Who Ya Gonna Call

So here's a ghost story for you, Reader. 

My paternal Great Grandmother Minerva died some years ago, and she's been known to haunt her house on occasion. That's not made up, but a fact. The woman who lives in her house has seen an apparition of a white-haired old lady watching her as she goes about various activities in the house - it's a watery vision, but apparent. I won't get into all the specifics, but I found out about this from my aunt earlier this year. 

At the time, I wanted to be haunted by Minerva! I felt left out of the hauntings for some reason. Yep, that's right. I wanted. To be haunted. Because I'm a dick with no brains, obviously. 

Anyway. My aunt gave me a framed photo of Minerva, because while I knew her, I was very young and had a hard time remembering her features. I got a little embroidered hanky that came from Minerva's, too. 

I set it on the big expanse of the top of the television and waited for my apparition to appear. 

It didn't. 

Fast forward to a month ago. My Mister and I went to Ikea to so a little home improvement shopping. While there,  I scored some shelves, perfect for an empty expanse of my living room. I'd been wanting shelves for that area for, oh, about 6 years or so. I obviously have to mull home improvements over for some time. 

I specifically wanted the shelves to display photos and knick-knacks we picked up from our travels. 

Shelves hung over the weekend. Items and knick-knacks displayed. Put up the hanky and photo of Minerva, which now sort of overlooks the room, and if you're standing by the stove/sink in the kitchen you can see her. 

I got out of bed the other night and went to get a glass of water. I stood at the fridge drinking it and looked up and saw that picture of Smiling Minerva staring at me. And then my hand bumped the little windchimes I have on the fridge, holding down the picture of my dead mother. The chimes rang - which my psychic says is the spirits making their presence known - but it was from me bumping it, that I know for sure. 

And then? I got the chills up my spine and my head started tingling and I squinted hard into the dark for Minerva. And then I got really scared and ran to the bedroom and woke Kenny up and told him the story of how I rang my own windchimes, got goose bumps and didn't see anything except a photo but I was sure there might be an apparition out there and I was frightened and what had I done calling the spirits??

He told me to shut the fuck up and go to bed. 

Which brings us to tonight. I was tiding up a pile of crap from the table and found a painted tile I picked up on vacation in Cozumel last March. I went to put it on the shelf, next to the photo of Minerva and between some other knick-knacks. 

That's when I noticed the center screw on the shelf was completely hanging out of it's hole. 

The very screw that My Mister screwed in with the held-held Bosch drill. 

I called for him. Inquired if we had indeed screwed that one in, or if we had forgotten, by chance? 

No, nope, he had done all of 'em, that he was certain. Because that one was even a little hard to get it and it really went in tight. 

So the screw that went in tight was now hanging by a thread. 

Minerva??

Even my skeptical Mister doesn't have a good explanation. He chalked it up to being, "odd." He even conceded it was Quite Odd. 

A screw just unscrews itself right from the heavy plaster wall. An outside wall. On a shelf high-up, unbothered by anyone. Yes, that is quite odd. 

Any carpenters out there have a rational explanation?