Your True
Tales
September 2003 –
Page 39
Mother's Smoke
by Earle R.
I am unable to explain the sickening smell of cigarette smoke throughout my town house. I am a non-smoker. My investigation began about a week ago, when I returned home from shopping. As I opened the door from the garage to the downstairs hall, I immediately detected the stench of cigarette smoke. Since there hasn't been any cigarette smoking in my home for the past 12 years, I suddenly surmised that a burglar was probably at work upstairs. Slowly but very cautiously, I checked-out the downstairs, then moved up to the main floor. Nobody here either. If a burglar was here, he would surly be on the top floor. As I had been burgled some several years ago, I hesitated. Should I call the police? Should I get my baseball bat from the lower floor? I couldn't decide what action to take. I quietly waited and listened. There was not a sound, but the smell of cigarette smoke was beginning to cause me to gag.
After what seemed to be an hour, it was in fact only a few minutes, I slowly made my way up to the top level. The guest room was my first entry. No burglar or sign of any intruder here. I moved a bit quicker, but with continued caution, moved from room to room. No intruder and no burglar, caused me to assume the burglar had come, burgled and exited my home. I wasn't frightened any longer, but another fear came upon me. What was missing? What was stolen? I checked and rechecked the entire house. Nothing was gone. Nothing was even disturbed!
Something was out of sorts and my first inclination was my new neighbour. "What kind of cigarettes do you smoke, Sully?" "Why, I haven't smoked in years. Why do you ask," he exclaimed? I briefly told Sully my story. I haven't had any company since moving in either, he said. "The smoke must be coming from your neighbour on the other side," Sully quipped. "No, I've been taking care of John and Lonnie's home while they are away," I said.
There was only one other place where the smell could come from, the bush behind my property. Some under-age kids must be in there smoking. I went upstairs and gazed out my bedroom window onto the bush. Ahha, I said. As I saw something move... I rushed to get my binoculars. Two blue jays were playing or mating or whatever. I eliminated all the possibilities that I could think of, then decided to call my wife.
"Sharon, I've got a problem and I know only a sleuth like you can help me solve it." By the time I finished my story she interrupted and said, "It's your mother!" I immediately replied, "You mean, her spirit or ghost?" She then went on to tell me that she also smelled cigarette smoke in her home only yesterday. What else could it be I said?
Tonight there's a slight breeze outside and all of my windows are open. In spite of this, the entire house simply reeks of cigarette smoke. What do I do next? Oh yes, one other thing. My mother of 89 years, passed away on February 21st of this year. She was a heavy smoker up until a few years ago, when she entered a medical centre for the aged.
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