Is a Duppy, Mon!

Mom, her then-boyfriend, and I once rented a small and inexpensive villa named S-, in a little community called M- B- for a Jamaican holiday. It's a lovely little one storey, conical-roofed place with two bedrooms and a large sitting/living/dining room. It's a series of three round sections, each with a pointed, round roof. The living room is a vast, round room, and is the large round bit in the middle as seen from the road. It has shuttered doors all along the back which lead to the wrap-around back veranda. There's a large bedroom and bath to the left and a smaller bed and bath to the right. They are the other two round bits nestled against the larger center one.
It even came with a wonderful Jack Russell Terrier mix goddess-dog named BB, but the ghost wasn't mentioned.

Strange things began happening after the first day.

I found the cold water in the kitchen sink running full blast, and no one was in the house but BB and I. Mom and her BF were out running errands. The maid insisted she'd been busy in the (separate) cottage with the laundry, and seemed well surprised. The gardener was off that day.

I took a shower one morning, and when I opened the door I saw a multitude of shadows on the hallway wall heading both to and from my bedroom and the living room. Most looked human, but there were also dog and cat shadows. The shutters were closed, and any shadows they'd've caused would have been stripey and these were not. The hallway door to the living room was shut. I was standing stock-still, as you can well imagine, and my shadow fell nowhere near the wall anyhow. Again, everyone else - including BB - was outside. I never saw a single cat in M- B- during that holiday.
The shadows were there almost every time I showered, no matter the time of day/night, light source/s, or which door/s were closed.

One evening while playing cards we decided a snack was in order, but couldn't open the kitchen door. We went out onto the veranda and around to the front and entered the kitchen.
The refrigerator (a vast and heavy Yankistani affair, not a miniscule European one) had been pushed six to seven inches (15-17 cm) across the floor so it blocked the door. It was a real job for the three of us to push it back, and it was also very noisy as it scraped across the floor. Then we saw the bolt had been thrown, too. None of us ever bolted that door. The maid and gardener had both been gone for hours, the gate was closed, and there was no evidence of a visitor - including the fact that BB never barked. BB is quite prompt about announcing visitors, even the maid and gardener.
That one really gave us the creeps, and it creeped out the maid and gardener who insisted they'd never thought S- had a duppy.

The pièce de résistance came one evening during a card game, with many witnesses and a scared-witless Xtine.

Our friends S-, her son J-, and our dear old pal J- were all playing cards at the dining room table with the three of us. BB was snoozing cutely somewhere. The maid and gardener had taken off hours before.
We were all having a great time. The game was close, superb tunes were in the air, and we had nice snacks.
The table is at the far left end of the living room. It sits lengthwise near the big bedroom's door, and the chairs on the far side are almost up against the shutters. There was barely enough room to pull the chair back for my little self, so only young J- and I sat on that side. Two empty chairs separated us.

We'd played for quite a while, laughing and talking. Then someone tapped me hard on my shoulder and I stood up, yelling, and shoved my chair back bang into the shutters. That tap felt cold as ice, and I shivered, hair on end as I stood there.
My goosebumps became contagious once I related what had happened.
Young J- insisted he'd had nothing to do with it, and everyone else said they hadn't seen him move. No one had left the table for a long time. There was nothing on the floor which could've bounced off me from above; there were no bats or big moths present.

None of the three of us had experienced poltergeists before, and the house itself never felt creepy to any of us nor any of our friends. The maid and gardener have said such things have never happened at S- before or since our visit, and the late owner's son was mystified and surprised.

I later met a close friend of the late owner who said,
"If I have ever known anyone capable of haunting a house, it was he."