Please ignore any grammatical errors or typos that you may find in this blog. I drove for 13 hours before nearly falling asleep at the wheel. For the safety of Amy and John I took the next exit and got a room at a Motel 6 in somewhere called Stanton, Missouri. So, here I sit on filthy motel carpet, my back against the bathroom door, typing on my laptop.

I'm writing this because, well, I don't really know why. Amy and John are both asleep and I need to get it out and figured the YourHub forum about my only option. I started this blog a week ago and it was going to be all about how we remodeled our basement and how watching the Broncos on our new 50-inch plasma TV was better than sex. I guess that's a good of place to start.

We bought our house three years ago in what I like to call a retirement community. All of our immediate neighbors are the original owners from when the homes were built in the early '50s. We've got Ernie and Margaret to the south, Ralph and Marty to the north, Barb across the street, and Bill behind us. As you could imagine, with original owners comes original shag carpet, an original pink tiled bathroom, and original avocado green counter tops in the kitchen. While our house still had the original accessories, we did not purchase it from the original owners. In fact, unlike our neighbors, our house has had a revolving door of owners. I know this because our neighbors were extremely happy when we told them we plan on staying here for the next 20 years.

We started our remodeling efforts on the main floor, shag carpet was replaced with hardwood, pink tile was replaced with slate, avocado green counter tops were replaced with slab granite. With the upstairs finished, we then focused our efforts on the basement. It all started after a long, dirty, Saturday of tearing out moldy drywall in what was our laundry room.

"Hey babe, John's done with his bath and I'm going to get him ready for bed, why don't you call it a day?" Amy called down to me.

"Yeah, OK. I'll be right up." I grabbed my last armful of broken and torn drywall and climbed the 12 stairs that led me to the main level and our driveway where the dumpster sat waiting for its next deposit. As I watched the cloud of dust rise out of the dumpster, Ernie came out of his house to take down his American flag. Ernie's a retired Navy guy and every morning the flag goes up and every evening it comes down.

"Hey Mike, how's the basement coming?"

"Good, Ernie. Slow, but good."

"Dumpster is getting full, think you'll need another one?"

"I sure hope not. I only have a few cabinets left in the laundry room to rip out and that should be it."

"Tonight?"

"No, tomorrow. Too late to do it tonight, plus it's almost John's bedtime. Speaking of which, I better head in and jump in the shower so I don't miss story time."

We said our goodnights and I shed my work clothes in the garage and beelined it for the bathroom. Taking a shower after a 4-year-old has had a bath is always an adventure because you never know what toys you'll step on. That night, Spiderman, GI Joe, Woody from Toy Story, a rubber duck, and several foam animals received a bath. I tossed all of the wet toys onto the floor mat and turned the shower on.

I gave the water a few seconds to warm up and then jumped in the shower. Shampoo, soap, the usual. It was when I was rinsing my hair that my foot brushed up against something, it was a toy. More specifically, a small red metal circus wagon that was pulled by two small horses. I kicked it to the end of the tub and finished my shower.

After I had toweled off, I took a better look at the circus wagon. Sitting on top of the wagon was a driver that wore a blue uniform and a red hat that was flat on the top with a short bill. The wagon had bars on the sides and inside the cage was a black bear. Just above the bars written in gold paint were the words "Overland Circus." One of the horses was missing a front leg, but other than that the paint was in rather good condition.

I heard the door to John's room quietly open and then close, which told me I had missed story time. Sure enough, when I entered the hallway, Amy was standing there and gave me a wink.

"The little guy was all tuckered out. Fell asleep halfway through the first book."

"Bummer. Hey, on a different subject, since we just got the tub refinished, don't let John take any toys in there that might scratch it."

"I haven't been," was Amy's defensive reply.

"Not a big deal, just something to keep in the back of your head."

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. It's so cute, John has an imaginary friend."

"Great. Please tell me he's not using a weird voice and saying 'REDRUM, REDRUM,'" referencing Danny from Stephen King's The Shining.

"Mike, stop it. It's cute. I guess they just play together. It's totally normal behavior."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know, he won't tell me its name."

"Changing the subject, what's for dinner?" and with that we heated up some leftover pizza from Arvada Villa and shared a bottle of wine.

I vaguely remember that about halfway through the night, John woke up crying and Amy went into his room and consoled him. After working in the basement all day and consuming a half bottle of wine, that's about all I remember, that and running water.

The next morning as we were eating breakfast I noticed that both Amy and John still looked tired.

"Rough night?"

"Did you hear John crying?"

"I think so, bad dream?"

"I don't know. He was really upset. Usually I just go in there and a few minutes later he crashes out again. Not last night, it took me over an hour to get him settled down. And there is something else." Amy had a worried look on her face.

"OK, what now?"

"His floor was wet."

"Wet? Like he peed on the hardwood?"

"No, he still had his night diaper on. The floor was just wet."

"How wet? What are you talking about?"

"Not sopping, just a little trail. I didn't wake you because I just used one of his throw blankets to wipe it up. The only reason I mention it is because maybe you broke a pipe in the basement or something."

"Broke a pipe? Sure, and water flows uphill and I wouldn't notice a broken pipe. I'm going to go tear out those cabinets now and if I break any more pipes I'll let you know," I said and stormed off into the basement.

True to my word, I started ripping out the cabinets in the laundry room. I love when people say that demolition is fun and easy. Try four days of it, about day two the fun wears off and it just becomes dirty, hard work. When you own an old house you never know what you'll find when you start tearing things apart. Earlier I had found a cresent wrench in a wall, tile under linoleum under carpet, and two dead birds in the attic.

Therefore, when I tore the last cabinet out, I wasn't surprised when a few photos fell to the floor. Apparently the pictures had been stored on top of the cabinet, at some point they were probably pushed to the back and got stuck between the wall and the rear of the cabinet.

It wasn't until I was sweeping the floor that I took a better look at the photos. They were old, originally black and whites but now they were black and yellows. A picture of the mountains, some smiling people sitting around a table having dinner, a cat, and a little boy with a buzz cut and a girl, both dressed in their Sunday clothes sitting on some steps. Without another thought I swept them into my dust pan and poured the photos into my overflowing contractor-strength trash bag.

After heave-hoeing the bag up the stairs, I did my best impersonation of an Olympic hammer throw champion and flung it into the dumpster.

"So, that does it then?"

I looked over my shoulder and saw Ernie raising his flag. "No, a few more. There's always a few more though, isn't there?"

"I suppose so. How's it going down there?"

"Good. Just finished up the laundry room. Found some old photos."

"Oh, anyone I know?" Ernie joked.

"A cat, some mountain shots, and one of some kids. Did any of the previous owners have children?"

The color drained from Ernie's wrinkled face and then he quickly forced a smile. "Yeah, the original owners, the Devlins had two kids, Helen and Wayne. They didn't live there long though, just a few years before they sold and moved on."

"Really? Bet their kids weren't as good as John, were they?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"No Mike, about the same age as John but to tell you the honest truth, they weren't good kids. Well, Helen was a dear, I remember her running around all summer long, barefoot, with her little red painted toenails singing that Bingo song. But that Wayne, he wasn't the nicest boy. He was always teasing his sister. On more than one occasion I'd find Helen's toys in our backyard or on our roof. I never saw him do it, but I knew Wayne was responsible. He was a weird kid, not to be mean, but sometimes you just get a feeling. And, well, the rest doesn't really matter. Anyway, that was probably them in the photo you found, let me take a look and I'll tell you for sure."

"Sorry, tossed it in the dumpster and I'm not curious enough to go dumpster diving for it. I had better get going, I still have a lot to do." Ernie waved and I went back to work.

When you work alone you have a lot of time to think about things, and for the rest of the day I kept going over what Ernie had said about the Devlins and how his mood had quickly went from cheerful to somber. Also, what was the rest of the story and why didn't it matter? It bothered me so much that later that night, as I lay in bed I promised myself that the next time I saw Ernie I'd ask him about it. Soon thereafter, I fell asleep and had dreams of running water.

My alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. the next morning and I dragged my tired bones out of bed and towards the shower. It was Monday and I had to go to work to get some rest. As I entered the bathroom, I was thrilled to find John's toys covering the entire bottom of the tub. Nothing like bending over and picking up toys at 4:30 in the morning. My irritation grew went I saw that stupid the little, red, metal circus wagon.

"We agreed, no toys that will scratch the tub," I said to myself. I went on autopilot and finished the morning routine and as I headed for my truck, I paused to toss the red circus wagon into the dumpster and then was off to work. On my way home I grabbed some materials from Home Depot but it was too late to get anything accomplished in the basement so we just had dinner and watched some TV.

I used the excuse that I needed to finish up some stuff for work and bowed out of story time that night. In truth, I wanted another beer and to type Wayne Devlin's name into Google and see what comes up. I wish I had gone to story time. Wayne Devlin grew up to be a convicted pedophile/kidnapper who lured children with toys. He was killed in 1977 while serving a life sentence in prison.

I should have stopped there, but for some reason I typed in Helen Devlin's name. Google returned several Helen Devlins, none of which could have applied to the little girl who lived in Arvada in the 1950s. I was about to give up when I came across an obituary in the Rocky Mountain News that read; Helen Marie Devlin 1952-1956, daughter of Sean and Patricia Devlin, sister of Wayne. May God welcome her with open arms.

I turned off the computer, grabbed my beer and went to watch some the sun set behind the mountains . I made the executive decision that Amy didn't need to know about Wayne or Helen Devlin. Eventually she joined me on our back deck and we discussed the day's events.

"Oh, and hey babe, it's not a big deal but this morning I found that stupid metal circus wagon in the tub. I thought we agreed to try and avoid any toys that might scratch the tub?"

"What metal circus wagon?"

"The red one. With the bear and horses. I figured you bought it for him, I know I didn't."

"Not me. Probably your mom and I think you've got your facts mixed up."

"How so?"

"John didn't take a bath last night."

"Then how'd the toys get in the tub, his imaginary friend do it? REDRUM, REDRUM."

"Stop it, that's not funny. Speaking of his imaginary friend, he told me its name."

"Oh, let me guess, hmmm, Helen? No, how about Wayne? REDRUM, REDRUM." I never was very good at keeping secrets.

Even through the darkness I could see that Amy's face had gone completely white.

The discussion ended here because there was a terrible scream that came from John's room. I flung open the screen door, ran through the kitchen and towards the hallway that led to John's room. Amy slammed into the back of me when I suddenly stopped that the entrance to the hallway. The bathroom light was on and there were little, wet footprints leaving the bathroom, going down the hallway, and disappearing under John's closed bedroom door.

John let out another scream that shook me back into action. When we opened his door we saw John in the sitting in the corner of his bedroom, arms wrapped around his knees, sobbing. Amy pushed past me and swept John into her arms.

"What's wrong, honey, what's wrong?" she asked John.

"Babe, look." I said pointing at the hardwood floor. We both stared at the wet, child-sized footprints that ended at the side of John's bed where the driver of the red circus wagon returned our gaze.

This all happened about a week ago and things have gotten worse. Finally, yesterday Amy and I decided it was time to get out of the house. Amy has family in South Carolina and that is where we are headed and the reason why I am sitting on motel carpet that smells like urine writing this blog at 3:21 a.m.

Further research has revealed that Helen Devlin drowned. The records did not state if it the incident occurred in a pool, lake, or river, just that the cause of death was drowning. John has barely slept a wink in the last week and he still will not discuss his imaginary friend. As silly as this may sound, at first I suspected that it was the ghost of Wayne coming back to torment John like he did to Helen, but now I'm positive that's not the case. I do suspect that revenge is a motive here.

How do I know that the carpet smells like urine? Shortly after Amy and John fell asleep, I heard water running in the bathroom, as if someone was filling the tub. I'm sitting with my back against the door, bracing it shut. The carpet smells like urine because a few minutes ago I put my cheek to the floor and looked under the door. All I saw were ten little red toenails looking back at me. I'm scared and hope the when the sun comes up all of this will go away. God help me and my family, I don't know what else tooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo TherewasafarmerwhohadadogandBINGOwashisnameoBINGOBINGOBINGOandBINGOwashisnamo