Paranormal Activity

Nicole Chayka is the co-author of the paranormal book 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'I’m going to reach into the vault of my childhood and share a little about growing up with a Fringe Dweller .  Our childhood was wicked cool and if only my sense of humor was as developed then as it is now I would have enjoyed it that much more.  Unfortunately I spent more time shitting my pants than having a good time.  On the flip side I did learn how to get stains outof my clothing, a very important skill come college.

Adolescence was a barrage of Telekinetic activity.   As if being a teenage comic book nerd isn’t bad enough there were all the secrets we felt we had to keep from the adult population.  At least we had each other.  Nonetheless, electronics had a way of blowing up when Monica blew her cool.  Furthermore was the ongoing more mainstream psychic slash mediumship stuff.  She saw and heard Ghosts, I felt them as surely as bats have sonar.  Telepathy was ongoing as we regularly burst into whatever song was playing in the other person’s head.  On a daily basis there was always some little thing such as stepping into the elevator of the apartment where I lived and telling the other occupant that we were going to the same floor as them, even though they hadn’t selected the floor yet.  That was every day.  That was usual.  One of my all time favorite stories involved a Premonition which still never ceases to thrill me.  I’m glad that it never gets old.

My father had inexplicably built the family home over top the area where formerly a barn had existed and subsequently burnt to the ground.  (of course you know where this is going.) Yes, some people had died in it and naturally our house was haunted but not in a bad way.  There was a young boy, ever the trickster, playing pranks and hiding our stuff. We came to accept this, and occasionally sternly insisted he return the objects to where we had left them (which he did).  There was also a man, presumably his father, who would look for him asking if we had seen the boy.  Monica’s first night sleeping over at my place was quite the game of hide and seek as the boy snuck into my room, index finger pressed to his lips insisting we not rat him out, followed by a man asking us if we had seen where the boy went.  Back in the day neither of us had any experience communicating with spirits and/or pointing them towards the light so it didn’t occur to us to send them packing.  For the most part they were harmless.  A pain in the ‘keester’ at times, but harmless until one prank went too far. As I said before we went out of our way to appear normal and anything that highlighted us as standing apart from the status quo was taboo.  So bearing that in mind…

Imagine getting a call earlier in the day from a 17 year old Monica saying, “Ok, youve got to keep this on the low down and not freak out your mother, but I saw one of your water pipes bursting and it’s going to be a cold one tonight.”  Being winter time bursting pipes was nothing new in rural Ontario, so comically I relayed the story to my family that we should have that bucket ready.  Later that night a pipe did burst in our cellar which was unfinished so all the pipes in the basement ceiling were fully exposed as I stood on a chair holding back the deluge with my hand capped firmly over the end.  My mother in sheer panic phoned the plumber getting him out of bed imploring him to come over immediately to help deal with the problem while I stood sleepily on tippy toe.

Then the worst happened.  Mr. Plumber man came in the middle of the night to inspect our little emergency only to re-emerge upstairs shaking his head from side to side.  “Mrs. Chayka I can’t help you.” he said.

“Why not?”  my mother implored, clearly  upset by the thought that we were on our own.

“Because” he said, “The pipe that your daughter is holding is not attached to anything.  It IS a water pipe but it’s just sitting up in the ceiling as though it would be attached to the other runs at some future date, but it isn’t attached to anything physically at the moment.  I can’t explain it.  There is water gushing out of it but it is coming from nowhere.”

With that my mother turned to me and said, “Well you might as well come down from there, you can’t stand there all night.”  And shortly thereafter the geyser stopped.

You can bet I had a couple cross words for the little boy ghost who loved playing practical jokes and messing with us.  As only an older kid can threaten and scare the Bejeesus out of a younger kid, I treated him like a sibling scolding the younger and he never took it that far again.

As for our secret it was loosened a little from the bag but not altogether, mind you my mom always looked at Monica with one eyebrow cocked.  Happily that was the worst of it as far as she was concerned, if only she knew how far down the rabbit hole we went.  You don’t expect me to tell you everything in one sitting do you?  You’d have no reason to come back if I did that.  Cheers!

Namaste, Nicole

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This entry was posted on Saturday, January 23rd, 2010 at 12:00 am and is filed under Coming Out of the Psychic Closet. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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