"Whatever Happened To...The Neighborhood Haunted House?"

“Yeah, go ahead, I dare you” Jimmy said nervously. “Go up and ring the doorbell.” He challenged, as he pointed to the dismally dark door on the strange house at the end of the block. “

     Well before I get into that story let me start off with this: In my experience and travels it seems that most of the folks I have chatted with can remember the existence of a “Haunted House “in their neighborhood or at least in their city. There was always a house that seemed to drip with a history of macabre and weird happenings going on behind their cold and dreadful doors. There was always a witch or warlock that would cast spells on young kids, Of course all the folks that I talked to have related some kind of spooky stories that were passed down to them from the older kids in the neighborhood. They also remembered that as they got older, they mischievously passed the same “Terror Tales” on the next set of younger kids. Naturally keeping the mystic and mystery alive and thriving…So on with my story.

So Jimmy repeated his Dare, “Well, are ya gonna ring the doorbell or not?”

As it started to sink in, a knot of pure fear started to grow in the pit of my stomach. I did ask weakly, “Aren’t one of you guys going to go with me?”

“Heck no!” Jimmy answered, “I ain’t going nowhere near that house.”

“Well if none of you guys are going to go, the dare is off, cause that just ain’t fair.” I stated, trying to get out of the challenge.

“What are you, chicken, or what?” Richard said.

So what’s a 9-year-old boy supposed to answer to that remark?

Yep!

You guessed it.

I TOOK the DARE.

 It was pitch dark and as I walked slowly toward the house, some of the strange and scary stories about this house began to race through my mind and I could feel the beat of my heart getting louder and faster. Nervously reassuring myself, I kept saying over and over that these stories couldn’t really be true, because these stories were told to us by some of the older kids on the block, and they were just trying to scare us. Never-the-less a huge lump of fear was forming in my throat with every step I took. I was also wishing I had gone to the bathroom a little earlier!

Because…!

The ‘House’ in question was an old wooden two story house that was in need of some really sad repairs. The front yard was covered in weeds and tall grass, there was an old broken chair off to the side of the rocky pathway leading up to the rickety wooden porch. Some of the shutters were barely hanging on at awkward angles. It was inhabited by one odd and extremely grouchy old man. His name was Mr. Konstedner and we were told that he came from a strange and eerie place in Europe. The older kids said that he possessed strange powers and would cast spells on younger children. (authors note: of course this sounds like what any normal parent would do to a small child…Right?)

One of the stories told to us was that:

Several years ago a young boy was delivering newspapers and as he threw the one for this house, the rubber band broke and the newspaper flew into a gazillion pieces that rained all over Mr. Konstedner’s front yard. Needless to say the conscientious young boy got off of his bicycle and began retrieving all of the pages that had exploded everywhere. Suddenly the Old Gentleman stormed out of his house yelling at the young boy. Then it seemed that he began chanting in a foreign language and the young boy stood up like he was in some kind of trance and walked into Mr. Konstedner’s house. The older kids told us…that paper boy was NEVER SEEN AGAIN…!

Oops…!

There goes my heart again.

As I approached the old house I could see a faint light in one of the upstairs windows. The screen door was patched and sewn together with string. As I slowly placed my foot on the first rickety step of the porch…it creaked so loudly that I knew everyone in the world could hear it. I was so afraid that old Mr. Konstedner would hear it and come out before I could ring the doorbell and run. I ever so cautiously tip toed across the creaky old wooden porch to the door and as I poised my finger over the doorbell…the door flew open and there stood Mr. Konstedner. I backed up in such a frenzied fit of fear that I tripped over my own feet and fell flat on my face.

Fearing the worst I heard a gentle soft voice say to me, “Boy, are you hurt, are you all right?”

I answered in a confused and shaky voice, “Yes Sir, I’m OK.”

“Well here, let me help you up.” He said as he gently lifted me up off the wooded porch. “What are you doing here son?” He asked.

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I told the truth, “I was dared to come up and ring your doorbell and then run.”

Suddenly my heart felt relieved as I saw a sweet reassuring smile come over his face. He chuckled a little as he said, “I see, my reputation as a mean old wizard living in this haunted house has been passed down to you guys, hasn’t it?”

“Yes Sir.” I answered meekly

“Well let me make you feel better, because none of it is true and you can rest assured that I like kids.”

Man O Man, was I relieved. He brought me into his house and offered me some left over cake and a little iced tea, and as we talked. I found out that he was a grandfather of 7 grand kids and loved them all dearly. He was as harmless as a puppy dog.

After I finished my cake, a sneaky smile came over his face and he asked me if I l wanted to play a really good trick on my friends, that were still anxiously waiting for me outside.

Of course by now, how could I resist, so I asked, “What do you have in mind?”

He chuckled and said, “You could sneak out my back door, go straight home and go to bed.”

I started to laugh as I thought of my two buddies standing outside in the dark wondering what evil devious thing has befallen their friend. I could only imagine how long they would wait before giving up and going home. Too scared to tell their parents or call the cops. It was with a sense of relief and glee as I slipped out Mr. Konstedner’s back door. I went straight home and straight to bed, thinking; this will server them right for daring me to ring that haunted doorbell. I fell asleep with a satisfied smile on my face.

I’m sure that every one of us have a Neighborhood Haunted House story to tell. It seems that there is one in everyone’s life somewhere along the way. I am sure that as the older kids in the block passed these mythical stories on to us…some of us passed the same cock-n-bull stories on to the next line of kids. I’m sure that even today there is one in every neighborhood.

So Keep Up the Good Stories About;

The Neighborhood Haunted House

Have a Great Day

Fred Kienle