Ghost Hunting With Sam

29 July2026

1195

R. Linda:

After Barney and his iPhone fiasco, Sam was more enthusiastic than ever about us becoming New England's #1 ghost-hunting team. Me mind was far removed from being that or any investigative team. All I wanted was the continuation of a peaceful summer. I didn't want to think about the chill of Fall, Halloween, spirits rising, and getting scared. 

No, I was about the veggies growing to luscious ripeness in Tonya's garden, the boyos mowing the lawn, and me in my hammy with me Arnold Palmer watching it all unfold without lifting a finger. Yes, bliss.

Now I had Sam coming to me, or more like texting me constantly, that he heard there is a ghost one town over, or there is some legend up in the mountains about strange goings-on and rumours galore of sightings of dead relatives here and there. 

I wanted to say, "Sam, get over yourself. WE are not ghost hunters. Barney proved that." But he'd only say, "But Gabe, we solved the mystery!"

Sam was becoming a fixture around the abode. He'd jump in if he saw something he could help with. Mam was taking a shine to him. She made him scones! Yes, scones. She brewed him tea, and they'd get together EVERY afternoon for tea and whatever Irish goodies she baked for Sam that I liked! I tell ya, me very own grey-haired, apple-cheeked Mam had adopted Sam. 

What was I to do? I'd lay there in the hammock watching this unfold on me deck. I wasn't invited. I'd watch the teacup lift to Sam's mouth, watched him savour the flavour, then the ultimate slap in the face: he'd pick up a scone dripping in honey butter and take a delicate bite, and "ummm and ahhh" sounds as he swayed from side to side in food harmony, me Mam looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Such satisfaction she was getting from all this.

Later, I'd go complain to her about her leaving me out. I'd be accused of acting like a big child, and since she has "so little joy in life," let her have her Sam teatime without the fuss of a child who had other things to do than wreck her Sam time.

YUP, that's basically what she said to ME, her son! Sam time. I'll Sam time him. So, like a Cheshire cat I lay in me hammy waiting for his arrival. As soon as I saw him, I called over to him, and as he stood looking down at me relaxing self, I said, "Sammy, me man, I have given your proposal some deep thought, and yes, I think we'd make a great ghost hunting team."

"You do?" His smile was wider than his face.

"I do." I grinned back. "Only one thing: we have to get the equipment we'll need ASAP. I heard the Cunninghams have something going on at their lake house, and WE could investigate it. Just think we swim, we enjoy the cabin by day, and ghost hunt it at night."

His face lit up like it was Christmas. He nodded enthusiastically, and I knew I had him hooked.

I made arrangements with the Cunninghams to go to their cabin for the middle of the week. We'd find whatever was going on up there and report back. They were grateful. Told me they had arrived to see all the lights on, but as soon as they pulled in, the lights went out. They go in; no one is there, and nothing is touched. I thought to meself it sounded like an electrical problem, so easy-peasy. Of course, I didn't tell them OR Sam that. Kept it to meself.

Sam was so excited that he ran up to Mam and told her what we were going to do and how exciting it would be. She looked amused. Too amused. 

"Den ye'll be needin' a few tings, ye will." She said coyly.

"Oh, we do: a magnetometer, a ghost sensor machine, infra-red photography- yeah, we need to get those things," Sam addressed me.

"Nah, ye need sometings I haf around 'ere. Hold on." And she ran off to get these things we needed.

First off, she gave us a horseshoe for luck, a rosary to fend off any negative spirits, salt so we could draw a circle around ourselves if the spirits came in force to get us, Holy water that she just happened to have so we could dose any demons away if need be, and a potato, "jus' in case." None of this was the ghost hunting gadgets that Sam nor I had even considered.

Between Sam and me, we got the electronics we thought we needed, and Mam made sure we took everything she had given us. We drove off to the Cunningham retreat up by Lake Sunapee, arriving at dusk. The cabin was rustic but well-kept, with a lakefront view. There was nothing close by but pine trees everywhere. 

We meticulously set up the electronics, and we detected notta. BUT while we were discussing what to do next, the potato started rolling off the kitchen counter onto the floor. It rolled all the way to the door, which was something like 10 feet away. I thought it was odd that it didn't fall with that much force; it would roll that far. Sam voiced that as well, and we looked at each other. 

He went and got it and put it back on the floor by the cafe chairs, and it started rolling again. 

"Gabe, you notice there is a slight uphill to this floor, and that potato is rolling uphill, not down?"

Yes, the floor was warped enough to be noticeable. We both were told to mind the warp so we wouldn't trip. So we did know about that, but why the potato rolled up we had no idea. Sam did it again, and once more the potato went uphill to the door frame.

I said quietly, more to meself, but Sam nodded on hearing me say, "Well … that's not encouraging."

Neither of us slept well that night. I heard Sam get up a few times, and the sound of a rolling potato started to spook me out, but I stayed where I was. 

The next morning Sam had it figured out. 

"Look, Gabe," he said, holding the potato out to me to take, "It's a lumpy potato and has an uneven weight spread. The heavy side shifts lower and doesn't touch the floor; the outer shape makes it unbalanced enough that it rolls uphill, not downhill."

I was not buying it, but whatever. I'd think about that though. He might have a point about his centre-of-mass calculation. 

Nothing happened around the cabin during the day, and we did take the Cunningham sailboat out. They offered, so we took them up on it and had a rather enjoyable time on the lake. It was around 4 when we returned to the cabin; everything was in order, even Sam, putting the potato on the floor one more time to watch it go uphill. We decided to go to a restaurant in Kearsage and discuss the potato phenomenon. 

Upon our return, all the lights in the cabin were ablaze. 

"Did you leave the lights on?" Sam asked me.

"No, not one; it was still light out, and I didn't think about it," I said.

"I didn't either." 

We didn't drive up the driveway; we were still on the road, and I had an idea. I drove down a ways from the cabin where no one could see us.

"Listen, Sam. We didn't leave anything in the house that would give anyone a reason to know we were staying. Like I suggested, if someone was actually in the house before we arrived, we had to leave it just as we found it. That meant suitcases in the boot of me car, and we take all our stuff every time we go out."

"Ok. Got you so far, but hey, we left the potato."

"We did leave the potato." I thought about that, then shrugged it off. Who'd notice a lone lumpy potato? "Now, if someone uses that cabin to sleep in overnight, they know pretty much when the Cunninghams are coming for a stay and when they're not. This is the middle of the week, so like I said before we left, if it's a person fooling with the lights, they won't expect us."

"But Gabe, you are forgetting that when we arrived yesterday, there were no lights on."

"Yes, because we arrived at dusk and if someone was going to the cabin, they'd see the car and our lights. Today we went sailing, but before we went to dinner we took everything we brought with us, except the potato, so it looked like we left."

"Ahhh, gotcha."

"So, now whoever will feel free to move back in."

"If only that lumpy potato could talk." Sam reflected. 

We snuck up to the cabin and saw someone inside through the window. We looked at each other and smiled.

"I'm not afraid of no ghosts," he whispered with a chuckle.

"Looks like a local without a home, you reckon?" I asked him.

"Um, could be. Whoever he is, he's just finished eating out of a can, and he put that in his knapsack with the spoon." 

I signalled Sam to follow me, and we crept up the back steps. I started to open the screen door, but it creaked, giving the intruder the impression that he had company. He picked up his knapsack and bolted to the front door, with us coming in the back. The only problem he had was that he squarely stepped on the potato Sam had left in the middle of the floor where it had rolled to a stop. His foot shot forward, and he landed with a loud thump on his back, the knapsack going flying. 

Sam jumped on him while I started laughing too hard to help. It was that damn ghost hunting potato; that's what had me. When I was able to help Sam get the man in a chair, I called the local constabulary, and that was the end of our ghost hunting.

Back home, Mam asked us this, "Well, did ye use everythin' I packed fer ye?"

"We did not." I said smugly, "The holy water stayed corked. We never had to draw a salt circle... "

"Thank the Fates for that," Sam said, relief in his voice.

"We didn't touch the rosary. But the potato …. that potato caught the ghost."

"It worked better than the four hundred dollars' worth of electronics." Sam offered.

Mam nodded as though she'd known all along.

"I tole ye. Jus' in case."

"And why is that?" I foolishly asked.

"Because Irish potatoes have been dealin' wit spirits fer generations."

Gabe

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