Haunted Van

            Years ago, I drove a minivan. Now, this wasn’t just any minivan; it was a special one. It didn’t become special until lightning struck it, and then I think it was haunted.

            After that, the locks on the doors just did their own thing. Literally. Various doors locked and unlocked without rhyme or reason. It didn’t matter if someone was in the van or not, whether it was moving or not. I could be driving along, minding the road and my own business, when the doors would start doing their thing. This was back before remotes were commonplace and someone could play tricks from nearby. This was the van playing tricks all by itself

            I didn’t dare leave anything of value in the van, not that I ever had anything of value inside in the first place. If I locked the doors at night, by the next morning, one or more doors might be unlocked, and they might not.

            One of my children thought it was cool or neat or whatever the “in” word was back then. The kids loved it when I drove carpool. They called it the magic van.

Still, I worried. I mentioned it to my dad, who, I think, didn’t believe me. When I was visiting, he walked outside to the van and before he could get to the door, he heard the door unlocking. Or locking. No way to tell which it was doing from the outside but we both heard the click.

            Dad told me not to worry. He said if someone ever approached the van intending to break in and then heard the doors automatically locking and unlocking, the would-be burglar would turn and run the other way.

            To this day, I don’t know if anyone ever thought about breaking in, but I felt rather secure.

            It’s no telling what happened when I wasn’t looking.