Man, That Civil War Soldier Must Have Been Hungry

My friend Erica has a family heirloom-- a book published sometime around the Civil War-- she believes may be connected to a spirit that has followed her around for years, and has "shown" itself to her and a number of our friends. We didn't know what to call him, so Erica named him Max. We've never actually seen Max, but my friends have felt his presence.

A couple years ago, I don't remember the exact day, I was at Erica's house; her house isn't too big and isn't too small, but if you and a friend were in the family room and the kitchen, respectively, you could hear everything perfectly. The main living areas are in close enough proximity to each other. So Erica and a friend of ours ran out to grab a couple things, which left me and Erica's boyfriend Abe to hold down the fort while they were gone. I'd never officially "met" Max, but had heard so many stories that I longed to have one of my own. Little did I know that this day inparticular was my lucky one.

Abe and I had shut down every single electronic piece of equipment in the house, as well as lights and everything, and were enjoying a nice conversation in the family room when, from the nearby kitchen, we heard a sound and stopped. We listened and heard the sound of someone shuffling thru the kitchen— we could hear their feet moving on the tile floor as they opened and closed cabinets (creeeeak!) and drawers. Abe and I heard the sound of silverware being moved about, as well as cups and plates and things. We were alone!! We listened in fascination for a while. My jaw dropped and I grinned. “Max?” I mouthed silently at Abe and he nodded with a grin on his face. “Max?” Abe called out. SLAM was Max’s response, using one of the drawers, and that is all I’ve heard of him since.