This is, for the moment at least,  going to be rough. Most of the rest 
of the details of Laurel Heights are snippets of the canvas, which 
you really had to be there to understand.

A quick overview of ‘The Heights’ again. It started off life as, or 
shortly thereafter became, a TB hospital where quite a few people 
died and later was used as an asylum. Or so I was told by the 
caretaker of the place while I was a guard there.

(warning, this is not linear, I’m typing them as I remember them)

From the beginning when I started as a guard there on third shift, 
the shift no one wanted,  the place felt ‘weird’ no one was ever 
comfortable there. Even the kids at the Rehab center there 
complained that they never slept well. 

Every forty-five minutes we had to make rounds which meant 
driving around for ten minutes. It took time to notice but after a 
while I realized that in two of the buildings different lights would 
be on at random, sometimes they changed several times a night, 
other times they were the same for days, and still other nights there 
would be no lights on whatsoever. After asking both my supervisor 
and the caretaker about it, I found that there shouldn’t have been 
any lights on, the buildings hadn’t had power for years.

One night I showed up for my shift and found the 2nd shift guard 
cleaning ashes and charred newspapers off the hood of his car, there 
was a gurney with a burned mattress next to it laying in the grass 
nearby. He said he’d either heard a noise or felt strange and looked 
up to see a flaming gurney covered in newspapers roll down the hill 
and smash into the front of his car spilling the newspapers over the 
hood. I’d missed it by five minutes, the smell of smoke was still 
strong in the air. We went and looked but none of the doors of the 
seven story hospital building were opened or showed any signs of 
being jimmied. Now ok, someone COULD have gotten in without 
leaving marks, found a pile of old newspaper and a gurney, set it on 
fire and even rolled it down the hill and gotten away without being 
seen. All that I can accept, what I can’t explain is how the gurney 
on it’s trip down the hill negotiated not one, not two, not three, but 
FOUR turns on it’s way down the hill. Mind you, not little turns, 
two of them were big sweeping S curves, and the whole way was 
lined with four inch curbs.

Later on in our stint as a guard company there, and close to the end 
of our contract, close enough that they’d sold the property and 
started demolition of the buildings. I decided, being the 
mischievous imp that I am that since they were tearing everything 
down that they wouldn’t mind me taking a look inside the buildings 
and houses on the property. ‘Taking a look’ of course really means 
breaking & entering, but since I was a guard there I told myself that 
it was ok. Side note, I tend to tell myself a lot of silly things are ok, 
I’m my own worst enemy. Ok, where was I.. oh yes B&E, I ‘explored’ 
six of the seven houses on the property, and all of the other buildings 
except the newer seven story hospital building, though I did get a tour 
of that. 

It was in one of the houses that while up in the attic going through 
some boxes of things left behind by the previous tenants that I heard 
voices, it sounded like several people had come in on the first floor 
and were having a discussion. I freaked, thinking it was my boss or 
one of the roving supervisors who saw the door open. I was heading for 
the attic hatchway trying to concoct an excuse for why I was in the 
building, when the hatchway slammed shut in my face. I hopped around 
to the other side and tried to kick the hatch down when I realized not 
only had it shut, the lower ladder portion had folded up, and not been 
broken off when it slammed, the lower portion by the way, was not in 
spring loaded. I kicked for a few seconds that seemed like eternity 
but it wouldn’t budge an inch. Finally I crossed the attic in a panic 
to where one of the upstairs rooms was and kicked out the ceiling 
between the joists and dropped down to the room below. I figured I 
was screwed. Whoever it was probably had more reason to be in the 
house than I did. But, there was no one there when I went 
downstairs, no cars outside and the door was still cracked open and 
blocked with the rock I’d put there. I went back upstairs and pulled 
the pull-cord for the attic hatchway and it came down smooth as 
butter.

To Be Continued.