Photo by Suzano Magalhães
(www.olhares.com/suzano)

It made me want to cry. I very much wanted to help Abel. But what could I do at that moment? I had to wait for the right time to do what I needed to do. I closed the door and locked it, and then went to the garden.

It was a beautiful garden and very large. It had trees, shrubs, flowerbeds full of flowers, but it had been a long time since last time it was taken care of. The flowers could barely be seen in the middle of the weeds. The lawn had reached such a height that was it was not possible to walk over without tripping. The sky was clear, there were no clouds, but the sunlight seemed to have difficulty in getting to that place. It was as if an invisible veil was covering the whole place, giving it a gloomy feel, where a only a few golden rays could enlighten some parts of it.

I stood next to Elisa:

- We have to get this garden cleaned. It doesn’t look very good.
- You’re right. – Elisa agreed – I’ll hire a gardener to come here tomorrow.
I pointed at the extension of green in front of us:
- I have to say that this garden is really … something extraordinary.
- The leaves are starting to change to Autumn colors. – Elisa observed, looking at the trees – This is a very pleasant place at this time of year. My father loved coming here. He used to hang a hammock between those two trees there, when the weather was good.
She pointed to two trees at the back of the garden and smiled:
- He spent whole afternoons there, reading books and reciting poetry.

Elisa crossed her arms, still smiling dreamily:

- He was an extraordinary man.
- I believe you. – I said, looking slightly at the cellar door behind us.
- We spread his ashes at the garden, you know?
I shifted the gaze to her again, surprised:
- Come again?
- We spread his ashes at the garden. That way, he’ll always be with us. Or at least, that was what I thought at the time.

“That explains a lot.”

- That’s… very poetic. – I said.
- I thought so too.
I looked at the door of the basement, discretely:
- Er … Elisa?
- Yes?
- Do you by any chance have the command to open the gate for the garage?

Elisa nodded:

- Yes, we have two commands. They are indoors. I can show you where we keep them.
- Yes, please. Customers are always well impressed by a garage’s gate that opens with a remote control.
- Well… – she said, smiling with surprise – I gess so.

We returned to the house, entering through the glass doors of the terrace, where I took the chance to tell her about the Ming vases that were broken the day before, and that I had hopes they weren’t Ming vases. Of course I didn’t make any reference to tornadoes. I only mentioned “strong winds”.

- This happens all the time. – Elisa said – These windows open suddenly with the wind when we least expect it. I don’t know why. Before the fire, it never happened.

“Yeah, I can imagine it didn’t.”

- Really?
- Yes … But don’t tell the customers. – she asked with an embarrassed smile.
- Of course not.
- And don’t worry about the pots. They were nothing special.
Elisa went to a dresser and opened a drawer:
- The commands are here.- she said, with a little shiver of cold – I have to get the coat.
- Okay.

She went to the cloakroom, put on the jacket and came back to me, crossing her arms and snuggling in her jacket.

- It’s getting colder. – she remarked.
I haven’t noticed up until then but it was actually getting colder. I looked at my watch. It wasn’t even three o’clock. And my feet still felt cold. When I looked back at Elisa, she had her eyes set on one of the sofas in the room.
- It was precisely in that sofa that my father died. I mean, not that couch, of course, but… it was in that spot that they found his remains. Completely burned up.
- I thought they’ve found him in his bedroom.
Elisa looked at me, amazed.
- No, it was here in the room. – she assured – Why?
- Nothing. I just assumed that your father had fallen asleep in his bed.

I didn’t seem it necessary to tell her that I’ve had a conversation with her neighbor. At least for now. She shaked her head, rubbing her arms and shrinking herself further in her coat:

- My father was sick that morning. His joints were hurting. We were all supposed to go to Setubal for the weekend, but he didn’t feel in the mood to leave home. And so, we let him stay here.
She turned to the windows, and had her eyes fixed on the garden outside:
- Once we arrived at Setubal, Charles received a call from his company. It was some kind of problem. A serious one. He had to get in the car and return to Lisbon… I mean, Sintra. His company is located in the area of Sintra. Anyway, a few hours later, he phoned me from here, telling me that he had solved the problem faster than expected and had passed by, just to see if my father was all right. I even talked to my dad on the phone…

Elisa looked at the floor. I realized that she had tears in her eyes but her voice was firm:

- And I insisted, and insisted, and insisted that he should come to Setubal with Charles. Charles’s parents live in a very comfortable apartment and they had an extra room for him to spend the weekend. I insisted so badly… But he didn’t want to come. He really was not well and didn’t have the heart to get himself into a car and come down. When he said goodbye, he told me to try to relax and to all of us to have some fun. He suggested we take a boat trip to Sado with the children to go see the dolphins. He assured me that he was well enough to be left alone, sent me kisses and… It was the last time I talked to him.

She looked at me:

- Hours later, we got a call from Martha, saying that the house had exploded.
- Martha?
- Martha Olivera, the neighbor in the front house. She called us before the police.
- The police?
- Yes, the police are called whenever there is fire in a house or a shop … but what happened was simple to understand. Because of the pain, my dad took so many painkillers that he was in a state of somnolence, so he was not even aware of what he was doing. He fell asleep on the couch in the room, completely dizzy with a lit cigarette in hand. That was after having eaten something that was in the kitchen, leaving the nozzle of a gas stove barely closed. The result was a fire and an explosion that destroyed this house and still damaged the property of several neighbors.
Elisa made a pause and then continued:
- In the beggining they suspected arson, because Charles had been here that same afternoon.

She shaked her head:

- Not the best day of my husband’s life. First, the problem he had to resolve in the company, making him drive for hours and hours from one place to another, after having traveled to Setubal. Then he still had the energy and patience to endure my father, passing by here to see if he was okay. At the end of the day, he came back to Setubal, only to be brought back to Lisbon soon after, handcuffed by the police.
- The police don’t take anybody under custody without a good reason.
- The debts that Charles had on the company were quite large, and he was not managing to pay them. – she confided to me – My father’s death benefited me greatly, I inherited all that was his. Being Charles’s wife, it was obvious that I would pay his debts. The police thought this to be a good reason for him to kill the father-in-law, which does have its logic, except for the fact that it’s a complete absurd.
- I’m surprised that they didn’t suspect you, if you don’t mind me saying.
- No, no, they did ask me a number of questions too… but the police soon focused on my husband because he was the one who had been here.
- Motive and opportunity.
- Exactly.

I thought about that for a little bit.

- When you say “police”, do you mean the local squad?
- I mean the Judicial Police.
- So, if I … – I hesitated, knowing what I wanted to ask but not knowing how well she would react.
- Yes?
- If I then go to the Judicial Police and inquire about this… Would you mind?
She shrink the shoulders:
- No. Why would I? But I don’t understand what you’re going to do there. Is it going to help you sell the house faster?
- Very likely.

It was no lie. Knowing exactly what had happened in that house was vital to find out how to help Abel leave in peace. With the house free of paranormal phenomena, I could then take potential buyers there without running the risk of suddenly having strange and unexplained things going around right in front of their eyes. Being able to show homes without having to call ambulances in the process was very important for the beginning of my new career.

- Well then, search by a man named John Noble. – Elisa told me – He is the investigator who was charged with investigating the fire at the time.
I took a notebook from my bag and took note of that name.
- I don’t know if he will talk with you, but if necessary, I talk with him and ask him to call you.
- Thank you, Elisa.
- Sure.
- Ask her if she ever took the kids to see the dolphins.

- Ask her.

Very slowly, I turned around. There was Abel with a normal appearance, walking to me. Elisa couldn’t see him but she could clearly feel his presence. The lowest temperature was a signal. At least, the old man was calmer. He passed by me and continued walking towards his daughter.

- Elisa, can I ask you one more thing, only as a curiosity?
She looked at me:
- What?
Abel was right beside her.
- Did you come to take the children to see the dolphins?
- Yes, actually, I did. Not that weekend, as you can imagine, but a few days later, when my husband was free of those idiotic accusations from the police. The children needed to lighten up a bit. They really missed their grandfather. At this point, we were living in a temporary home, and preparing to rebuild this one. They loved my father, and I insisted we go to Sado, because it was what their grandfather had wished for. I remember it was a very happy day, especially for my youngest son.
- They must have grown up a little by now.
She laughed:
- They are adults already. The oldest is in medicine’s college, and the youngest has now entered the Air Force.
- It was what he wanted! – the happy laughter of Abel sounded like crystal – He wanted to be a pilot when he was a grown up!
- Wow! – I exclaimed.
- The oldest one wanted to be Batman, though.
- Well, let’s go. – Elisa asked – It’s getting very cold, and I still have commitments to meet this afternoon.
- Sure.

She went to the exit door, looking around once more. Abel was right in front of her with a happy smile. We left and she locked the door. It was hotter outside but she didn’t seem to notice.

- Well, it was a pleasure to meet you. – she said, extending his hand to me – Unless you have any further question regarding the house that you need to have clarified.
I shaked her hand:
- No, I have nothing more to ask you at the moment. Thank you very much for coming.
- Sure. You have my contact, right?
- Yes… Let me give you my card.

I took a business card from my bag and handed it to her.

- Very well. – Elisa said – Until next time, then. I hope you sell the house very soon.
- Me too.

We said goodbye and went to my car, watching her going to Martha Olivera’s house. I gave a look to the House of Lumiar as I entered in my car. I saw Abel in one of the window, half-hidden among the curtains, watching his daughter with a happy smile on his lips.

I observed as Elisa rang the bell. The door opened up and old Martha looked at Elisa, first with surprise, then with a glow of recognition in her eyes. The two women hugged and laughed it up, especially Martha, who began a non-stop chattering and gesturing. I could hear her voice from inside the car. Until suddenly she was quiet, staring at the House of Lumiar. I followed her look.

Martha was looking at the window where Abel had been. But he had disappeared, leaving the curtains curling behind him. When I looked back at the two women, Elisa was trying to understand what was happening with Martha, who was now pale, as if she had seen a… ghost. Elisa also followed her gaze but didn’t see anything abnormal.

And then they looked at me. I started the car at once and left. I needed to do a little research and had no time to lose.

Photo by Asmundur
(www.flickr.com/photos/asmundur)
(www.hdri.wordpress.com)

I had not seen that part of the house yet. As it had been built on a slope, it had windows in the basement and a gateway to the garden in the back. There were windows in almost every room and the corridor’s doors were open, letting daylight illuminate a little bit those corridors that seemed more like catacombs of luxury.

- If my father were alive at the time of reconstruction of the house, – Elisa confessed, leading to an open door of the corridor – I doubt very much that he’d let Carlos spend so much money as he spent in the works. We argued a lot. After all, who put marble on the floor of a cave?!

I looked at the floor. Marble, in fact. One of the best. Elisa sighed, still reviewing the entire floor and basement:

- But between the discussions and the works that were being made here, a work of art was born, the most beautiful place in which I’ve lived until today.
- Certainly. – I agree, looking slightly at the stairs.
- For example, – Elisa announced with a proud tone of voice – I believe this division to be the pearl of the house.

I looked to where she was pointing. It was a sort of gym, illuminated by the natural sunlight coming from the windows, and like any good gym, it had a huge mirror covering an entire wall from top to bottom. I forgot the stairs for a moment, looking astonished at the mirror.

- I always wanted to have a gym here. – Elisa continued, right next to me – and my husband always wanted a music studio. So we decided to combine the two.

She pointed across the corridor, where there was a small room with what appeared to be actually a studio recording of sounds.
- It’s his hobby, music. – she added, with a smile – It was great for my tango’s classes, actually.
- Oh, my God…

Elisa continued to speak, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I couldn’t take my eyes from the huge mirror. Given the right conditions, that mirror could release all the souls from the Limbo.

It’s not like every house where there’s a giant mirror installed right next to a studio sound are conducive to be assaulted by spirits. It’s just that there was a spirit on the loose in that house opening portals everytime he came in here and the Limbo is crawling with souls eager to leave for this world. If they find the portals through which Abel moved… Well, let’s just say that that house would stay on sale until the end of times. And I’d never receive my commission.

I looked back to the stairs. I didn’t hear any steps. Which meant I didn’t know where is the old man was anymore.

Elisa’s voice seemed like coming from the bottom of a well:

- I’m so sorry that my father isn’t alive to see how the house turned out. He’d have trimmed until he get a hoarse throat with what was spent in the reconstruction but I know he would have loved it.
- I can imagine… – I commented, distracted, intensely watching the reflections in the mirror.
- After all, we kept almost everything. We even had the house painted outside with the same color as before…
- Yeah…
- Shall we go to the garden?

The portals open in that house would only be closed when Abel left to the Eternal Lands once and for all. And I had to do it as soon as possible.

- Emma?

Suddenly, I was back to the present:

- Yes?
- So, are you distracted? – she joked.
- No, no… I’m sorry… This huge mirror… It’s fantastic. – I looked around – Nobody would say that this is a basement.

She smiled, with some sadness in her eyes.

- I’d love to see the garden now. – I added, quickly.

She was animated and soon turned to the exit from the basement. I took the chance to quietly look for the stairs again, with all my two ears on alert. I still did not hear anything and simply glanced at the giant mirror before following after Elisa.

Precisely at that moment, a white mist began creeping up slowly out of the mirror, spreading out on the floor of the gym, and two darkened legs emerged out of the mirror. Abel, with a down look in his eyes, walked back out of the Limbo, dressed in some burned tatters. He looked at me with a sad expression. Somewhere in the neighborhood, a dog yelped.

-Oh, no. – I sighed, dispirited – There we go again.

I closed the door immediately and locked it, moving away from it at once. I joined my hands and prayed silently.

It didn’t work, of course. Very, very slowly, the door handle began to turn. Suddenly, the cave went cold. The temperature dropped so fast I heard the door snap to it. Below the door, a white mist began to escape into the corridor, involving my feet in a cold chill. I looked for Elisa. She had already left for the garden, and fortunately, didn’t come back to look for me.

- Abel! – I exclamed, angry.

The fog retreated immediately, completely disappearing under the door.

- You… are… a stubborn old man! You stay there until I meet you, okay? I garantee you’ll have your chance to talk to your daughter! Calm down, please!

I stood there for moments, watching the door. Nothing. Not even a peep. Then I went out to the garden.

- Now my feet are frozen! – I grumped on my way – I hate it when that happens!

The moment I opened the door to the garden, I heard a huge bang behind me. I turned around immediately. The locked door of the gym was shaking madly, and from within came an intense light that illuminated the corridor in a sparking and chaotic way. The violence with which the door rocked on the hinges was such that I was sure it would explode right there and splinter into a thousand pieces.

The sound of a tornado crossed the corridor with fury and the wind came up to me, dropping several items along the way, pulling my hair back. It hit me like a slap in the face.

Photo by Duartte
(www.olhares.com/etraudez)

It’s funny how we form an image of a person we don’t know, and when we see her for the first time, she doesn’t correspond to the image we had of her. In Elisa Nolasco Vieira’s case, however, when she arrived in her car, she had precisely the aspect I’ve imagined: tall, elegant and of an extreme but firm delicacy. She was an attractive and determined woman, who looked a lot younger than she really was.

She stepped out of the car and came straight to me:

- You’re Emma King, aren’t you?
- Yes, I am.
We shaked hands. She had her father’s eyes.
- I’m Elisa. Just Elisa. No “Mrs.”, please.
I laughed:
- Sure, Elisa.
She looked at the house.
- My God. – she vented – I haven’t been here in years.
- Your house is beautiful.
She inclined her head to me, with a sad look in her face:
- The beauty of a house is of no value if we can’t live in it.
I looked at her:
- You’re right.

She said nothing, for a moment. Then she asked:

- Do you know about the fire?
- Yes. That’s precisely what I wanted to talk to you about.
- Oh, really? – she found strange – It happened over ten years ago. Is that what’s making selling this house difficult?
I hesitated to answer:
- Sort of. The more I know about what happened then, the more prepared I’ll be to answer eventual questions by a potential buyer.

Elisa said nothing, simply complying with her head. Then she walked towards the house, with keys in her hand. I went after her. She looked at me, observing me while unlocking the door:
- You’re new at the agency, aren’t you?
I smiled at her:
- Yes, I’ve just started. This is my first house.
- In this case… – she said, laughing as she was entering in the house – I’m so sorry. You could have gotten an easier house to sell.
- It’s okay. I’m not afraid of challenges.

She looked at me again, admired. Then she closed the door behind her and put her things on the little table in the entry, and hanged her coat on the stand. I looked around slightly, looking for any signal of the old man’s presence or the mess that blasted in there the day before. There was neither.

- I love this house. – Elisa whispered, going to the magnificent living-room, with me following after her – When we rebuilt it, we took the opportunity to restore it completely, down to the foundations. When the works were finished, this was not a house anymore, it was a palace.
- I absolutely agree.
- I’ve lived here so many years… Since I was born, actually. My parents bought this house a little before I was born. They wanted to have more children but… My mother died during my delivery.
- Oh, really…? – I said, caught by surprise – I’m sorry.
She smiled:
- Don’t worry. My father took very good care of me, so good he never remarried. He used to say that my mother was the only love of his life and that he didn’t want to have anybody else.
- That’s very romantic.
- Yes, but it’s also very lonely.

She looked around and shake her head, like she was protesting against something:

- He died here in the fire, you know? Alone.
I nodded:
- Yes. I’m so sorry. It’s an awful way to die.
- Yes, it was nothing like my father deserved.

She sighed deeply:

- We tried to carry on and have a normal life after we rebuilt the house, but there was such an atmosphere of sadness so big and so oppressive that it became unbearable to live here. My children, they loved their grandfather, but they couldn’t take it anymore. They’d wake up every night crying…

Her voice broke up but she managed to control herself well:

- We had to leave. We couldn’t stay here anymore. After a few months, we moved to Sintra.
- What a pity. – I commented.
- My husband loved this house as much as I did. Still today, he says that his fondest memories are from here, this house. He even misses the discussions he had with my father. When he died, my husband Charles wept and mourned him like he was his own father and for a long time, he felt guilty for what happened here. Not only him, me too.

- Why? – I asked, surprised.

- We went out to Setubal that weekend, to Charles’s parents. If we haven’t gone out, he would still be alive. Or at least, he wouldn’t have had such a horrible death.

- No one imagines something like that, right, Elisa? I mean, if we were all capable of foretelling the future, we’d all be millionaires by now, right?

She laughed.

- Right.

She looked around the house once more.

- Well, now that I’m here, I have to see the whole house – she said, excited.
I extended my hands in front of her:
- It still is your house.

We explored once more – once more for me – the whole house, from ground-floor to the attic, which had been transformed into a big luxurious office. From division to division,  she spoke for what seemed to be hours, giving me all kind of details about the house and its history, describing the adventure it was to recover it all over again, from its roof to the foundations.

From the inclined windows of the attic, one had a very nice view of the house’s garden and the crop fields that went far beyond sight. It was sunny but it seemed that no sunlight came over the fields, or the house. With crossed arms, Elisa admired the landscape, held to the window:

- The idea was my husband work to here… – she said, with a dreamy look in her face – He spent to much time out, always working, and when we restored the house, we took the change to finally build an office with conditions for him to work, here in the attic, and at the same time, to be with us more time…

Elisa shake her head:

- What a disappointment.

I smiled at her, responsive, looking around. The office was decorated as the rest of the house: with great sumptuousness. It had a large desk made in solid wood, a chair of leather, Persian rugs, sofas, shelves full of books, wooden floor, and a huge plasma TV. My old apartment could fit in there.

A little after, Elisa left the office and I went after her, preparing myself to close the door behind me. When I was about to close it, I noticed, with a thud in the heart, that Abel was there, right in the middle of the office, looking at me with a desperate look in his face.

The poor old man’s body was covered with scars and burns. He started walking towards me and I immediately closed the door. Elise was already going down the stairs. Fortunately, she didn’t look back, otherwise she’d have faced a very unusual scene: me, made silly cheap, diddling around a door.

I heard a noise at the door. The key was in the lock, on my side. The doorknob slowly began to turn and I just locked the lock, before the Abel could open the door.

- Abel! – I called, as loud as I could without attracting Elisa’s attention – Stay there! Please, calm down! You will talk to your daughter, I promise! But now, it really isn’t the right time!

I stood looking at the door for an eternity. To my relief, he left the doorknob. I left running to the stairs, before Elisa noticed my absence. She had continued to descend the stairs to the basement.

In the midstream, I heard a noise comming from upstairs. I stopped and looked up. I listened again, carefully.

Steps.

The stubborn old man didn’t stay in the office.

Photo by Bruno Abreu
(www.olhares.com/Greenstar)

I throwed myself at the sofa and leaned my head back, happy to finally be at home. I realized my husband was also at home, by the sounds reaching my ears, coming from the kitchen.
- Alex? – I called.
- Hi!
I looked at my watch.
- What are you doing at home so early?
- Hello to you too!

I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead. I was completely exhausted. When I opened my eyes again, the man of my life was in front of me, with two cups of tea in his hands and a smile.

- Tough day? – he asked.
- You have no idea.
- By the look of your hair, it looks like you had an unforgetable date with a hurricane.
- All dates with hurricanes are unforgetable, my love. – said I, grabbing one of the cups of tea.

He sat down besides me, and kissed me in my forehead, trying at the same time to give back some order to my hair.

- You’re gonna need some good hours to get it all together again. – he joked, smiling.
- It took me the entire afternoon to clean up that room, it’s bigger than our whole house. It was all turned into a mess.
I sighed loudly:
- I just hope those broken vases weren’t Mings or something like that.
- What’s the story this time? – he asked, laughing.
I leaned myself next to him:
- An old man… A fire… He wants to see the grandchildren… But the house hasn’t been inhabited for over ten years.
- Fantastic! - he said, swallowing a little bit of the tea - Does he look very bad?
- Not when he stays calm.
- They are never stay calm, Emma.
I looked at him. He didn’t smile anymore.
- Don’t worry, love. This one is easy.
He didn’t say a word.

In this, the curtains covering the two great glass doors of our living room, which had a view to the backyard, ondulated and someone came in. It was my boy, in his orange trousers and a white and yellow t-shirt. He came to me:
- Hello, Gustave.
- Hello, Emma. – he replied, pushing up his glasses that almost slippered down his nose.
- To him, you say hello. – grumped Alexandre, supping his tea.
I smiled at him:
- He’s only eleven years old.
I looked again at the kid. His blond hair was all perked.
- Did you see my mother? – he asked, with a lovely childish voice.
I shaked my head.
- She isn’t home yet. - he said, lurking at the exit door - Can I wait for her here?
- Of course you can, honey. – I answered, pointing him the sofa – Sit down there.
He sat down at the sofa, soon changing the television channels with the command.
- I hate it when he does that. – protested Alex.
- Shush… Let him be.

I observed the little one, in silence. He focused on the television, very excited, like he had just received a gift.

- I have to be back there tomorrow. – said I to Alex.
- Of course you have. – he riposted, ironicaly – Damn, Emma… Of all the houses on sale in this country, the first one had to be a haunted one.
- You wanna hear the best of it?
- What?
- It was a joke. My own boss sent me there. The house is so affected that everytime someone gets inside, something happens. He knows that and so, he sents there all newbies…
Alex bursted into laughter.
- It’s not funny, Alex.
- Oh, yes, it is!
He kept laughing, under Gustave’s confused stare.
- Ignore him. – I said to the kid, getting myself up.

I picked my purse and looked for my cell. I consulted the house’s file and dialed a number I found in there. A delicate voice answered me:
- Hello?
- Yes, good afternoon. Am I speaking to Mrs. Elisa Nolasco Vieira?
- This is her.
- How do you do? This is Emma King, from Hugo Hauser.

There was a pause. Then she repeated, hesitant:

- The agency?
- Yes. I’m sorry, is it a bad time to call you? I can call at some another time.
- No, no… Not at all. I just didn’t talk with the agency in a long time. What happened, you managed to sell the house?
- Not yet, unfortunately. Which is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about, if that’s possible. Can you meet me tomorrow? We could meet at the House of Lumiar.
- Can’t we talk now, at the cell?
- I hope you don’t mind, but I’d prefer to talk to you in person. - I answered, with serenity – But if that’s very difficult, I can…
- Hold on a moment, please.

For a minute, I couldn’t hear a thing in the cell. She had covered the speaker. Then finally, I heard her voice again.

- Can it be tomorrow afternoon?

Photo by Jorge Filipe Pires
(www.olhares.com/jorgefpires)

Like I explained before, the frontier between Life and Beyond is an endless limbo. So, if I want to find someone lost around in there, a good way of doing it is through sound. Sound, in some frequencies audible only to animals,  causes the air to vibrate in waves that alter the barriers between their world and ours, in a way that guides the spirit I’m trying to attract to me.

These wandering souls have actually the ability to cross the frontier whenever they want to, but they are not always aware of it. Abel hadn’t yet realize what happened to him, and he was walking around here and there, not knowing that in the way, he was scaring people to death. For those who cannot see them it’s like they don’t exist, but it’s always possible to somehow feel their presence. In Abel’s case, the strength of his presence was tremendous.

Now I needed to call him here, and I had no idea of where he was. It’s more easy to find a lost star in the Universe than a lost soul in the Limbo. Besides the sound, I was going to need a little bit of sunlight.

I took a wrought iron lamp from my bag and put it on top of  a desk that was next to one of the huge windows facing the terrace in the back of the house. One could see the sun getting ready to reach the horizon, and its full light hitting on that window, warming up the main room with the sunset’s colors. Next, I put several little glass vases with a special format on the iron lamp.

Very conveniently installed in the wall next to the desk, was a giant mirror. Mirrors are great entry portals to our world. Sometimes, they come out from there, these wandering souls. I looked around. There were many mirrors in that house.

- No wonder the old man comes here so often.

I went upstairs.

I took a look at all the bedrooms again. There was the main bedroom, a couple’s suite, decorated with all the luxury. There were two other bedrooms, which I understood to be the boy’s. Then there were three more bedrooms that, by the look of it, seemed to be for visitors. The old man’s bedroom was one of those. They had been all remodeled after the fire and it was quite obvious that they’ve had very little use since then.

Now, what? The sun was about to set, I didn’t have much time. Once again, a took a look at all three bedrooms, this time trying to look at them more carefully. That’s when I saw it. In one of the bedrooms, there was a book on the bed. A book that wasn’t there before. I entered the room and picked it up. It looked like it was read many times.

- Huum… – I whispered to myself – Who would have thought of that?

It was a collection of poems from several authors, and it had a page marked by him. It was  Tinúviel’s poem, written by J.R.Tolkien. I recognized it immediately because of the kid that goes to my house. The little one is very fond of the Lord of the Rings, with a passion out of the ordinary for it. Anyway, the old man should probably like that poem a lot. I figured it reminded him of his wife, and so, he read it frequently.

I took the book downstairs, walking by the kitchen.I filled up a jar with water and went to the living room, towards the lamp. The water is an amazing thing. It reflects the light in an extraordinary way, illuminating the darkest corners of wherever we are.

- You are the Queen of the Earth, Fountain of Life. – I whispered while carefully filling up the lamp’s twelve little jars, one by one – Without you, we’re nothing and with you, we’re everything.

The sunlight connected immediately with the water and the living room soon gained an ethereal luminosity.I connected my PDA to the stereo which was covered with dust, but still worked perfectly. I looked for the music I had in mind.

- I know the perfect music for you, old man. – I said, selecting a music that I liked very much myself – We’ll solve your problem quick enough.

I sat down on the sofa, while the delicate sounds of a pan flute softly filled the air, disguising the ultrasounds launched by the PDA. The neighbours’s dogs started barking right away. It was a sweet melody, played together with some notes from a piano and the grave sound of a bass. A fantastic combination, in the opinion of yours truly. I started to read the poem, slowly, in a loud voice:

The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To the music of a pipe unseen…

I kept reading for several minutes, until I finally saw a movement in the corner of my eye.I looked at the light reflected in the mirror by the water lamp. A portal opened there, slowly, like paint spread out in water, only in the middle of the air. Somewhere, a dog yelped and went quiet. One by one, all the other dogs stopped barking.

A human form came up and crossed the portal, slowly walking towards the stereo. There he was, old Abel. He had tears running down his deep wrinkled face, while listening to the melody. Spirits are more affected by music than us, the living ones.

He recited the whole poem with me, which took several more minutes. I read from the book, he knew the whole poem by heart. He looked like my kid. When we finished, I put down the book on the sofa and got up, calmly aproaching the man.

- I can hear you. – I told him, looking him in the eyes – And see you.
He turned to me, stupefied.
- You can see me? – he asked, eyes wide open.
He had incredible blue eyes.
- Yes. My name is Emma. Emma King. And I am your friend.
He smiled:
- You can see me! – he started laughing, very happy and excited like a child – You can see me! You can see me…

He stopped laughing and pointed at the stairs that went upstairs, with an anxious expression in his face.

- There was a fire… And… And…

He started trembling, with the frustration of the old people who wanted to express themselves faster and couldn’t because of the old age. The moved me immensely and I grabbed his hand:

-I know.

He looked at me, surprised. It’s been years since he was touched by someone and his hand was freezing cold. Heat is something that exists only in our world. The Limbo is an arid place, scarped, dark and cold.

- I’m here, Abel. I’m here with you and I’ll be with you until you tell me what you’ve been trying to tell your family all these years.

He stared me, even more stupefied.

- I have all the time of the world. – I promised him, confident.

Again, tears invaded the deep blue of his eyes:
- I tried… I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen to me. And then, they disappeared.
- And whenever they came back here, you tried even harder, right? Because when they came, it was always for a very short time.
- Yes! Yes!

“Unfortunately, it scared them even more”, I thought.

- Upstairs… – he said – I was sleeping and… and… I felt my legs hot… But I was so dizzy, and I tried to get up… But I fell! And it hurt! It hurt so bad…

His body began to suffer a strange transformation. His hands and legs caught fire and started to crumple, burning like paper. In his face, the scars started to show up again.

- Abel… – I called – Abel!

He suddenly woke up, wide opening his eyes and fixing them on me. The scars and the flames disappeared.

- Abel, did you fall asleep with a cigarrete in your hands, or in your mouth, in your bedroom?
- No!
His eyes were flooded with with tears again:
- I don’t know… I don’t know!

“OK.”, I thought, “We have a problem.”

- I used to smoke a lot but not in my bedroom. I don’t even know why I was in my bedroom. I don’t know how the fire started. I was so dizzy.… Like I had my pills. .. But I didn’t take anything! I only take them at night!

“So, either the police made a mistake, or someone lied.”

- That’s what I’ve been trying to tell my grandchildren and my daughter. Until I tell them, I cannot leave in peace.

He looked at the stereo. The melody filled the air with sweet sounds, which seemed to sooth him.

- I am not the one who started the fire. – he walked towards the stereo – It wasn’t me who destroyed the house.

He put his hand on top of the stereo, and an expression of sadness invaded his look:

- But they are not here now. They have disappeared for ever… - he looked at me - …and this house will never be the same again.

In this, a shadow rapidly overwhelmed the living room and a violent tornado formed at precisely the same spot where the old man appeared, when he left the Limbo. I clung on to a sofa. The daylight completely went gone and Abel was sucked in by the tornado, vanishing through into the vortex, towards the mirror. The beautiful melody changed into a cacophony of terrible sounds, meddling with the strong wind. The tornado throwed everything in that room to the air, breaking several objects in the way, and when it finished swallowing Abel, it dissolved as fast as it had suddenly formed itself. The sunlight returned to the room and the wind stopped blowing around me. The book of Abel fell at my feet.

I looked around, feeling my hair gradually falling down back to my head. The whole place was a mess.

- Beautiful. – I grumbled.

Photo by João Azevedo
(www.olhares.com/Jonas)

I stopped the car right in front of the house. Now that I knew what was going on inside of it, I looked at it with new eyes. It was a house like the others all along that gardened street, but with a much more recent look. It had a plaque on top of the main entrance saying “The House of Lumiar”, although the street was in the outskirts of Lumiar, and not really in the city.

I grabbed my purse, a bag that I brought from home, my briefcase and I left the car. The moment I locked the car, I saw an old lady coming out of the house on the other side of the street. She was wearing a shaul and was trying to get warmer in it. It was a quite cool Autumn’s evening that day.

- Good evening. – she greeted, when she got near me.
- Good evening.
- You’re from the agency, aren’t you?
- Yes, I am. – I confirmed, showing her my hand – My name is Emma King.

She shaked hands with me:

- How are you? I’m Martha Olivera, I live right here in front. You’ve been here today, haven’t you?
- Yes, I came here again for…
- I saw an ambulance taking a young woman from here.

I hesitated for a moment, looking at the lady and trying to figure out what was it that she wanted.

- My coleague felt sick and fainted. – I explained – She hit the floor with her head and I had to call an ambulance.
- Oh, my God! – she distressed, holding her hand against the chest – Is she all right?
- I’m sure she is. I haven’t talked with her yet, but I asked her parents to…
- This house was always a place of misfortunes. – she suddenly vented.

That was when I shut myself up. I looked at her more carefully. She should be over sixty years old. Dyed hair, dressed in the finest clothes, very short, tired and heavily wrinkled eyes, well disguised by a good make-up. There was an expression of goodness in her face.

- How come? – I asked.
- There was a fire and the house was nearly destroyed.
The mention of “fire” let me fully aware:
- Really?
- Yes. Since then, there have been a series of freak accidents…
- Freak accidents? – I reapeated, very interested.
- Yes. There was an old man, older than me. He owned the house and lived here since his retirement. Mr. Abel, that was his name. Abel Nolasco.
- Abel Nolasco?
- Yes, and he smoked a lot. He really smoked a lot. He used to say that if he stopped smoking, he’d die. Irony of the ironies, one day he fell asleep with a cigarrette on in his hands and on top of that, you won’t believe it, the gas in the stove was not properly closed. One thing joined the other and there was an explosion that was heard in the whole neighbourhood. It broke the glass of every window of my house. – she added, pointing at her own house behind her – And of the other houses on the sides too, of course.

She took a deep breath:

- Poor little things. They were so young…
- Who?
- The grandchildren! – she exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders, like it was obvious – The two grandchildren, Peter and Richard. They must be grown up by now… I never saw them again, since they left. You cannot imagine what they suffered with the death of their grandfather…
She shaked her head:
- They loved him.
- What do you mean, they left? They lived here?
- Yes, Abel lived here with his daughter Elizabeth and his son-in-law, Charles, and their two children, but they were all out that weekend. They went to lunch at Charles’s parents house, in Setubal. Abel only didn’t go because he felt sick.
- I don’t remember reading anything about a fire in the file…

I searched for a paper and read what was written in it:

- The house is in the name of Elizabeth Nolasco Vieira.
- Well, the house was Abel’s. When he died, it went to his daughter. They got to be very well, you know? Elizabeth inherited a lot of money and several properties from Abel. At the time, Charles was not going well with his finances and it all appeared to be a cruel coincidence. The police was here and everything! Poor Charles almost got arrested because they suspected that he was the one who had set the fire.
- Yeah, I can imagine.
- But it was the police itself that came to the conclusion that the fire was an accident.

I love people like Martha. They tell everything we need to know without us having to ask almost anything.

- The little ones suffered a great deal. – she continued – They took a long time to get over their grandfather’s death. I remember it as clearly as it happened yesterday.
She shaked her head again:
- Poor little ones! On top of that, they had to go to another house that was strange to them, while this one was being rebuilt. The reconstruction took months and when they came back, the house was the same but at the same time… It wasn’t the same anymore, you know?
- How do you mean?
- They recovered the house, you see, and made it exactly like it was before, with the same color and everything. They only took the chance to upgrade the drains and the electricity’s cables, and all that. But when they came back here…

And once more, she shaked her head.

- Strange things started to happen. Pictures that fell on the ground by themselves and broke. Books that disappeared from the shelves, objects that changed places without anyone touching them, especially in Abel’s bedroom. There were screams in the middle of the night… The kids woke up crying. And once in while, there was a smell of tobacco’s smoke in the air, but nobody smoked in the house, except Abel. It was like Abel was still alive, you know? It gives me the shivers!

I could but smile.

- They lived here for a… Four more months, I think. After that, they left and never came back. They put the house to sell about ten years ago but so far, they didn’t manage to sell it. You see, everytime someone gets in the house, something bad happens. When you came here today, this house haven’t had any visitors in a year. And suddenly, I see an ambulance here? My God, I don’t even dare to get inside there!
- Yeah, well… – I said – I’m gonna to have to get inside. I have to sell the house.
- I don’t want to discourage you, but I don’t think you’re going to make it.

I smiled again:

- We’ll see. – I showed her my hand again – Thank you very much for your time, Martha. You gave me some very precious informations.
- Precious? – she found strange, shaking my hand and laughing.
- Yes, precious. Thank you very much. Have a nice evening.
- Likewise.

And I headed towards the house, feeling Martha’s eyes nailed in my back.

Photo by Paulo Medeiros
(www.olhares.com/paulomed)

When I arrived at the agency, I went straight to my boss’s office, going so fast that I made several pieces of paper fly out of Grace’s desk. She grabbed the sheets as she could, completely taken by surprise. I found my boss sat at his desk.

- Hello, Paul. – I greeted him, coldly.

He looked at me, leaning back at his chair with an amused expression in his face.
- Emma! So, did you find the House of Lumiar?
- Umhum! – then I added with an ironic tone – I also found the old man.

He pretended not to follow:
- What old man?
I put my hands on the desk and said, firmly:
- The all burned up old man, who lives there. Only, he doesn’t live.

He couldn’t hold himself any longer and bursted into a laughter, beating the desk as hard as he was laughing, like crazy. Outside his office, everyone else started laughing as well.

- It’s not funny, Paul. Joan fainted with the scare.
He laughed even more:
- Emma, we do that to every beginner. The House of Lumiar is like a test, you know? Whomever walks out of there on his own feet…
And he bursted again into a laughter, beating the desk. I just stood there, looking astonishingly at him.
- Don’t be so mad, Emma! It was just a joke!
I crossed my arms, angry:
- Joan is in the hospital.

He finally stopped laughing and looked at me open mouthed, stupefied. Outside, silence fell like a rock.

- In the hospital?! – he shouted.
- Yes, in the hospital. I had to call the ambulance. When she fainted, her head hit the floor so hard that I’ll be really surprised if they don’t find her a head trauma.

He couldn’t say a word. I prepared myself to leave the office.

- Where are you going? – he mumbled.
- To the House of Lumiar.
He jumped out of the chair, like he got an electric shock:
- What?! No!

I faced him, surprised.
- You don‘t have to!  – he continued, walking around the desk – I’ll give you another house!
- I don‘t want another house. I want this one.
- This house have been for sale for years! No one can sell it, Emma!
- I want to go there anyway.

He stared at me, dumbfounded:
- But why?! I mean…
- Is the house for sale or not? – I asked.
- Yes.
- And who is to sell it, Hugo Hauser, right?
- Right. – he answered, carefully.
- And to whom did you assign the sale of this house?
He looked ever more suspiciously at me:
- You.

I smiled at him:
- That‘s right.

And I left the office, gladly observing the stunned look of all my colleagues as I walked by them towards the exit.

Photo by Marc Dargent
(www.olhares.com/baphil)

I only started to get involved with haunted houses when I became a realtor. Before coming to Hugo Hauser, I was an administrative assistant who worked in several different enterprises for years, until I got a job as a secretary in the agency, where I stayed for a year before I decided to change carreers and start selling houses too.

As I was new to the job, my fellow coleagues decided to play a practical joke on me and on another young woman, who was also giving her first steps on this profession. The most enthusiastic of them was my boss, the one who assigned us the sale of an house that everyone in the agency knew to be haunted, somewhere in Lumiar.

Haunted houses worth a lot less in the market than “normal” houses. Every client claims not to believe in ghosts, but the truth is nobody wants to buy an house that is suspected to be inhabited by presences from Beyond. We had no idea that the House of Lumiar had been for sale for years, and that it was famous in Hugo Hauser for the existence of paranormal activities.

Obviously, no one in the agency knew about my “special talent”, right? The ability to see and speak with ghosts is not something I’d put in my resumé.

So, we went to Lumiar. We wanted to see the house first, before selling it. As soon as we arrived there, we explored it from top to ground. We checked out every division The whole was decorated with an unexpected luxury:  furniture in solid wood, huge lamps, sofas in leather, Persian rugs, beautiful paintings on the walls… There was no reason why that house was still for sale, and we were precisely commenting on that when, on our way back to the main room of the house, we found a man of very old age right in the middle of the sofas.

- Who are you? – I asked, surprised.

Then I looked around:

- And how did you come in here?

The old man looked at us, wide opening his eyes with surprise. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he raised his arms and started sliding toward us. His aspect changed suddenly into something meager and ugly, covered with scars and what seemed to be burns all over his body. When he was just about to reach us, he opened his mouth and a hideous scream reverberated throughout the house, making the walls tremble.

It scared the hell out of me, but my coleague fainted, hitting the floor with her head. When I looked again at the old man, he was gone.

- What the hell is going on in here?! – I asked loudly, still trembling.

It took me a few minutes to calm down, looking around at every direction. When I stopped trembling, I tried to wake up my coleague, softly pocking her face:

- Joan… – I called – Wake up, girl, come on…

She slowly opened her eyes and soon took her hand to her head. She moaned, not awaking completely. I helped her to get up and sit down on the sofa.

- What happened? – she asked, with a weak voice – My head is… I feel like I was hit by a truck.
- It was no truck.

She looked weirdly at me.

- You felt sick suddenly and fainted. – I rushed to explain – Stay right there and don’t move. I’m going to call an ambulance.
- An ambulance…? But do you have to…?
- Yes, I have to. I didn’t l like the sound your head did when it hit the floor.

I called the emergencies number in my cell. She took her hand to her head again and looked around, confused:

- Wasn‘t there an old man?
- What old man? – I immediately answered – There was no old man here! Now, stay still.

While I was waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I went looking for the old man in every division of the house, but he didn’t show up again. I thought about the expression of suffering he had in his face when he released that horrible scream. I felt shivers running down my spine again. But there was an infinite supplication in his eyes. That man wasn’t trying to scare us. He was trying to communicate with us.

I called the agency. My boss’s secretary answered with her smoking voice revealing her over fifty years old of age:
- Hugo Hauser, Inc., good afternoon, Grace Meyer speaking.
- Hello, Grace. – I greeted – Is Paul there?
- Not at the moment, dear.
I was about to explain what happened, when I heard someone else talking behind her:
- So, have they seen any ghosts yet?
A general laughter invaded my ears.
- Shut up! – shouted Grace, not covering completely the phone’s speaker – Go on, Emma.

I hung up the cell. I felt stupid and angry at the same time. I looked at Joan, semi-fainted on the sofa. Concerning ghosts, there are three kinds of people in this world: the ones who believe in ghosts, the ones who don’t believe in ghosts and the “others”. Of all of them, the “others“ are the most dangerous. They don’t believe nor cease to believe, and deal with these phenomena like kids playing with matches.

When the ambulance came, I told them that the young woman felt sick and fell round on the middle of the floor. From her cell, I found her parents contact and I informed them that they had their daughter in the hospital. After that, I went straight to the agency.

Photo by Vitor Reinecke
(www.olhares.com/VITORREI)
(www.focusnatura.com)

There always were ghosts and there always will be ghosts. It’s as certain as there’s life here on Earth.

Every living being is composed by two things: the part that lives and breaths, and the part that is spiritual. Usually, when the part that lives and breaths stops breathing and living, the spiritual part separates itself from the body and leaves this Earth towards Beyond, the Other World, the Other Life, or whatever you want to call it. The problem is that not all leave in a peaceful way, even getting to the point where they don’t leave at all.

And that’s where the troubles begin.

There are those who stand between this life and the Other Side, even after they died and their bodies have turned into dust. For some reason, they cannot – or don’t want to – cross over and they stay around, some of them for centuries. They have ceased to exist a long time ago and yet, they exist still, though not at the same existential plan that we do. They are between lives, lost in an endless limbo, from where there’s no possible escape, unless they get help. Which is problematic, since we cannot always see them, and they cannot always see us.

I’d say that, without any kind of training, only one per cent of the world’s population can see them effortlessly. That means that there’s about sixty million people in the whole world that are able to get a glimpse of these presences from Beyond. Of these sixty million, do you know how many keep their mental sanity after having an encounter with one of these apparitions?

Very, very few.