Cue the Death Theme

Even though mom has cats now she won’t let them near the mice, but it’s like one of the only benefits of having cats, they’re good with mice. The cats are barn cats, kittens still, and they’ve destroyed most of the area they’re allowed access to, starting with the house plants and frilly curtains in mom’s upstairs living room.

The cats come from a mountainous region outside of Munich, delivered in a box with straw by my mom’s Bavarian lodger, Guido. We’ve never met Guido but heard lots about him, and I have two records he gave my mom to bring to me but haven’t listened to them yet, they have a dark look to them.

Guido stayed on the top floor in one of the rooms the girls use by the attic, a part of the house that feels charmed with electricity, paranormally speaking. Both girls had bad dreams in those rooms when we first lived here in 2009, and I guess there was a dentist who committed suicide in the house some time ago, and with the house being 500 years old you just have to imagine there’s some unrest in it somewhere.

The dentist had kids who were teen-aged and when mom and John bought the place the kids had written crude things on the wall that felt Satanic in tone, had disassembled a motorcycle indoors, gotten grease on the floorboards.

Sometimes birds or rodents would get into the attic and die; there was that very specific smell of something rotting up there in the summer months.

Mom said she went up in the attic once to confront whatever it was either she imagined or was rumored to be in the house, spirit-wise, and sat in the dark with it, said (either aloud or psychically) that we need to cooperate if we’re going to live here together or you need to get out, and since then there haven’t been any issues.

Mom also said Guido left his bong in the room and asked via email if she could empty the water (?), but mom didn’t know what he meant by that so I went up before the kids found it, and sure enough it was right there by the door on the floor knee-high, with knobs and like a place to grip it, so I set it aside and figured I’d empty it some time when the kids weren’t around so we wouldn’t have to do the drug talk yet.

I asked mom if she’s seen the Parisian neighbor Gilles recently, and she had: he’s got a growth on his neck, is allegedly dying of throat cancer—but when he last stopped by Guido was here and the three of them talked, and afterwards Guido (who’s a very gentle, sensitive person, mom says) told my mom never to let that bastard in again, and something about him dying and karma, which I agree with, knowing what I know about Gilles.

The cats (like the mice/rats) only come out at night, it seems. Because they’re barn cats I guess they’re really shy. But last night when I was in bed the two of them appeared on either side of me, and though they’re kittens they have a queer, Angel of Death aspect about them with their long faces and sinister, searching eyes. I’m hoping while we’re here we can convince mom to let them out and kill something.

Categories: death, Memoir, travel

Tags: , , , ,

6 replies

  1. Heavens. This does all sound a bit gothic.


  2. Wow, this is very cool, Gothic is almost an understatement. One hesitates to admit to such anxieties, but somehow a banshee dentist-spirit, who died, or perhaps was taken, when the children’s satanic ritual/motorcycle maintenance went wrong somehow, does seem…almost disquieting. The baleful cats are clearly harboring the familiars. Is the odor you encountered in the attic, one of decomposition, or something more sulfurous

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ah, this is the Benny Hill shenanigans of my mom’s house is all. Trying to piece things together before I forget it all, running out of time. Baleful cats is right: pale, evil saints. Supernatural, the new normal.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. “Electricity, paranormally speaking” could describe the whole post. Theme nicely cued.


  4. what creepy bookends they are –

    Liked by 1 person

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