I grew up listening to my Irish Dad recite ghost stories. He is a master at relaying generations of inherited stories. As a young freckled-faced girl, I would sit attentively with my ears open and wide-eyed as I absorbed every detail of each story with great interest. My best friend, Sallie, and I would beg for him to re-tell the stories of Union Soldiers making appearances to distant relatives; to sounds of horse-drawn carts making their way rapidly across empty fields, with no cart in sight, unexplained freezing cold pockets of air, ghostly appearances in my great Mommom’s home and so many more. Never did I tire of the stories and never does he tire of telling them. As the decades have passed, personal experiences have allowed us to add to the pot of stories to hand-down.

 

We just returned home from several days in the beautiful, yet historically haunted town of Key West, FL. While not my first experience with a ghost/presence/spirit/unexplained happening, it was by far the most intriguing. Inspired by several hair-raising nights and exploring Ernest Hemingway’s home, I felt inspired to preserve the details of the memory by writing about it.

After describing “bumps in the night” to the keeper of the The Curry House he said “I hear the beds squeaking while I am here alone during the day but don’t think much of it. I don’t believe in that stuff, but don’t fault those who do”.

To each his own.

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The Curry House, Key West, FL  

Thursday, August 31^st.

We arrived in Key West after a long day of traveling from DFW. The rest of our party had already arrived and settled in at The Curry House when Christy and I walked in that evening. The Curry House is a charming, three story, nine-bedroom Bed and Breakfast nestled on Fleming Street, a few short blocks from the main entertainment hub, Duval Street. The home maintains a lot of the charm of the era it was built in, late 1800’s, while still offering modern comforts. Outside is a sparkling pool that was overseen by a sizable iguana and towering palm trees. Each floor housed several independent rooms with compact pile dark green floral carpeted stairs and solid wood banisters leading to each floor. Christy and I had the two downstairs rooms, #5 and #6; while the remainder of our party occupied two bedrooms on both 2^nd and 3rd floors.

Prior to booking the bed and breakfast, due diligence was done to ensure that there were no reports of hauntings from previous guests. Assurance had been given that nothing was out of sorts and that the home had been previously “cleansed”.  We were able to confidently make ourselves at home as though we were setting up shop at a newly constructed Hilton right off a suburban Interstate, next door to an Applebee’s and Sprint Store. Shortly after we embarked on our first adventure, ironically, a Ghost Tour of Key West. We drove past old historic homes and learned their dark histories; respectfully visited the infamous “Robert the Doll” and toured a dark bell tower full of historical artifacts. “Ghost Tours” are always fascinating, not because of the supposed “orbs” people see, but because of all of the history that you learn about the area, including the disturbing history of some of the early town’s inhabitants. It should be noted, that our Bed and Breakfast was NOT a subject of the tour.

After dinner, everyone retreated back to The Curry House to retire after a long day of traveling. Christy and I had to go back to the Key West Airport to try and find our luggage since it hadn’t traveled with us from Miami. We left at approximately 10:45pm, and waited until the last flight of the day arrived in Key West and returned to The Curry House at about 12:30 am. The house was quiet as everyone was already asleep. Christy and I retreated to our individual bedrooms and fell sound asleep.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “I already know where this is going. Some weird shit happened but it’s because you went on a freaking ghost tour and your brain was just playing tricks on you.”

So, yeah. About that. Hold please….

Friday, September 1st.

The room brightens and it’s morning. I slept hard, like always. I feel refreshed. There are no dogs to let outside to pee. There are no tiny humans looking to be fed. Breakfast and coffee that I didn’t have to cook are waiting for me 15 feet away just beyond my door. Oh glorious day. The Curry House prepares breakfast every day then they leave the house for us to enjoy. I unplug my phone from the charger and see that I have text messages from Christy.

C: “You awake? I could sleep for 2 more hours”

J: “Awake but not ready to get up yet. Haha”

C: Me either. I think my room is haunted. I didn’t sleep good. I swear my bed was “vibrating” …LOL. And 3 times I was jolted awake because it felt like someone moved my bed.”

J: “LOL! I don’t know whether to believe you or not. I slept like a rock.”

C: “And my night lights went out at 5am. I’m hoping they are just on a timer…oh and the night lights kept flickering.”

I shrug it off. At this point I’m thinking what you are thinking….overactive imagination. I get showered and dressed. There’s a knock on my door. In the hallway are a few of my friends. One of the husbands tells me that I need to get outside and join everyone at breakfast so we can all compare ghost stories. My eyes go wide and my blood runs cold. I text Christy to hurry up and join us outside.

The Bed and Breakfast has set up a delicious breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, etc. I pile my plate high with edible animal products and join the rest of our group of nine at the breakfast table. As I shovel food and coffee into my face our friends, one by one, go around the table rehashing things that happened to them the previous night.

When Christy and I left for the airport the previous night, each couple headed to their rooms for the night. Our hostess was lying in bed while her husband was showering. She suddenly felt her bed moving in a way that she said she could not replicate even if she tried. Her best description was that the bed was making small significant waves as she was lying there. Her natural reaction was to hop out of the bed like a rabbit escaping a hot oven and jump fully clothed into the shower with her unsuspecting husband. Her husband, unamused at the situation, tried to calm her down to find out what happened.

Meanwhile, she receives a text from her cousin on the second floor that says her bed is shifting back and forth and is slightly disturbed by the activity. At this revelation, our hostess yanks her suitcase out and starts packing her bags. Ain’t no way she staying here! Cooler heads prevailed and her husband talks her out of leaving. She doesn’t sleep a wink all night.

Around the breakfast table, the notes are being compared and eyes are getting wider and jaws are dropping. Another couple on the 3^rd floor also had their bed moving at the same time. The husband was on the bed while his wife was in the bathroom. His bed started moving and he called out to her to come see. By the time she was able to come out, it had ceased. The husband insisted that the bed had moved back and forth. Being a skeptic, he was perplexed by the activity.

The second floor also had another couple and they also felt their bed moving. Stunned that they weren’t the only ones it had happened to.

We are all quite mystified and intrigued by all of the unexplained activity. I am a little hurt that my bed didn’t shake. I was the only one of nine who didn’t feel it.

We venture out for the day and several people return that afternoon to take naps before our outing planned for later in the evening. Christy and I stayed out a little longer shopping. While at The Curry House resting, one bed shook again, as though it was in a small earthquake. Again, simultaneously, on the 3^rd floor, a husband was on the bed checking his phone while his wife stood at the base of the bed. She turned away from him briefly, and just as she did, the bed shook again. He was more amazed that his wife missed witnessing the bed shaking again than he was that the bed was actually shaking.

Our group has dinner that night at a beautiful restaurant to celebrate our hostess’s 40th birthday. We follow up with bar-hopping and dancing along Duval Street. We walk back to The Curry House. We congregated in the den for a few minutes and decided that we were all tired and ready for bed. One of the pranksters in the house hides in my bedroom and rips the sheet off of my bed when I turn the lights on. I run up the stairs completely convinced that I have a ghosts clinging to me like a backpack. I left Christy behind. I don’t know why I didn’t just run out the front door instead of running deeper into the bowels of the haunted house. I will never question the stupid decisions by people caught in a panic situation ever again. Of course by the time I reached the top of the stairs, completely breathless and praying to Jesus, I hear roars of laughter downstairs from our prankster.

I try to unclench my sphincter and walked with shaky legs back downstairs. I’m completely wound up after losing a few years off of my life. Christy and I had already agreed that we didn’t want to sleep in our rooms by ourselves so we go to her room to collect her things to bring to my room. I stand in the doorway as she packs up her items. While standing there she is explaining the situation that she had with the lights the first night. To better show me what she means, she asks me to turn the lamp off so I can see the lights better. I turned my eyes towards the lamp on the nightstand. Also on the nightstand was a digital clock which read 12:52. Y’all, not even kidding, the second that I turned to look at the lamp, the digital numbers on the clock started flipping and went haywire. Once again, I launched myself up the stairs 3 steps at a time, cursing like a sailor who just lost his liquor overboard. Christy had seen the numbers flip and was two steps behind me.

The bedroom at the top of the stairs on the second floor had lights behind the bed. They were flickering in a pattern, back and forth. Our hostess and her cousin ask the spirit to please stop. The lights stopped flickering. It listened. Must not be a man spirit.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, while a couple was in bed on the third floor, they heard things falling in their bathroom. When they went to investigate they found items that had been secured were on their bathroom floor.

Christy and I stayed awake for about another hour, reading and checking our phones until our eyes couldn’t stay away any longer and fell asleep.  Nothing else happened.

Saturday, September 2nd.

The sun started to come in the room. I could hear everyone mulling around preparing for their jet-ski excursion that morning. I heard Christy leave the room shortly after they left the house. I went back to sleep for a little while. I got up and had breakfast outside after conversing with the Shopkeep about the strange things in the house. I sent Christy a text asking if she wanted any food. She said she was fine. Then she sent me the following text: “FYI, the bed did move in your room today at 7:40 am and around 8:10”.  My blood went cold. I was beginning to think I was immune. She told me that when it started to shake, she tried to wake me up and that I wouldn’t wake up. This is when I realized that I am probably one of those people who eats an average of 300 small spiders in my sleep every year.

After breakfast, I took my shower and got ready for the day. When the group returned from their jet-ski adventure, two of the girls knocked on my door. No “Good morning” but rather “Did anything else happen last night?” I told her that I didn’t have anything happen and they proceeded to tell me that their beds shook again in the morning at 7:40am, the same time Christy had felt the bed shake. They were done. They hadn’t had sleep in 48 hours and were renting a hotel room somewhere other than The Curry House for the last night.

Sunday, September 3^rd

Absolutely nothing happened.

Yes, some tried to find rational explanations to calm us down. That maybe there were fault lines causing minor earthquakes. No fault lines. Maybe because the house was old, it shifted and that’s why all the beds shook at the same time. Almost a rational explanation, except that it was just the beds that shook, nothing else, nothing else tipped over or swayed, like the blinds or the chain to the ceiling fan. Maybe it was construction. Maybe it was hurricane Irma causing ripples. Maybe it was electrical shorts. Maybe it was the iguana climbing the walls. Maybe it was cell phones making the digital clocks go haywire.  Maybe it was this. Maybe it was that.

…Or maybe it was Mrs. Curry.