That Night I Met Mary and Tom

“The dream was haunting me: standing behind me, present and yet invisible, like the back of my head, simultaneously there and not there.” Neil Gaiman

“Here and there and not just in books we catch glimpses of a world of once upon a time and they lived happily ever after, of a world where there is a wizard to give courage and a heart, an angel with a white stone that has written on it our true and secret name, and it is so easy to dismiss it all that it is hardly worth bothering to do. … But if the world of the fairy tale and our glimpses of it here and there are only a dream, they are one of the most haunting and powerful dreams that the world has ever dreamed…” ~ Frederick Buechner

“Ghosts could walk freely tonight, without fear of the disbelief of men; for this night was haunted, and it would be an insensitive man who did not know it.” ~ John Steinbeck

Haunting comes in many forms, right? The photo is of the upstairs hallway in the St. James Hotel in Cimarron, New Mexico; one of the most haunted places in the State, and country. I spent two nights there back in 2012; slept in Room #17, which is known as The Mary Lambert Room. Mary is said to haunt that room, as a protector of the hotel, and of the people who go there. I had one major experience of her presense there. She seemed nice. And there were whispers on and off throughout the night. The dark spirit of the place is Thomas James Wright, who was shot in the back after winning the rights to the hotel in a poker game. I don’t know if Tom and Mary are pals, since I have no idea how that works in the Spirit world. But the dude was murdered by her husband, so they might have a lot to at least discuss. There have been times when I questioned the wisdom of spending those nights there. I was in the early stages of severe psychological disturbance at the time; some major PTSD stuff going on. The healing is slow, in fact I have yet to emerge from that spell, nor to find the proactivity in it. Whatever. PTSD is in my estimation a form of haunting.

Here this morning it is a splendid day. The scene through the window is of green, gray, gold, and blue. The birds are done with the feeder for now, but earlier there were some bold and sweet songs going on out in the apple tree. After ten hours of sleep and two cups of Green Mountain Dark Magic Coffee I remain groggy. It’s a wake and bake day as well. Sunday. I may well end up watching some episodes of Ghost Adventures this afternoon. I love those guys – a bunch of goofballs, but they do good work. They did an episode that was an investigation at the St. James. The very idea of haunting is haunting me. I just came up with the notion of the connection between PTSD and haunting this morning, so said notion shall be placed in my Inner Cauldron to brew for now.

All is well. Goof gloriously.

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