A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY
A story from my book: Ghosts Psychics Spirits


Bedtime is quiet time at our house, which is home to my wife and myself and our large extended family. It's a very old house, as houses go even for Nova Scotia, which prides itself on bringing it's past into the future through its architecture.

As the man of the house I am traditionally the last to bed, and the night of September 18, 2000 was no different than any other night.

Preparations were all the same, the clothes were hung up, and the morning clothes were laid out. I glanced around the room, all was normal, blinds were pulled, and the furniture was off to the side. I got in bed and fell fast asleep, at least for awhile.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, my wife was still fast asleep beside me but it was like a cold chill had come into the room. I slowly opened my listless eyes without moving my body. There sitting in what should have been an empty chair beside the bed was an elderly gentleman. He wore a brown suit complete with vest. He just sat there.

My heart pounded faster and a cold sweat broke out over my whole body. He appeared to stare out over the bed and took no notice of me. Fear of the unknown seized me, I didn't know what to do. Should I say something or should I keep quiet? I froze not knowing how to react. As I watched, I became worried that this must be some kind of forerunner and mentally tried to figure who it was I knew that would die. I am not sure how much time passed but the old man slowly disappeared in front of my eyes.

I woke my wife to tell her. The only response I got was, "Not now," and then she rolled over and went back to sleep. The man had disappeared although the chair remained. I felt braver, it would keep til morning.

As much as I tried to sleep, I couldn't. My mind kept going over and over the same question, "who will die?"

It turned out the elderly fellow was not a forerunner but a ghost in our house. I talked to my mother about it and she confirmed the apparition's existence. I asked why I hadn't been told before. My mother's reply was, "There was never a need to know". According to her, many had seen him over the years and he was always quiet and unobtrusive - except for a couple of occasions.

One night we were discussing him with neighbors who happened to come over. They were quick to note that they never believed in ghosts. In their opinion only crazy people would talk such nonsense. At that moment precisely, the door to the kitchen swung open on its own and we viewed the still darkness outside. Then like a clap of thunder and a mighty roar the then inert door slammed shut.

Our neighbors asked: "What the Sam Hill caused that?"

I of course replied, "The ghost must have taken exception to you calling us crazy."

The expression on their faces registered their concerns as the conversation quickly turned to other things.

Silence would always be his trade mark, or so I thought. He was seen over time by all our family members. My daughters were never scared of him but always asked for his name. My wife thought he reminded her of Ralph a relative of hers so she dubbed him Ralph. Thus he became known as Ralph within our household.

One night my daughter awoke to see Ralph sitting on the chair beside the bed. She did not experience the fear I had felt during my sighting so she decided to satisfy her curiosity. "Ralph what are you doing here?"

"Don't call me Ralph!," he replied with a look of determination on his face. "I don't like it." Our daughter jumps up out of bed and came running to our bedroom, waking us.

"Mom and Dad guess what, his name is not Ralph," she blurted out, still excited that the apparition had finally said something.

Of course, by the time I got to my daughter's bedroom he was gone. That was the only time I knew he ever broke his silence. I have often wondered over the years if I should have spoken to him that first night he entered our bedroom.

Today he seems to be a part of the house and he sits like a guardian spirit watching us from time to time as we sleep.

Will we ever find out the story behind his ghostly presence?

I don't know, but as my mother would say, perhaps, "In time, on a need to know basis only."



Bill McTague aka, fiddlehead bill
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