We Only Stayed the Night

The ceilings were low in the old house and the rough sawn beams smelled strongly of ancient timber. It was Autumn and my family had elected to spend a portion of our vacation renting out a bead and breakfast on the island of Nantucket. It was upon our arrival that were were greeted, and promptly taken to tour, by the elderly couple who managed the establishment. The building itself had stood for over 250 years, we were told. It had once been converted to serve as sleeping quarters for colonial soldiers.

As we were toured through the narrow halls and stairways it became clear that many iterations of this building now stood upon each other. It could be assumed that the hart of the house, the kitchen and a small bedroom, were once all that was here. Over time numerous additions seemed to to have been created to serve one purpose or another. A collection of ersatz bedrooms, closets and pantry spaces, a larger dining area, and an additional floor had been created at one time or another thought the centuries that the home had stood.

That night after dinner, our family sat around, telling various stories and laughing. Some time before midnight, everyone began to get tired. One at a time we dismissed ourselves, wishing the others a good night until only I remained. For a moment I considered just closing my eyes and going to sleep on the large leather arm chair on which I was seated. I was quite comfortable and leaning back in the chair I yawned and stretched my arms forward.

As I sat, I became aware of the coldness of the floor. Imagining that the poorly insulated room would become insufferably cold as the night went on, and seeing that there were no blankets in the immediate vicinity, I picked myself up and headed off to my room for the night.

My room was long and narrow. There was several others like it around the house. None of them had doors, only a thick green curtain which could be pulled in front of the doorway. I stretched myself out on the thin mattress. Was this once a closet, I wondered? I laid there for a while before falling to sleep, listening to the periodic creeks and clicks of the wood and pipes of the old house.

***

Someone tugged on the back of my shirt. Not moving, and still half asleep I asked, what is it? They tugged again, two quick tugs on the back of my shirt. I rolled over to see who it was. No one was there. I sat there for a moment, becoming fully awake. I looked around and switched on the dim overhead light. Quietly standing up, I could feel the brisk nighttime coldness that had invaded the house. I slowly drew aside the curtain, half expecting to see someone standing there. There was no one. I stuck my head out, peering around the empty room before me. Had I been dreaming? I got back into bed and pulled the blankets up. No sooner had I closed my eyes, I hear a voice. A single word, cold, echoed as if it had been spoke in the room right there next to me! I sat up again, my heart beating loudly in my ears as the hair rose on the back of my neck. I sat there, not moving, listening until the unbroken silence began to make my ears ring. After about an hour I finally, leaned back and closed my eyes.

***

In the morning, everyone looked tired. When asked how I slept, I replied not well and told my story. My parents looked at each other. They too had heard something, they said that they had been woken by the sound of someone running down the hall and then head a laugh outside their room. They thought it might have been me or my brother, but clearly had been neither of us. My brother explained that he too had seen something. He said he was woken in the middle of the night when his sheets were suddenly pulled off of him. He had thought it was me playing a joke on him.

After that, we packed up and left. We spent the next night in a hotel even though we had booked the house for the whole weekend. None of use wanted to spend another night there.