Last weekend, Lazz and I headed out to middle-of-nowhere Missouri to participate in a guided tour and exploration of an official paranormal site. We visited a haunted building--formerly hotel, schoolhouse, brothel--now run down that was on Travel Channel's "Top Twenty-Five Most Haunted Places in the US."
It was a truly enjoyable experience--meeting these other couples from the petite college cheerleader and her brawny man who had "ghost apps" on their phones to the women who worked at a Reebok store together and watch ghost TV on weekends. We had experienced paranormal hunters with us. There was equipment for monitoring electro-magnetic charges, unexplainable flashes of light. I got seriously creeped several times, but I also laughed a lot with Lazz.
We stopped hunting around 3:30 AM. Too tired to drive back, Lazz and I set down blankets on the porch.
We were inside a closet that had a confederate flag on it. The house was once a stop on the underground railroad. We sand "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" trying to invoke a spirit. It did not work.
The fireflies were huge, jetting between the ancient trees in the front lawn in front of us. Thousands of visible stars. Broken limestone was everywhere. The house creaked. Cicadas.
Suddenly the stars were disappearing. "Look what we did," I said. "We made the stars go away!"
"I think it's the light," he replied.
I pointed to one street light a mile away. "That?" I asked.
He laughed, "No. The big light. The sun."
"Oh that," I said. And next thing I knew, dew was everywhere and the sky was full of bright blue.
The sky became pink.
And then guess what happened?
Well, what do you think.