The Stone Detective: The Case of the Talking Floor
Dr. Frederick M. Hueston, PhD
If only the stone and tile I have inspected over the years could talk. Well, today’s case will prove that, in fact, floors can talk.
It all started when I entered the diner. Flo had this smug look on her face like she could detect a crack in a tile floor quicker than a magnifying glass over a forgery. Rather than confront her, I just smiled and motioned for my usual cup of joe. She poured while keeping that smirk on her face. I was about to ask her what was up when my phone rang. I stepped outside to answer, and the voice on the other end sounded desperate. She had a tremble in her tone that echoed across the receiver like a hollow tile floor under heavy footsteps. Little did I know that I’d be taking on a case that would be one of the more interesting puzzles I’ve handled recently.
The caller described a marble tile floor in an old house that she just moved into. She said that the floor seemed to be making these noises as if it was talking to her. Now, this sparked my interest. Was I about to get involved with a haunted house or perhaps my first haunted floor?
I was about to ask her what the floor was saying when she said I would have to hear it for myself. She asked if I could come out right away and take a look and listen. Like a tile layer with a busted trowel, I muttered that I’d be ready once I shoveled down my breakfast.
I finished my breakfast, tipped my fedora to Flo, who still had that look on her face and headed out the door. As I drove to this dame’s house I couldn’t help but feel a little excited about possibly seeing — or should I say hearing — my first talking floor. Perhaps it was all a hoax and someone was playing a trick on her. But I had to find out for myself.
I pulled up into this long drive. The place reminded me of the house on the hill in that Alfred Hitchcock movie, Psycho. Hopefully I will survive this inspection, I thought. But I’m leaving if she asks me to inspect the shower!
The lady was waiting for me on the old front porch. I kid you not, she looked like Natasha from the Addams family. Now this was getting creepy. I introduced myself and she asked me to follow her in the house.
The main foyer had your typical white and black checkerboard tile pattern. There was a dusty chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The tile was dull as if it hadn’t been polished in years. I started to walk across the floor and discovered that stepping on those tiles was like tap-dancing on a ghost’s xylophone. I have never heard that hollow sound from a floor tile in all my years in this business. I took out my trusty tile detector (golf ball) to do some testing.
I continued to walk across the floor tapping every few feet with my golf ball. The sound was echoing and did sound like it was talking to me. It was clear the floor was hollow and probably not bonded well, but why did it have this weird sound? I had to find out.
I looked up at Natasha and asked if there was a basement. Yes, Indeed, there was, she informed me. I reluctantly asked if I could go into the basement, hoping it didn’t include some kind of a torture chamber.
She led me down a flight of rickety stairs that I was afraid would collapse with each step. We reached the bottom and I looked up and saw what was causing this unusual hollow sound.
The ceiling sported a covering of metal roofing panels, the kind you’d find adorning the rooftop of a rundown garden shed. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where that eerie echo originated.
I leveled my gaze at Natasha and informed her that the sole solution to silence her chatty floor was to strip away those metal panels. Another mystery cracked wide open, teaching me a valuable lesson: in this town, even the floors have a story to tell.
The Stone Detective is a fictional character created by Dr. Frederick M. Hueston, PhD, written to entertain and educate. Dr. Fred has written over 33 books on stone and tile installations, fabrication and restoration and also serves as an expert for many legal cases across the world. Send your comments to fhueston@stoneforensics.com.