The Sallie House Haunting: A True Story (10 page)

I went on to describe a recent day in the nursery when I had been changing Taylor. He was still too little to roll off the changing table on his own, and I asked Sallie if she would help me by watching him while I stepped out of the room. When I returned, I thanked Sallie and told her she’d done a great job. Barbara excitedly said, “Oh, good, real good. Keep doing things like that.” I saw Tony’s eyes roll up and back into his head.

She urged me to continue talking and interacting with Sallie in an attempt to gain her trust. Barbara looked at Tony and urged him to do the same, but it was obvious that he was uncomfortable with the idea. She said, “I know you’ll feel funny, like you’re talking to the air, but you’re not. She really is there. People will probably laugh at you, but they don’t have to know you do it.” Tony agreed with her about the laughing part. I could tell that if he ever talked to her, it would be very rarely.

Barbara asked if Sallie had bothered the two kittens. Before I had a chance to reply, she said, “She likes them. Do they ever cry out?” I told her that up to this point I hadn’t noticed any erratic behavior or drastic change in their playfulness, but that I had honestly not been looking for any either.

Next we discussed Sallie’s ability to light fires. Barbara told us she didn’t need a lighter or matches to do so. She went on to say that Sallie traveled in or with some sort of energy field and that’s what she drew on to light the fires. Barbara stressed the fact that she lit fires, Sallie should be severely reprimanded or punished. “Perhaps send her to her room,” Barbara suggested.

I asked Barbara about the cold air I had felt several times on the stairs. “Could Sallie cause this?”

“Yes,” she said. “Spirits can bring warm air or cold air with them. Being that it is hot and muggy here, she probably brings cold air.” I told her that there was mold growing on odd things in the house, such as the pots and pans, the dog food in the bowl, the magnets on the refrigerator, and some of my Tupperware and small appliances. It was something we noticed shortly after the baby came home and had continued until about two weeks before Barbara’s arrival. She said it could be caused by the mix of Sallie’s energy and that of the house.

I remembered that several weeks before, the house has been filled with the distinct smell of cooked broccoli, although there had been no broccoli in the house. Tony had not experienced the smell. When I asked Barbara if the broccoli aroma could be from Sallie or signify her presence, she said, “Oh, sure. She could bring you the smells of things she likes.” Then she bowed her head in mental communication. “She does like broccoli. She also likes one of the perfumes you wear.” I began naming a few of the fragrances I enjoyed, hoping for a confirmation. “She might not know it by name,” Barbara said, then paused, “Pearls come to mind.” I did have an Avon perfume called Pearls and Lace that was not among those I had already named.

Barbara suggested that we gather some things together and put them out for Sallie to play with. She suggested an old pair of shoes, jewelry, clothes, etc … “But be careful what you give her. For instance, you might not want to give her high heels because you might hear the annoying click-clack of the heels on the floor. Also pick a place for her things—a shelf or box—and put them there. Tell her these things are hers to play with, but she has to put them away when she’s done so no one trips over them. She wants something to call her own, she doesn’t want to get into trouble playing with your things, she wants to play with something she knows would be safe from Mommy or Daddy saying no. Yes, that’s definitely the feeling I get from her. You’ll probably want to pick somewhere in the nursery to put her things because that’s where she spends most of her time.”

My thoughts traveled to the crayons I had left Sallie a few days earlier, and I described where they were. I asked Barbara if she liked the crayons. Barbara bowed her head again, and then said in Sallie’s tone of voice, “Yes, I like the crayons. I’m trying to do it.” Then, in her own voice, “She’s trying to work it up, trying to find a way to do it, to answer you.” I had not yet mentioned that I had asked Sallie to draw me a picture or answer the question I’d written for her. I was impressed, and mentioned that three days prior I had written a question asking how old she was.

We discussed the possibility that maybe Sallie was too young to have known how to write and that her inability to read might also be making her response difficult. Perhaps it was too hard to focus enough energy to form the letters. Barbara said, “She might still do it, it might just take her a while.”

I thought how interesting it would be if Sallie and I could communicate on a regular basis through writing or pictures. I thought of how much I, and others interested in the paranormal, could learn!

We asked whether Sallie was in the bedroom with us when we slept. Barbara answered with a definite “yes.” Then she stressed that the baby should continue to sleep in the same room with us for as long as possible or until we could get Sallie acquainted with what was right and wrong. If Sallie were a physical person, it would naturally be a great concern to leave someone so young alone with a newborn baby. A child spirit was no different, and although Barbara was trying not to alarm us, she wanted us to understand that accidents can and do happen.

Because Sallie was new to the family and perhaps to a newborn baby, we couldn’t trust her not to play too roughly with him. Did she know that she shouldn’t lift him or push the swing too hard? Barbara was trying to tell us that Sallie needed to find out where and how she fit in with us before having freedom to be with the baby. I wondered how I would stop her and hoped my presence in the room would deter any questionable or risky activity on her part.

George asked Barbara if Sallie would do things while other people were around or in the house. Barbara responded that Sallie might do so, but would be more comfortable with the family and thus more likely to do things around us. Then, as if jumping into the conversation via Barbara, Barbara spoke in Sallie’s childlike voice and said, “I’ll show off for your friends if you want.”

The idea that Sallie had just voluntarily communicated something to us made us feel as though she was already starting to feel more comfortable. From her statement, I could tell she liked attention—what little girl doesn’t?

I asked Barbara if she knew why Sallie had picked the time during my sister’s visit to make her presence known to us, and why she did the things she was doing. “Well, if she just floats through doors and walls,” Barbara said, “you don’t know she’s there. She wants to be noticed; she wants your attention and love. Maybe she felt comfortable with your sister, or maybe she wanted someone else to witness her antics and know she was here.” I wondered if Sallie saw how much love and attention the new baby was getting from us and Karen, and in jealousy acted out for her own portion of attention. Barbara looked at Tony and said, “You need to make friends with her, too.” I could tell Tony was thinking, “Yeah, right. I’m not going to talk to something floating above my head.”

We asked about the time in which Sallie lived, and Barbara admitted that she was not very good at determining that sort of thing; she really had no answer for us. Tony started to tell her about a dream he’d had the night before, in which Sallie and a boy named Jonathan were sitting against a tree in the yard. Sallie was calling the boy by name and had her arm stretched out while pointing to something. Tony, being an excellent sketch artist, had drawn what he’d seen in his dream, and he shared the drawing with Barbara. Sallie was wearing a blue dress and had long chestnut hair. The boy was wearing knickers. Barbara said, “That’s a very good likeness of her.” As we continued to discuss the fashions depicted in the drawing, we concluded that Sallie might have lived in the late 1930s or early 1940s. Barbara made reference to the fact that Tony’s dream could have been the manifestation of Sallie’s consciousness. In other words, it might have been something Sallie was trying to show him.

To this day, we have not yet been able to figure out who Jonathan was. We have wondered if he was the reason Sallie was so attached to Taylor. Had Jonathan been a younger relative when she was alive, or just a friend? In the end, there was no confirmation from Barbara or Sallie on any of it.

About an hour into the visit, we offered to take Barbara to the nursery, thinking that if Sallie spent most of her time up there, maybe Barbara could get a stronger feeling in that area. She responded eagerly. Her sister opted to stay downstairs, and said she would keep a lookout.

Carrying the baby in my arms, I went up first, followed by Barbara and the rest. George brought the video camera, and Tony had the Polaroid, which he later exchanged for the 35mm camera. Shortly after stepping into the room, I started to feel claustrophobic and it was hard to breathe. It was as if there wasn’t enough oxygen for all of us. I had never felt so weird, and in my perplexed state, I turned around to look at Barbara.

Throughout her visit, I had watched her intently her in an attempt to understand her and what was being presented. In my skepticism, I was desperately trying to read her movements and mannerisms. I noticed now that Barbara’s breath had become labored. She pointed to the northwest corner of the room and said, “That’s her corner.” She paused, and then, still looking at the corner, said, “She’s standing right there.” George moved in closer with the camera and Tony took two pictures of the corner while Barbara and I continued to talk.

Near the same corner sat a ten-gallon glass water bottle, which had been decorated and was used as the baby’s savings bank. Visitors would often empty their pocket change into it. Rodney recalled the first time he had been in the room and doing just that. He remembered walking over to deposit his change and feeling a really strange cold sensation. “Well, that’s her spot,” Barbara said. George asked if Sallie was still in the room with us. Barbara said firmly, “Oh, yes, she’s here.”

Barbara was still breathing heavily, and I became concerned for her. I wasn’t sure if this was normal for her after climbing the stairs or a side effect of communicating with spirits. Tony asked if she was okay. “Yes, I’m all right,” she said, in a preoccupied voice.

I asked her to relay to Sallie that I was happy she’d talked with Barbara. “Yeah,” she responded in Sallie’s tone of voice. Then Barbara added in a bossy, childlike way, “Too many people! Get out!” Everyone except for Barbara, the baby, and me exited the room and positioned themselves just outside the door in order to keep within earshot of the conversation.

Almost immediately, Barbara’s breathing improved. Feeling better, she took a few steps towards the end of the crib again. Pointing to Sallie’s corner, she said, “That’s where you’ll want to put her things.” Sallie was happy with the plans for her corner, as Barbara smiled and said in a childish manner, “Oh, good!”

I asked, “Is she happy you came to talk with her?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said and went on to explain. “At first, when we all came into the room, I felt a tremendous pressure on my chest; I had to tell myself to ‘breathe, breathe’!”

Still standing at the door, Rodney described how weird it was that he’d felt claustrophobic as well. Barbara interjected, “It was Sallie’s way of telling us this is her room and ‘you all just get out of here’.” With a quick jerk of her head, as if she had some sort of neurological tick, she explained that Sallie had just corrected her, saying “
Our
room.” We continued to listen to what seemed like Barbara in a one-sided conversation. “Yes, yes … that’s okay.” We all thought about what we could only imagine this little girl was saying. I thought it precocious that this little ghost girl had such conviction about what she wanted and believed was hers by right.

Barbara smiled, “She’s really happy with this. She’s happy I talked to you, and she’ll be good, but she forgets.” Then, with what was clearly deep adoration, in words that resonate with me to this day, Barbara said, “She’s a lovely child, a very pretty little girl.”

I told Barbara that at one point during my pregnancy, I had hoped for a girl. Barbara was quick to interject with a scared, childlike voice and said, “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, he’s okay.” Obviously, Sallie really liked her little brother, Taylor! “She knew when you moved into the house that you were pregnant and having a boy,” Barbara said, “and she loves him dearly.”

Sallie apparently told Barbara, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good,” but we only heard Barbara say, “Yeah, we know,” as if she was tired of listening to Sallie say the same thing over and over. Barbara asked Sallie if there was anything else she wanted to say. “I forget,” she said with a childlike air of sadness and shame. As we left the nursery Barbara looked back several times, all the while smiling contentedly, with a sense of closure. “She’s fine with this. She’s okay now.”