Unexpected Companion

Ever since I picked up the left-for-trash dresser and refinished it, I can’t sleep through the night.

Dharrsheena suggested that my newly refurbished piece of furniture could be haunted. I doubted it because spirits usually haunt houses, not the decor. But then strange things started to happen.

Like, when I go to bed I usually leave the windows in my bedroom and bathroom open for fresh air. I hate air conditioning and use it only when it is absolutely necessary. So most nights, I just sleep with windows open.

Starting with the first night after I got the dresser, the window in my bedroom would close in the middle of the night. I would hear it slide shut through my sleep, but you know how it is: when you are in a lucid dream state, you don’t want to get up and check on it. So I’d just half-register it and check in the morning if the window was indeed shut. And it was!

Starting with the second night, I would wake up in the morning wearing warm socks. Socks in the summer! Even in the winter I hate wearing them in bed! I can’t imagine myself putting the socks on in the summer. And I live alone!

And then a couple of nights ago, I swear I felt someone’s presence in my bed at night, like being intently watched. And then I heard someone quietly mumbling, in a very strange olden Russian, “See, she doesn’t like socks! And what if she gets sick? Who’ll take care of her, when she lives alone? And all those drafts from open windows? Don’t even start me on that!”

I thought I was having a bad dream. But like in a bad dream, I froze with fear. When I pulled my courage and turned around, no one was there. I read a book till I fell asleep and woke up wearing socks again.

The night after that I got fed up. I decided that no matter how scared I was, I needed to investigate what’s going on. So I went to bed and pretended to sleep. When I felt the movement at my feet, I turned the light on and threw the cover off.

There he was, a small gnome-sized old man with a shovel-shaped white beard and laughing beady eyes, dressed like a character from a Russian fairy tale called “Domovoy” - someone who dwells in the house, Housey.

“You got me!” He said in old Russian and sighed. “Sooner or later it was bound to happen.”

“Who are you?”

“You can call me grandpa Vanya.”

“How did you get here?” I asked, still bewildered.

“Came with the dresser,” he said without blinking his eyes.

“And how did you end up in the dresser?”

“Long story, I came with a Russian family that immigrated in 1917, after the revolution. Stayed with them for several generations, and then one day they threw me out in the dresser.”

“Ok, I wanna hear all about your adventures!”

“Can you make some tea? It really is a long story.”

“Of course I can make some tea. I have lingonberry tea from Russia.”

“Oooh, the best! And raspberry jam?”

“Of course, I make it myself.”

“I know. That’s why I like you. By the way, don’t even think about selling that kid rocker!”

“Really? Why?”

“It’s the best bed, rocks me to sleep so well. But please knit some bedding for me, will you, so it’s softer and more comfortable. I’m tired of hauling the sofa pillow there every night.”

“Ok, grandpa Vanya, as you wish,” I said, already thinking about what I can use to knit him the bedding that would double up as a cushion for the rocker.

And so every night now we have long tea sessions telling each other our life stories. And I sleep only about half a night.

Better than any ghost.

My earlier story about how I picked up and refinished the dresser is here.