My schoolmate Bob, the Comans' youngest son, once thought his older brother was pounding on the bathroom door and spouting obscenities at him for taking too long, only to learn when he came out that his brother was not at home. I always hoped and feared I might experience just one tiny ghostly event, but no. I still do, actually. The next house I buy is going to be haunted.

      

But the Comans had ghosts in abundance.

  

Each day two sets of handprints would appear on their antique cabinets, one over the other. One set appeared to be those of a small child, and above them were an adult's, but with spider fingers - having an extra joint on each finger (perhaps an artifact of inbreeding, as Hillsborough was reported to have the largest degenerate gene pool in the south at the time). One day, as Mrs. Coman was about to wipe off the prints, they began to move, sliding down and off the face of the cabinet, never to be seen again.

 

 

 

I always wanted to keep a brick or a board from that house, in hopes that a ghost remained in it. Then I could store it in a safe deposit box and rent it to people who wanted a ghost in their own home. Rent a Ghost. I think one could franchise that idea if you just got enough pieces of haunted houses.

 

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