Knockers and Shakers
M. was about 11 years old when the first scare happened. It was summer and her mom had let her invite her good friend over to spend the night. It was a warm summer night, but the girls slept in sleeping bags on cots. In the high desert, mornings could be on the cool side even in the summer.
The girls fell asleep with stars overhead and the sound of water bubbling in the ditch next to them. M. and her friend were shaken awake. Their cots were being violently moved. At first M. thought it was her older sister playing a trick on them, but when they turned the flashlight on they could see she was across the yard in her sleeping bag sound asleep. They looked all around and under the cots. Nothing. The girls had a hard time falling back asleep; it didn’t help that M. lived next to the cemetery. They settled in and the shaking began again. The flashlight was dropped and the girls made enough noise that M.’s mom called from the house for them to, “Shut up!” M. summoned enough courage to find the flashlight and again there was nothing. The shaking continued on and on and somehow the girls fell asleep! The next morning there was a large impression in the grass at the foot of the cots where something had been lurking.
M.’s second story happened later when she was about 14 . It was a windy night and the shrubs against the house were making their creaky noises. Her father had gone to bed and her mother was watching television in the living room. M. prepared for bed and as was her habit turned off the light and got into bed and under the covers as quickly as possible, trying not to think scary thoughts. M. was prone to horrid nightmares and would sometimes sleepwalk. Her parents would often find her cowering behind a piece of furniture.
There was a knock at her door. M. got up. There was no one there. She asked her mom, but her mom was on the couch and didn’t know what she was talking about. M. went back to bed and again there was a knock at the door. Again no one. She didn’t bother to ask her mom this time. Then the real knocking began. It circled all around the room and sounded like a human hand rapping on the wall over and over again. It went on for 15-20 minutes. When I asked M. why she didn’t get her mom, M. said, “Mom never believed me.”