Houses rarely came up for auction in the Bay Area unless they were having trouble being sold the traditional way.ĭavid stood on the sidewalk, admiring the house, then joined a group of people milling around on the porch. Having this dilapidation next door was a concern to him, but he knew the struggling neighborhood was why this house might be within his budget. Its sagging roof looked as if it were about to collapse under its own weight.

Boarded-up windows shut it off from the world. The lush garden in front and solar panels on the roof told David that the neighbor at least cared about the environment. The house to the right looked well-maintained and freshly painted. This house stood out as a jewel of stained glass and solid construction, ready for the urban renewal and gentrification poised to come. Now, most of those stately homes were divided into multifamily units or abandoned entirely, boarded up with graffiti-tagged plywood. At one time, the neighborhood had been upscale, and the street lined with mansions.

It was smaller than the other houses on the street. The two ornate second-story windows were a pair of friendly eyes watching over the urban neighborhood. It had a large, open front porch, begging for a pair of wicker chairs and a small table, where its owners could sit with a cup of coffee or a glass of wine and wave to their neighbors. Others might look at a neglected Victorian house as possibly haunted, or at the very least a potential money pit, but that thought never entered David’s mind. When David first saw the house, he felt no fear. For Melissa, who keeps all my ghosts at bay.

A Man Among Ghosts by Steven Hopstaken