The room looked like any little girl’s room. Cheery little doll faces smiled out from the shelves. There were story books, a doll house, and a large rocking horse. The bed had a pink lacy canopy that matched the feminine bedding. There was a trunk at the end of the bed, for storing or for sitting. The pink and lavender clown border, adorably set off the room. It was a child’s dream bedroom, but looked disturbing now, full of cobwebs and dust.
“Wow!” Jerry standing behind her taking it all in. “So, this is our hidden room.”
“It’s kind of creepy. Why would someone board up a room like this?” Lindsay asked and turned to look at him.
Jerry stepped into the room to have a closer look. “This must have been boarded up a hundred years ago! These dolls are all porcelain.” He picked up a book from the shelf and opened it. “Copyright 1820.” He read and replaced the book, brushing his dusty hands on his blue jeans. “This is incredible!”
“Do you think the child died?” Lindsay asked, curiously.
“Maybe, people do strange things in their grief. Amazing how nothing really seems faded. Just dusty.” Jerry observed, running a hand threw his rich brown hair.
“Well, there is no light in here. I would bet that the bedding is rotten. It definitely has that musty smell to it.” She sneezed.
“How could we live here for five years and not know that this was here?”
“If you hadn’t decided to remodel, we might never have known.” Lindsay said, stroking the bed post.
“Well, I’m ready for dinner. Let’s go eat.” Jerry said, smiling, as he left Lindsay standing in the room alone.
“What happened to you, little girl?” Lindsay asked, softly. She turned and followed her husband downstairs.
As soon as they were gone, a sprightly little form moved into view and peered wonderingly at the hole in the wall. Jubilantly it danced through the open space, delighted to be set free.
Lindsay was just coming in from hanging laundry the next day when she went into the bedroom to put the clothes away. At first, the humming didn’t register, but soon the eerily familiar tune was inside her head. She was humming along before she realized that the sound was coming from the hallway. She stopped what she was doing and listened closely, walking quietly toward the door. The humming continued until she peered into the hall. Then a light breeze brushed by her and was gone, taking the sweet notes with it.
It wasn’t long before Lindsay decided that she had imagined the incident and forgot it entirely. She cleaned out the dusty hidden room and packed away the dolls and books. Everything was put in a neat corner of the attic.
Weeks later, Lindsay was watering the garden, oblivious to the splashing and laughing in the puddle behind her. It was Jerry that discovered the small muddy footprints on the kitchen floor later that day.
There were small signs everywhere that they were living with a pint size ghost, but neither Lindsay nor Jerry said a word about it to each other. When something was found where it shouldn’t be, they silently put it away and when there was a small indention on the bedding they smoothed it down. Life went on as normally as it could, and that spring Lindsay found herself pregnant.
A few weeks later, all the strange happenings stopped. Had the ghost went on to where it should be? Strangely, the little things were missed and Lindsay wished the happy little spirit was still with them. The hidden room was no longer hidden and instead was turned into a nursery. They kept the clown border, and repainted the lavender walls.
Several years passed and one day, Lindsay found their own little sprite dancing down the hall in front of her bedroom door. Her blond curls bounced along as she hummed a tune that Lindsay had never quite gotten out of her head.