I’ll tell you one of the spookiest experiences of my life. That was when I was house sitting as a college student in a fancy house on the Connecticut shoreline. I’d never seen a house so beautiful. In some ways, it was a real treat staying somewhere so nice – I was used to a cramped dorm room shared with three other people and living in an apartment with my mother and two sisters the rest of the time. So an entire house was a real luxury. But I wasn’t expecting to have a regular visitor. No one told me about the widow and her walk.
The house had what is called a widow’s walk at the top of it, said to be a place where women would look for their sailing husbands to see if they were coming home or lost to the sea forever. Seeing that widows walk and having its purpose explained to me for the first time put chills on the back of my neck I didn’t completely understand. Maybe somehow I’d already realized that something wasn’t quite right. But that widow’s walk really disturbed me. I thought it was truly awful some poor woman would look out across the ocean, hoping her husband made it home okay.
My first night in the house was very relaxing. I took a bath in their Jacuzzi tub and made myself grilled salmon in their big fancy oven. I sank into the guest room bed and felt the soft mattress comfort me. The cotton sheets and light blanket were perfect. I had a window open and could smell the breeze coming off of the ocean. Then I thought of the widow’s walk for a moment, shuddered and put my mind on other thoughts. I slept soundly and the next day went into town to the Farmer’s Market. It was a good day.
But when I came home, it was a very unnerving sight! The door leading to the garage was open and I KNEW I had left it shut. I am very conscious about what I leave opened or closed. I walked through the house slowly, wondering if I should call the police. The house was fitted with one of those top-notch alarm systems and I realized that it would take a real pro not to set it off. That made me even more nervous. Because either there was someone who really knew what he was doing in the house – or there was something more mysterious going on. I shut the door and focused on making a salad for lunch.
The rest of the day passed quickly. I swam in their pool and got a bit of sun. The day made me a bit tired and I decided to turn in early. My eyes were just closing when I heard the sound of footsteps on the floor outside the bedroom in the hallway! I could feel my heart in my throat. I crept out of bed and looked through the keyhole. No one was there. They would have had to move very quickly to get out of the hallway. Hands shaking I dialed 911 to summon the police to the house. I was so scared I almost forgot the address.
The police came quickly and they broke down the door as I’d locked myself upstairs in the guest room bathroom with my cell phone. They searched through the house and couldn’t find anyone. “Don’t stay here tonight,” an officer suggested to me. There was something about the look in his eyes as if he wanted to say more but didn’t. I packed my bag and found a Motel on the edge of town. I called the family I was house-sitting for in the morning and told them of the footsteps.
“Oh that’s just Minerva,” the wife said tiredly. “Her husband murdered her in a drunken rage. She comes around most nights. We don’t mind except she likes to tuck the children in to bed.”
I looked up and found old newspaper stories from 1910 about the murder and suicide of the wealthy husband and wife. I never took another house sitting job again!
