Story Inn (Page 3)
Curious. As that information sinks in, Angie and Rick point across the room to an old black-and-white portrait of a straight-faced woman, hair pulled tightly into a bun, that hangs behind the check-in counter. No one can figure out who she is. On more than one occasion, when people have casually commented on the woman's lack of physical beauty, strange things have happened. The credit card processing machine quit working. The lights blew out. Once, Rick was standing right there when a friend made a disparaging remark about the woman, and the portrait immediately fell from its secure place on the wall, landing face down. Finally, Rick gives the ghost stories as much credence as he can muster: "There are inexplicable things that happen here," he concedes.
By dinner's end, I'm convinced. So much so that I hold my tongue as I walk past the portrait and up the slanted stairs to the Blue Lady Room. Still, I turn on the blue light, said to summon the ghost, and pluck the latest guest book from the nightstand. I drift asleep amid antiques and lace, reading tales of strange happenings where I now lie.
One-thirty a.m. I jolt awake and quickly scan the room. There are blue shadows just outside my window. Once my eyes fully adjust to being open, I realize the shadows are caused by the bluish tint of the backyard lighting. I close my eyes and fall back asleep.
Two-thirty a.m. Again, I wake suddenly. Panicky thoughts reel in my mind. What if I see her? What would she do? What would I do? With no phone in my room and no cell service, I certainly couldn't call anyone.
I quickly remind myself that all accounts of the Blue Lady have been benign. I haven't felt or seen a thing. The room is intact. Yes, I'm just being paranoid. I shut off the blue light and, eventually, fall back to sleep.
The next time I wake, morning light filters through the lace curtains. I wash, then head down to the dining room for a breakfast of eggs Benedict and strong coffee. When I check out, I eye the portrait and consider insulting it just to see what would happen. Instead, I conclude she's not that bad looking and tell myself that's the reason I still choose not to offer any sort of negative remark.
On the drive out of town, I can't decide whether I'm relieved or disappointed that I didn't have a Blue Lady experience. I did have a great Story Inn experience: a thoroughly enjoyable getaway with its interesting history, pretty setting and top-notch restaurant. So enjoyable that I have a similar waffling between relief and disappointment when I emerge from the valley and my cell phone service returns.
The Story Inn is on State-135, south of Nashville, Indiana. (800) 881-1183