My favorite Oscar story goes like this: The Attic of our home had been converted into 2 small bedrooms, and a walk in closet. I was really a pretty nice layout. Unfortunately, there was a cold spot in the house between the 2nd floor, and the Attic. This was sort of Ground Zero for Oscar, we believe he died there. Directly above the landing was a trap door that lead into something of a cubbyhole.
Ok so Mom and the kids are watching "The Ghost and Mr Chicken." and the movie is reaching its climax, Don Knots is trembling through the "Haunted House." when BANG the trap door falls right on Oscars spot. Oh the bang was quite something. My Mom still grins when she remembers how we all disappeared in such a flash that she did not really see us move, just 4 little heads peaking out from behind the funiture one by one.
Now the Trap Door was held in place by a 2" wingnut, I mean this thing was very substantial, and although it could have been a coincidence that the Trap Door Fell at just the right moment, it must also fairly be said it never fell before or after in the time we lived in that house, and I think it spoke to a slightly wicked sense of humor on Oscars part.
Oscar however was not always so kind. Years later after my parents broke up my dad wound up with the house. My Cousin Billy who was a contractor, had a spat with his girl and asked Carl if he could stay overnight in one of the unused bed rooms. Dad thought nothing of it, but as no one had used them in years the lights where long burned out. Dad gave Billy a kitchen Candle to provide some light while he was settling in ... 3 times Billy attempted the stair and 3 times the candle went out on the cold spot. Being a down to earth guy Billy said to hell with the candle, he had a good solid Maglight in the truck. You know the kind that takes like 6 D-Cells and you could brain a Gorilla with this thing. So off to bed Billy goes again and Poof, the Maglight goes off on the cold spot, and would not work again till he replaced the batteries. My cousin slept on the porch.
Dad would alternate between renting the small apartment on the 2nd floor in the back, and using that himself and renting out the main house. So he is living in the apartment at this time. He is totally alone you must understand and in half dream state he hears a voice as dry as an old grave whisper, "Carl" in his ear. He woke in blind terror, only to discover he had set the apartment on fire, smoking in his sleep. Dream or Oscar, the voice saved his life.
Stepping away from Oscar there is something else to touch on here.
My Gramps was "Possessed" now knowing a good bit more about this today than I did as a young child I would more precisely say he had a Neg Very Firmly Attached. (And a Rather Nasty One.) Point is this... When I was Baptised gramps was photographed along with everyone else holding the baby, and in the photo he appears to have devils horns. Oh thats a nasty trick of the light, No? It totally un-nerved gramps, and he had the photo's burned. ;) This is where it gets good, because you see my brother Tim was christened a year later and the very same thing happened again. Damn persistant trick of the light that one.
The thing is that not only did gramps have these two anomolious pictures taken, he also lived out the most miserable existance I have ever witnessed. He almost never left the smoke filled cave that was his living room. He kept heavy draps over the windows year round like he could not stand sun light, and I dont doubt he could. He largely lived on a diet of seriously over boiled chicken, which he cooked till the meat fell off the bone, then threw away the broth which face it had the only real food value left to it. When he died in his mid sixties of Emphazema he was suffering so badly from malenutrition he looked like an photo from Auschwitz. I remember clearly seeing him strecthout on the bed a few days before he died while my Aunt changed his linens. I will never forget that image.
Now of course I can never prove Gramps was Possessed, but if I where to write a story, about a person who suffered from a possession, who had his mind poisoned by the incessant whispering of his parasitic passanger, and who in time pushed every last good thing out of this life because of that poisoning, I mean right down to sunlight. I would not change a single thing. He lived a totally poisoned life the poor man.
Ama tu ANKI, BB.