The Ghost Dog

A man walked along the sidewalk in downtown Los Altos, looking at shop windows. Something tugged at his coat and he was dragged into the shadows. Five minutes later, a piercing howl was heard.

Eleven-year-old Emi surveyed the newspaper. A title caught her eye. “Man Missing. Last Seen Near Midnight in Downtown Los Altos. No Clues.” “Yes!” Emi exclaimed. “A mystery!” Quickly, she packed her backpack with supplies and headed to downtown. It was lunchtime when she arrived. She found her favorite sushi restaurant, Sumo, and got a seat at the bar. Flipping open her notebook, she wrote, “Three days before Halloween.” Nibbling on some sushi, she thought about what else to write. Finally, she wrote, “Man that went missing seen a little before midnight.” Checking her watch, she decided to go home.

The Dark Night

Swiftly and silently out of the darkness came a mysterious shape running full speed. It grabbed hold of me and pulled me into the gloom. I was knocked unconscious.

When I woke up a silhouette of a wall stood directly in my path. My hands felt the cold, worn surface. A strange sensation came over me. I was taken into the rhythm and beat of the wall. I bowed down to the wall and prayed towards it.

Deadly Halloween

Mary, Sally, Katie and Carla were best friends and loved Halloween more than any other holiday. However, one year they took their great love for Halloween a little too far.

The day before Halloween, walking home from school, they overheard a hushed conversation between two boys. “No one would dare to investigate Mystic Manor,” said one. “I heard that strange things happen over there,” said the second. “What an adventure!” the girls thought.

Halloween Dancers

Halloween approaches, and with it I look forward to the annual visit with my dear departed sister with whom I was once so close. Once a year, at this particular time of year, many ghosts choose to make their appearances, and that is when my departed sister comes to dance with me.

She was a ballet dancer, also an accomplished tap dancer who appeared in shows and clubs where ballet wasn’t appreciated. Later she became a dance instructor - even today, having been her student for about 10 minutes, I can manage four distinct taps per step as I walk, a feat she taught me before she left to travel her lonely way.

The Monster in the Closet

Mark was not afraid of monsters, but his little brother Tom was. Mark had to check the closet every night, and Mark always said, “No monsters.” But that all changed when Mark met the monsters in the closet.

One day Tom had to go to Mr. Kong’s Pizza Palace. So Mark stayed. At first Mark heard a Grrrr! Then a Rrrr! So he ran to get closer. He looked until he knew the sound was coming from the closet.

The Haunted Trees of Carob Lane

As I near my 98th birthday, I thought it best to pen these words now, as it occurred to me that I may be the last person alive who knows the whole story; those few friends of mine who also knew of this incredible tale have passed away. Yet even when they were still living, we seldom spoke of it. When we did, it was only with the faintest of whispered voices, lest the trees hear us; those haunted trees of Carob Lane.

Our small town of Los Altos had a railroad station once, in what they call Loyola Corners, and the whistle of the old steam train was as familiar to us as the sun. Just a stone’s throw from the station was Carob Lane, a short street lined with carob trees, tall and proud, like soldiers on the march. I lived just around the corner, in a white English-style cottage, just beyond the reach of the carob tree branches; at least that’s what I had thought.

The Creatures Behind the Walls

A few weeks ago, they appeared. I hadn‚t before seen them. No one had. I had heard them, however, and their irritating scratching through the wall. I mistook them for rats. I set up traps, anticipating to catch a large, vile rodent. And I did.

But I did not notice that it had been pierced through the chest already. It was a bloody mess when I found it, its neck crushed between the metal rod and the wooden base. I had thought that that‚s what happened when rats were trapped, that it resulted in a large puddle of blood. But they told me only bones break. No skin.

How Halloween Was Invented

Once on October 30th a long time ago in room 31 at Halloween Elementary School, a class that loved spookiness drew pictures of spooky characters. Frankensteins, draculas, witches, goblins, ghouls, ghosts and much more surrounded the classroom… “bringggggg” the bell rang and school was out. But, in the middle of the night, the pictures began to change! Everything bad came alive! Chairs were knocked down, desks were dented, the lockers were tipped over and zombies threw homework out the windows. Then the spooky characters went out and started to destroy the earth! There was only one thing that could stop them.

But now I need to fill you in on a little secret that few people know. Living back then was a three year old girl named “Lucy”. She was wearing a princess costume and eating candy. The spooky characters came running by. They looked at Lucy. The spooky characters didn’t like looking at her because it made them realize that anyone could dress up like them and be mistaken for a bad guy. The spooky characters didn’t like candy because it was sweet (and we all know they only like sour food). Suddenly all the spooky characters shriveled up and returned to the classroom as the paper drawings they started out as.

The Ghost

There’s this ghost in my closet, but nobody believes me. I told my parents, the police and even my little sister. Did they believe me? No way! They told me I had a nightmare, and that I couldn’t have a ghost in my closet. He wakes me up at night with his freaky whistle, and he hides spiders in my clothes. Why don’t they believe me? You should ask them yourself. Who else would make thumping noises in my closet at 12:13 every night? Who else would constantly steal my socks and shoes? Who else could I have seen when I saw something white in the mirror, but when I turned around I saw nothing? It’s the ghost, of course, and I think that’s a little obvious. It’s been living off my clothes in my closet for as long as I can remember. He watches and spies on me with his white goggles while I sleep, dreaming my dreams and hearing my thoughts. One night, while I woke up at his usual 12:13 thumping, I saw his goggles on the closet floor. I saw them with my own eyes! But then I blinked, and boy do I regret it, because in that little millisecond they disappeared. I never saw them again. Another night, at 11:14, BAM went the closet door. WHOOSH went the wind, and I heard the garage door open and close. So he left that night, but I just know he’ll be back. He’ll be back to spy on me with his freaky goggles, make thumping noises at 12:13, turn up in my mirror, hide spiders in my clothes, whistle spookily at night, and steal my shoes and socks. Only next time will be different - next time I’ll be ready.

Lost on Halloween Night

Once upon a time there was a girl named Clara. She got lost in a sand storm on Halloween night. She found a witch, named Adora Bull, flying in the sky. The witch had a cat named Pumpkin that was dark orange and light orange. Adora Bull said that she’s under a spell that cannot be broken unless she finds a lost girl and takes her back home on the next Halloween night. Adora Bull took Clara back to The Witches’ Academy for Girls. All of the other witches thought that Clara was for their stew that night. Adora Bull told them “no,” and said that she took the girl to undo the spell. Then she showed Clara where she would sleep - in a cushy sock for a bed.

Clara said, “I miss my parents. When is Halloween going to be back?”

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“Mommy, I can’t move!” my four-year-old son wailed. With only his head and chubby hands showing, and with two feet pointing outward, he began to cry. Tears came spilling down his fat, rosy cheeks. This adorable child was being completely consumed by a papier-mâché pumpkin that had gotten out of control.

My creative project had begun a week or two before Halloween. Every day, I added more and more layers of paper and glue to form the shape and size I wanted. At last, the pumpkin was ready to be painted its bright orange color. I even painted green leaves around the opening on top.

A True Halloween Tale

The Bronx, New York City. October 31, 1956, Halloween night.

We approached the apartment building on the corner of DeKalb Avenue. The door to the vestibule was locked but the panel of doorbells was within reach. So we pushed one - any one would do. Over the intercom came a woman’s voice, “Who is it?” In unison we sang out, “Trick or treat!” In reply to our chorus came a giggle and then a loud buzz, which signaled that the door had been unlocked for our entry. Together we scurried inside - the witch, the hobo, the fairy godmother and the pint-sized ghost.

The Haunted Castle

Ramona, also called “Dutchy,” had been kidnapped by the emperor, Robert. Her sister Emi had gone to save her. She had been gone for a while, and the town was thinking the castle was haunted. Or so they thought.

“Come on, where is she?” Emi muttered under her breath.

The Dark Night

Swiftly and silently out of the darkness came a mysterious shape running full speed. It grabbed hold of me and pulled me into the gloom. I was knocked unconscious.

When I woke up a silhouette of a wall stood directly in my path. My hands felt the cold, worn surface. A strange sensation came over me. I was taken into the rhythm and beat of the wall. I bowed down to the wall and prayed towards it.

The Ghost of the Winchester Mystery House

There is a ghost in the Winchester Mystery House. It is the ghost of Sarah Winchester’s dog, if she had one. It flies through the house, watching people gape at its mistress’s house.

One day it grew tired of staying invisible and was lonely. It wanted a friend. The following afternoon the dog ghost got its chance. A little girl had wandered off from her tour. The ghost appeared before her, woofing happily. It wagged its tail so hard; it would have come off, had it been alive. Instead of being delighted to see the dog, the girl ran screaming to her mom. The canine was greatly disappointed. But he decided to try again the following day.

Modern homes in a ranch-house town

When Bill Helson brought his new wife to Los Altos, he cautioned her that she’d never find a house she loved. A painter of modern canvasses, Francine Markoe Helson was selling her striking contemporary home in Florida and joining Bill in the heart of ranch-house suburbia. Yet when they walked into the Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired residence on Eloise Circle in Los Altos Hills and saw the burnished copper waterfall and the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a courtyard dominated by a spreading fig tree, they knew they had found home.

There are not many modern-design homes in Los Altos and Los Altos Hills. Yet the people who skip the typical ranch house or spec-built Craftsman-style bungalow in favor of startling roofs, curving walls and unexpected staircases are passionate about their unusual abodes.