For those just now tuning in to the saga of Duckman, I have been living with my cats in an old hotel on a hill on the edge of Urbana.
The city puts homeless people here to keep us out of the way and so we don’t freeze to death. Yes, I am homeless, but please get over it. My house flooded with sewage. I am on disability. I am paying for my own hotel, so it is hard to afford the deposit for an apartment. I am waiting for a housing voucher from the government.
Let’s move on. We have other things to talk about. There are evil spirits afoot. This hobotel is haunted!
I’ve lost track of the time I have been in this hotel. The rain pours endlessly outside. I tried to keep track of the days by the cats’ feeding schedule, but I throw the empty cans out in the dumpster. I don’t want my room smelling like fish and cat poop. My room doesn’t smell bad at all. It actually smells pretty good because I had to burn some sage. Commonly referred to as sweet-grass by the Native peoples, sage has multiple uses — as an incense, and also to dispel evil spirits.
I am pretty sure this hotel is haunted. I also am pretty sure that there is a vampire lurking somewhere and that the dead walk at night in the cemetery across the way. Get your garlic cloves and your stakes, ladies and gentlemen. The Duckman is going ghost busting!
When I moved into the hotel, I noticed an evil smell down the hallway. At first, I thought some heroin addict was passed out on stained sheets in their bed in their room with toxic wounds leaking — but still alive. It was an evil smell that would creep down the hallway and assail my nostrils. Some rotten scoundrel kept spraying perfume until I threatened to throttle him. I am allergic to perfume. It was stopping my breathing. The perfume also didn’t help with the smell. I couldn’t fire up a delicious cigar to quench the stench, either. I felt like the smell would seep into my room at night and become overwhelming. I would wake up sweating with nightmares of things trying to eat me. The cats didn’t like the smell, either, and would wake me up at its presence.
I have dealt with evil spirits in the past and immediately recognized the presence of ghosts. I also felt something else — something far more evil than ghosts. Ghosts aren’t very smart; nor are they very scary. Whatever was behind that smell was bad news. Too bad I don’t have a hellfire shotgun. I don’t have any firearms. I’m classified as a deadly weapon with my pen, but that won’t help me in this scenario!
Other strange things began happening. When I walk past the graveyard at dusk — there is no way I’m going out there any later — I could feel something watching and following me. I could see figures walking at night in the woods from the window in the hallway of the hotel room. The light from the moon struggles to break through the clouds to shave away the dark that covers the paths around the building. I feel like we are trapped in endless dark mist on the edge of time. It is hard to get the energy to walk into town. The path seems longer on the way out than it is on the way back in. Is the hotel keeping us here and draining our life forces?
Some of the people who stay here seem swift to anger. The police have been called multiple times. I saw naked people fighting in the hallway the other night. Another night a half-naked man was taken out in handcuffs for beating on someone. At every incident, the smell is strong.
The other people who are staying here also have complained of nightmares. No one stays longer than a single night if they don’t have to (besides me). Most of the rooms are empty.
The maintenance man is always in the hallway. He reminds me of Renfield from Dracula. He goes in and out of the mechanical room — even though the heat doesn’t work — and into the pool area (the pool is closed). The evil smell follows him. He isn’t the center of the smell, though. If I knew better, I would think he is a servant of a vampire in the pool area, but vampires aren’t real, right?
One night, I woke up to my door opening and closing. I jumped out of the bed and ran to the hallway and opened the door to reveal there was nothing to be seen — but that funky smell was in the air, but drawn back, outside of my
I knew I had to increase the spiritual protection of the room I was dwelling in. I had to build up the threshold of the room! I couldn’t put a line of salt in front of the door because that would make a mess. I also couldn’t carve words into the walls. I would lose my damage deposit. I made sure to leave a window open to have the flow of fresh air. Nature dispels evil spirits. I needed to get some sweetgrass!
I make sure to never buy my sage from Wally World, as they don’t use sustainable harvesting techniques. I went to my local witch shop — the kind of place where they sell tarot cards and incense — and purchased a stick of white sage. It is a green plant that is dried out. Often it is twisted up into a smudge stick and wrapped in string so that one end can be lit and it will burn slowly.
The purpose of smudging is a ritual purification of the spiritual elements. You have to get your mind right for this process, and I did so. I meditate often to clear out the cobwebs. I had to prepare to chase off the ghouls of this place. I have to protect my gatos from the armies of darkness! I struck a match and lit the stick up. I bet you think I practice voodoo!
After I properly doused the room in smokey clouds, I put the stick out. I couldn’t smell that dirty stink. It wasn’t outside of my door anymore. When the maintenance man walks by, I can smell it. The other hallway still has the corruption, but mine is clean, for now. I haven’t seen anything weird. The cats are much calmer. My orange juice hasn’t spoiled mysteriously. No naked people have tried to come into my room.
I will try to lure a ghost out for a picture. Another snow storm has started. I might be trapped here with an alien.
Until next time, be safe, my people!
Brian Beshears is an Urbana resident and was a onetime Urbana High School classmate of Ford
County Chronicle Publisher Will
Brumleve. And, yes, he will rap for cat food! He can be reached at quackatron@gmail.com.