Who Is Ratty?

I have a ghost story for you this time that happens to be true. I've snuck in other true stories on this site before. You'll have to guess which ones they are. 

Who is Ratty? That is a short but very complex question. Some of you have wondered about it, and some haven't thought about it at all. Most of us use pseudonyms here on the internet. This one is different though. Ratty is a legend. Ratty was a hero. Today I am Ratty, but I'm not the original. Ratty was my uncle, and Ratty was my best friend.

I said this was a pseudonym for me, and obviously it wasn't his real name either. I use it here on the internet, the same as any of you use yours. It was his for a much more interesting reason. I didn't just take his name for just any old reason. I did it because I guess I'm also the one who gave it to him. This is going to take some explaining because it's a very different kind of story.

This story starts when I was only a baby. And yes, although it may sound unusual, I do remember back that far. One of my few remaining memories of my favorite uncle was when he used to bring me piles of change. I used to drop the coins down into the cracks of my grandparents' front steps. It was a fun thing for a little kid to do, and he didn't mind at all.

It was around this time that my uncle was drafted into the army, and into one of the worst wars in our country's history. He became a tank driver, which sounds like it would be a pretty safe job in a war, and it was. He used to send me pictures of him standing beside the tank. One of them showed where they had run over a land mine. The explosion created a huge hole in the ground. The tank was mostly undamaged.

One time, when his tank was in for repairs, he volunteered to go on a rescue mission. My grandpa told him never to volunteer for things like that. He did anyway. They went to rescue some wounded soldiers. They were given a kind of truck that was known for not having any protection at all. This time it was the truck that ran over a land mine. My uncle didn't come back alive.

I was only a little older than two years old at this time. I didn't understand the concept of death yet, so my mom decided not to take me to the funeral. There also wasn't any real way to tell me about him yet. It was about this time that I received a visit from somebody. It might sound strange, but the visitor was my uncle.

I still remember that day. My mom and I were in the kitchen, and my mom had to go down to the basement for something. The back door was open, but the outside screen door was locked. I watched as my uncle came up the stairs of the back porch to the door. I told him that I would go get my mom for him, but he said not to do it because he was in a hurry, and the one he came to talk to was me.

I don't remember much of the conversation anymore, I was only a few years old after all. I do remember that he told me he would be back. My mom came up the stairs soon after he left. After she asked me who I was talking to, I told her it was my uncle. He was her younger brother.

To this day, my mom tells me she heard me talking to somebody up there. She had her hands full, and was frantically trying to get upstairs. Even back then, kids shouldn't talk to strangers. I knew that very well, but he was not a stranger. My mom knew I was telling the truth as I saw it, and that I must have known who I was talking to. Besides, there was nobody there anymore, not even outside.

Shortly after this happened I made a new friend. He was a kid that was a little older than me. He told me his name was Ratty. I knew him for a long time, and we played together the way little kids do. There was one time where I was teasing my new little brother with a worm, and Ratty took it from me and covered it up so my brother wouldn't be afraid anymore. I learned a new lesson.

This whole time, my parents just assumed that I had an imaginary friend. Lots of little kids have them at some point. At the same time all of this was happening, my grandma had the idea to put pictures of each family member on one of her living room walls. For my uncle, she used an old picture from when he was a little kid. It had been packed away for several years, and nobody had seen it in all that time.

When we went to visit my grandparents, I immediately noticed that picture. I identified it as my best friend Ratty. I was much too young to have ever seen this picture before. Nobody else knew what to think of this, but they most likely dismissed it as the imagination of a small child. Wouldn't you?

I continued to play with my friend, but through the years his visits became less and less frequent. They finally stopped shortly before I started school. He still occasionally visited me in my dreams, but it just wasn't the same.

Was this all only the imagination of a child? Or was it something much more special? I don't have that answer for you because I simply don't know. I do know that it was all real to me, and I still remember everything, including his face.

So, who is Ratty? That was Ratty. I use this name to honor my uncle, and my best friend. Thanks Ratty. I'll never forget.

The Maggot Man

The little boy woke in the middle of the night to a strange sound in the room. His family was staying in this small house in the woods for their vacation. There was only one bedroom, but the living room was very big. The boy was sleeping on one couch and his older sister was sleeping on the other across the room. It wasn't too bad; the couches were actually almost as comfortable as their beds, and sleeping on them made it seem like they were on a little adventure.

Even so, this was still a strange place for the little boy, and this quiet house out in the woods was far away from the comfort of his own familiar bedroom. He wasn't really very afraid. And as his parents had explained, this house was far out in the woods, so the only thing they'd come across around here would be deer or squirrels. But it didn't hurt to take precautions, so he kept his eyes shut for a few seconds and waited to hear the strange sound again.

Then after a few seconds he heard it again! It was the quiet creak of the floorboards. A third person must be in the room with the boy and his sister. All sorts of strange ideas ran through the boy's mind until he came to the logical conclusion that it was probably just one of his parents. That's when the boy decided to finally open his eyes and end the suspense.

What the little boy saw in the dark room didn't look at all like one of his parents. It was the figure of a man in a dark trench coat leaning over his sister who was sound asleep on the other couch! The man wasn't wearing a hat and his head was completely bald. His skin was so white that it seemed to glisten in the dark. It wasn't a good color though. That pale skin made the boy think of the color of maggots.

Startled by the sickening thought of the man's odd appearance, the boy gave an involuntary shudder that made the couch springs creak ever so slightly. Reacting to the sound, the man slowly turned his head around towards the direction of the frightened boy. As his face slowly came into view, the boy saw that the man's ears looked as if they were smoothly pressed right up against the sides of his head. All the boy could see of the man's very flat nose were the two nostril holes. Strangely, the man had a wide grin on his face. The grin didn't necessarily seem cruel, but it also didn't seem kind either. It was just fixed on the man's face as if it was the permanent shape of his mouth.

The terrified little boy was now hoping with all his heart that this was only a dream! Without any further delay, the boy quickly pulled the covers over his head, hoping the strange maggot man would go away. As the boy lie there cowering in terror under his blanket, he heard footsteps coming across the room towards him. But then for some odd reason they suddenly stopped about halfway, and there was only silence.

After what seemed like an eternity, the boy decided that the man must be gone, so he slowly pulled back the blanket to see that there was now daylight filtering in through the windows. He slowly looked around the room and saw that it was now empty except for him and his sister. The boy quickly jumped up off the couch and ran to his parents' room to tell them what happened. After talking to him for awhile and assuring him that they would investigate this event, the boy's mom and dad tried to convince him that it was almost certainly just a dream. The boy finally agreed to consider that conclusion.

The boy never saw the strange maggot man again, but he always felt that it all seemed too real to have been only a dream. But if it was real, then who was that strange man? More importantly, what was he? Was he trying to harm the boy's sister in some way? His sister claimed to have never seen him. Did the strange man leave because the boy had seen him? The boy wondered what might have happened if he hadn't woken up and seen the maggot man.

And so for many years the boy couldn't help but wonder why they were visited by the strange maggot man.