CASE LOG #73. FILED UNDER: “NONSTANDARD APPARITION; ONGOING.”

CALL TO ACTION: “Frank Cassius here to bring you the hot diggity ghost story of the fall? Winter? It's hard to decipher your seasons. Anyways. Hypothetically speaking, if a ghost wanted to steal, uh, my sandwich. But the fridge is sort of empty and I think I feel bad. You know. For the ghost. Hypothetically, should I leave the food for the figure of interest, or should I try and stock up the fridge for the bettering of both of us? Thanks!”

BEGIN LOG TRANSCRIPT.

To put it bluntly, this is not a case. Well, let me start over.

The contents of this message is not, in itself, a case, and for that reason, I almost threw it out. There’s plenty of people who actually need my help that I’d be better off spending my time on. But you know what? I didn’t throw this one out. You know why?

Whoever sent this message was definitely, undeniable, one-hundred-percent, without a doubt, a Ghost.

And that’s where this case begins.

Locating “Frank” was not difficult, because apparently for the last two months they’ve been living in my refrigerator. [PAUSE, followed by LONG SIGH]. I heard some banging in the little kitchen by my office only a few moments after reading this message, and when I got up to investigate, I saw the magnets on the refrigerator were arranged into the word “sandwick?”

I promptly turned heel and left, then returned shoving my glasses onto my nose so violently I poked myself in the eye. Rubbing it with one hand and muttering to myself, I scowled at the apparition—now visible to me—sitting on top of the fridge.

As a professional paranormal investigator, I knew exactly what to do. I pointed at the apparition, who I could only assume was “Frank,” and said, in my biggest, most intimidating squawk, “ARRWWBUHHGUHGRRR!!!”

“Frank” cupped a hand to his ear and leaned toward me, frowning like they couldn't hear.

I threw my point furiously toward the window, which was the nearest available exit. “Out!” I said. “No hauntings here!” I said. “I have a business to run!” I said. “No thank you and Good Day!” I said.

“Frank” did not move, but the refrigerator magnets shifted so the C , lowercase L , and lowercase I formed a crude frowny face.

“Don't make me get the LED flashlight!” I said.

The frowny face unformed, then reformed.

My briefcase was shoved neatly under my desk, and I rummaged a while for my LED flashlight. Rummaging, in case you didn't know, is a great way to relieve stress. This one time in the Mediterranean, we had to tie our captain to the mast so he wouldn't be tempted by the sirens on the horizon, and no one on the crew could find the proper cut of rope, but wouldn't you know it, after a little rummaging in a barrel below deck, I managed to find not only the right rope but also—sorry, that's beside the point. Anyhow.

I positioned myself in the kitchen doorway, directly across from the fridge, and aimed the light at “Frank.”

“Off you go!” I said. “You brought this on yourself!” 

And I clicked on the LED flashlight.

And Nothing Happened. “Frank” remained atop the fridge. They trailed a finger down their cheek in lieu of a tear. It seemed I was the one stunned, not vice versa. I switched the LED flashlight off, staring. This was no regular apparition, and yet, “Frank” was not corporeal, like a poltergeist would be (not to mention much, much quieter). This would require further research. Already, I could feel the sleepless nights, the midnight trips to the Weird Library, the inventively spelled notes in the magnets on the fridge...

So saying, as of right now, Case #73 is still ongoing. In the meantime, I’ll be continuing business as usual, despite coming home to unusual business. I’ll be honest, I don’t look forward to it, but if I can’t de-ghost my own house, I really have no business doing any business, usual or unusual.

That said, not to outscream the banshee, but I am excellent at my job. Surely this “Frank” won’t take long to—[muffled background noise, BANGS and MUTTERING] Oh, for goodness gracious, I am trying to work—

END OF TRANSCRIPT.

Got a case for Detective Gilmore? Send it in to gilmoresghosts@gmail.com Need tips? Follow Gilmore on twitter @gilmoresghosts .