Revolver

So, as promised, here is a strange tale that happened to me recently and it involves The Beatles, one of my all time favorite bands.

The house we live in is old, and like every aging domicile, it has a history. It turns out that the family of my wife’s first husband owned it previously, and one of them committed a murder. This was in the early 1900s, and though he was found guilty and served jail time, the gun was never found.

Fast forward to Memorial Day a few years ago, my wife says, “C'mon, we're going to the cemetery to put flowers on my mother’s grave. “ I was sitting on the bed practicing a new song that I was obsessed with learning, the song was Happiness is a Warm Gun. I still to this day don’t know why I felt I had to learn it, but I grew almost feverish with desire to do so. My ears were burning and ringing, it was very strange.

At the cemetery, after we put flowers out, I was walking over some markers that were flat on the ground, not the kind that stand up. Suddenly I saw a familiar name and said, “Hey, here’s some guy with the same name as your first husband.” Well this was when my wife told me the sordid details of his grisly crime.

A few days later, I had finished learning the song and was practicing it when it was time to walk the dog. I take him in the back yard every day and look around while he does his business, it’s always the same. On this day though my dog kept scratching the ground, so I looked and there, half buried, was what looked like a toy gun.

As soon as I picked it up I could tell by the heft, it was a real gun. After showing my wife she called a friend of ours that’s a cop. He checked it and said it was indeed a real gun, from the time frame of the murder, but that was a hundred years ago so there’s nothing they needed it for at this point.

My wife is very superstitious and insisted the gun be thrown out immediately. We went back to the cemetery and I walked around for over an hour trying to find that marker again. My ears had stopped burning and ringing, so I must have succeeded in helping him. Now I even question if I saw it in the first place.

Was I the mortal tool this spirit manipulated to expose the weapon used in his foul deed a hundred years ago? That’s up to you, the reader, to decide.