Archive for July, 2011

Christmas in July

My new family sure loves their get-togethers.

This was last week. One of my new aunts has a nice place in Michigan, and we met there for Christmas in July. It was really lovely. They had a pool, so I got to go swimming, which I love. It was fun to play with Morgan and Katelyn and Eddie and Matty, Marco Polo and Sharks and Minnows and trying to talk underwater and who can hold their breath the longest and some games we made up. For awhile, I forgot about my lost siblings. And I felt bad afterward. But… maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe they wouldn’t want me to.

I was almost happy. But seeing my grandparents there reminded me.

I gathered up my courage and asked questions. Something I’ve been wondering since this mistiness started. The ghost. Adele. The other Adele. It feels so strange to write that, to say that. I think she followed me back from my grandparents’ place after our spring gathering. Maybe because she shared my name. Maybe that woke her.

I asked my grandmother if she had ever heard any ghost stories about her house. She said no, that the house has been in their family for almost a century, and she’s never heard anything. I hesitated, but I had to ask, “Have you ever felt anything strange there? Or seen something you couldn’t explain?”

She looked at me a little strangely, but again she said no. She was very patient with me. I couldn’t help feeling that I was wasting her time. I almost told her about what I saw that first night I stayed in their house, but I didn’t. I guess I didn’t want to be dismissed as a lunatic, a disturbed little girl with too many bad things her past.

That happens to me enough as it is. No need to invite it.

So I showed her the picture on my phone of the foundation of the barn. Here: I asked if she knew how the barn burned down.

It was like I’d hit her with a static shock. She jerked a little, eyes widening. Peered closer at the picture, eyes darting back and forth. As if she’d never seen it before. “I’ve never actually thought about it, honey.”

“You’ve never…your family…you never thought about rebuilding it?”

“No… No, I don’t think we ever did. Not even back when I was a little girl, when we still had dairy cows. It was just…there. We walked around it. We didn’t really look at it.”

“It’s just…just been sitting there for decades, then? That…pile of rubble?”

“Well, yes. I suppose so.”

I pulled back, dread pulling at my chest. “Do you know what happened to the family who had the house before you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember. I don’t think I ever knew. I do…I do think that they were farmers, too. Had a number of children. They must have fallen on hard times. That was the Great Depression, hon. I was only a baby during that time. We left the dustbowl of Oklahoma, moved further northeast to corn country. We were lucky. We found a place for ourselves. But I was too small. I can’t tell you anymore than that, sorry.”

My head was spinning. I thanked her, I think, and went off by myself to think.

The other Adele had a family, too. And their barn burned down. And no one touches that place. No one notices it. They just pass right by. It’s invisible to everyone.

Except me.


New information

Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve updated. It’s…been a busy summer. I’ve been working for my dad at his retail store, which is very busy in the summer, and making recordings every night, and…

A few weeks ago I got this.

Test number something, I don’t know

So I’ve been trying to figure out what that means. I’ve been talking to people and going to the library and…

I’ll update more soon. I’ve found out a few things. They scare me.