Boo

by Doug Love

“Now set yourself down right here, honey, and I’ll get you some juice and cookies,” said this bent little lady. The floorboards creaked as she shuffled away. I admired the room I occupied, the dining room. Its woodwork, plaster walls and high-domed plaster ceiling embodied old-world craftsmanship. I wondered when the house was built. Turn of the century, maybe.

“Nineteen and fifteen,” said the lady. I jumped an inch off my chair; I hadn’t seen her return.

“My daddy built this house in nineteen and fifteen,” she said. She told me her father milled the lumber from rough to finish and built the windows and doors himself.

“Now let’s get down to business,” she said.

I spread out my market analysis paperwork. The lady sat across the table from me and stared directly at my face, unblinking. Upon my conclusion: silence. I looked around the room and flinched at the sight of a cat eyeballing me, unblinking, from a chair in the corner. My knee twitched.

“I’ll ask Mama,” she announced, and shuffled away down the hall.

Mama must be up there in years, I thought, this lady had to be in her eighth or ninth decade.

“Mama says you’ll do,” she said. “We’re ready to get to selling.”

I asked if her mother needed to sign the listing documents.

“Hee hee hee,” she wheezed, “Mama’s been dead 20 years and more.” She stopped smiling and whispered, “But Mama visits.”

Next morning I called the California Association of Realtors Legal Hotline. “Do I need to disclose a ghost?” I asked.

“Hearsay and anecdotal comments regarding the existence of the paranormal are not within the legal guidelines of disclosure obligations,” said the attorney. “However, if your client believes apparitions of the supernatural exist upon the premises, it may be prudent for you to disclose that belief, in the event a buyer has a pre-conditioned abhorrence to such phantasm.”

I visited the little lady. “Listen,” I said, “I think we need to disclose your mother’s visits.”

She laughed and wheezed. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said, “Mama’s coming with me, and we ain’t a-coming back.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” I said. “By the way, the cat is going with you, too, right?”

“Cat? Honey, I haven’t had a cat for 20 years and more.”