When I start trying to save something, roadblocks creep up in my path for me to stumble upon. I try to find my way around them, but then there seem to be more. It is somewhat like living in a computer gameexcept that this is real. And the challenges are usually just those normal daily things that seem to bug us all.
Not really knowing where to look, and having no luck with the contacts I had made thus far, I began to research the history of the old house. I started out at the library, sorting through newspaper clippings, wondering exactly what I was looking for. My vague idea was that maybe I would find something about the house that could be used to save it.
I found clippings that talked of drive-in theaters, trolley tracks and schools (that were nearly 40 years old now) being built. It was a fascinating trip down a path of memories that were not mine. I was too young, after all. I even found an article on my apartment complex being built. But I found nothing about the house in question.
I next consulted the town hall, finding only some minor, useless information, since the records they had only dated back to the 1940s, for some strange reason.
Troubled with the little information I had come across, I decided to look back on my own childhoodwell, on my teenage years anyway. What did I remember about those times we had gone to the haunted house?
There had to be something in my memories that would help.
I grew up on Scooby Doo, with a love of spooky places-weren't they always in the cartoons? Colleen and I used to pass that house on our way to and from school. We always reflected what a neat old home it was, even though it looked forlorn and in need of a loving touch. During our high school years, the old house had become more of a temptation-a Dare. Karl, a high school friend with a penchant for daring his friends, decided one day that it would be our turn to visit the place in person. He dared Colleen and me to go inside, while he and half-a-dozen of our friends watched.
I felt a little strange entering a place that wasn't ours, but at the same time, I was not going to lose the dare! So, after climbing through a broken window, careful not to cut ourselves on the glass around the edges, I suggested to Colleen that we give the watchers outside a scare.
"Okay, who thinks they can scream better?" I asked her.
She grinned back. "Remember the gerbil," she said.
