Looking For House Sitter. Must Pray Daily.

I have a friend, whom I will call “Fred”. He recently told me the following story about a strange and ghostly event, which happened last year. I have no idea whether it is fact or fiction, but I am inclined to believe it is true, without further comment.

Having received my friend’s approval, I will post the story here for your consideration. It spans several different posts because of its length. I hope I can convey the same chilling sensation I felt when I first heard it.

#

Fred is a consulting software engineer. He travels extensively, seeking high paying and temporary engineering jobs through a variety of computer consulting companies. These jobs, although they pay well, frequently require him to journey to various cities for a few months at a time.

Last year, Fred found himself in a little Maryland town, called Ellicott City. He was working on a high paying, six-month assignment developing a Navy software system. The project was being run out of a highly unlikely looking office in the middle of this little town.

Fred described Ellicott City as beautiful, but very strange. The city is about fifty miles west of Baltimore. It is a town with bizarre features. For example, many of the downtown buildings are chiseled out of the granite hillside. It is uniquely isolated from the rest of the world by hills and forestland, and narrow county roads. It is well off of the interstate, and seems slightly out of place in space and time. The citizens of Ellicott are proud of their pre-revolutionary history, and their isolation.

Perhaps this was what made Ellicott City suitable as a location for developing esoteric and highly classified military software. It seems a place where secrets can exist for long periods of time. A location where mysterious things, that are better left uninvestigated, can peacefully rest undisturbed.

This odd little historic town charmed Fred! He loved the place! He was more of a big city type guy. He had spent time in Pittsburgh, Seattle, New York City, and Dallas. He knew the suburbs of Los Angeles quite well. He had never lived in a small town like Ellicott, even briefly. It filled him with an unfamiliar serenity. At first, he had hesitated taking a job in such a remote location, but now he was happy he had.

There was only one thing offered resistance to his otherwise perfect satisfaction with Ellicott. He had no place to live! Temporary housing in that small town was absurdly hard to find. Fred had arrived with several suitcases in the back of his truck, expecting to find accommodations in two or three weeks, as he typically did. Yet it would actually be more than three months before he could finally move out of his hotel room and into proper housing.

(Continued on next post....)

[edit on 12-2-2008 by Buck Division]

Each day, after work, Fred searched the town of Ellicott for apartments and rental houses. There were very few. Those that he found all demanded a year long lease. Nobody could be persuaded to rent him anything for a mere six-months. The ordeal of finding temporary housing, never pleasant, dragged on week after week, month after month!

Some people might have simply taken a full year lease and then broken it after six months. But Fred never considered that as an option, and was determined to honor any agreement he made. Pressure increased. His hotel was more than an hour away from the isolated Ellicott City, and was quite expensive. His living costs were eating up his otherwise high contract wages.

Fred persisted. After twelve weeks of struggling, he got a huge and lucky break. While pouring over the Ellicott newspaper classified advertisements (as he did every single morning) he saw a new listing. It was an odd listing.

The advertisement said, “Wanted immediately: free lodging available to house sitter for three months. Must be Christian. Must pray daily.”

Fred was not very religious. He never went to church. He never prayed. But, he still considered himself a Christian, or at least not a complete atheist! Furthermore, this looked like a perfect way – perhaps the only way – to end his housing problems. Without hesitation, he called the number in the advertisement, and made an appointment.

#

After work that day, Fred found himself drinking tea at the kitchen table across from an attractive elderly woman, whom I will call “Martha.”

They chatted amiably for a few minutes as they each explained their situations. Martha needed someone to house sit while she visited her ill sister in California. Her house sitting requirements were easy, but slightly peculiar. She had never before left Ellicott for any extended period of time. She didn’t mean to be fussy, but she needed the right type of person in her house, to watch over things.

Fred thought Martha was a bit of a religious zealot. She was from a different generation. She had lived her entire life in Ellicott. But, he forgave her small oddities. His main thought was how perfect the house was for him! It was a small house, easy to maintain, at the edge of the town next to some woods. It was only a few minutes from his office! The three-month duration was ideal!

Additionally, Fred felt a strong affinity for the house. It was gorgeous, and clean. The little items, such as the curtains and cabinets and wallpaper, spoke to him. It seemed a perfect payback for the prior three months he had spent living in that dingy and distant hotel room. The house suited him nicely!

After a period of conversation, Martha began asking probing questions. Was Fred a religious man? Did he go to church each week? Martha seemed unworried as to the particular religion he practiced, so long as it was a Christian religion. Was Fred devout? That was very important! How often did Fred pray?

Fred was quite honest, when measured against most people. But now – Fred lied profusely. He wanted that house! He needed that house badly!

“Yes, I say prayers.” He lied, unflinchingly. “I recite my prayers each morning, and every night also! I pray regularly, twice each day, often much more.”

Martha was enchanted! Excellent! Fred was just the type of person she was looking for. She spoke softly now. She realized that her requirements might be considered a bit bizarre. But, she needed someone who was religious for a very special reason, which she would now reveal, if Fred would agree to keep it confidential.

Would this bother Fred? You see -- the body of her dead father was buried in the basement.

She explained, the law was lax on this type of thing in Ellicott City. Several people in town, including her pastor, knew about this. Her father’s body had been properly embalmed. It resided in a good coffin, deep in the basement, and was covered with concrete. He had passed long ago. Was this acceptable? Knowing this weird fact, could Fred still house sit for her? She asked him hopefully, imploringly.

Hmmm. So the house was a kind of tomb! Fred felt a bit creepy. A pervasive graveyard sensation briefly flickered. It was not what he had expected. But, the house was still perfect in every other way. He brushed the unpleasant news off. It was no big deal! No problem at all! He wanted to move in as soon as possible!

Martha was overjoyed. Surely, Fred must have been sent to her by blessed providence! There was only one last minor requirement. She went to a kitchen drawer and extracted a small typewritten sheet of paper. She handed it to Fred. On the paper was short prayer. Martha explained, it was a special prayer that her pastor had prepared, especially for her deceased father. Would Fred mind, as part of his daily prayers, to say this special prayer in the house, once each day?

The prayer looked short enough. Fred recalled specifically, most of the prayer was printed phonetically. He asked about the language. Was it Latin? She said no, it was Hebrew.

Fred held the paper, looked around at the house, and reviewed his current situation. He had no compunction or doubt as to what he would do next. As honest as Fred was, he was also desperate. Certainly, he would never read that prayer. He would forget about it. Praying just wasn’t something Fred was capable of doing. But, he would lie in order to get that house!

He told Martha, of course he would read her prayer, each night, as part of his daily prayer regiment. He was pleased to say her prayer, and would do so reverently!

That next weekend, Martha left town to visit her sister for three months, and Fred happily moved in.

(Continued on next post...)

[edit on 12-2-2008 by Buck Division]

Fred was conscientious with his house sitting duties. He even made a few needed repairs, unsolicited, but which he thought Martha might like. It was a quiet and productive time for him, and he enjoyed finishing his job assignment, living in the house, and walking in the adjacent grove of trees in the evenings.

As for the prayer, as he had anticipated, he never thought about it. This obligation completely dropped from his memory. He had no idea where the original piece of paper, containing the prayer, actually was. He had probably thrown it away. He wasn’t sure. It wasn't a concern.

Weeks past.

Then one Saturday morning, he received a call from Martha. She was still in California. She seemed very nervous and upset. “How is the house? Are things all right?” she asked.

Fred could detect worry in her voice, and he tried to reassure her. He told her that things were fine! He had fixed a few things, and he proceeded to list an inventory of items, to put Martha’s worries to rest.

She interrupted him. “Fred, please tell me the truth” she said. “This is very important! The prayer. You are saying the prayer each day. Right?”

He had totally forgotten the prayer. And suddenly, after all these months, his lie came home to rest. He didn’t want to prevaricate anymore. In fact, her question made him angry. He had taken considerable care with her house! He had fixed leaks. Repaired trim and edging! And now, this old woman, this religious fanatic, would scold him like a child? For what?

Fred kept his temper, trying to speak rationally. “Martha”, he said, “I haven’t been saying your prayer. I am sure your father doesn’t care whether some complete stranger prays over his remains each day.”

There was a pause on the phone. When Martha spoke again, her voice was thin. She sounded hysterical. “I knew it!” she said. “You’ve been lying! How could you?”

Fred tried to calm her. “Martha, your father is with God. You should let him be.”

She was so distraught that she was screaming. “You don’t know anything! No! My father -- is not -- with God! My father was a -- very -- very -- evil -- man!

She abruptly hung up, leaving Fred to ponder her ominous last words.

And as he looked at her house, he noticed a number of things, in a strange revelation. The house, which had once been clean and gorgeous just weeks before, now had mold spots on the wallpaper. The windows were filthy. The curtains were covered with cobwebs. The wooden cabinets had visibly warped. And there was a persistent and bad smell to the house.

How long had it been that way? Why hadn’t he seen these things before? Quite suddenly, he realized that, despite his care, the house had deteriorated seriously in the past few weeks. Decay had set in. For some inexplicable reason, he had not noticed. Quite suddenly, Fred felt frightened.

#

Within an hour after Martha’s call, there was a knock on the door. A young man, introducing himself as Martha’s pastor, was there to evict Fred from the house.

“Martha called me, and told me what has happened," he said. "You need to leave.” The pastor added softly, “You don’t want to stay here anymore. The house is not safe for you.”

Fred didn’t need any persuasion. He was now badly shaken. During the previous hour, as he had mulled over Martha's last words to him, a dull and unreal panic had formed a knot. As he worked to pry it loose, it had only gotten tighter. He was ready to leave.

Fred quickly packed and threw his suitcases into his truck. And as he was leaving, the young pastor was standing in the middle of the living room, his head bowed, softly reciting Martha’s prayer, over and over again.

Fred left that Saturday afternoon, driving across five state lines to return to his home. The next Monday he resigned from his job over the phone, making excuses, and giving up the prior week’s pay.

He has not been back to Maryland since, nor communicated in any way with Martha. He has, however, been attending church regularly, for the first time since I’ve known him.

#

I review this story, and I feel inexplicably cold. It is a chill of fear. So many mysteries of the world can be dismissed as coincidence, or phantoms of human psychology. But there is this one part of the story. And it is the same thing that scared Fred, and may scare you as well. It is an unanswered question.

How did Martha know that Fred wasn’t saying her special prayer?

(The End)

[edit on 12-2-2008 by Buck Division]

Footnote By The Author:

Thanks for reading my above ghost story. It took about two hours to write, and I spent at least four additional hours trying to wordsmith it into place (and it is still very far from perfect.) Ouch! Such is the pain of creative writing. Now I have to move on.

Please note: this thread is posted in the Short Stories section of ATS, and is a complete fabrication from beginning to end. No part of the story is true, regardless of any implications I make at the beginning or end of the story, which I added strictly for dramatic effect. I want to make that clear, because I take the motto of ATS quite seriously, and wouldn't want this purely fictional story to reflect on any of my other posts in the more serious forums.

The only part of the story based on reality is that Ellicott City, Maryland, actually exists. The location is much as I describe it to be: beautiful, isolated, and very spooky.

Deny ignorance. Best regards!

[edit on 12-2-2008 by Buck Division]