Hauntings

The layout of my tiny Mexican apartment is such that the bathroom entrance is directly across from the bed. And in another brilliant feat of architecture (along with cabinets that cannot be opened fully because they collide with ceiling fixtures), the light switch is outside the bathroom. One cannot turn on the lights for the bathroom without casting harsh illumination on unsuspecting sleepers.

I thought I would be smart and plug in a nightlight above the toilet, which could be switched on once the bathroom door was safely closed. Then I discovered that the power outlet was not active unless the main switch was on, returning us to the problem of flooding the darkened bedroom with bright light.

I remedied this problem by installing a battery-operated LED nightlight. And to sidestep the issue of searching for a tiny switch in the windowless pitch black, I found a light with a motion detector that turns on when the door is closed. Brilliant. Voila! Problem solved.

I mounted the light on the wall down low so it wouldn't create a glare. A side effect I found amusing is that the cat turns on the light when she goes in to use the litter box. I don't know why, but that cracked me up endlessly when I first discovered it. I wondered if she thought about it at all, if she made the connection. (Like the connection she's made that if she sits in a certain spot at 7 AM, a bowl of food magically appears.) If I was lying in bed and saw the cool glow of the LED kick on, I'd turn toward the bathroom with a giggle and watch her feather duster plume of a tail disappear like a question mark into the shadows.

Then one night, soon after installation, the light went on and I turned to see no litterbox-bound feline. No toilet-bound human. Nothing having fallen off the shelf to trigger the motion sensor. Just - randomly-generated light.

I figured a scrap of tissue or something must have quietly fallen before I could see it to trip the sensor. Obviously.

Until the Page mentioned it the following evening, wide-eyed. "I think we have a ghost." And we went on to speculate the various forms this ghost might have, including a cat-ghost who waited until nighttime to use the litterbox in the bathroom.

I've tried in vain to pinpoint a rational reason for this phenomenon. Others whom I've consulted, in possession of a similiar device, have not experienced these hauntings.

My main confusion is that ghosts traditionally float off the ground. If the motion sensor is nearly flush with the floor, wouldn't a ghost bypass it without triggering the light? Or are cat-ghosts different - perhaps still earthbound on all fours?

The errant night light remains an unsolved mystery. The Page, insatiably curious, has posed the question: "Do all motion sensor lights detect ghosts - or just ours?"