The four of us were so excited!
We got permission from Cindy's mom to play inside their house, which was quite a privilege for kids in the 60s. We were rarely allowed to play in someone’s house so this was a special treat. Our summer days in my Detroit neighborhood were usually spent outside all day until the street lights came on, then we were homeward bound as quickly as possible.
But not this time. We were able to extend our time together by playing inside. Cindy was my next-door neighbor. One year older, and oh, so much wiser than the rest of us kids. An only child of a one-parent home. We were both children of divorced parents which was more of a rarity back then. Our similarities ended there since I was the youngest of four children, and far more spoiled and irresponsible. Poor Cindy. She was always chosen to be "it" when we played Kick the Cans, but she was also the best of story tellers. It was a common practice among us kids to sit on her porch at night and tell ghost stories. However, instead of being outdoors, we had the opportunity to go inside Cindy’s darkened bedroom, and really make it scary!
Joining in this "big" event was our friend, Martha, who lived about five houses down the street. She was a little younger than me and my best friend on the block. We played together all the time, usually at her house because she had a really cool clubhouse in her back yard. She was the youngest of seven children and had one of the few two-story houses on the block. Martha was fun, and easily went along with anything the rest of us wanted to do.
The other girl who joined us was Lori. She lived with her grandparents across the street from me when she wasn’t with her mom, who was also a single parent. Lori was the youngest of all of us, but she was loud, bossy, and a bit of a bully. We were victims of her bad temper and demands on many occasions. For such a small, scrawny child she could be physically brutal, and she scared the daylights out of most of us. But at other times she could be fun - as long as we did everything she told us to do. Martha and I weren't sure why Cindy invited her to hang out with us, but we obliged and were hoping that Lori would be in a good mood.
Once all four of us were at Cindy’s house, we went inside and down the hall to her bedroom. She situated herself at the head of the bed, with the other three of us lined up at the foot, all facing each other. Martha was by the window on the far wall, I sat in the middle, and Lori sat on the edge of the bed on the other side of me. Once settled, the lights went out, and Cindy began her story holding a flashlight at her chin giving her face an eerie glow.
I honestly don't remember the plot, but we were fully engrossed in every word she said. Then came the scary part where she lowered her voice, leaned our direction, and said, "There was a knocking at the window...".
Pause. Complete silence. We waited a few seconds and she said it again, but louder.
"And there was a KNOCKING at the WINDOW!"
Another pause. More silence.
Once more. "THERE WAS A KNOCKING AT THE WINDOW!
Silence again, and then...
"Tap. Tap. Tap." on the window near Martha.
"Tap. Tap. Tap."
We all heard it! Something… or someone… was tapping on the window!
Before we could process what was happening, Lori jumped up, started crying hysterically, ran out the bedroom door, the front door, and to her home across the street, yelling “Mommmmmy!” the entire time.
Martha and I stared at each other in shock. We couldn’t speak! We couldn’t move!
And then there was Cindy. Perfect Cindy, who always did her over abundance of homework, helped her mom around the house, the older, responsible one, who just sat there calmly, watching our reaction.
And then she burst out laughing!
At this point I was confused and so was Martha. When we saw Cindy laughing, we joined in too, not really knowing why but it just seemed like the thing to do.
Cindy finally stopped and explained.
"I knew we would be telling ghost stories tonight, so I talked to Mr. Wilson and asked him to come by the house and tap on my bedroom window at 7:30."
And Mr. Wilson, happy to be in on the joke, did exactly that.
Mr. Wilson and his wife were an elderly couple who lived directly across the street from Cindy, and were two of the kindest people in the neighborhood. They had a big horseshoe-shaped garden in their backyard, and would give us kids an armful of gladiolas every year to take to our moms, usually around Mother’s Day. They kept board games in their basement and invited us to come play while they treated us to graham crackers and chocolate milk. And, we found out that evening, Mr. Wilson liked to be in on a practical joke now and then as well.
I doubt Cindy expected Lori to react the way she did, and I’m sure she felt kind of bad about it. Who knew the neighborhood bully, the one who found pleasure in scaring everyone else, would be the one who got scared the most? Not just scared, but hysterical! In some ways we felt she deserved it, but we also felt bad for her too. After the three of us had a good laugh, Martha and I went home. I think Cindy told Lori what happened the next day and she was quick to recover once everything was explained.
However, I don't remember her bullying us so much after that. Maybe she did learn something after all.
It just took the best ghost story ever.
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