by Jude Coyle

Created on: July 28, 2009   Last Updated: November 15, 2009

My friends, Jeff and Mary, purchased a home on the south side. The houses in that neighborhood are old and creepy looking, but no less than theirs was. This was their first home and they had gotten a heck of a deal. It had an unrented upstairs apartment, too.

Before moving in, Mary showed me where she would hang the Tiffany style lamps she found on sale at Walmart. They were colorful and she wanted to place one at either end of her white sofa. Pocket doors separated the living room from the dining room. Mary wanted to refinish them and the thick old molding. She showed me where the baby would sleep, too. This was just off the dining room, in what she said used to be a formal sitting room. She even showed me how to get to the upstairs apartment.

While we inspected the ground floor, Jeff and several friends cleaned the basement. The previous owners left behind tons of garbage. Jeff said they found old clothes, antiques, newspapers, food wrappers, cigarette butts and moldy old books. They bagged almost everything and lugged it up the outside steps, and dragged it to the curb. Garbage pick up was the next morning.

Michael and Sid sat on the bottom inside step, and Jeff joined them. Jeff drew a cigarette from his pack and loaded it between his lips. He lit a match, and a gust of wind blew it out. Sid pulled out a Bic, and Michael pulled out a Zippo. The lighters blew out, too. Thinking no more of it, the group went upstairs, into the heat, to grab a cold soda.

My friends introduced their big Shepard mix, Max, to his new home on moving day. Once through the front door, Max focused on something in the center of room. He growled and tried to back out the door. Jeff wrapped the dog's leash around his hand and hung on with all his might. Finally Max relented. He found a corner and laid down. Every so often, he'd lift his chin from his paws and growl.

Almost immediately, weird things happened. The scissors disappeared from the kitchen drawer, as did the screw driver Jeff set on the kitchen table. Mary said she found the same scissors on her dresser later, and Jeff found his screw driver in the freezer when he went for ice cubes.

"What were you using my scissors for?" Mary demanded.

"You couldn't just leave something sit for five minutes? I was coming right back for it," Jeff cried, waving his screwdriver.

The argument ended when the TV turned itself on. Max covered his eyes with his paws and whimpered.

Before long, TV's and radios acted on their own accord, turning Oprah

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