HAUNTED CARPET

THE HAUNTED CARPET

The events you are about to read are real. I deal only with
facts?that's a fact!

Morning brought an amazing discovery. I stared in amazement at my
living room floor. It was amazing. I was amazed. Get the picture?

When I went to bed the night before, the hump in the carpet baffled me,
but now it had more than doubled in size. I wondered how this could be
happening? I heard no unusual noises during the night. No alarms went
off. None of my booby traps exploded. No one else but I was there. Was
I walking in my sleep? Did I do this bizarre deed?

As a boy I had sleepwalking occasions where I found myself ready to pee
on my parents bedroom floor. My father always saved me from
embarrassment by shouting, "HEY! What are you doing?" The accumulative
shocks from those awakenings apparently squelched my sleepwalking
tendencies, and diverted them to my bedwetting tendencies?at least
that's what my therapist said. Just to be sure I checked the room for
wet spots and found none. With mixed emotions I eliminated myself as
the only suspect in a most unusual chain of events. I stared at the
hump and wondered where it would end.

It all started about two months ago?at least that's when I noticed it.
The mobile home I live in is rather old, but sturdy. High winds, rain,
floods and other destructive forms of nature have no effect on it. It
is built well.

There are two doors, the front being the main entrance. To the right is
a bedroom I use for storage, (actually it is my computer room but I
don't want anybody to know I have a computer. I understand they are
high-theft items.) The door itself opens into the living room. Beyond
is the kitchen. Beyond that a hallway which passes the bathroom prior
to entering the master bedroom. Just before the bedroom, on the left,
is the rear door that opens into an addition.

My "shoebox estate" is furnished well for a single person. Along the
wall between the computer room and living room is a nice sofa. I prefer
to sit on the stuffed swivel chair placed just to the left of the
entrance, beside a lamp and end table. My television sits on a cabinet
in a corner diagonal to the chair. Directly across the room from the
chair is a double window. In front of that my stereo unit sits on a
two-drawer oak cabinet. Wall to wall carpeting occupies the living room
floor as well as both bedrooms. In the middle of the living room floor,
atop the carpeting, is an area rug. I'm not an expert but it's one of
those stiff polyester rugs with a firm backing. It's sturdy. Nothing
like the kind of throws that are always getting "kicked up". It lies by
itself in the middle of the room, unrestricted, free to roam.

As I said it was about two months ago that I started to notice
peculiarities. I had placed the area rug about two inches from the oak
cabinet. The next thing I knew it would be against the cabinet. At
first I thought nothing of it and merely pulled it away thinking I must
have caused it to move while walking on it. This happened several
times. I soon found myself reaching down and repositioning the rug on a
daily basis. After a few weeks of this I recognized a pattern of
abnormalities and started to become "concerned".

I considered the manner in which I walk. I do not drag my feet, or
scuff my steps. Maybe there was something to my stride I was unaware
of? I became aware! I grew attentive to my crossings of the rug and
stepped very gently, always straight down and straight up. There was no
movement of the carpet whatsoever. I've even tried to move it on
purpose by stepping abruptly and scuffing it with my feet and pushing.
I was unable to do so. I was satisfied the carpet was not being moved
by me. I deal only with facts?that's a fact!

I watched it. For several days I stared at it without blinking. It
never moved. Each time I tired of the staring duel and fell asleep I'd
awaken to find it once again beside the cabinet as though it were
magnetized?yet never when I watched. I decided to see what would happen
if I did not pull it back.

I went out of town for a couple of days and left it alone. When I
returned I stood before the entrance, afraid to open it. When I finally
did my eyes bulged as I saw the sight before me. Not only had the rug
moved to the cabinet, it actually crept up the side of it. I measured
with a ruler. The edge of the rug was three inches off the floor.

I asked myself if that was normal activity for a carpet. Maybe in the
Arabian Nights, but not reality. Rugs don't move by themselves. Maybe
it was bugs? I threw back the carpet and looked under it?nothing. No
bugs, no ants, no cockroaches, nothing. There was no living thing at or
around the scene causing it to move?so it had to be something
else?that's a fact!

I thought of vibrations. There were many other things on the floor,
some of them smaller and lighter than the rug. None of them shifted.
Nothing moved except the carpet. Maybe the floor was slanted? I placed
a level all over it in every direction. Each time it was right on the
bubble.

I stood back and looked at the situation thinking of ideas. "Ok!" I
said, "If you want to go to the cabinet?I'll put you by the cabinet!" I
realize it was strange behavior to talk to a rug, but who's going to
know, right?

The cabinet was heavy but I was able to lift it and tilt it backwards.
I balanced it with one hand and pulled the rug back with the other?but
not all the way. I positioned it so that when I lowered the cabinet
about an inch remained under it. "Ha Ha! There is no way you are going
to move under the weight of that cabinet!" I declared in an aura of
triumph. The carpet had nothing to say and I gazed smugly as it laid
there in defeat.

That was the night before last. I slept well that evening. Even the
occasional drip of a water faucet did not disturb me, for I rested with
a sense of resolution and satisfaction. I found it to be a false
conclusion. The next day brought a horrific discovery that left me
questioning the complexities and balances of the universe. A hump had
risen in the rug due to its inability to move under the cabinet. The
rest of it pushed. Having nowhere to go, the area by the cabinet rose.
It was quite sizable and impossible to ignore. I looked at it and
questioned my sanity?was I losing my mind? I had lost it before, but
never like this. This was absurd, bizarre, and unreal! This defied the
laws of physics?at least the ones on Earth.

I realized this was something bigger than me?something Really Big! The
voices in my head told me to trust no one, but I knew I had to tell
somebody. I remembered a phone number I had hidden on my refrigerator
door. It was a Top Secret Hotline to the FBI. An unidentified homeless
guy had traded it to me for a few bucks to buy explosives, but I never
used it. I was always afraid that, if it were real, they would trace
the call and eliminate me. The situation at hand seemed like a good
time to use it. I phoned the number and got a typical recording,
"Welcome to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. If you are calling
about a kidnapping, press one?if you are calling about a bank robbery,
press two?if you are calling about a bomb, press three?" I didn't have
time for the nonsense, so I pressed zero and connected with an
operator, "This is Lola, how can I help you?"

"Lola who?" I asked.

"Just Lola?"

"Don't you have a last name?"

"We only give out that information on a "need to know" basis and you
don't need to know."

"How do you know I don't need to know? For all you know I might need to
know?"

"Ok, Lola Hornsby?what number do you want?"

"Anybody with authority?I have something Really Big!"

"One moment please?I'll connect you!"

As I listened to a soft pre-recorded announcement about the joys and
tribulations of testifying in front of the Federal Grand Jury and
becoming part of the Witness Protection Program and living in a brand
new home under an assumed identity, I sensed I was being observed. I
feared they were gathering information to charge me with using run-on
sentences. I heard faint, muffled breathing and it appeared to be
coming from someone with hiccups. I figured they probably recorded
their calls but the thought also occurred to me their lines could be
tapped by another government agency. It seemed I had stumbled into the
world of high-tech counter espionage and intrigue?or maybe they had a
party-line?

A phone soon rang and an agent introduced himself. "Quick!" I said,
"Get Skully and Muldoon over here! They have to see this!"

He disavowed any knowledge of them.

"OK, then let me speak to someone from the Xfiles?anybody?"

He disavowed any knowledge of the Xfiles?just like on television! He
refused to answer any of my questions and I knew he never would. I bid
him farewell and pretended to hang up. I heard a click as he hung up. I
listened, then heard a second click just after a faint hiccup. They
were still on the line. What does it all mean?

It means the carpet is not an Xfile. The agent emphatically stated
there are no Xfiles. If there are no Xfiles the carpet cannot be one.
The prospects have been further reduced.

What is left?Nothing! I've considered and eliminated all of the
possibilities. As any educated man would agree, once the possibilities
have been exhausted, whatever is left, no matter how preposterous, must
be the answer. I know not what course others may take, but as for me, I
will never question the wisdom of Sherlock Holmes, who made that
deduction many years ago.

As I retired for the night I did so with great concern. I knew that if
I slept at all it would be very uneasy so I made sure the faucet did
not drip. I created a situation of complete silence, or at least as
much as was possible. As my head hit the pillow I discovered I was more
fatigued than I realized.

Now I sit here staring at "the hump". It had changed during the night.
The sight of it shocked me like a cold shower.

When I arose the first thing I realized, as I went into the kitchen,
was the drip, drip, drip of the faucet I had completely turned off. I
was amazed I slept so soundly it had gone unheard. I wondered how it
started?

Then I saw the carpet. The hump was higher than the day before. I took
measurements. The rug itself is four feet wide by six feet long. The
length of the hump is over half the length of the rug. It is over a
foot wide, and three inches high. Another fact that I find interesting
is the section beyond the cabinet. It continued to move forward which
caused the rug to crease and actually lift off the floor in several
areas. I measured these and found the edges of the carpet to be one and
a half inches above the floor.

As I watch it I think of all the possibilities. I ask myself over and
over what could cause such an unnatural act. I think of the faucet. I
know it was completely drip free the night before. But it dripped?by
itself? I think not! Someone apparently broke into my house during the
night, pushed the carpet causing the hump, and turned on the faucet so
it would drip. What kind of demented mind would do such a thing? I
remembered it had snowed the night before. The ground was covered when
I went to bed. I looked out the window. The snow was still there?and
there were no footprints leading to my house. I went out and walked all
around it. There were no prints anywhere?but wait! There were
footprints coming out of the house. A pang of terror struck my heart
and I found it hard to breathe. Then I realized the tracks were mine,
"You idiot!"

So, the results are in. The rug is moving by no Earthly means. The
government says unearthly means don't exist. I believe I've exhausted
all the possibilities? whatever is left, no matter how preposterous,
must be the answer. Therefore, the rug has to be haunted. I deal only
with facts?that's a fact!
By George