I frowned and took a small step back. “You’re not going to hurt him are you?”
“The cat?” Adam laughed. “No, honey.” He stood up and kissed me. “Never.”
That night, I slept fitfully. I don’t remember if it was dreams or nightmares, but I woke up in a cold sweat. Something was stinking. Putrid and rotten, like rancid garbage left out for days.
“Adam?” I shook my sleeping husband. “Adam, something stinks.”
I switched on the light and sat up. Simon was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring intently at me. I shook Adam again.
“Damn it, what?” Adam yelled enraged. He had never yelled at me like that before.
“Don’t you smell that?” I asked him, startled by his reaction.
“I smell nothing,” he growled. “Leave me alone.” He madly pulled the covers back over his head and ignored me.
I could not stand the smell and went out to the living room. I checked the garbage and the refrigerator in the kitchen, but the smell was gone. I wrapped up in a blanket on the couch and flicked on the television. Simon jumped up beside me, kneaded himself a spot on my belly, and purred himself to sleep.
I woke up to the sun breaking through the sides of the curtain. I stirred and, half-awake, glanced around, remembering where I was. I stretched and padded off to the bedroom. I stopped almost halfway. The temperature in the air had suddenly dropped. I was not imagining this. That smell. Again. What was going on? The bedroom door was shut. I did not remember closing it.
Slowly, I opened the door. And screamed. My husband, my beloved Adam, was hanging from the ceiling fan, our bed sheet used as a noose. His tongue was lolled out of his mouth, and his face was blue.
The paramedics told me that he had been dead for hours. That he must have hung himself right after I left the room. I cried and cried and told the detective that it just didn’t make any sense. He was very patient with me and allowed my hysterics to run their course.
“Had Adam been depressed at all?” the detective asked.
“No, not at all. We … we were going to start a family.”
“Anything going on at work? Other family troubles?”
“Nothing. Adam had just landed a big promotion. Everything was going so well. That is why we moved out here. We just bought this house. None of this makes sense. He would never do this.” I began sobbing again. He handed me another handful of Kleenex, and I nodded gratefully. Simon jumped up beside me, rubbed my arm, and sat down.
“Is the cat yours?” he asked.
“Well, yes. He sort of came with the house. Adam didn’t care for him much, but he took a quick fancy to me. He’s sweet.” I sniffed, rubbing his soft head.
“I see. OK, well, if you need anything. Please call.” He handed me a business card and walked out of the room. I almost forgot to ask him where Adam was going to be taken. I got up off the couch and followed him out of the living room toward the hallway.
“Yeah, Lieutenant. I’m just finishing up here over at the house on Hillwood.” The detective was on the phone. I stood quietly behind him waiting for him to finish.
“I know how it sounds,” he continued. “But the last suicide here? Almost identical. She even said the same words. ‘The cat sort of came with the house. My husband didn’t like him, but I did.’ Weird, huh?”
I felt a sudden chill in the air. I looked down and Simon was rubbing up against my leg.
I lived next door to a feisty old lady who was in her mid to late seventies. I would always see her out in her yard working in the garden and got to know her quite well. Her name was Doris and her husband had passed almost ten years ago, but she carried on without living in the depression that many older people do when their spouse died. Almost every day she would bring me cookies, or cakes, or whatever she’d baked that day which became quite a habit for me, and if she didn’t come for a couple of days I got sugar withdrawals. It became a joke between us which she thought was funnier than hell. I admired her carrying on like she did and living life to the fullest even though she was alone. I think that’s why she did so much for me; it gave her something to do besides just gardening as well as someone to talk to.
It was around ten thirty in the evening and I was about ready to hit the sack but I usually took a peek at her place every night just to see if everything seemed to be OK. I was going to my window to look at her house when I heard a scream and her bedroom light popped on. I got goose bumps listening and went over to see what was going on. After knocking on her door for what seemed like five minutes, she opened it and let me in. She looked relieved that I was there but I could tell she was still shaken up. I led her to the couch and sat down in the easy chair across from her.
When I sat down and looked at her, waiting for her to say something, I noticed she looked a lot calmer. I waited but she just looked at me, I think waiting for me to ask her what happened, so I did.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, I’ll be fine. Besides, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
That was a curious answer so I said, “Try me.”
As if daring me to say anything too contrary, she answered, “I saw a ghost!”
I had to smile at that. “Really? You sure you weren’t just dreaming?”
“I know what I saw, young man. I may be old but
