SPOOOOOOOOKY

Every now and then, my youngest daughter (who is still young enough to see such things) sees things the rest of us cannot. Often she will point and cry and ask "Mummy WAS DAT??!!". So, a couple of weeks ago, before Delta Hotel's never ending quandary reached the nailbiting crescendo it has, one such episode occured over dinnertime. The air in the dining room changed, became static, chilly, malevolent. Youngest started to cry, her lower lip trembling. "Mummy, I scared." Like a gazelle leaping from a cheetah's hungry jaws, she jumped from her highchair onto my lap. Escaping from some unseen predator. I, not overly fond of terrifying things as you know, wondered, what'd he say in Exorcist?

According to our youngest, whoever was in the room with us was sticking by Delta Hotel. Delta Hotel is the quintessential Marine. He just sat there with his big old blinky eyes, completely unfazed by the fact that Satan was leeching off his brain waves, chewing on some meatloaf and drinking his water while the rest of us squeezed ourselves onto my chair like a bunch of half-witted clowns.

Luckily, Delta Hotel's best friend is well-versed in the paranormal. As a matter of fact, he's licensed. Who you gonna call? I hadn't even hung up the phone with his wife before he was knocking on our front door, like Terminex but for ghosts. He came in, unpacked his case of equipment and before I could even say "Boo!" (sorry.) his meter was finding activity in the very corner youngest had indicated. He checked the house, endured the assault of Darling Dog who is madly in lust with him, (yes, it's gross but true) and left me with a voice-activated tape recorder to set up on the dining room table before going to sleep.

Sometime during the night, the kitchen timer went off. It wasn't saying it's usual bee-bee-bee-beep, however. It was shrieking maddeninly, loud enough to wake up both me and Delta Hotel.
"Go turn it off, Delta Hotel,"I whispered.
"You turn it off."
"I can't I'm too scared."
Snore

But eventually it ceased and I resumed sleep, and fell into the lull of my lacking attention span. I remembered the voice activated tape recorder midway through the before school dance of threats, coercion and Sponge Bob.
"Shit. This thing is taping me." Is, I believe, the last thing on the tape.

I rewound the tape and listened. There was my footsteps retreating to the bedroom, Darling Dog snuffling and jingling (no doubt fantasizing about our friend the Ghost Hunter) then a peculiar "Grawk" noise, followed by some banging and more jingling (a la Darling Dog) and at last the sounds of Delta Hotel getting ready for work. I stopped the tape there. (No need to relive my Mommy Dearest episode) What was lacking was the kitchen timer. That thing could have raised the dead, and may have, yet it wasn't on the tape.

But, my attention span prevailed and I forgot about the tape until last night. Our friend the Ghost Hunter came over to help Delta Hotel install our new wood stove and, as an after thought, I grabbed his tape recorder. I told him about the timer and the one strange noise that I hadn't explained, the "Grawk". He listened and knew right away what it was.
"Delta Hotel. Someone said, 'Delta Hotel'" .
Whew. Creepy. I have to admit, I was relieved the walking dead weren't saying "Didi." But what does it mean???

WHO IS THIS VILE SPECTRE AND WHY DOTH HE TORMENT US SO? DID HE PAINT OUR PUMPKIN?