My gaze flicked warily back to the hallway. “It seems something has invaded my walls and cellar, even the barricaded stairwell that runs up to the kitchen.”
“Invaded? I take it you don’t mean the usual suspects of mold or rodents,” he said carefully.
I should be so lucky. “I don’t know what it is. My upstairs neighbor thinks we have something nesting in the cellar. Rats, as you said, or maybe opossums. Normally, I’d be inclined to agree as I can hear scratching behind the plaster from time to time. But there have been other incidents that I can’t so easily explain away. Things I didn’t mention when I came to see you earlier.”
“Such as?”
“An insect husk was left on my nightstand in place of a missing bookmark. And I saw someone...something...with a hump on her back creeping through the shadows at Oak Grove Cemetery. She was very small. Shriveled, I would say, and dressed all in black. When she turned to look at me, she made this strange rattling sound in her throat. Almost like a cicada. Then last night, I spotted the same apparition—or one like her—in my garden. I can’t help wondering if this...being is Mott Toombs. She’s trying to make contact for some reason.”
“An interesting theory,” Dr. Shaw said thoughtfully. “But there may be another, less alarming explanation.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Would it reassure you to know that such a sighting as the one you just described isn’t all that uncommon?”
“You must be joking.”
“No, no, I’m dead serious, my dear. Have you never heard of the Old Hag Syndrome?”
“Papa used to tell me stories about boo hags,” I said. “Is that the same thing?”
“Tales of boo hags are particular to our part of the country, but people all over the world have experienced the night-hag phenomenon.”
“Which is...?”
“A feeling of being watched, of something lurking about or standing over you. Even if nothing is actually seen, there’s a common perception that the watcher is a dark, female figure, usually old and wizened. Even more common are reports of audio hallucinations—scratching, scraping, buzzing, static. The medical explanation is sleep paralysis, or more specifically, hypnagogic or hypnopompic hallucinations. A state that usually occurs right before you fall asleep or are just waking up. In other words, a visual and audio representation of a dream while you’re partially awake.”
“A lucid dream, you mean. I don’t think that would explain what I saw at the cemetery,” I said. “I assure you, I was fully awake. Nor do I think it would explain the cicada husk and the missing bookmark, let alone the key that was tossed down into the cellar.”
Dr. Shaw fell silent for a moment, but I could sense his keen interest. “You didn’t mention a key before.”
“It happened yesterday when I went down to the cellar to look for other stereograms. I didn’t see anyone at the top of steps, but the key landed right at my feet. I couldn’t have missed it.”
Another pause. “And you’re worried that the instigator of all these incidents may be Mott Toombs?”
“Yes, that is precisely my worry.” I clutched the phone. “Dr. Shaw, I believe all of these events are somehow connected to that stereogram that I brought to your office. In fact, I’m certain of it. Someone or something is leaving clues for me to follow, only I don’t know how to interpret them.”
“I would agree there appears to be a connection.” His voice now held a note of concern.
“I feel as if I’m being manipulated. Herded is the term that comes to mind. As frightened as I am by the clues, I’m even more afraid of what might happen if I don’t follow them.”
He must have heard the panic that had crept into my voice because he said in a soothing tone, “I’m here to help you, Amelia. We’ll figure this out together. The most important thing to remember when confronting the unknown is to remain calm. Negative energy attracts even more unrest. As you know, my dear, I’ve conducted dozens of investigations into the supernatural over the years, and more often than not, a logical answer can be ascertained if one cares to dig deeply enough. Even in your case, I should think.”
“Nothing would make me happier.”
“Noises in walls, for example, are almost always caused by animals. The aforementioned rats and mice, the occasional opossum or squirrel. We’ve also run across our share of raccoons. Crafty little beggars with nasty dispositions and the very devil on wiring. If something is nesting in your cellar and walls, I would suggest we first eliminate the normal before we tackle the abnormal. Nine times out of ten, a vermin infestation is the source of the problem.”
“And the one time out of ten?”
“Inconclusive,” he said after a nerve-racking pause.
“Somehow those statistics don’t reassure me.”
“Better to know what we’re dealing with, is it not?” he asked gently. “Then we can decide how best to proceed.”