Tuesday, August 02, 2011

The Shape Shifting Rifle

Last month, my friend, Christine B, asked me to write an article for her newsletter, Paranormal Musings. Christine always has quite a bit of interesting content. You should check out her newsletter at: http://www.edparanormal.com.

Since the article below ran in Christine’s newsletter last month, I decided to post it on my blog this month.

The Shape Shifting Rifle:
Years ago, when I was thirteen, my mother and I lived in a small house. She and my father had been through a divorce, and my sister had already left home, so it was just the two of us. When she remarried, one of the things my stepfather brought with him was a leather rifle case, which he stored in a long, narrow cabinet in the kitchen.

Often, my mother and stepfather would go out for the evening, and I would stay home. On one occasion, I had a frightening experience, with someone rattling the doors as if trying to gain entry. Mom blew it off as one of my friends, playing a prank, but I wasn’t so sure. I asked her if I could have a friend over the next time.

That day having arrived, my friend, Rick, and I were watching television when I became curious about what might be in the leather case. I told Rick that I had something to show him, and I led him into the kitchen where I climbed upon the counter and removed the leather case from its hiding place. When the case was opened, it revealed an exquisite rifle, its stock worked from a rich, black material, from which protruded a glistening barrel of chrome. The engraving showed the manufacturer to be Marlin. My friend and I both held the weapon, admiring and examining it in detail. A few minutes later, I put the rifle back where I’d found it.

When my parents arrived, I did something unexpected. I asked my stepfather about the rifle, and if my friend and I could see it. I don’t know why I did that. Perhaps I’d felt guilty and thought that asking late was better than not asking at all. I will never forget what happened next. My stepfather unzipped the case and pulled out a black-barreled rifle with a brown stock. It was not the same weapon, not even close. I know because I took it and examined it, reading the name Winchester. I stared in disbelief then shot a glance at my wide-eyed friend, who stood there, shaking his head.

There had been no other rifles or rifle cases inside that cabinet. I had looked. And the leather case, which was the same two-tone leather case I’d opened, was designed to hold only one rifle, which it had.

Needless to say, after that day, I rechecked the rifle case many times. In fact, on several occasions, I searched the entire house. I never saw the black and chrome Marlin again.

 This is a true story. I do not attest to how it happened, just that it did. I will offer this. My friend and I were the only ones in the house until my parents came home. And since I hit my stepfather up about the weapon as soon as he walked into the door, he could not have switched it.

Well, there it is. Please feel free to comment. If you have stories you would like to share, send them to me at bob@bobavey.com

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