Growing up there were points where it was hard to hear, or my hearing would be lost In both ears. What made the condition so frustrating was the fact that doctors were unable to diagnose it. By eleven it was frequent enough to be a problem, but it never occurred while visiting a doctor. Dangers posed by the hearing loss mounted as the years passed. While my parents sought more autonomy for me, they also realized the difficulties of my condition. This is how Ms. Marsel came into my life . She was a professional who worked with people who are hearing impaired. While teaching me strategies to overcome the challenges faced in my life she showed me nothing but compassion and kindness. Not only did she help overcome my struggles, but she had a profound impact on my views and perspective.
Every other Saturday my parents would take me to Ms. Marsel’s. We both lived in Mineral Hills, a town outside of Northampton, Massachusetts. Best characterized by claustrophobic roads that weaved in between conservation areas, it was the kind of place that one could get lost in if they weren’t careful. I was fourteen while learning sign language. Nothing about my condition changed, but the belief was that my hearing could be lost and never come back.
About forty minutes into our session we took a break. Tobey and Mathew (Ms. Marsel’s two other students) sat eating their sandwiches. They were both younger, but their conditions were more advanced than mine. My parents got me food beforehand, so Ms. Marsel sat and talked to me.
“Are you having a good weekend Newton?” She asked me.
“Yeah dad and I have tickets for a Red Sox game, I’m really excited,” As this was being discussed unconsciously my vision shifted to Tobias and Mathew eating their food.
“Well that sounds very exciting…” She didn’t sound like she trailed off. Somehow her voice went silent. The realization came that my hearing was gone.. After this my head turned back to my mentor. To my distress her hands were cupped over her ears. That’s when I signed the question “can you understand me?”
Dismay began to wash over as Ms. Marsel’s face displayed a pure look of terror. Never before did anyone have a breakdown in front of me, this changed that day. Hearing would return to me about ten minutes later, but Ms Marsel was completely lost, soon she was huddled in a fetal position and was unresponsive. Calling my parents was the only option. They sent emergency services. Something was just so odd about the situation. One Second she’s fine, just a few seconds later and she’s in an untameable state of madness. Things did not improve and she was eventually put into an institution and that’d be the last time I saw her.
From that point forward my life would change. Depression took hold and without Ms. Marsel my life shifted in a different direction. Therapists had trouble understanding my predicament. Graduating from college was a goal of mine since being young, but just after a few semesters dropping out was necessary. Work was my only option. Many places in the area had openings, but after a couple interviews a grocery store hired me.
A maximum of five employees were operating the store at any one time. Due to scheduling Maxine would manage our shifts. During my time there we’d become friends. We both worked the second shift. Meaning sometimes we’d close together. I smoked at the time, and she was the only manager who let me take a smoke break whenever I wanted. Average night shifts became a routine.of mine. Morning used to be my domain, but at that point in my life there was a complete swap.
On what seemed like an average Friday night a couple of old classmates invited me to a small gathering. It was the first time in a while we were going to see each other. Unfortunately Maxine wanted me to help her close that night. Usually it was only an extra thirty minutes or so, but she was reviewing some paperwork that evening. When asked how long she’d take, she replied it’d be “best” for me to begin going through the process of closing.
Each register had already been tallied. Next in the process was to throw away the waste. Meaning all that was required was to take it to the bin. The door was required to be jammed to stay open. There was a metal wedge on the ground near the door that did just that. What made the wedge awkward to place wasn’t weight (although it was heavy). Rather the angle of the door. Bread was first to go out.
Once the bread was thrown into the bin, the sensation that something was there started culminating. That feeling grew by the second crate of waste. Out of nowhere the sound of something sprinting could be heard, somehow the door became unjammed and slammed shut behind me. How loud the sound was shocked me. Regardless, I walked and knocked on the window to the office to get Maxine to let in me through the front.
Maxine had a surprised look on her face. Aside from that she had an odd question, “How did you get outside from the bathroom?”
Explaining how the door shut behind me was harder than anticipated. For some reason she was confused. She thought I was in the bathroom while I was outside. Together we checked the bathroom, after discovering it was empty we continued to close. Proceeding all of this the last two steps were looking through the store and locking it up. Somehow Maxine still had just a little bit more paperwork. She told me to take a quick smoke break, which I happily complied with.
Smoke from the cigarette filled my lungs. Stressors of the day began fading, then it happened again. In that instant my hearing subsided. Stuck in silence, the cigarette was soon finished. While walking back to store the sensation that something was there with me peaked out its ugly head again. Looking around there appeared to be nothing in the dark, but then while reaching for the door, it opened. Maxine came out with a disturbed look. She was screaming something, but she ran to her car.
Subsequently my hearing came back, but at that point Maxine already left. After managing to close the store myself I finally made it to the gathering. Several days later was my next shift. We had a different manager and soon I was told Maxine quit. Just about two weeks after that I’d pick up my last check. If Maxine wasn’t working there something told me neither should I. In the process of picking up my check a fellow coworker who worked as security on weekends was there, which was odd because it was the morning on a weekday. When he noticed me he approached me and wanted to ask some questions.
“Did you see it?” He asked.
“See what?” I responded
“Newton, come here,” he said while expressing to me to come over and look at the security camera footage that he brought up. To my surprise Jack showed me throwing away the waste and soon I got to the bread. While I tossed it, behind me a blur appeared for a few frames. It ran into the door as it went inside. The door closed behind it. That’s when he played an angle which showed the hallway that had the entrances to the bathrooms. The blur passed by the camera and ran into the men’s bathroom. Video then showed Maxine walk by the bathroom and stop, then walk to let me in. Something exited the male bathroom in the process and went to the office. The office didn’t have a camera angle, but Jack the security guard sped up the footage briefly and Maxine came sprinting out.
“Maxine said she realized she wasn’t alone in this office. Did you notice anything suspicious?” He implored.
Being asked this led me to think about my condition, but nothing about that was said. Jack told me I may be contacted in the future. Connections that this situation posed to Ms. Marsel became obvious, and Maxine wouldn’t return my calls. After slipping into a depression it felt like my life was pivoting again. Singing and mixing my own music became my means of expressing myself. Buying equipment including a piano and a microphone was something I did even though my budget was tight. These were bad purchases, but it seemed important at the time. On top of that a tape deck converter for the mic was purchased, so that my voice and piano could be recorded and I liked the aesthetic.
Sleep was only achieved during the day. At night, the basement of my apartment was my stage, and the recorder was my audience. It was during one of those sessions that my condition started acting up. Usually when this would happen at home I’d wait it out. This time I just happened to be recording before it happened. For some reason my decision was to record the silence. Nothing big occurred while sitting around, that was until I checked the recording after my hearing came back.
Like all my recordings I yelled “take,” and a number. In this case the number four was yelled out by me. Then a rift on the piano was played, afterwards my voice could be heard. Silence eventually came and that’s all that was anticipated. That’s when I heard it. Demented and deep, the sound caused a shiver to shoot down a spine. It was a voice that seemed to whisper a language that was new to me. Soon the voice sounded like it was coming from over my shoulder goosebumps started forming. Thereafter the entire apartment was observed, but nothing was found. My thoughts told me whatever this had to be in the apartment with me, yet still earlier than usual I went to bed that night.
Over the course of the next few days the recorder sat without me listening to it. My hope was that what was heard was hallucinated. Ultimately the impulse to listen overpowered me . The pit in my stomach began to swell, as I played back the tape. This time the deep dark whisper seemed to approach the mic, before being paused again. In the midst of all this the sensation that something was there with me grew. Calling my mother was my next action..
“What’s wrong?” She calmly asked.
“Something is haunting me! Mom, please come get me.” I cried. My mother agreed to pick me up. While packing certain things, the decision was made to pack the tape recorder with the feared tape.
It was a constant struggle. My parents home made me feel somewhat safe, but still curiosity and wonder remained. Not knowing what to do with the tape, one day my parents tried to intervene. They approached me and asked what was wrong and what they could do. That’s how the decision was made to show them the tape.
All three of us huddled around the tape recorder in the dining room. The tape started as normal with me yelling it was the fourth take, then silence and more silence. Suddenly the realization came that there was no deep voice.
“Impossible,” I whispered aloud.
“Are you sure you’re okay Newton?” My father questioned.
“Of course I am dad, I’m not screwing around here. The reason I showed this tape was because something was on it.” I replied.
“Newton, we just listened to silence for a minute.” He said with a more stern tone and continued, “You’ve got to get your act together.”
To not get kicked out of my parents’ house they required me to get another job. The next day I went into town and started puting in applications at retail establishments. Towards the end of my excursion I made a discovery, a sign with the words “Mystic-Clairvoyant.” Something told me this person could help.
Walking inside there was a strong aroma of sage. The front room had a desk and a few chairs. It was the decor that stood out. Figurines of all shapes and sizes littered the room. Most of them appeared to be made from polished stone. There were beads that divided the rooms and the walls were painted a light indigo color. Through the beads from the other room walked a woman in a pink dress. She almost seemed to have a concerned look on her face when she first saw me.
“Can I help you?” She probed.
I stepped back towards door and I said “I don’t know… I can leav-”
“-No! I’m sorry. Would you like a reading?” She apologetically cut me off. At that moment she seemed genuine.
“How much is it? I replied with a curious tone.
“Twenty dollars for a twenty minute session.” She announced.
An agreement was made for a session. We went into the backroom. There was a table and shelf. The shelf had one of those glass balls on it. A deck of Tarot Cards sat on the table, but she took it off and put it on the shelf. She turned on a soft overhead light, while she turned off all the other lights. She started lighting candles. After she sat down she shook her hands, and then asked “Would you put out your right hand for me?” While complying an uneasy sensation washed over me. Upon grabbing my hand she jolted somewhat, as she closed her eyes.
“I see a lot of pain and suffering. Something awful is happening. Something is trapped. I’m getting the initials RG. Something written. Something- No. No. No!” As she said this her demeanor shifted. Then she continued by yelling, “You must leave immediately!” After I walked out the door she locked it behind me.
This experience damaged my already fragile anxiety. Nothing seemed right about my life. Not long after I’d get an interview. It went well and I ended up getting a job at a clothing store. Low key and nothing special. To not repeat anything with my coworkers I kept my distance.
Thursday was one of my days off and I did some research while at the library. On the initials RG. Only the names of celebrities came up and I thought I hit a wall. So instead I researched documents. I burned through famous journals eventually finding nothing. That’s when I started reading through political documents. This led to the Mayflower Compact. It was America’s first Government Document. That’s when I saw it. The name “Richard Gardiner.”
Very little was provided on the person. On another day I sat around the dining room table with my parents. Apartments is what we discussed at first until I asked my parents if they knew anything about Richard Gardiner. Expecting nothing, I was surprised by what they revealed.
“Your great grandfather’s last name was ‘Raymond Gardiner.’” My father began. Then continued, “Your uncle lives at your.grandparents’ old house. He lives over in Pittsfield From what I remember there were family documents in the attic..”
Following the conversation I contacted my uncle. Not many days later I drove west to Pittsfield. The house that my grandparents lived in was a strange place. It had a Victorian style architecture and the smell of old wood and must. When I explained to my uncle that I was trying to figure out our heritage and if there was anything related inside the house that he knew of. He took me upstairs to the attic and showed me a box. In this box were some pictures, a few postcards, and some letters sent between my grandmother’s mother and her grandmother. All of this was from long into the past. Uncle David told me to take the box with me because he wasn’t feeling well. Apparently the box had my answers.
All the documents went back to Mineral Hills. About a week or so was spent scanning through the documents. My grandmother had several pictures of her family. Every picture had her mom, dad and two siblings, but they also had someone else appear in every photo. Some guy in a suit with a cane. He looked young in the photos. What was especially odd was how in all the photos he didn’t seem to age. Even though the photos were marked as being many years apart and my grandmother’s family aged. The man in the suit did not.
Just after viewing the pictures I discovered a document with our family tree. It did not contain the name Ron Gardiner, but it did contain a name to the left with an arrow drawn straight down to the bottom, which was unique from the rest. His name was “Edward Fichinham.” There was only one letter that mentioned the name. My great grandmother said to my grandmother, “Edward, the man in the suit with the cane still watches us.”
Back to the library I went, this time to research the unknown name. What I discovered startled me. The only match was for an occultist practitioner from the Medieval Ages. It was rumored that he was attempting to figure out a way to live forever, but somehow disappeared.
One way or another I found myself on a paranormal forum. What a user said was, “Entities interact with electronics,” it also said, “Entities can get trapped.”
Afterwards I asked my father if he’d heard of the name “Edward Fichinham.” He seemed somewhat thrown off by the question, but still responded with, “No, why do you ask?”
“His name was mentioned amongst some documents of grandma’s.” I responded.
“Can you show me?” He inquired.
When I showed him the pictures he jolted. “That man, he’s… Familiar.” He blurted out.
He wouldn’t mention anything further. I’m going to do further investigation and report back in the future.