing out loud to check for errors. Kiani would see an outline of him standing in the doorway, leaning casually into the frame, like any preteen boy would if he wants to hear the stories but not appear too interested.
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