Free Shake, Rattle And Haunt by Terri Grimes Page B

than  the obvious.”
    “One was a human at one time and it has remained on this level for some reason,” he advised.
    “Such as?”
    “It may not know it's dead, or it may be held here by unfinished business or guilt. It could even be looking to reunite Aunt Sallie with her pearls hidden under the mattress.
    “Are those types of spirits a bad thing to have?”
    “Depends. Those spirits are just like the person was when they were alive, so they could be good or bad, just like the living. So if Uncle Jim was a bad ass in life, chances are he’s a bad ass in death.”
    I held a hand to my churning stomach. “Great, a bad ass ghost. Just my luck.”
    He reached over and patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, they aren’t normally dangerous. Which is a good thing because this kind of human spirit is the type you will encounter eighty percent of the time.”
    “And what about the other twenty percent of the time?”
    He shrugged a shoulder. “Residual.”
    “Sounds like what we used to scrape out of the bong back in college.”
    Sam tilted his head, his dark brown hair catching the light of the overhead fixture in gleaming streaks of chestnut. “Are you kidding me?”
    “No, I’m not kidding. We really did scrape the residual out of the bong. I don’t know what kind of college you went to but most of us worked one or two jobs in addition to attending classes full time, so we didn’t let anything go to waste. Not even the residual.”
    He set his glass of iced tea on the counter and placed both of his hands on my shoulders, staring me straight in the eye. Closely. “Residue. That dark burnt tar substance you scraped out of your bong was residue. Does nothing for getting you high, but does a number on your lungs and kills a few brain cells. You were obviously an Indiana University grad.”
    Setting my glass on the counter as well, I placed my hands on top of his and plucked them from my shoulders. “And you, obviously , were a Purdue grad.”
    “Butler,” he replied with a hint of arrogance.
    “Well there you go, that explains it.”
    We glared at each other for several seconds. Hoosiers are nothing if not loyal to their alma maters.
    Deciding to take the higher ground, I broke our stare-down by grabbing the glass of iced tea and draining it in one long gulp before slamming in back down on the counter.
    “That was my glass,” he said.
    “Yeah, I know,” I replied, playing off my snafu. What else could I do? I crossed the kitchen floor in seconds, reaching into the fridge again, drawing out the tea pitcher and refilling Sam’s glass before handing it to him.
    “It’s okay, I don’t have girl cooties.”
    His eyes regained their twinkle as he leaned an elbow on the countertop. “I wouldn’t have minded a few girl cooties.”
    A giggle bubbled from my lips like a bottle of champagne that had been shook. I tried to hold it back, but there was no stopping it.
    He smiled in return.
    “So tell me about a residual spirit. You mentioned it earlier and I don’t really know what you mean by that,” I admitted, both of us still grinning at each other like a couple of twelve year olds.
    “A residual haunting is a playback of a past event. Just like watching a video playing over and over. It’s not really a spirit. Think of it as left over energy set on a loop pattern to play constantly.”
    “Oh, I get it. Like summertime television where it’s all reruns, right?”
    “You got it. The other type of spirit or more aptly, entity, you may encounter were never human and are generally bad news. The chances that you will encounter them in a regular ghost hunt are slim. Be aware of your surroundings, protect yourself and you should have no problem.”
    “I don’t get it. If that other type of spirit was never human, what was it?”
    He drained his beverage, setting the glass down on the counter with a thud. “It’s not referred to as a spirit. That entity or presence is an energy that has never walked the