The Pen Case On the Window Sill

The summer of 1996, I had many dreams concerning rock star KURT COBAIN. Several concerned a house fire associated with a WATER HEATER. In one I was in a cottage with green ("kelly green" in CRAYOLA) interior walls. My bedroom had a white, homemade wooden cabinet housing a water heater in one corner; on the other side of the wall was the KITCHEN. I was feeling along a series of white mullioned windows like a blind man, staring at the woods outside, searching for an escape route. In another dream, the water heater was symbolized by a WALL OVEN in the right corner of the kitchen where the counters intersect (impossible). In yet another, NON-FIRE dream I was Kobain himself hanging with a group of young guys in a ramshackle green cabin by the river; even the FLOORS were painted green, and the land was quite verdant and shaded. None of us seemed to have much money.

This past September 18th, late on a Saturday nite, I posted my Cobain ghost story (see) on the Green River Band website. (I've never heard of them before, but since they claim to be the earliest GRUNGE band in Seattle, I thought they'd be interested.) Then I went to bed. At 3 AM, I got up to rinse some clothes I had soaking in the bathroom sink with WARM WATER. That going fine, I returned to bed. Around 5:30 AM, I was awakened by a loud bang on the front door of my second-floor apartment. Immediately following were some footsteps running down the stairs, then a car leaving. Although I do not take the paper (I canceled it a few months ago), the noise sure sounded like it. I got up immediately to check, but there was no newspaper in sight--not even in front of anyone else's place. Strange, I thought, going back to bed. Must have been a gust of wind.

The next morning, there was no hot water. Suddenly I remembered the green cottage boiler-fire dream; the details were directly related to the NAME of the above musician website, quite a coincidence, but THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO'VE HEARD these dreams. (In fact, the FIRST TIME I emailed the ghostly tale to someone last month, there was the biggest thunder storm in 20 years in our county later that same afternoon, causing many small fires. Funny, because I'd been hesitant to release it.)

After lunch, I went to open one of the sliding livingroom windows, outside of which is a 3 1/2-foot wide maintainance ledge or "catwalk" with no railing. As soon as I hoisted the Venetian blinds I noticed it: the top half of a pen casing I'd never seen before, sitting on the window sill, in front of the FIXED panel. It was a rather unique one, too, the end not being a push-button or an eraser cap, but a tapered plastic point. I thought perhaps it was to a FOUNTAIN PEN, something I never use. Since I'd been opening the window EVERY DAY lately, I've lived alone over 4 years, and NO ONE HAD BEEN OVER for quite some time, I was puzzled as to how it got there. Could it have fallen from the u-shaped, hollow (open behind) blind bracket, where it'd been used as some sort of makeshift implement 17 years ago, before I moved in? Possibly, but SURELY it would've slipped out by now--or at least made a noise, signaling its presense--as I'd taken down the bracket upteen times and the blinds had to be sent out once for cleaning. Examining it closely, I detected two long scrape marks, one on each side; judging from the white, chalklike plastic residue against the solid black case, they were RECENT. The threaded end, sporting the same white powder, was marred or chewed. NO, I said to myself; that couldn't be! Could some fiend had forced the pen THROUGH THE CLOSED, LOCKED WINDOW DURING THE NIGHT, by jimmying the sliding panels?!? The same person who, after accomplishing his ominous deed, decided to KICK MY DOOR FOR GOOD MEASURE?!? Naw...well, MAYBE; sliding windows are NOTORIOUS for being the LEAST safest type of ventilation. An intruder can easily lift one off it's track. However, my mysteriously appearing object looked to be jammed SIDEWAYS BETWEEN the two panes where they intersect in the middle--usually a space wide enough only for a sheet of paper. That would explain why I didn't wake up, but I should'veheard the screen being removed and snapped back in place. SHOULD'VE, unless the racket was from the window or screen, NOT THE DOOR...

Determined there was a rational explanation for the pen materializing, I tucked it in a drawer and forgot about it until JUST NOW. You know what? Someone with a writer-related SCREEN NAME had just asked my permission to post my story on his website a few days before I found it! I'm not sure yet whether to post it there. I didn't see the association until I began writing; if I had, I would've CALLED THE POLICE! Uncanmy.

Anyway, our building's water heater, newly replaced last year, was broken; shortly afterward, thin shavings of clear glass like peeled fingernail polish appeared in the bathroom sink.

UPDATE: A few nights ago (11/17/99) I was sitting drowsily on the couch around 2 AM, just thinking and listening idly to the weeknight noises outside. From where I live I can hear the train, street noises, and other tenants fairly well. My sofa is within 10 feet of the front door, which is only another ten feet from the STAIRWELL. The first time the strange noises started, I ignored them, assuming they were just part of the usual background. But then they repeated, bizarre sound effects that seemed to be on tape, so I paid closer attention. I've had problems with somebody--a male stalker I had many years--playing this sort of trick before, but he always kept his distance, generally hiding in the alley behind my building or down the block. Now he sounded as if he were standing right in the stairwell! If that's HIM, I thought, HE'S GETTING AWFULLY BOLD. Just in case (and particularly in light of the recent strange happenings), I felt it advisable to scare him; if I yelled from within my apartment and he was actually where I figured, he would hear me clearly through the closed door. So, "I'LL SHOOT!" I declared sharply in my best stage voice. Shortly after my warning, someone shuffled down the stairs! I didn't hear any footsteps passing by the door, indicating he WAS perched on the landing.

"Never a dull moment," even when life is dull!