The Whisperer

Goth

He whispered up a storm. He didn't want to but he did, stubborn as he was, the old fart. Shame on him.

Painfully aware of that fact, the grandson locked himself and his grandfather up in the old house, ghost and all. 

The neighbors refused to give up, camping outside, right across the street, behind the police line. Yes, the police was there.

They lacked a few TV vans and some nosy reporters asking uncomfortable questions. But the scandal was not big enough; it was local, so local that not even the local media mentioned it in the news.

In reality, it was a street scandal, and there was no street media, unless you count Mrs. Fitz, the one who broadcast the story his grandfather had whispered in her ear, hoping to gain her confidence and access to her boudoir. However, all Mrs. Fitz gave him was a huge headache and a deep sense of regret.

She loved a juicy gossip. And this was indeed a juicy gossip.

How his grandfather came across the story, he dreaded asking. Apparently, the snobbish, self-convinced, prude Mrs. Townsend had, in a previous life, been a... say... famous and extremely well-paid artist of the industry of nightly delights. 

As Mrs. Fitz heard this dumbfounding but extremely interesting story about her archrival, she didn't hesitate to spread it amongst the neighbors. 

When Mrs. Townsend, happily married to an obscure local banker and a usual presence in the local social events, heard that her past had become public, she forgot all about her local high-society manners and strutted over to Mrs. Fitz's house to smack her right on the nose, causing a bloody commotion. 

The police was called after hair was pulled and ripped, nails broken and the neighbors started to gather, applauding enthusiastically to the great horror of his grandfather. 

"Never again," he mumbled to his grandson.

"Yes, Granddad. Never again. Try a nice bouquet of flowers and an invitation for dinner next time, will you? This trying-to-be-unusual-to-catch-their-attention-quickly doesn't seem to work. And please, don't say again that the ghost told you to do it this way, please." 

The grandfather kept quiet, but the ghost did tell him to do it this way. He should have never trusted a grinning ghost with a twisted sense of humor.