Mayhem, Mischief & Maxine...

On a rainy spring evening, as I was closing up the shop a couple of years ago, a picture fell off the wall.  Since I had just placed the picture on the wall, I figured I hung it incorrectly and returned to put it back, this time making sure it was secure.  I never gave it another thought. 

The next morning, I arrived back at the shop to "wake it up".  That's what I call the time before customers begin to arrive.  I make a fresh pot of coffee, light the candles, turn on some Frank Sinatra and do a walk through to make sure everything is as it should be.  But on that morning, it wasn't.

The picture that I had hung on the wall the night before, had once again mysteriousl fell to the floor.  It was a bit more dramatic this time - as a small vase and a vintage figurine had also joined in this game of gravity.  Oddly, those two items were not in the path of the fallen picture.  With more important things to do then wonder and worry about the how and why, I put everything back in its proper place and went about my morning.

Throughout the rest of that year, the above situation I just described would repeat itself.  Sometimes a book would fall; other times a picture frame would be askew... but it wasn't until I felt a moment of cold while walking down the hallway one evening that I knew our little shop had a ghost.  You see, I never, ever, EVER, feel cold.  I am completing my fifth year of menopause.  The only time I feel cold is when I bury my head in the freezer during a hot flash.  And even then, it's more of a gentle chill.  Not at all the sub-freezing cooling that I so desperately need.

I didn't tell anyone at first about our little 2nd Avenue Spirit.  But as the weeks and months went on, I wasn't the only person who began to notice and feel things.  Customers would occasionally mention that they "felt" a presence, and I would light heartedly tell them, ah yes, that's our ghost.  It always struck up a fun and lively conversation but that was it.  Until it wasn't.

One day, a gentleman who owns an accounting firm on 3rd Avenue stopped by the shop.  It was his first time in and he seemed to truly enjoy perusing around our eclectic, quirky shop.  As he brought his items to the register, he quite casually said, "so you have a ghost too?"  I smiled and then giggled, and replied, "how do you know that?"  He said his building had one too and while his was friendly as well, he was growing a bit tired of his shenanigans.  He went on to tell me exactly where he felt his presence and to my surprise, that was the exact location where our ghost seemed to linger.  He asked if I had named our ghost and to his disappointment, I had not.  He assigned me with the task of naming him and after much thought, I decided upon, Percival.  Sir Percival  was the most loyal of King Arthur's knights, and it's also a pretty cool name for a ghost.

I found myself talking to Percival throughout the day - anytime something was where it shouldn't be, I blamed him.  I must confess, sometimes I think it wasn't always him.  Customers don't seem to enjoy putting things back where they found them and Lord knows I have the attention span of a drunk flea and sometimes don't put things where they belong, but even so, it was fun to "chat" with him as I closed up the shop at night and tell him to please not make too much of a mess.

Percival was now part of our shop.  All the vendors knew about him, many of the customers would ask what silliness he had been up to and each night, we would have our little chats.  It was no longer odd to speak about the ghost that lived in our shop and was a bit mischievous and playful. He was part of the Paisley Pig family now. But then one day, not too long ago, on an afternoon in July that was hotter than hell and half of Georgia, two ladies walked into the Paisley Pig for the first time.  

I immediately felt their energy and knew they were going to be fun.  They had that cool kind of silver hair that some ladies get after a certain age, not that dull grey.  It was long and wavy and they both gave off such a fabulous vibe.   They weren't three feet inside the shop when one of them says, rather loudly and with a boisterous laugh and Cheshire cat grin, "oh honey, you've got a ghost in here!"  I joined in her laughter and said, "yes ma'am, we do, his name is Percival."  She stood perfectly still, closed her eyes and began shaking her head side to side.  Then she said, "no, no, that's not gonna do baby girl, your ghost is a she, not a he."   "Wonderful", I shouted, "I gave the ghost an identity crisis."  Her friend laughed and said, "don't worry darlin', doesn't seem like anyone knows their gender anymore!"

The ladies took their time walking around the shop and after their second lap around, one of them told me that the ghost's name began with the letter "M".  She again closed her eyes and started saying... "Marga---", "Mar---", "May---", "Mauri---", and then she shouted, "MAXINE!"  She went on to say that she was dressed in off-white in the style of the 1920s.  She said Maxine was an extremely happy soul but very mischievous and liked to have fun.  I had chills.  She said she has definite likes and dislikes.  "That explains it!"  I shouted.  Anytime I play music from 1980s or later after the shop closes, the song will just randomly stop or it will skip to a song that isn't even on that playlist.  And the next song is almost always one from the 1940s.  Apparently Maxine is not fond of T-Pain or Rick James.

I love knowing a little more about our 2nd Avenue Spirit.  Yes, Maxine is full of mayhem & mischief, but she only adds to the eclectic charm and magic of our shop.  Maxine enjoys setting off the security cameras in the hallway late at night, she also lights the candles immediately after we blow them out, pushes art off the walls, especially if there is a pig on the canvas and most recently, Jamie, our manager, watched a set of mini velvet pumpkins mysteriously scoot off the counter and fall to the floor one night last week. It's like having an invisible toddler floating around. 

Her last known location was sitting in the lounge area at the shop - she was near the burgundy Victorian velvet couch that is probably as old as she is.  Count Basie with the Kansas City Orchestra was playing, and that day she didn't change the song.  The song  that was playing...."The Only Girl I Ever Loved."  

​We certainly love our little Maxine.

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