Fidogeist

My husband David is wrong. It’s pure coincidence that everything started while we were watching Hocus Pocus. What does he know about it anyways? He was on a business trip.

Threatening music surged as Sarah Jessica Parker sat bolt upright. I gasped and Livie jumped, her popcorn flying. I laughed and went for the broom, missing our furry vacuum Leo who had passed the week before. I kept saying what a mess a new puppy would make, but I was weakening.

When I reentered the bonus room, the popcorn had disappeared. 

“Who ate popcorn off the floor?” My three favorite people stared back at me. 

“What?” Jake paused the Sanderson sisters’ screeches. He had looked so serious since Leo passed. I lightened my tone.

“The spilled popcorn. Who ate it?”

“Gross!” Rosie exclaimed. Not my little germaphobe. I sat, watching Jake and Livie closely.

“Oh no!” I gasped dramatically, tossing more popcorn. It vanished in midair. 

I sucked in a breath. 

“Did you guys see that?” A chill rolled up my spine. Livie was staring too. 

“What happened?” Rosie asked. I couldn’t say it.

“Watch.” I tossed more popcorn. It vanished. 

Fear rolled over me. Something was wrong. “Let’s move to my room.”

We crept down the hallway, freezing as a screech sounded ahead. Max, our cat, tore down the hallway, eyes wide, ears flat against his head. 

We surged back against the wall. Footsteps boomed behind him. I could track their progress by the photos swinging off-center along the opposite wall. A cold presence shoved into Rosie, knocking her into me as it passed. I felt something rough and wet lick my hand and then the hallway was silent. 

“I wish Leo was here,” Jake whispered. “He’d keep us safe.”

We all stared at each other then slowly continued down the hall. The kids slept with me that night. We locked the bedroom door.

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, I was slicing apples for school lunches when I felt cold air brush across the backs of my knees. I whirled around but nothing was there. 

“Mom?” Jake stopped short in the kitchen door when he saw me staring at thin air. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” I smiled weakly. “You ready for school?”

“Jake! The bus is here!” Livie screeched from the foyer. I grinned and handed him all three lunch bags. He winked at me and then jogged toward the door.

My favorite kind of quiet settled over the house. It had a different quality just after everyone left. I breathed in the silence and sipped my coffee. Then the trash can crashed to the floor.  

I sucked in a burning combination of air and coffee and doubled over coughing, forgetting to be afraid of the bits of trash that were now being flung across the room by some invisible force. I sank to the floor trying to get a full breath. And then something rough and wet began scraping across my face. I got a whiff of burnt popcorn and overripe bananas.

“Ugh, Leo,” I moaned, sliding my hands down my face. “Did I ask for a …”

But Leo wasn’t … The electricity of the thought jolted me upright. I stared cautiously around my empty kitchen. 

“Leo?” A firm pressure hit both of my shoulders and then I was laying on my back and although I could see my ceiling perfectly well, my face was getting the best wash it had ever had. 

~~~~~~~~

I decided not to tell the kids. I thought it would freak them out. Besides, would they even believe me? But that afternoon, while I was prepping dinner, I heard a squeal from the girls’ room. I sprinted up the stairs and down the hall in time for a plastic school bus to crash through their doorway and onto the carpet at my feet. I leaned into the cloud of pink and purple that was their room. A handful of Polly Pocket houses scattered across the space and a Bluey plush hit Livie in the face. I ducked in and crouched over the girls’ heads as a cloud of Legos pelted down on us. Everything from their open closet was raining through the air in a growing storm. Rosie screamed.

“Rosie, Livie,” I gasped pulling them to the floor. “It’s OK! Watch!” I took a deep breath. “Leo, sit!” I shouted.

Everything went still. 

Livie turned suddenly calm. She stepped forward, squinting. My most timid child looked ready to channel something from the spirit world as she reached toward the closet door.

“Leo? Is it you?” Her breath hitched as the tears eased out of her throat. A sudden force pushed her over into her bean bag and then she was shaking her head back and forth as if trying to avoid a too-enthusiastic tongue.

“Mom, you were right.” Rosie looked at me solemnly. “Dogs can really be messy.”

~~~~~~~~

When Jake got home from baseball practice we were all in the yard. At the exact moment he walked out on the porch, Livie tossed the purple tennis ball as hard as she could.  

“What are you guys doing out here? We haven’t been out since Leo …” He trailed off as the tennis ball raced back across the yard about three feet off the ground.

“No!” Jake yelled “Leo!?” He darted into the grass and tackled the tennis ball to the ground. I grinned. Leo had really been Jake’s dog. It was nice to see my boy smiling again. 

~~~~~~~~

When David got home Friday night, we were in the bonus room again—watching Ghostbusters this time. I glanced up and he was standing in the doorway, watching us all with a smile. I looked around the room. Rosie was sitting on the couch, her long legs hanging almost to the floor, foot rubbing absently back and forth in what seemed like thin air. Livie was sitting in the floor running Leo’s brush through the air about a foot off the ground. David was deeply engrossed in the movie, but he kept tossing pieces of popcorn toward Livie, where they immediately disappeared. 

“What the …” David took a step into the room.

“Dad!” Jake shouted scrambling to his feet. “You’ll never guess who we found!”

“Jen?” 

I thought David looked a little pale. I smiled gently up at him and scooped up a handful. I tossed it toward the other end of the room and it vanished mid-air. 

“Honey I’ve been thinking.” I grinned. “I think you’re right, we are ready to own a dog again.”