One of my favorite things about traveling is finding the unexpectedly fascinating location. I travel a good deal and have stayed in many rental houses and hotels, on a rare occasion one of them is really interesting. On my recent trip down to the Gulf for Mardi Gras, we got lucky and our rental house was interesting.
I am not scared by much. I can wander cemeteries alone and sleep in haunted places with my two boys by myself. I've walked the streets of Detroit alone at night. I am more fascinated by the history than scared by actual things, but our rental house on this trip scared me at times. It was a strange, cold place with a wall of open windows and view out onto a dark and lonely beach. The rental was typical of Mobile. Mobile, Alabama is a city where extreme poverty is a problem. Like it's sister city, New Orleans, the poor are everywhere and there are poor neighborhoods spread out throughout the city. Mobile also has wealth in pockets and the juxtaposition of this wealth with this poverty is extreme.
The house we stayed in was a perfect example of this. We had to drive past houses that were on cinder blocks and houses with eviction notices nailed to the door to get to the Bay where our lonely beauty stood coldly leaning into the soft earth. The house didn't fit in. It didn't belong where it was. There was nothing around it for a block and all around that block there was poverty. The house itself was beautiful, but cold. It seemed impossible to heat the house sufficiently. Nothing worked. There was no phone lines. It was too perfect and utterly isolated.
We slept fine the first night and the first day we went out. When we came back all the TV's were on. I called the realtor to see if anyone else had the key. She knew of no one and asked if I wanted her to call the police. I said no and as I was feeling ill, I went to bed while everyone else went out. When I awoke, things had been moved. My medicine was gone. There was a plunger on top of the toilet. I had been the only one in the house. Worse than all this, I felt ill at ease in the cold and elegant rental. I was uncomfortable being alone. I felt like I was being watched.
The next night our group size increased and by sheer numbers the ill ease left. The children decided to play with my ghost hunting kit and the EMF lit up like a Christmas tree. Closets with no electricity, the china cabinet, and odd corners all seemed to contain ghosts. The children laughed and played and the adults drank and the ghosts didn't ruin anyone's fun, but this strange house on the lonely shore of the bay in Mobile was certainly the first haunted place where I actually felt a little off put.
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