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.
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