You’ll recall that I wrote about the old home place in John’s family in which he and I lived throughout the first several years of our marriage. Well, as I said, from time to time something would happen that would unnerve us ever so slightly. This was one of those times.
Our bedroom was located on the first floor at the rear of the house. One night, John and I were both awakened simultaneously from a deep sleep by the sound of a large crash originating from the attic, which was located above our room and ran the entire length of the house. Once fully awake, which happened quite rapidly I might add, we both sat up listening to something very large and very heavy being moved across the wooden attic floor. The only thing of any great weight in the attic at that time was an old black trunk with leather straps that held law books which had once belonged to John’s great uncle. We agreed it would be best to check things out in the bright sunshine of morning. After locking our bedroom door, we eventually went back to sleep. I’m pretty sure the rest of my slumber took place beneath the covers.
The next morning brought with it an investigation. But when the attic door was opened nothing was found out of place. Not the old trunk nor the dust on the floor surrounding it.
Today, the trunk in question resides in our media room. And, thankfully, there have been no other unexplained incidents involving it, though I was just telling John how funny it would be to get someone to hide in it and jump out on our friends the next time we happen to tell its story. I think that would be deliciously sneaky.
P.S. John and I took off today to go with John-Heath and his little kindergarten buddies on their field trip to the pumpkin patch. Once we returned home a nap was in order -for us, not him. It's been a lonnng time since we last attended a field trip with 5-year-olds. I'll post pictures soon.
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