The Shattered Vase
Back in New Jersey,
my friend Bob
was present at the passing of his grandmother at her Suffern home.
He literally witnessed her take her final breath.
While this story isn't about his being able to see Thestrals, one day as we were driving south on Route 17, Bob informed me that the psychic to which he goes had conveyed that Bob's grandmother was Still With Him.
"Like, in the back seat?" I couldn't help but quip.
Despite Bob having had one or three of his own personal experiences, he was notorious for being easily spooked.
I had written a short film thriller script which he kept procrastinating reading, the suspenseful story based and set in his family's then
When we finally finished the James Bond spoof film he'd been making, he had time.
He'd called from his Clifton apartment while I was house-sitting in Cedar Grove.
Bob's roommates had gone out and Bob was bored to death.
I suggested he finally read the eight or so page The Cabin script, a copy of which I knew he had, and see if we could film it.
About twenty minutes later, hilariously and absolutely frantic, he called back: "Now I have every light on in the apartment and we're not getting off the phone until I calm down...!"
So Bob is a trifle freaked that I'd make such a flippant reference about a probable ghost that's "haunting" him.
I pointed out most likely she is watching out for him, not anything negative.
As at the time we were still finishing up the silly James Bond spoof film, we wanted to film the pre-climax scene between Bond and his antagonists, the latter of whom explaining their plans.
Bob suggested his grandmother's now vacant home, as we wouldn't be in anyone's way.
Suffern is north east New Jersey, slightly north of Paramus.
At least at the time, the community had large parcels of land, and a lot of trees, so it was very out of the way.
We got to the place and Bob showed us around and we quickly discovered that for some reason, all of the light bulbs in the house were no longer functioning.
They had been fine a few days before, Bob indicated, but only one light bulb in the entire house actually worked, and to film, one needs light/s.
Being industrious guerrilla filmmakers, we simply moved the light bulb to different lamps and stuck to close-ups.
A few hours later, close to done, we were all accounted for in the living room when suddenly there was a tremendous crash.
We rushed past the front door to the formal dining room where a massive vase lay shattered on the hardwood floor.
During our tour of the place earlier after we'd arrived, I had noticed the vase sitting atop the high cabinet, but at that time, its position had been way back, up against the wall, not even close to the front of the cabinet.
There had been no vibration in the house we'd felt, and the cabinet was still straight and plum.
As Bob stared at the fragments at his feet
(most likely wondering how th'heck to explain this to his parents),
I couldn't help but remind him, "Your grandmother is with you..."