An Open and Shut Case

I’m sitting at my desk getting ready to do some research on historic Route 66, when all of a sudden, a buzzing vibration noise comes from the garage beneath me. The door is opening. Yes, opening! I am upstairs typing, no one else is here, except the dog, and she doesn’t have a remote opener. I lift my hands from the keyboard and drop them in my lap. I close my eyes and shake my head, as the door rolls to a stop. This is the third time it has happened.

There is no reason for this.

The first time was on a Saturday night a few weeks ago. I was sitting in the family room and heard that familiar noise I used to hear every evening about dinner time as my husband arrived home from the office.  He died a year and a half ago. It frightened me, and I called the police. Later, I attributed it to Mama and wrote a story about how I always told Mama to come back after she died and ring my doorbell. The permanent opener for the garage door on the wall outside the back door is like a doorbell.

The second time it happened was last Saturday morning, only it was the other way around. It closed! I had a dog grooming appointment and was rushing to leave on time and took the dog outside through the garage to the island across the street — yes, across the street! — so she could attend to her business before we got in the car. All of a sudden, the door started closing. Yes, closing! I screamed and pulled and dragged the dog back across the street and tried to make it under the door before it touched the ground, like Indiana Jones, but no such luck. I didn’t even get a foot under it. So I’m slammed locked out of the house. Locked out! Seriously. No way in. Period. My first instinct was to cry, but time was of essence, and I didn’t have it for crying. My neighbor Ken had to come to my rescue with his ladder.

I sort of attributed that to Mama, too, because I had done something she wouldn’t have liked. Now, today? Did Mama push that button today? Yes, there’s something she wants me to do today, and I know exactly what it is, and I have no intentions of doing it, and she never was one to let it go.

So either Mama needs to find somewhere else to meddle, or I need to call the D&D garage door boys tomorrow! I think I should hang my hat on the latter solution.

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