The year was nineteen seventy-five, and I was nineteen years old when this happened. I was unemployed, a common occurrence for me, and that summer, I was picking up as many odd jobs as I could, as were many of my friends. In addition, I sometimes engaged in things that weren't exactly legal, like scavenging vacant houses for copper and other metal, which could be sold for scrap. If nothing else, it was cigarette money.
This particular day, I was with a friend, C.W., and we were in a vacant house a few streets over from where we lived. It was a bright Saturday afternoon, and we'd planned on buying a 12-pack with some of our proceeds. We had already stripped out several yards of copper wiring, and were hard at pulling out a cast-iron sink and drain board in the kitchen.
The doors were shut, as were the windows; not a breeze was stirring. However, the door to the little room just off the kitchen seemed to have a mind of its own... It was closed when we entered the kitchen, but as we began to unbolt the sink, the door swung slowly open, held for about two beats, and then slowly closed again. I just let it go, as I was focused on pulling the cast-iron before someone saw us in there. A couple minutes later, the door swings open, pauses, and swings shut again. I walk over, open the door, and look inside... Nobody there, just an empty room. So, I shut the door, and go back to helping C.W. Just then, "swing" goes the door, a short pause, and it closes again.
By now, C.W.'s looking kind of nervous, and I'm not really as cool as I'm letting on, either. However, when the door swung open again, it made me madder than I was scared, and I yelled,
"WAITAMINNIT! I don't know who, or what you are, but I know one thing... You ain't got no more use for this sink, and we DO! So get the @#&^ OUT!"
With that, the door swung shut... And stayed that way.
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