Margaret Farmer

So, I was telling my former roommate about Margaret, the ghost that lives in my house in Kansas City, and I told her that Margaret goes with me wherever I go. When I was a little kid I remember seeing Margaret standing in my closet. Jake, my brother, woke me up in the middle of the night and pointed to our closet doorway where we saw this woman dressed in a white gown with a glow to her. She never did anything harmful but I have always believed that she was around. Whenever something weird would happen in the house I would say “Cut it out Margaret.” And that was that.

When I moved to Columbia my second year, I lived in an apartment with Lauren. When you walked into the apartment there were two different sides to it. Each side had its own bathroom and two bedrooms. Lauren and I picked the side furthest from the entryway, as if it were safer. The first night that we were there we didn’t want to sleep in our rooms (partly because we hadn’t fully unpacked and also because it was weird to be in a new place alone) so we, correction, I made a palate for us to sleep on in the middle of the living room floor. We had just turned off the TV and were slowly falling asleep. Keep in mind that we lived here alone. Out of nowhere, we started to hear running water. She and I awoke and listened very hard for where it was coming from. We both agreed that it was coming from the unused wing. Once we figured it out we heard the faucet turn off, not just the water but the handle. I got up to grab a knife because we had no idea if someone was there or not. I went it, turned on all the lights and inspected each room and closet. There was no one there. That was the night I determined Margaret goes where I go.

When I was packing to leave for Italy the thought had crossed my mind on whether or not she would be joining me. I told myself, “No way would someone endure a flight a quarter ways around the world just to bug you.” And that was all the time I gave that thought. That is, until two nights ago.

It was Wednesday, January 23. Nicole and I had our friend Jimmy over for dinner that night. We had spinach and ricotta tortellini and grilled chicken. We were all winding down after the meal and talking about our experiences living with different people. Nicole and I agreed that Jack was by far the easiest person to live with last semester and how all I requested from him was that he keep the seat down on the toilet (which he left up once). That led Nicole into an inquiry of her own. She asked me if I left the toilet seat up the night before. She said she almost fell in the toilet. I was thinking to myself “why would I put the seat up?” and then I distinctly remembered putting the seat down to sit on it while I read. Then all I could think was Margaret Farmer made her was to Italy and this was her way of saying, “Guess what? I’m here.”

It’s not that she scares me, because she doesn’t. She has never done anything harmful for as long as I can remember and I don’t think she would start now. But why did she have to come here? Maybe I’m just being the crazy person now but I have no other explanations for why the toilet seat would be up. I got out of the shower and did not go anywhere near the toilet and Nicole went in to use the restroom and almost fell in. How did it happen? Oh well, as long as she doesn’t mess with me, she is welcome.