We know a story’s good when it generates other stories resonating with the original material. Such is the case with Ellen C.’s message to Who Forted? after reading The Terror That Lingers: The Mysterious Harlequin, by our very own Ritoban Mukherjee
My daughter and I follow in our Irish heritage,all psychic without concern OR fear, both males and females.
I came to see this story, because of our experiences with a hareliquin clown. The first time I saw him,was the night I became pregnant. My boyfriend was scared, and had tried to awaken me during which time he said the clown had given him VERY specific instructions about his duties to the forthcoming child we had both JUST created. (We were BOTH tested and told we would never be able to have children,him bad sperm, me, cancer survivor)
All I saw was a tiny brown man in white robes and white turban,who seemed surprised as I woke and sat up in bed. My boy friend hadn’t described him yet, just pointed, shaking, stuttering. I asked simply “who are you?” He answered,”I will be one of your spirit guides, I’M NEW!” He seemed joyous like a child. I lay back down and a bright pair of head lights shone thru the window over my head. ”What’s THAT?” Phil stammered,”it’s just headlights,go back to sleep!” “How can that be?” His voice was quivering, he began to shake me awake-just then I realized that we were not at his house, where lights in the window were possible, but my,.. house, where there was no road outside from that direction?
My eyes popped open to see a swirling white thick fog over my head, swiftly fly out thru the light. Then we talked! He saw a Harlequin, I did not? 4 years later, I was verbally arguing with roomate I had just told to get out soon as possible. We were sitting on couch, tv in front, to my right side, my daughter was sitting in her tiny rocking chair. First I heard old carousel music, very softly, then I saw from the corner of my eye, she got up, moved to wall and was dancing. Dimwit kept talking as my eyes strained to see what it was she was staring at, at the doorway to kitchen. There I saw a tiny hareliquin clown, dancing in place, just the same moves as her. The clown stopped and stared at me with surprise. This caused my daughter to turn and ask me “Do you see him Mommy, do you see my clown?” She had never spoken about him before, but it made me smile to know she had a special friend, as I said slowly,”Yes, yes I DO SEE your clown!” By then Dimwit had stopped talking, baffled by his inability to drag me into his drama.”What are you LOOKING AT?” he demanded.
As I pointed and started to speak, the clown grabbed his face with both hands, his eyes wide and yelled. ”OH!” This made me turn JUST IN TIME to deflect Dimwit’s fist coming at my face. I do not believe in physical violence, had never before been hit OR threatened by Dimwit, but was well skilled. The fact that he DARED to do so many wrong, disrespectful things in MY HOME, NOW IN front of my PRECIOUS, after… I had taken him in as a favor.. to my sister-in-law, made me lose my temper. I jumped up like time was slow for him, and beat him so unmercifly with three well placed punches, I had to drag him out to the back yard, called his father, and packed his few clothes in the trees.
[I’ve had] Many stories of psychic happenings thru the years. Although I often heard my daughter in her room/afternoons,singing & playing ‘with her clown (the music gave it away) there was no horror.
So there you have it, gang. Not all harlequins are lurking evil demons ready to steal your skeleton out of your mouth when you sneeze. Some of them are good folk. In this case, where Ellen mentions her Irish heritage I’ll gather her protective spirit is one of the Good Folk.
Remember, always refer to the fae as the Good Folk. If you call them fairies, then fairies they’ll be…