Member-only story
The Peaceful She-Ghost
A Young Woman Who Shouldn’t Have Been There
In the summer of 1969, my family moved into a new home.
We’d lived in our old place on the canyon rim for 16 years, but I was quite content to move into a nice, new, luxurious home perched atop a different hillside.
My bedroom was located at the far end of the hall.
Privacy, a teenage boy’s delight, was assured.
I commuted to University — a rather new and glorious institution located within a grove of beautiful eucalyptus trees growing on a cliff beside the ocean.
I was blissfully happy to be there.
Also, I worked as a pharmaceutical delivery boy afternoons and evenings, and I was thrilled to have found such a great job. I would return to our lovely new home each night, and study into the wee hours of the morning.
Our new house was set within the most peaceful of surroundings, quiet and secluded, beneath one huge shady tree. I remark on all these details to emphasize the absolute serenity implied. And to tell you in advance: The She-Ghost never disturbed the tranquility I’ve just described.
She wasn’t that kind of ghost.
I first became aware she occupied our house when she began singing in accompaniment…
