Open House: Sales Xtravaganza

By Susan Csoke

The struggle of a single parent trying to raise her children the best I knew how. Believing and buying my own home was a dream come true but proved to be my family’s worst nightmare ever. Buyer beware! Because of the strange and sinister presence in my house, everything is lost. The rest had to be sold at my open house.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781683485223

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Open House

Susan Csoke

Copyright © 2017 Susan Csoke

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-68348-521-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68348-522-3 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my children Lilac, Carlos, and Steve; my grandchildren from Lilac, Junior, Monique, Anthony, and Jason; from Carlos, Mariah, Cyrena, Cyara, Amora, and Tiffany; and from Stevie, Jeremy, Matthew, Nathan, Carlos, and Steven. To my stepsons, June and Brian, and my stepgrandchildren, Elise and Jarreyn. Without them, I would not be here today. Their unconditional love keeps me alive and grateful for each new day.

I poured my heart out

unto these pages

you now hold

it in your hands

If you’re absent during my struggle.

Don’t expect to be present in

my success.

Learn to appreciate what you HAVE,

before time makes you appreciate

what you HAD.

It doesn’t cost a dime to be kind.

Time

Time is too slow for those who wait,

Too swift for those who fear,

Too long for those who grieve,

Too short for those who rejoice,

But for those who love,

Time is not.

Henry van Dyke

Hurt people hurt people. That’s how pain patterns get passed on, generation after generation after generation.

Break the chain today. Meet anger with sympathy, contempt with compassion, cruelty with kindness. Greet grimaces with smiles. Forgive and forget about finding fault.

Love is the weapon of the future.

Yehuda Berg

Preface

As I sit here in this beautiful big backyard, looking at the acreage of land and trees behind 267 Frozen Ridge Road and contemplating my past, I realize I have to go back, back to 281 Wheeler Street Hancock, New York. I am very lucky to be here in the home of my younger son, Steve. I am lucky that I got out of my old home alive even though I lost my on-and-off-again job of seventeen years. I lost my health to a stroke, previous heart attacks, and black mold poisoning. Subsequently, I lost 98 percent of my belongings, personal stuff, heirlooms, etc., and my home. What I still do have is the most precious gift of all, my three children, Stevie, Carlos, and Lilac and my fourteen grandchildren. Stevie blessed me with five grandsons, Jeremy Matthew, Nathan, Carlito, and Steven. Carlos blessed me with five granddaughters, Cynthia Mariah, Cyrena Mya, Cyara Madison, Amora, and Tiffany. Lilac blessed me with Junior, Monique, Anthony, and Jason.

I fear going back, whether it’s mentally or physically. But I need to, at least, mentally for now. This story needs to be told as a warning to those buying a house. So buyer’s, beware. I will not embellish the truth. I will be honest and factual to the best of my knowledge.

I have lived with spirits dead and alive for seventeen years. They are there, and they are real. Due to my loss and depression, I’ve been stagnant for almost three years now. My home nearly completely destroyed me. Hopefully, I can turn it around by writing this book. Just the thought of getting my story published and perused would be a dream come true. I am anxious as I pursue this course of action.

Acknowledgments

Finally, I’ve got the funds to begin publishing. Thank you so much to my son, Steve; my daughter-in-law, Anna; my son, Carlos’ my grandson, Junior, my daughter, Lilac; my granddaughter, Monique; Monique’s boyfriend, JT; my stepson, June; my nephew, Rob; my good friend, Vinny; my good friend from Yonkers, Nicky B; Joe D. a cool dude from Newburgh and Ronald C.; my niece, Diana; and Mark Sussman for standing by me and donating to make my dream (this book) a reality. (In order)

From Page Publishing, along with Travis Palmer, Lyndie Smith, Dustin Roberts (whoever is correcting and revising my book, thank you), thank you all for guiding me through this process and helping me to reach my goal.

Prelude

Sunday, July 27, 2014

As I do laundry, I come out the basement door, which opens to our backyard. We have a table and chairs nearby. We also have a nice-size swimming pool for the kids. Further ahead is a large fire pit. Off to the side of that is a large tree holding a tire swing.

Many times, I just sit out here, thinking back how I made so many mistakes. And my biggest mistake ever was buying what I thought would be our dream home.

I’ve written a letter to a publishing company, praying they are interested in my book. I found their address on a bookmark, which had been in one of the books I borrowed from the library. I was hoping the bookmark was a good omen. A book, especially after the stories my father told me about his life as he was caught up in the Holocaust in Hungary. He was a writer. Hopefully my writing is as good as his was. And as I mentioned previously, my writings are­ nonfiction.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

My older son Carlos dropped off his two youngest daughters this morning, Cyara and Amora to enjoy the day with Carlito, Steven, and me. I drove the four of them to Mickey D’s for lunch. When we got back, they played in the yard and most of the day. Cyara, Carlito, and Amora played tag and rode bikes.

I had Steven on the swing for a while. Then the four of them took turns pushing each other on the kiddy monster truck. The battery had died. They tired out soon enough and decided to play in the pool, which I preferred. The pool is like a giant playpen filled with water. I could sit and watch them have fun.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

I got bad news from the publishing company; they turned me down. At least, they responded. It’s a beautiful day anyhow. I love to sit outside in the fresh air. I read a lot and watch the animals.

We have so many deer in our yard. The kids and I always put apples and corn out for them to eat. Cyara one day helped me fill a big container of water for them as well. It’s truly amazing. Often, I see two baby deer. They play in our yard close to where I sit. The mother deer is nearby, watching.

I have seen wild turkeys. The first time I saw one jump out of the bushes, it scared the shit out of me. And they do attack. I’ve seen a family of rabbits, frogs, and even a small tan fox! The fox I saw while I was in my bedroom. I watched as it came close to my window. When I moved, it turned and ran away. Then we have a badger living under the ground behind the garage. These are in additions to all the birds, squirrels, and snakes.

Since I began writing this book, things have begun to disappear and reappear later on near me. Brand new pens constantly skip and run out of ink, yet work fine another time or for another reason. These things happened a lot when I lived at home in Hancock. I’m a little spooked as I continue to write. I cannot let that deter me now. I used to think I was going insane. Now I know it was my house.

Part I

Toward the End

The storeroom. Porch door to the left and my survival room to the right.

My infamous upstairs landing between apartments.

The bathroom window Jacob stepped out of.

Chapter 1

On the Road Again

On the road again. The last trip Jacob took with me to Hancock was on April 10, 2012. Jacob is a good friend whom I’ve known for many years. He came upstate a lot with me, so I wouldn’t be alone. The two-and-a-half-hour drive didn’t bother me. It was being alone in my home that really was a challenge since my beloved companion Stichez was inhumanely taken from me. I no longer wanted to go home.

The spirits in the house were afraid of Stichez. She always knew when they were too close. She would growl and bark at what looked like nothing until it backed away. Then she would relax. Those incidents occurred many, many times over the years that I had Stichez.

We had part of the yard fenced in just outside my lavatory/bathroom. That bathroom had a door, which opened outside. It was Stichez’s play area where she would run free. I usually left that door unlocked, so she could go in and out of the house. She would push it open with her nose. From the inside, she would pull it with her paws. Stichez was my baby as well as my companion. But the law in Hancock despised her because she was a pit bull. One week while I was stranded in Yonkers, and even though I had people staying in my house to dog sit, the law broke my door down and took her away.

I got to Yonkers the day before. I would stay the night at