By Keith Steeclif
Hunter parked his car in front of the brownstone. Just like his sister had told him, it was a fabulous old building. He rang the bell.
A man answered the door and when Hunter said he was there to look at the apartment, he looked surprised.
“For you?”
“Yes, for me. I’m Hunter.”
“A woman called about the apartment.”
“That was my sister.”
“I’m sorry, the apartment’s not available.”
“What do you mean,” she just talked to you an hour ago.
“It’s not available.”
“Really, well there are laws against discrimination you know. Did I mention I’m in law school?”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s the apartment, you wouldn’t want to live there.”
“You seemed to talk it up pretty good to my sister.”
“Well, I thought it was for her.”
“I see.”
“No, it’s not like that. Look, come in, I’ll show you the apartment and explain what I’m talking about.”
The man let him in the front door which opened into a grand entryway and a spiral staircase. Marble floors led to the steps and Hunter followed the man up the stairs.
“This building used to be a men’s boarding house for the university back in the 30’s when the school was first opened. The apartment at the top used to be the rooms of the house monitor.
“The last house monitor was Jonathon Krangle from 1948-1949. He was a graduate student at the university.”
They walked up to the top floor. It was quite a climb, but the building was magnificent. All the older fixtures were intact and lovingly restored. They approached the apartment door. It was the only apartment on this floor and the door was down a long corridor. Such good construction, that Hunter knew he could play his music without a soul hearing.
They entered the apartment and Hunter knew he had to have it. It was huge and gorgeous. It was mostly empty, except for a small writing desk in one room and a bed in another. The bed was old and solid with thick bedposts.
“That was Jonathon’s bed,” the landlord said, “The building was unoccupied for about twenty years, and when it was reopened as an apartment building in the early 70’s, every tenant since then has used that bed frame. Which hasn’t been any problem for the last twenty years because a single woman lived here.”
“What does that mean?”
“Jonathon was doing graduate work in biology and psychology, planning on going to med school one day. The reason why the boarding house was shut down was because of the experiments he was conducting in these rooms.”
“Experiments?”
“Jonathon believed that he could find the link between psychology and physical health. He believed that certain emotions effected a person’s general health. Something we kind of take for granted today, but back then it was an unfounded theory. So Jonathon solicited the young men in the boarding house to take part in his experiments.”
“What kind of experiments.”
“Did you ever hear the expression that laughter is the best medicine?”
“Sure,” Hunter replied.”
“Well, Jonathon was trying to demonstrate that daily, prolonged laughter would illicit good health. And his experiments required the men of the boarding school to come up to these apartments every day and be tickled by Jonathon for twenty minutes.”
“Tickled? Are you serious? He was tickling all the residents for an experiment?”
“He theorized that boisterous laughter warms the body cavity and jogs the organs, promoting good health. And that the extreme laughter of being tickled for extended periods of time is good for the lungs and heart.
“So every day, each of the men who lived in this house would come up to Jonathon’s apartment, allow themselves to be strapped to that bed, and tickled for twenty minutes.
“The strange thing is that this went on for months and not one boy, not one, ever told anyone else about it or complained. In fact, it was found out later that participation was voluntarily and every single lad had taken part willingly. One of the men, Peyton Black, even served as his assistant, helping him tickle the other men. It was rumored that they were lovers.
“Anyway, one day, the father of one of the residents stopped by to take his son to lunch. When he didn’t find him in his room, the father came up here. This building is very solid and he didn’t hear anything at first, but as he approached the door he heard the faint sounds of laughter. He knocked on the door, but no one heard. It was unlocked so he entered. He found his son in the bedroom, strapped shirtless and barefoot to the bed and Jonathon and Peyton tickling his bare soles with feathers.
“The father flew into a rage. He got his son out of the apartment and out of the house. He went straight to the chancellor of the university. His son protested, confessed his complete willingness in participating in the exercise, and begged his father to let him go back. The father was a powerful banker and the chancellor took immediate action by expelling both Jonathon and Peyton.
“Well, word of what had happened moved faster than the university officials and some of the other men at the boarding house rushed home to tell Jonathon and Peyton what had happened. When the officials arrived at the apartment, they found Jonathon and Peyton dead, a duo-suicide.”
“Oh, how awful,” Hunter said, enthralled, “Is that why the building was unoccupied for twenty years?”
“Yes, there were rumors that Jonathon and Peyton were haunting the house. Neighborhood children were teased by their older siblings, telling them that if they went inside, they would be tickled to death. And they said if you listened closely to the wind through the empty building, you could hear the laughter of all the men that were tickled by the ghosts of Jonathon and Peyton.”
“Childhood games,” Hunter remarked.
“Perhaps not,” the landlord said, “There’s a reason why I only rent this apartment to women. Every man that has tried to live here since has been visited by the ghosts of Jonathon and Peyton. They reported waking up in the middle of the night, unable to move and feeling wispy fingers dancing across their feet and torso. Most have moved out in just a few days. So when a woman moved in twenty years ago, the haunting stopped and there hasn’t been any reports since.”
“What happened to her?”
“She moved to the West coast. So I hope you understand now what I mean when I say you don’t want this apartment.”
“Not so fast,” Hunter said, “Tickling ghosts? You think I’m gullible enough to fall for that? This place is great and I want it.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” the man said.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m not very ticklish.”
“It won’t matter, once they get their hands on you.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. When can I move in?”
“How about this – before you sign a lease, spend the night here. If, after that, you still want to live here, I won’t object.”
Hunter agreed and made arrangements to come back that very night. Returning with some things for the evening, he was actually pretty anxious – not for fear of being tickled by ghosts, but by the possibility of being tickled by ghosts.
Hunter had always loved being tickled although, as he had told the landlord, he wasn’t very ticklish at all. So if he was visited by tickling ghosts, Hunter thought he’d really like that.
So he made up the old bed and settled in for the night. At first he couldn’t sleep, listening to every noise and keeping an eye on every corner. But eventually, he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke suddenly and wasn’t sure why. He’d left the light on in the room on purpose, not because he was afraid but if there were ghosts he wanted to see them. His feet were uncovered. Not unusual, Hunter usually kicked back the covers as he slept. So he covered his feet back up and closed his eyes.
A few moments later, he felt a tug at the end of the bed. Looking down, he saw the covers slowly pull up the bed until his feet are again exposed to the air. Hunter’s heart raced a little. Could there really be such things as ghosts? He didn’t move. He closed his eyes again and waited.
Then he felt it. It was the lightest brushing of his left sole, but he was sure he felt something. His toes wiggled reflexively. A couple seconds later, he felt it again. It was like an ethereal finger running down his arch. And Hunter’s foot twitched because it tickled far more than Hunter would have expected.
Hunter looked down at the end of the bed and there was no one there. He tried to cover his feet back up and realized he couldn’t move. He could wiggle his toes and lift his head, but other than that he was completely immobilized.
Then Hunter noticed a shimmer of light at the end of the bed. The light grew brighter and then divided into two. The lights floated in mid-air and then started to expand and take shape. Hunter could not move, just watch as the two forms grew into silhouettes. Then the shadows coalesced until they looked solid.
Two young men were kneeling at the end of the bed. About Hunter’s age, in their mid-twenties, they were very handsome men. They looked real enough, except they had this pale glow around them.
“Oh Jonathon, it’s been so long,” the black haired man said. “And such a great looking young man.”
“Yes, Peyton, too long. Too long. But look at his feet, Peyton, at those soles and toes. An excellent specimen.” Jonathon had blond hair.
“Specimen? Oh, Jonathon, you are always so clinical. His feet look delicious, Jonathon, absolutely delicious and I’m going to enjoy tickling them very much.”
“Peyton, please. This is serious work we’re about. We’ll bring this man health. Health I tell you.”
“Whatever, Jonathon, I just want to tickle.”
“What are you doing?” Hunter said. The two apparitions looked stunned.
“Is he talking to us, Jonathon?” Peyton said.
“Yes, I’m talking to you. How come I can’t move?”
“He can hear us, Petyon!” Jonathon said. “And he seems to be looking right at us. Can you see us?”
“Yes, I can see you and I can hear you. What are you going to do to me?”
“Oh, Jonathon, this is wonderful!” Peyton exclaimed. “After all these years, and that awful woman living in our apartment, finally a handsome man to entertain us.”
“Not entertain, Peyton. This man will finally once and for all allow me to prove my theory. Tell me, young man, what is your name?”
“Hunter.”
“Hunter? And tell me Hunter, are you feeling well?”
“Mostly, except I can’t move.”
“That’s us,” Peyton said, “we can do that. We can make you move or lay still as a board. Still as a board’s better for what we’re going to do to you. Tell him what we’re going to do, Jonathon.”
“Please, Hunter, ignore my companion here. I assure you, our intentions are nothing but honorable.”
“I know of your intentions. I know what you used to do to men here in this room all those years ago. But you’ll be disappointed by me, I’m afraid. You see, I’m not very ticklish.”
“Oh, no need to worry about that, Hunter,” Jonathon said, “we can take care of that as well.”
“What?” Hunter asked. He’d truly never been very ticklish and always secretly envied the boys that were. He wondered what it must feel like to be ticklish if it caused such an extreme reaction. Hunter soles started to tingle in anticipation and he wiggled his toes nervously.
“Look, Jonathon,” Peyton said, pointing at Hunter’s toes, “Look at them wiggle. He knows he’s in for it now. Please, can’t I start?”
“Very well,” Jonathon said, “now, Hunter, we are going to…”
Before Jonathon could explain, Peyton lowered his glowing fingers to Hunter’s foot. Starting at the right heel, he started to slowly roll his fingers upward. By the time he started moving up Hunter’s arch, Hunter found himself giggling, his feet twitching and toes wiggling.
“Hey, no. Hee hee hee! Hey, stop that,” Hunter said. So this was what it was like to be ticklish. Waves of sensations, like electric currents were running from his right sole to the rest of his body. Hunter started to laugh softly.
“Not ticklish, huh?” Peyton said with a smile.
“Don’t tease, Peyton,” Jonathon said. “We have work to do.”
Jonathon started tickling Hunter’s left sole while Peyton renewed his torment of the right. Hunter’s laughter grew and grew until he was hysterical, thrashing his head about and wiggling his toes madly. He couldn’t rub his feet together, he couldn’t pull away, he could do nothing but wiggle his helpless toes and laugh his head off.
Soon, Hunter was completely consumed by the tickling. Having never been ticklish before and now finding himself extremely sensitive, his whole body was atwitter with energy. He had to admit he was hating it and loving it at the same time. After a while though, he realized it was also getting him excited.
“Continue with his feet,” Jonathon said as he stood and came along side the bed. With a gesture from his hand, the covers pulled down to Hunter’s waist. Hunter’s arms were at his side but slowly they started to lift up, up, up until they were pointing toward the ceiling, then down, down, down until they were up over his head. Hunter’s ribs and armpits were completely exposed.
Peyton looked up from his foot tickling to check out Hunter’s well muscled torso. “Nice,” he remarked.
“Indeed,” Jonathon agreed and then immediately moved his fingers toward Hunter’s stomach. Rolling his fingers and moving slowly, he worked his way across Hunter’s stomach, up his sides, ribs, and armpits. Already bellowing with laughter from Peyton’s relentless foot tickling, Hunter was even more hysterical as Jonathon tickled his now ultra-ticklish body.
Hunter remembered the landlord saying that each man came to Jonathon for twenty minutes of tickling. He wasn’t sure how long this tickling had lasted so far, but he was sure it was close to twenty minutes. His stomach was getting sore from all the laughing.
Then Hunter heard Peyton say to Jonathon, “Wow, this has never happened before.”
Jonathon and Peyton both looked where Peyton indicated. The covers were well tented.
Jonathon looked at Hunter with a gleam in his eyes. Then he looked at Peyton who stood. They both paused in their tickling and Hunter was panting hard.
As Hunter recovered, he realized the two men started floating. They floated up over the bed, facing down so they were looking down at the bed. They floated up alongside one another, their heads toward the end of the bed. Then they slowly descended until their mouths were just a couple inches away from Hunter’s toes.
Just as he realized what was about to happen, the two ghosts wrapped their mouths around Hunter’s toes. They used their free hands to tickle up and down his hyper-ticklish bare soles. His eyes shut, laughing hysterical, Hunter couldn’t distinguish anything non-corporeal about the two men sucking and tickling his feet. He could feel their moist tongues darting between his toes. He could feel the soft pads of their fingers and rigid scraping of their fingernails on his soft, tender soles. Other than the fact that he knew these two ghosts were now floating above him, Hunter felt the connection of two men bringing unspeakable pleasure to his body.
Without touching him in any other way, the two ghosts continued nibbling Hunter’s toes and tickling his soles until he made a loud groaning noise and tensed his whole body. The experience lasted for many, many seconds before Hunter slumped back completely exhausted.
Mercifully, the two ghosts stopped tickling Hunter’s feet, although Jonathon had to chastise Peyton for trying to start again.
“He’s done well, Peyton,” Jonathon said calmly. “We must let him rest now. There is always tomorrow.”
In a flash, the two ghosts vanished. Hunter could move again and he looked at his clock. He’d woken up at about 11:00 and it was now 11:45. So the two ghosts had been tickling him for three-quarters of an hour. Jonathon was right, Hunter needed to rest and he was quickly sound asleep.
Hunter was suddenly jolted out of sleep as his covers flew off the bed and he was once again immobilized. Looking at his clock, it was 12:01.
Peyton suddenly appeared floating above Hunter, the man and ghost face-to-face. “It’s tomorrow,” Peyton said with a devilish grin.
Peyton tickled Hunter well into the night, alternating between torso and feet and occasionally bringing Hunter to release.
Hunter awoke early the next morning, unsure of how long Peyton had tickled him, only knowing he finally passed out in complete exhaustion. Peyton had been relentless, tickling Hunter to the absolute edge of his limits and then bringing him back again. There were moments when Hunter thought Peyton was trying to tickle him to death, trying to make him a ghost too. But each time, Peyton backed off just enough for Hunter to recover before it started all over again.
Showering and dressing, Hunter walked downstairs on shaky legs as soon as the hour was decent. He knocked on the landlord’s door.
“How did you sleep?” the landlord asked with a twinge of sarcasm.
“I want to sign the lease.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Is a two year lease available?”
Later that day, Hunter called his sister.
“Did you check that apartment out yet?” she asked.
“Yesterday. The movers are at work as we speak.”
“Great. It’s just what you need. Now if we can just get you a boyfriend, you’ll be all set.”
“Oh, I’ve got that covered too.”
“Really? What’s his name.”
“Their names – Jonathon and Petyon.”
“Oh, Hunter, you are a sly one. When can I meet them?”
“I’m not sure, I’ll have to see if that would work. You’ll have to come over to the new apartment though, they don’t get out much.”
“I’m sure I’ll be tickled to meet them.”
“I don’t know about that, but I sure was,” Hunter said with a grin. He dreaded the day ahead. Not because he didn’t like his job, but because it would be eight hours before he could get back home. Jonathon and Peyton promised to be waiting.
At work, Hunter surfed the Internet and found articles and references to the haunted boarding house. He even found a scan of an old picture of Jonathon and Peyton. Once he got his computer set up at home, he’d have to show them. He was sure they’d get a kick out of it.
On the way home that night, Hunter found a craft store and bought a basket full of feathers and brushes.
As he walked into the entryway, Hunter came across the landlord. Starting that day, and every day thereafter, whenever the landlord asked him how he was doing, Hunter would give him a knowing wink and reply, “I’m tickled pink.”