Brooke and I took a trip with some friends to Block Island, a small island near Providence. We parked the car, hopped on the ferry, and headed over as the sun set. It was GORGEOUS.
Our friends had rented an old mansion named
Lynn's Way near the southern end of the island. The four of us from Boston were the first to arrive. We settled in quickly and explored the old, creaky, yet recently-renovated house. We spent the evening lost in conversation and threw in The Pelican Brief to lull us off to sleep. As we were sitting, we heard noises from upstairs that distinctly sounded like someone moving furniture. We stopped everything and listen. Tim insisted it was the wind. But it still sounded like furniture.
Saturday morning the New York crew arrived as Brooke and I were headed out for a morning run. We ran along dirt roads lined with stone fences and green trees. It was absolutely breathtaking. When we reached the paved road that circumnavigates the southern end of the island, we decided to look for a beach.
Our exploration led us to pass a house with a sign that read "Sit your butt or take a putt". There was a park bench with a beautiful view of the ocean next to a putting green equipped with two holes (and flags!), putters, and an abundance of golf balls. We did both.
Just down the road, we found a path that through a deeply green ravine and down to a long, empty beach. There were breathtaking bluffs in the distance, and no people to ruin the view. We spent several hours there enjoying the soothing cool wind and the gentle sunlight.
The afternoon was a marathon of exploring the quaint downtown and finding food. We were STARVING.
When we returned to the house after eating, several of our New York friends had found the Guest Books for the house. Each guest could leave a journal entry. Apparently the house has quite a history. It's featured on the cover of a book called
The Ghosts of Block Island. We looked for the book around the house but couldn't find it. However, the written entries helped us piece together the hauntings.
Many of the guest logs had similar themes - people heard furniture moving upstairs, and saw red eyes peering through the windows. Everyone was getting really worked up. The girls from New York were getting quite scared and went to bed.
That's when we decided to scare the daylights out of the girls. I downloaded an iPhone app that displays eyes of different colors and set the color to red. We waited two hours until they were fast asleep, and then sprung into action.
Austin took the red eyes upstairs while Tim and I went onto the porch and started moving furniture around. Austin opened the door a crack and put the eyes inside. He then started scratching loudly on the door. The girls refused to wake up. He knocked, and there was some rustling in the room. All of a sudden, the air was pierced with a blood-curdling scream.
Austin bolted down the stairs as hysteria broke out on the 3rd floor. Tim and I were trying our hardest to swallow our laughter down on the second floor porch.
The girls never came downstairs that night. We viewed the mission as a great success, but didn't think too much of it until the next morning during breakfast. The girls were FURIOUS. They had been so scared. Jen, the source of the scream, had a hard time getting back to sleep. She made one of the other girls sleep in bed with her. None of them slept well.
Mission accomplished :)
