Little House of Horrors

Ronnie, our real estate agent, handed us a flyer. “I think you’re really gonna like this next one,” she said. “It’s a 3/2 transitional on a cul-de-sac, woods behind, upgraded kitchen. Good schools, low HOA.” She paused to let this sink in. “And… it’s 10% below the comps.”

I looked at Sue. Things were becoming a blur in the search for our dream house. We only remembered them by oddities: Big Aquarium House. Curry Smell House. Bratty Kid House. We looked at Ten Percent Off House with interest.

Ronnie seemed strangely rushed. Usually, she liked to linger at the curb and paint a tapestry of us as the proud owners; hosting killer parties, relaxing on game day, putting in a garden. Today, none of that; instead, a rather hurried walk to the front door.

Once inside, we resumed our normal pace. We drifted from room to room, she and Sue ahead and me bringing up the rear, looking for problems. There must be some reason it was 10% cheaper than neighboring houses. But I saw no cracks, no buckling floors, no water stains. It was nicely appointed and in very good shape.

But there was some undefinable quality about it that gave me the willies. Something just seemed off.

The master bedroom was last. Big room, huge closet, amazing en suite bathroom. I looked down through the triple windows at the large front yard. This could be the one.

Ronnie cleared her throat and looked at her watch. C’mon, let’s go. It was as though she was trying to keep me from lingering too long.

As I turned, something caught my eye in the far corner of the yard, almost hidden behind a tree. It looked like two concrete boxes surrounded by a hedge.

I pointed. “What’s that?”

She pretended to consult her listing details. “Hmmm… lemme see…Oh!” she said weakly. “Those are two settlers from the 1800s.”

I thought she was kidding. We went out to the front yard for a better look. To my astonishment, the “boxes” were indeed two small moss- and mildew-covered headstones. A knee-high hedge surrounded them.

She babbled nervously. Disinterment was expensive. It was actually a cool historic feature. It gave us a house out of our budget.

All I could think of was Poltergeist.

Finally, I interrupted. “Ronnie,” I said. “You don’t honestly think there’s any way we’d buy a house with two BODIES in the front yard, do you?”

We dodged phone calls from her for the next few weeks until our contract expired and we could go with a new agent. And we did eventually find our dream home, a nice house with woods and a pond in the back.

But I’ve often wondered who ended up with Dead Body House…and if they have dishes flying out of the cupboard. Or transparent people in 1800s clothes gliding up the stairs as the lights flicker.

I don’t want to even think about Halloween