I couldn’t end the night without commenting on a interesting event that occured Saturday night. Kelly, Hallie, and I were winding down after an exhausting day spent walking around downtown Asheville and hiking Mount Pisgah. Hallie was not falling asleep like she normally does, only settling after about 15 minutes of holding her (and 45 minutes of her crying before that). I walked into the den of our cabin and plopped myself into a chair, picking up a copy of Mountain Express to read while Kelly read her book on the couch.

I was deep into the newspaper when I noticed something move across the room right above my line of sight. A faint white blur about the size of a baseball made a tight loop on the wall above the window.

Um, okaaaay, I thought, as I checked the level of wine still in my glass. I knew I was dog tired. It must have been my imagination.

I continued reading the paper. A few seconds later it happend again, this time a few feet to the right of the last place. Once again it was a swirling motion, like someone waving their hand. All right, I thought. I did not imagine THAT! I folded the newspaper and stood up.

Being of a relatively open mind, I am not averse to the idea of the existence of things yet unknown. That said, I was stumped to simply explain it away. Twice I saw it. As the saying goes, “fool me once…”

Kelly didn’t look up from her book when I began to pace the floor, trying to justify what I saw and debating whether to tell her. Gosh, what if my wife thought I was, well, weird?

“Uh, honey,” I finally said. “I think someone is trying to get my attention.” Kelly looked up but didn’t really buy into what I was saying. She was way too sleepy at this point for a deep metaphysical talk. I proceeded to start one, anyway, but gave up when I saw I was losing my audience. We went to bed soon afterward.

I have never claimed to see ghosts. I wouldn’t know what one looked like if it shook my hand. And I’m not sure what it actually was that I saw. Still, I could find few possible logical causes. Darkness had long since fallen on the cabin. Nestled in the woods, there was no chance that the light was caused by a stray headlight. Though Kelly was reading behind me, she had already removed her jewelry. Even if she hadn’t, she was reading by a floor lamp reflecting light on the ceiling. No chance for a glint of light to be cast from her ring or necklace. I could blame the light on nothing other than my imagination or an actual event. I was willing to chalk the first one up to imagination, but not the second one.

As we packed up this morning, the owner of the place stopped by and asked us about our stay. “How was the cabin?” he started off. I listed a few mechanical things we had noticed – like the tub not draining properly. You know, nothing major. After every item, he said “Thanks a lot. I wouldn’t otherwise know these things since I don’t live here anymore.” Though all I wanted to do then was get going on our trip to Linville Falls, it occured to me later that his statement had to be a lie. How can you own a house for 10+ years, rent it out, clean it after every rental and then plead ignorance to its problems? It didn’t wash with me. Just one of those things that made me wonder if he had a secret.

Later in our drive, I began to suspect the owner may have been “fishing” for information. After every minor annoyance I would report, he would say “and anything else? Did you notice anything else?” His odd questioning only made me more convinced I had not imagined what I saw. It made me wonder if I wasn’t the first guest to notice something unusual in the cabin.

So, was I imaging things? Or is it time I checked myself in to Dorothea Dix? Or long past time? What do you think?