OK, it wasn't a haunted house (I think) but I did have a scary time there once. I was about twelve years old back then and we were living on island off the coast of Honduras called Utila, it is one of the Bay Islands,it is quite small and the people speak English as their mother language. The town was small, at the most 2,000 inhabitants and it was built around a small bay with the main street being maybe 1 mile in length with house on both sides, of course there were other roads that went further into the island but what I am trying to say is everything was within walking distance.
There was a gentleman who lived there who was from the Ukraine, he was over 70 years old back in the 1970's, I have no idea how he ended up in Utila, he must have migrated from Ukraine during or soon after the Russian revolution. I knew him quite well as he was a good friend of my father and whenever we had something special for dinner I would have to take him some.
He was retired and he was apparently well off, his house was a big wooden building on concrete stilts (most houses on the island were like that, his was one of the better ones, even though it was not that well kept). He was a widower and his children, whom I never met, had all moved to the USA, so he lived alone and was attended by a lady who used to cook his food and clean the house or at least part of it.
At this time I was an avid reader and I used to look all over town for paperback novels especially westerns, until I had basically run out of anyone to loan books from. At this point a friend of mine who was the son of the lady who helped the Ukrainian (I will not write his name as I don't think it is appropriate) out told me that in his yard he had a small wooden shack that was full of books, so I told him I was going there to ask if he would lend me some books. Denny, that was my friend, told me sure, but be careful because he has my mom serve him two meals one for him and one for his wife who had died years before, and both plates are empty when she returns the next day.
Of course this made me think things through, it could be a lie and I would miss the books because of this so I figured I would at least give it a shot. So one day I got my act together and went to his house and explained my objective. He was real nice and he told me that in the shack he had paperbacks which were worth nothing to him, in a room in the first floor he had hardcover books, which I could see because the room was mostly glass, and these books were mainly about chess and upstairs inside his house he had very valuable books and he would lend them to me if I showed I could take good care of the paperbacks. Unfortunately we moved some time later so I never did get to see those books.
Anyway he gave me the keys to the shack, which was in his backyard, it was about 12' x 12' and had stairs as it was on stilts about three feet from the ground. So I opened the door went inside, and man that door had a spring on it and it shut as soon as I let it go. That shack was as dark as I have ever seen, and I think I died and came back to life a minute later. Luckily I was able to get my nerves back and opened the door wide open, I saw that at the other end there was a window, so I just figured five steps and I'd be there so I let go the door, closed my eyes walked to the window and opened it.
Man there were literally thousands of books there I read one a day for about a year after that, I would take ten each time and come back for more. I always was a little nervous and I do think I used to hear some strange noises but that was probably fear talking.
But that house was frankly a little frightening and I think being the coward that I was it was an incredible act of courage to go there, so you can be sure I really liked to read.
