Goodness, the sadness is leaving me as I remember funny tales about Mark.  This one I heard second hand.  Before Shirley and Frank divorced, they lived in Miami.  Their next door neighbor was a world-famous psychic named Arthur Somebody–can’t remember his name for anything, can’t find it on google.  Mark was a teenager, and he backed into Arthur Somebody’s car and damaged.  He immediately knocked on the door, told Arthur what had happened and said he would pay for the damages.  Arthur then told Frank and Shirley that Mark had been a very pleasant and polite young man, and there was no ill will.  Well, not long after, Arthur died.

And not longer after Arthur died, whenever Mark came to a meal at their dining room table, the lights overhead would flicker on and off.  Shirley told him that was Arthur paying him a visit.  Mark always got spooked with the supernatural.  And one night, after they had moved back to New Orleans without Frank, and were living in Metairie, we were having dinner at their house and that’s when Shirley, in the presence of Mark, told us the story.  And I swear, the lights over the table started flickering.  I laughed and Mark just gave me one of his looks.  It seems we always argued with each other when together but we also had so much fun in the process.

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