When I was growing up my dad was an auctioneer in a small town. This meant that he did a lot of estate sales and we found some fabulous antiques. I had always wanted a high-back antique bed and we finally found a modest one, desperately in need of refinishing. I think he picked it up for $200.
So I spent that summer refinishing the bed by hand (I had never done anything like that before!). I loved every minute of it and couldn't wait to replace my plain old bed with this fabulous new find.
And I spent many quiet nights in that bed, curled up with my three dogs.
Then, about a month after I started sleeping in the bed, I woke up to the sounds of someone scrubbing something. I mean, seriously scrubbing. I could hear the sound of a bristle scrub brush against a hard floor (or something like it) and then I could clearly hear someone dip the brush in a bucket of water, shake the water off, and start scrubbing again.
I was confused! I sat up in bed for a long time trying to make sense of this. The house was dark, my parents were asleep and my three dogs were snoring around me. But it was so loud!
I said, "Hello???"
Nothing.
So I sat there, wide awake and confused as heck. It sounded like someone just outside my door (which was open) was scrubbing something. After I got no verbal response, I finally got my nerve (after almost half an hour passed on the clock!) up to go see what was going on. I moved a dog, slid to the side of the bed, put my feet on the floor...
And the sound instantly stopped. Just ... gone. Dead silence. My dogs looked at me like they didn't know what was going on.
I had a few more less "weird" experiences in that bed. I still loved it and I never thought I'd ever part with it. Alas, I came home from college one weekend to find it gone - my parents sold it to an antique fan who had visited them. I don't know where it ended up but I have always wondered if the new owner once heard the sound of the floors being scrubbed...
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