333 Elm Street
Four rockers on the porch have been there for years. They never rock, even in a gust of wind. No movement, remain still. The house appears vacant, as if nothing’s there. But is that so?
It’s quite curious that the four rockers on the porch remain still. Even when the wind blows strongly, they exhibit no motion. One might ponder the reason behind their unmoving state. Perhaps there’s a unique reason for their lack of movement. Their stillness certainly sparks intrigue.
It has been reported by kin and neighbors nearby that, when walking past the house on a late afternoon stroll, you could hear the sound of creaks, as if the rockers were rocking, but the rockers remained still. There’s no proof of these occurrences. The auditory sensation of rocking without any visible movement of the rockers can be quite perplexing. Such occurrences can be unnerving and quite haunting.
Understanding the source of these sounds, even when the rockers are still, adds to the intrigue. It is a curious detail that can spark much thought and interest. But maybe the legend is really about the house itself. The rockers could be only a symptom of what is ailing the house.
An empty house yearns for the life and activity that inhabitants bring. This house was once a home filled with life and purpose. Now it has none. A house with no dwellers goes into disrepair and becomes derelict. The welcome placard on the door is an invitation for anyone to enter, anyone to give it life again. Should anyone dare enter?
Elder neighbors and kin would tell haunting tales about the house. One consistent story was about its former dwellers, Rupert and Emma Whippoorwill. Much has been said about them. They were a sorta odd couple. They were once active and lively. Rupert and Emma were avid birdwatchers, but their fancy was birdcalling. They enjoyed mimicking the sound of birds. Actually, it’s how they conversed.
Rupert “whip-poor-WILL.” Emma “whip-poor-WILL.”
Rupert “Zee Zee Zoo Zoo.” Emma “Zee Zee Zoo Zoo.”
Rupert “hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo.” Emma “hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo.”
Rupert “witchity-witchity-witchity.” Emma “witchity-witchity-witchity.”
Rupert “Caw-Caw, Caw-Caw.” Emma “Caw-Caw, Caw-Caw.”
In the late afternoons, Rupert and Emma would leisurely relax in the rockers on the front porch, and lounging in the other two rockers were their two beloved pets, Twinkles the cat and Truffles the dog. All four rockers were rocking and all was well and good.
Occasionally Rupert and Emma would entertain children in the neighborhood with their bird calls. The youngsters were just fascinated by the authentic sound of each bird. They even tried to mimic the bird calls themselves. Even Twinkles and Truffles would make their own sounds.
Twinkles would sound “Meow, Meow.” Truffles would respond “Ruff, Ruff.”
After a while, the bird sounds became so obnoxious that all decided to call it a night.
Another oddity about the Whippoorwills is that they never invited anyone inside their home. Even though there’s a welcome sign on the front door, no one has ever entered the house. Could it be that the couple just wanted to maintain their private space or could it be for some other reason? Could it be something about the house itself?
Many have felt drawn to the house. It has some sort of magnetism that just pulls you to its door, but no one knows why. It’s been rumored that once you are drawn inside the house, you cannot get out. You are trapped and will never get out and will be tormented by bird calls forever.
One late evening a thunderstorm moved in with howling and forceful winds. Trees were swaying furiously back and forth. Lightning strikes were all over. Wind chimes rang rapidly, but the rockers on the porch remained still and unaffected by the force of the wind.
Suddenly the interior lighting of the house dimmed and finally went out from a strike of lightning. The only movement inside were ghostly figures of a man and a woman and of a cat and a dog. The only sounds heard were faint and frail. Murmurs from within withered whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will.
And yes, the empty rockers will rock only when the house allows them to rock. Remember this house is desperate for life again and will do anything in its power to hold you there.
“whip-poor-WILL,” ” whip-poor-WILL.”
Copyright 2025 Frank Clark