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Just Old Pipes?

My experience took place about 5 years ago in a town north of Boston, Mass. It involves my grandparents' home. They were not the original owners, although some of their children were born (one died as an infant) there, and they lived together in that house for over 50 years. This story requires a long introduction, so bear with me.

In their last years, my grandmother fell and broke her hip. She recuperated in a nursing home but longed to return home. The only bathroom and the bedrooms were on the second floor of the house. So, they gave away their dining room furniture and their bedroom set was brought down into the dining room. Part of the front porch was converted into a small bathroom, known after that as ‘nana’s powder room’. This accomplished, my grandmother returned home to my grandfather.

One uncle also lived in the house with them. He had been in the service, went traveling and regularly went on hunting and fishing trips, but never had an apartment or house of his own and always returned to his bedroom upstairs.

My parents built a house next door to my grandparents. So, growing up and for the first 20 years of my life, I was in my grandparents’ home daily. After both my grandparents passed away, I was not in the house again for the next 20 years. My uncle chose to remain in the house (with the family’s blessing). He never had children, was gruff and kept rather fierce-looking dogs once he was alone, and I was a little afraid of him. He accepted an occasional invitation to dinner, but I was never invited into the house.

One day while he was out with friends, he suffered a heart attack and died. A relative who worked for a vet came and took his dogs, and I volunteered to help clean out his home. My parents and surviving aunts and uncles were all-elderly and welcomed the offer. Since I live close by, it was a simple matter to walk over and help out. It was February, cold here in New England.

I was unprepared for the state of the house. Well, of course, he lived alone and always had a dog or dogs running about, but the house was so dirty. He had smoked for years and the walls were grey from smoke and dust. There were actual cobwebs wrapped around the banister leading upstairs. He was into refunding and coupons, so there were piles of boxes and papers everywhere. Although he slept upstairs, he had left my grandparents’ bedroom furniture in the dining room all this time. The bed and all surrounding surfaces were piled high with bags and boxes of things.

I started in the kitchen, since he had left his last dishes sitting on the table. Just to clean the dishes, I had to empty out and scrub the sink and a large spider took off running when I scoured the dish drainer. It was filthy.

Each day when I went over, my mother (whose brother this was) or one of my aunts or uncles was already there. Or, I would go in with my mother. It took me several days just to clear through the clutter in the kitchen to get down to cleaning it. They spent most of their time trying to sort through the papers he kept and claiming various items special to them.

One of my cousins expressed an interest in buying the house, so we wanted to clear it out for him and his young family. The house needed (still needs) lots of work!

Soon my elderly relatives were just too tired to continue cleaning and I was asked to go on my own. No problem. My mother gave me a key, and I went over very early one Saturday morning, planning to work the entire day.

As I opened the door, the first thing I noticed was that the house smelled like my grandparents’ house again. You know, how houses each have a distinct smell? Where before, the house had smelled musty; today the memory of the house as it had been was instantly renewed. I welcomed this, believing it meant we’d made progress through the dirt and were bringing the house back to its former state.

I turned up the heat and wandered about for a few minutes, deciding where to begin. As I stood in the dining room/bedroom, I noticed that the bed was pushed up against a built in china closet. I could see through the glass in the doors that there were items in the closet, so I decided to clear it out.

It was an effort to move that bed! It was large and heavy and I don’t think it had been moved in 20 years – seemed to be rooted to the spot. Opening the china closet, I was surprised at how clean the items were. I don’t know if this means it was airtight, or if it was clean because it hadn’t been opened.

The first thing I saw was a set of very clean dentures. I don’t know whose they were but I got a trash bag and dropped them in. They had been sitting on a perfect paper doily, which crumbled in my hand. Sad! On each shelf in the cabinet were different pieces of china and porcelain, each sitting on paper doilies? As I say, they were all relatively clean. I decided to bring everything into the kitchen, wash it all carefully, and leave the items on the counter for my family.

I first removed a large bowl and carried it to the kitchen. I set it down on the counter and started back to the closet. It was then that I was surprised to hear water running. The sound was coming from ‘nana’s powder room’. I went in and, sure enough, water was just trickling from the faucets. It’s an old-fashioned style sink with a hot and cold water tap. I turned each off and stood there for a minute to be sure they no longer dripped. My thought was, “Great! That’s all I need. I didn’t notice there was water running and my mother (or others) would think I was very careless to have left water running.”

I hadn’t turned on any water in the house.

I returned to the china closet, removed two plates, and carried those to the kitchen. Just as I set them down on the counter, I again heard water running. Not just a trickle this time, but running water. I went to the bathroom and, sure enough, the water was running from both taps with the force you’d use if you were washing your hands. Also, the little rubber stopper was in the drain and the sink was filling. I turned off the water and just looked at the sink for a minute. Had the stopper been in the sink before and I didn’t notice? Odd that I hadn’t noticed before. So, this time, I took the stopper and put it up on a shelf above the sink. I just stood watching the faucets and tested them again. I don’t know why, but I looked in the mirror and said aloud, “Okay. That water is off. Now, if it comes on again you and I both know someone’s trying to tell me something.” What an odd thing to say to myself, as though my reflection was another person! I waited a bit, the water didn’t come back on and I went back to the china closet.

All at once, something changed. As I stood looking into the closet, I had the most awful feeling that someone was standing behind me and that, if I turned, someone would be there. Goosebumps or hair standing on end, however you describe it, I was terrified. And frozen. I just stood there listening to the blood pound in my ears. Although it was winter, the sun was shining brightly and I just glanced to my left to look out at the sunny day. I gave a sigh, then a louder one, and literally shook myself and swung my arms about. Telling myself I was being ridiculous, I was able to shrug the feeling off. I tried to hum or sing, about all that came out was a bit of a squawk. I plunged my hands into the china closet and picked up a large and heavy porcelain platter. I marched into the kitchen and almost dropped the plate, just barely catching it against my body and the counter, as the sound of rushing water again came from that bathroom.

I whirled around in a panic. Standing in the doorway from the kitchen to the dining room, you had to walk straight ahead until the bathroom door is at a 90-degree angle on your right. You can’t see into the bathroom until you turn to go in. What I could see was water ‘spraying’ out the door, the force of the water was that hard. Also steam, the water was that hot!

Well, no psychic investigator me, I started sobbing. I picked up the phone, which was still connected, and called home. I have no husband, just kids. I wailed into the phone as soon as someone answered that I was frightened because I couldn’t shut off the water. Both teenaged sons came running over and I met them at the door. As I explained my fright, the younger of the two rejoiced at the thought of a ghost in the house. The older rushed past me to turn off the water. I was immediately afraid for him and hurried after him. What kind of mother was I to call on my children to save me?!

He was coming out of the bathroom, one sleeve-soaking wet. “That water was hot!” The look on my face really annoyed him. “It’s just old pipes!” he scolded. “Stop being so silly!” I grasped his arm and asked, “What about the stopper?” “Stopper?” he said, “oh, well, the sink was full and I had to pull it out.” I peered into the bathroom, water droplets on the floor and the wall, to see the stopper sitting in the sink. Still holding his arm (for security? I’m so ashamed to admit it) I picked up the stopper, opened the little bathroom cupboard, threw it inside and closed the door.

My other son was chuckling; this was great fun to him. “Let’s go,” my older son said, frowning at me. “It’s just OLD PIPES,” he repeated. I was still crying and shaking. I turned down the heat and went to get my jacket when I noticed the door to the china cabinet was now closed and the little wooden knob turned to keep it shut. “Who shut the china closet?” I asked. Both boys looked at me. “You mean the bathroom closet?” the younger one asked. “No, this closet” I started to explain as I reached out to touch the door. Suddenly, we heard something fall from somewhere in the house and both boys set off to see what it was. One insisted it came from upstairs, the other said the sound came from the basement. “I just want to go home!” I wailed.

Neither boy found anything amiss and, as I called them to come back, they both rejoined me at the front door. As we headed out, I again heard the sound of running water. All three of us went back to the bathroom (me at the rear) as they each took turns testing the taps and speculating. “Okay,” I said VERY loudly, “we’re all leaving,” and I marched them out the door.

Late that afternoon, I got a call from my mother – very annoyed that I hadn’t kept my promise to work on the house. She’s a no-nonsense kind of mom and would not have been pleased to hear my explanation. I begged off with the lie of menstrual cramps and sat trying to think. I called the only person I was sure wouldn’t laugh at me … my oldest sister. After telling her what had happened, she asked simply “So what are you going to do?” Well, I decided to go to the house in the morning and tell “it” who I was and what I was doing there.

The next morning I did just that. I got up very early and let myself in. As I went inside, very self-conscious of what I was doing, I called out, “Hello, It’s me … it’s (name), (name)’s daughter. Hello? I’m just here to clean the house.” No one was there. No one answered. Nothing happened. I closed the door and walked into the dining room/bedroom. I felt so foolish, but I repeated the same thing four or five times, adding more, basically telling “the house” (or whatever!) that my uncle had died, that (name) was coming to live in the house with his family and he was going to take care of the house from then on.

After a bit, I no longer felt uneasy. I sorted through other things but I didn’t go near the china closet. In fact, I pushed the bed back up against it. I washed the few items I had first removed, but that was all. Every so often, I repeated aloud who I was and what I was doing there. My mother soon joined me and I made a point of referring to her as “Mom” several times in our conversation. The water did not come back on and I didn’t mention it.

Someone else cleared out the china closet later that week; I think it was my mother and her sister. I noticed on a return visit that it was empty and I didn’t ask about it.

That’s all. My cousin and his family moved into the house and have been there about five years. I asked if he’d had any plumbing problems, especially with the downstairs bathroom, and he said no.

The only problem was that the china closet was stuck fast for months. They couldn’t get it open until my surviving uncle did some work on the house and opened it with no trouble.

~~~ magali �