Читать книгу Colorado Ghost Stories - Antonio Boone's Garcez - Страница 8

Edward is a character of sorts. He’s wheelchair bound, but that has not put a damper on his lively attitude to life. As we talked at his kitchen table, we were interrupted with phone calls from two friends; one being a woman who he stated was a girlfriend. My interview lasted for just about two hours, but the impression this jovial man left with me will linger for definitely much longer.

— Antonio

“I was born in Columbus, Ohio, 88 years ago. In 1967, my wife, Vivian, and I moved to Denver and 14 years later, after her death, I decided to move to Antonito. I’ve been living here ever since that day.

I lost the use of both legs due to a truck accident I had while driving for a freight company. That accident happened about four years after my wife and I had moved to Denver. The odd thing about that accident was that I was not even driving the truck at the time. I was getting ready to enter the truck, when another truck came by and struck me. I was holding on to my truck’s door handle, pulling myself up and getting into the cab. After taking my first step up, the other driver misjudged his turn and scraped me off my truck, and I dropped to the ground. The injuries were to my lower legs. The accident happened so quickly all I can remember of the accident is a loud noise and nothing else. The bones in both my legs were crushed. Since that time, I’ve never been able to fully walk on my own. And since then I’ve had to use this wheelchair you see me in.

I did get a bit of insurance money, but not much at all is left of that insurance settlement. The rents are low here in Antonito; I don’t need much in the way of entertainment and fancy food, so I do all right here. Now it’s just me and my dog Blacky. Its just me and this crazy little dog that misses me like the dickens whenever I leave her at home for any short length of time.

So, you’d like to know about my ghost story? Well, I haven’t told anyone except for a few close friends at the senior center. And as you told me, that’s how you found out about me, one of then gals must have told you about the old man in the wheelchair who’s seen ghosts. Once I tell you my story, you’ll only be one of the few who’ll know of it.

Well, approximately five years ago, in the early evening, about 6 or 7 p.m., I was in my backyard watering plants in the yard and filling a birdbath that was by a tree. My dog Blacky was in the house. It was not an unusual evening at all. Suddenly, I heard Blacky begin to loudly bark as if he were in danger, or alerting me to danger of some kind. I turned my wheelchair around to face the back door and I saw a large man standing at the door, staring back at me from inside my house!

I didn’t recognize this guy, but I was able to clearly make out his features. He was about 50 or so years old, with a very thick and dark moustache. His face was big and round, and his shoulders were very broad. His overall appearance gave me the impression that his intentions were not very positive. He didn’t move a muscle when I called to him, “Who are you, what are you doing in my house?” Blacky was barking uncontrollably. Again I called to him, “Who are you?” I began to feel really uneasy because he refused to respond to my words. I felt helpless but determined to find out who this man was, and what he was doing inside my house.

He and I both stood looking at each other, not making any movements. I admit that I was confused as to what to do next. But something inside of me urged me to stand my ground and make the first move toward him. I dropped the water hose and began to push the wheels of my wheelchair towards the house. Just then I saw this man turn and move away from the door, and move within the darkened house. Blacky was still in the house barking, but then abruptly stopped! I was instantly gripped by a fear that was paralyzing!

I was sure shaken up! I just knew that this man had hurt or even killed my dog. My spirit sank, I felt so helpless. In my soul I knew that something awful had just taken place. As I rolled up the short ramp that led up to my back door, I grabbed the knob, turned it and entered my house.

Strangely, as I entered the kitchen and turned on the light, the atmosphere of the room had a thickness to it, and at the same time, the room was very, very cold. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before or since. It was as if an invisible blanket of intense darkness had been placed over me. And even though the light was on, It did nothing to remove my fear. I was scared because I knew that something evil was very close to me. I began to shake with a freezing, shivering coldness. The whole house gave me the sensation that it was totally being over taken by this bitter cold. I knew that something had happened to my Blacky because normally he would come running directly to me when I’d come into the house. I nervously and in a shaky voice yelled out, “Whoever you are you better get running or else!” There was only silence.

I managed to roll myself over to the doorway that leads into the living room and when I entered the room I spotted Blacky cowering under one of the chairs. I wanted to look around in every room of my small home to see if the stranger was still in the house, but I was in no physical state to risk being hurt. I called to Blacky to come to me, but he would not budge.

I reached for the phone to call my neighbor, who lived one house away from mine. He answered and said that he would be right over. In just a few minutes I heard him call to me from the outside, then he turned the knob on my front door. The door was locked! Given all that had happened, I had forgotten to unlock my front door. I rolled over to the front door and opened it.

When my neighbor entered I quickly explained in short detail about the strange man that I had seen. Then, without any urging from me, he automatically investigated the whole house searching all the rooms of the house, looking into my bedroom, closets and bathroom. Not wanting to miss a thing, he even looked under my bed. By that time Blacky was coming out of his terrified state, came over to me and jumped on to my lap.

Nothing was found to be out of the ordinary. All my windows were locked and the two doors that lead to the outside, the back and front entry, were secure. I was unable to understand what had just happened or who the strange man was. I know I was not imagining it, because even my dog had experienced it. It was a hell of a thing to think that I had seen a ghost, but what else could it have been? I thanked my neighbor and after we had talked for a few minutes more, he left. I began to feel a bit more comfortable as nightfall came, but that evening, I must admit that I did sleep with most of the house lights on.

After watching television for a few hours, I felt that everything was back to normal, and that I might have even imagined it all. I decided to go to bed. But I would soon begin to have what would become a constant series of bad nightmares that took me almost three months to overcome.

These nightmares would awaken me from sleep many nights after. I would always dream the same dream that included that man with the moustache. In my dreams he would yell at me, just yell at me for no reason. As his yelling would get louder to the point of madness, I would awaken. It was the anger in his voice that would shake me the most. I would not be able to understand the words he would yell at me, but I knew that they were not very good.

These horrible, terrible nightmares would awaken me once, or even sometimes twice a night. I’d wake myself up from hearing my own moans and sometimes screams. But one night in particular was the scariest. After awakening from one of these nightmares, I lay awake in my bed and in just a few moments I heard the sound, the insane laughter of this man’s voice coming from within my bedroom!

I was filled with a terror that gripped me strongly. It began as soon as I awoke from the nightmare. That horrible laugh, followed by the words, “Why did you do this to me, why did you do it!” My body trembled convulsively with fear. Then the loud sound of something breaking, or cracking came immediately after his voice stopped. The cracking sound was one that would be made by a wood board, which had been snapped! I was really scared.

Suddenly, the feeling of dread left me, and the atmosphere of the room seemed to become normal. Except for the scent of an unusual “wet or dampness” that lingered in the room, the voice of the man was gone and I felt a sense of relief come over me. I turned on the night light at my bedside, and left it on for the remainder of the night.

I didn’t even want to get out of bed to use the bathroom. I just had the feeling that if I had done that, who knows what I might have seen looking back at me in the mirror! I tried to go back to sleep and eventually I did. In the morning, I did out of bed and spotted nothing different in the room at all. But just a few days later everything would change.

I left my house to visit my sister who lived in Durango, Colorado. I was gone for two long weeks, during which time she was in the hospital being treated for the last stage of pancreatic cancer. I was unable to take Blacky with me, so I left Blacky at home with a neighbor who would care for him while I was away. I kept in touch by telephone with my neighbor back home, who I would call every few days. Strangely, he informed me that one day someone came to my home and he left a note with his name and phone number. When I returned home my neighbor handed me my mail and the note the man left.

I did not recognize the name on the note, but I did call him and asked him what he wanted to talk to me about. It so happened that he, his older brother and father had lived in the house I now live in. He then informed me of his family’s history, but most importantly was the terrible fact that when they lived at the house both he and his brother were constantly, being physically abused by their own father. The father was an alcoholic and would become very abusive when he drank.

One evening, after the father had begun to drink, one brother decided to take matters into his own hands, and picked up a handgun and shot his father. The bullet severed a large vein in the father’s chest and he died a few hours later. Well, the exact reason for his visit to my home was really unclear to this man. He told me he had been having dreams of his dead father for several months and his counselor convinced him that part of his recovery would be to return to his childhood home, and confront those memories head on. Eventually he found the courage and decided to make the long drive from the state of Nevada to my home, his boyhood home, hoping to come to grips, to conquer his reoccurring nightmares.

I informed him of my own recent nightmares, and also about the man I saw standing inside the house. He was shocked and surprised when I described the ghost’s features, and the words this spirit had spoken to me. He said that my description of the man, described his father completely, to a tee!

I was surprised as well, and could only come to the conclusion that the ghostly figure of the man I had seen and heard in my home was this man’s father, who was standing right in front of me. There was no doubt about it.

I believe that because of our unusual meeting, and the very personal things he shared with me regarding his terrible childhood, I have not had another frightening encounter or nightmare since. I believe that the spirit of the murdered man chose to communicate with both myself, and his only living son. I cannot think of a reason why this would have to be, but maybe after all is said and done, the dead do not really rest, especially if they treated others so badly while they lived on earth.”