Kara scanned the trees, her eyes wildly searching. But all she saw were trees.
Had she imagined it? Had it been a tree?
She stepped out of the tub and wiped up the water she had dripped onto the floor with her bath towel. She folded the damp towel and draped it over the tub’s edge, then climbed back in the basin. She drew in a breath and held it. Slouched, she peered through the curtains again.
The figure had returned.
She cried out in surprise. It was in the same spot as before. Did he want her to know he was there? Could he see her staring back?
“Mommy!” The bathroom light snapped on.
Kara’s knees gave, bringing her down to a squat below the window sill.
Lilah didn’t notice how the color had drained from Kara’s face. “Jack ate all the popcorn!”
Kara slipped awkwardly out of the tub, hunched out of sight of the window, and flipped the light off.
“Mommy?”
“Just a second.” Kara stepped gingerly into the tub and peered outside again. The figure was gone or had moved out of view. Her eyes searched the darkness, willing it not to show up again. She saw no one in the yard nor driveway. Was he hiding in the woods?
“Mommy?”
Kara left the bathroom and Lilah snatched her statue from the end of the bed. She followed her mother into the foyer. Kara listened for odd noises, ignoring the steady drone of the refrigerator and the chattering TV. She didn’t hear a maniac trying to gain entry into their house; she didn’t hear the rattling of the doorknob twisting. She crept into the office as Lilah stood at the foot of the stairs, watching questioningly. Kara peered out the curtained window. She couldn’t see the side of the house, but she could see the wide expanse of the front lawn and the entire length of the porch. The porch light revealed no movement outside, except for a litter of fluttering moths. Darkness covered the front lawn and Seter Road.
He could be behind the oak, she thought, her eyes analyzing the sides of the tree that stood dead-center with the front door. The light fell short of its trunk.
Her eyes moved over the porch again, the swing, and then back to the oak.
She saw nobody.
Was it another prank?
She closed the curtain, thinking about calling John. But what could he do? She could make a plea for him to come home; but if she did, it would take him at least an hour to get there.
Should she call the police? Would she be able to describe what she saw…or thought she saw? Maybe it really had just a tree.
Or what if it was David?
But why was she thinking of David as the Boogeyman? He had never threatened her….that she knew of anyway.
Kara confirmed the front door was secured by twisting the knob and eyeing the locks before ushering Lilah into the master bedroom. She sat with her on the bed, trying to steady her breathing.
You saw trees, only trees.
“Jack ate all the popcorn?” Kara asked, striving to return to the mundane brightly-lit bedroom.
Lilah held the statue by the girl’s head with both hands, rocking it back and forth. “Yeah.”
“Aww. I’d make you more, but I think you’re tired. Are you sleepy?”
“Yeah,” Lilah admitted, then whined, “When’s Daddy coming home?”
“He’s working late.” Not coming home tonight at all, she left unspoken. “You can sleep here tonight.”
“Okay.” Lilah crawled under the covers, tucking the statue completely underneath.
“I’ll be right back. Let me see if Jack’s ready for bed too.” Tell me if you hear anything, Kara wanted to say.
Grasping her cellphone, Kara went into the great room. Jack was on the couch sleeping, covered by a throw blanket. Her eyes darted to the playroom door. She was grateful it was closed. She flipped off the TV and decided against waking Jack. This time she looked out the backdoor window, checking for her Boogeyman, if he existed. To her relief, she saw no one passing through the yard nor stationed near what she could see of the woods. She returned to her bedroom, flipped off the light, and hesitated at the foot of the bed. The goosebumps had faded from her arms. Her body was starting to calm down, she was beginning to believe she had imagined it. But still, she went into the bathroom and, leaving the light off, opened the door to the walk-in closet. She flipped on the light and scanned the hanging clothes before looking at the floor beneath them. No one was hiding there.
She turned and started to exit, her hand poised on the light switch, when her eyes went to the mirror on the other side of the bathroom. It wasn’t her face she saw.
She inhaled sharply. She saw, for a split-second, another image, the flash of another face, and then it was gone. In its place was her stunned expression. Her heart had struck up its beat again and she stood there, dumbfounded, staring at herself in the mirror.
You’re tired, she finally reasoned with herself after she had stood there motionless for several minutes. You haven’t slept well in so long. You’re functioning on fumes.
She accepted that, because what else could she think, and flipped off the light and closed the closet door. She mustered what courage she had left and peeped out the bathroom window. The figure had not returned. The lamppost stood guard over the yard, a beacon of steadfast protection. She stared outside for a long while, trying to hear beyond the crickets who were now chirping.
She went around the house once more, checking locks, and then turned off the great room light for Jack’s sake. She kept all the other first floor lights on. The broken window in the bonus room challenged her nerves, but she checked the three layers of plastic Tom had taped over the hole. It would be crazy for someone to climb up to the second floor, wouldn’t it? There were no trees that close to the house, so the intruder would have to bring their own ladder to get in. That wouldn’t happen, right?
She forced herself to go to bed and not worry about it. Glancing at her cellphone, she was dismayed the “No service” message flashed, but she still kept it by her side. She pulled the blanket up and closed her eyes, waiting for morning.
John came home after 10 a.m. He had also had a sleepless night for much different reasons, and went straight to bed. Three cups of coffee revived Kara enough to visit the lamppost. She didn’t know what she was looking for (footprints, binoculars, a cigarette?), but there was nothing out of the ordinary. She changed direction from the driveway and walked to the location of where she had seen him (her?…it?) standing. She eyed the ground where the grass met the gravel and then looked back at the house, using the figure’s supposed vantage point. The bathroom curtains were still closed as she had left them the night before.
The house sat at a higher elevation from where she stood, so it was a relief to realize no one could stand at the window and peer in. She paced some more, went to the edge of the woods, looking through the trees and at the ground. Returning to the driveway, she surveyed the gravel, but her untrained eye saw no evidence of a prowler. Eventually, she gave up her search and headed toward the porch. She glanced at the house next door and, glimpsing Diane in an orange top, she changed course and crossed the yard. On hands and knees, the older woman pulled weeds from a flowerbed that bordered her screened porch.
“Good morning!” Kara called as she approached.
Diane looked up and sat back on her heels, wiping her forearm across her nose. “Good morning.” Her husky voice was loud and carried well beyond Kara’s nearness.
“Those are beautiful.”
“Begonias,” Diane said, allowing a prideful smile at the delicate blooming pastels.
“I need to get around to planting some flowers myself.”
Diane didn’t reply, looking expectantly at Kara.
Awkwardly, Kara cleared her throat. “So, the weirdest thing happened last night. I was taking a bath…Well, right after my bath, I looked out the window and I-I think I saw somebody. Someone was in my yard last night.”
Diane’s eyes narrowed. “How do you mean? Someone was walking throug
h your yard?”
“No, someone was watching me. Well,” Kara, blushing, amended, “someone was standing in my yard. I think I was being watched. It was dark, but…”
“Are you sure you saw someone? You don’t know who it was?” Diane looked at her critically.
Is this woman doubting me? Kara asked herself. Am I doubting me?
Kara stumbled over her words, “Well, I-I saw someone. It was dark. I was just wondering if you saw anything.”
“Have I seen any peeping Toms?” Diane tilted her head to peer around Kara, looking out at the Tamesons’ yard.
“Yeah. Or have there been any break-ins around here that you’ve heard of?”
Diane shook her head, frowning. “Seter Lane’s always been quiet. Nothing I’ve noticed as being out of the ordinary. Must’ve been your imagination. Was it late?”
Kara looked down the road, her eyes moving over houses she could see from there, dotting the neighborhood, as if she’d find some sign of distress. But they were quiet; the hilly countryside was peaceful as a whole, looking as if nothing untoward could happen there. She returned her gaze to Diane’s property, her eyes resting on a pair of dirty men’s sneakers sitting on the bottom porch step.
Diane followed the gaze. “Those are my Matthew’s. He’s staying with us for a couple days. Matthew’s a little troubled, but I think we’ve already discussed that.” Diane’s expression turned serious. “He’s harmless. He knows not to bother folks. I’m sure of that.” She turned away and resumed work in the flowerbed.
Kara didn’t want to sound accusatory, but she also didn’t want to be regarded as a pushover that would allow a stranger hanging around her home at night. Delicately, she asked, “Do you think he may have been the one I saw last night?”
Diane, bent over the flowers, twisted her head. Her eyes narrowed. “He was with Marvin and me last night watching television. Matthew doesn’t bother anyone.”
Kara waited a beat before pressing on, laughing superficially, “Oh, alright. Actually, if it were him last night, I’d feel a lot better. I’d at least know I didn’t have some creeper watching me.” She knew it sounded bad. Diane turned away and busily patted the soil around her flowers. She was dismissing her.
Kara hadn’t meant to offend her, which somehow she had. When she had walked to the edge of the property line, Diane called, not looking over, “Kara?”
Kara turned around.
“Leave my son alone.”
Kara watched Diane for a moment before crossing into her yard.
Chapter Seventeen
“Ooh, how cute!” Tracy crooned.
She and Kara took in the wide, first-floor storefront window of Buried Treasures. An aged secretary desk was showcased with worn paperbacks and writing implements on its tabletop, set in front of a faux schoolhouse backdrop. Tracy went to the door as Kara stood back on the sidewalk, gazing up at long, narrow windows set into the second and third floors of the lavender building. She froze when she saw the flag suspended from the second floor. Underneath the store’s moniker on it was a whimsical caricature of a frog, squatting with one leg extended to the side and a girl beside it, carrying a parasol.
Tracy pointed at the rusted, brass doorknob that was chest-high. “This is so cute.” She pulled the door open. “How could a kid reach this?”
Kara didn’t comment, but followed her indoors, pretending the flag wasn’t similar to the statue Lilah carried around with her.
Wind chimes over the door tinkled as they entered the store, an open room filled with shelves of miscellanea. Kara looked around, surprised there were no other customers that Saturday afternoon.
“Hi!” They heard the woman before they saw her. Bespectacled, she came out from behind a counter tucked near the back. “Welcome to Buried Treasures. Is there anything I can help you with? I’m running a sale on arrowheads.” She smiled pleasantly, clasping her hands together.
“Hi,” Kara and Tracy replied.
Kara glanced briefly beyond the clerk, taking in the shelves stacked with pails and oil canvases depicting colonials and Redcoats. Tracy didn’t stray far from the entrance, finding interest in a floor-to-ceiling bookcase displaying dolls, dollhouses, and wind-up toy cars.
“We’re just looking,” Kara replied. Browsing through the front of the store, she stopped short, noticing a tin sign on the wall. It depicted a partially-clothed blonde leaning, grinningly, against the hood of a cherry red 1957 Chevy Bel Air.
“Not everything is to everyone’s taste,” the clerk chuckled. “But, I assure you, there’s something you’ll like here.”
“This place is so cute.” Kara moved on, glancing over a glass case carrying an assortment of thimbles made of brass, porcelain, and what looked to be paper. Her eyes drifted upward toward the ceiling, spotting a chandelier with beige-colored lampshades covering eight sconces. It was understated, but elegant. She knew it’d be perfect in her foyer. “Is that for sale?”
The clerk nodded enthusiastically. “My dear, everything’s for sale.” She came over and looked for a price tag, but when she saw there wasn’t one, she bobbed her head. “I’ve got everything catalogued in back. If you give me a moment, I’ll let you know just how much it is.” She went toward the back of the shop and pointed at Tracy on her way. “Your friend also seems to have found something of interest.”
Kara looked over, seeing Tracy had moved further into the store, squatting now, moving toy animals around a gray four-foot plastic barn. “Funny how it’s gray and not red.”
“Hmm?” Kara raised her eyebrows, walking toward her.
Tracy carefully opened and closed a hinged barn window. “When you think of barns don’t you always picture them as red?”
Kara shrugged. “I guess.” The sagging gray barn on Seter Lane flashed in her mind, but the image was gone as she neared the rear counter. The clerk was moving a thumb down a hardbound, handwritten ledger that took up a quarter of the countertop.
Kara looked about her and noticed a metal shelving unit filled with statues. She glanced over them, wondering if there were any similar to Lilah’s. The ones displayed, however, were mostly gnomes. She took a stab, asking the clerk, “I noticed your shop sign outside with the frog and girl on it. Did you, by any chance, sell a statue resembling it?”
The clerk settled her thumb on a line of text and looked up at her. “Like the sign?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Our merchandise is largely one-offs due to the subject matter of the shop. It is a charming sign, isn’t it? It was here when I bought the business about five years ago. Are you interested in dolls or frogs in particular? We have dolls, but I don’t think I have any frogs right now.”
She started to move toward a space behind Tracy, but Kara halted her. “Oh, no. I’m interested in a specific statue that reminds me of the sign, that’s all.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. I recently moved to the area and my husband dug up a statue that looks similar to your shop sign.”
Her interest in antique toys spent, Tracy joined the ladies.
The clerk fixed her gaze on Kara. “You say you dug up a statue?”
“My husband and son were doing yard work when they came across a statue of a girl with an umbrella and a frog sitting at her feet. It’s just like the flag outside.”
“Interesting.”
“I think it is.” Strange really, Kara thought.
“I don’t know of a statue being modeled off of that image.” The clerk raised her eyebrows and admitted, “Or of the sign being modeled off of a statue. But that is something, isn’t it?”
“My daughter’s been playing with it as a doll, so I haven’t analyzed it too closely, but it looks just like it.”
Tracy piped up, “I wonder if it’s an antique then, the statue Lilah has.”
“It could be,” the clerk said, glancing at her. “Especially if it was in the ground. How odd. Was it buried deep?”
Kara shook her head. “I don’t think so. It couldn’t have
been if my husband was just weeding around the house when he found it.”
“Where’s your house? Here in town? I often visit neighbors who have the most interesting antiques they discovered in their attics or cellars. There is a lot of history in Gracie Town.”
“I live on Seter Lane, just outside of town.”
The clerk smiled. “Oh, that’s a lovely road. You’re a mile from the bustle, but it feels totally different. Very quiet.”
Kara smiled to herself, finding it funny people could refer to Grace Township as bustling. She supposed the clerk’s head would spin if she ever visited the Cosgrove Center of Science or tried to find an available parking meter in the city.
“There are some older houses on that street too,” the clerk continued. “It wouldn’t surprise me if an antique statue decided to unearth itself.”
“Actually, Kara lives in a new-build,” Tracy disclosed.
“Oh, so you’re the new owner of that French country two-story.”
“Yes, that’s me.” Kara’s face grew warm at the mention. She hoped the town wasn’t gossiping about her family.
“Your house is beautiful.”
“Thanks. We haven’t been there for long, but we like it.”
“So, it doesn’t make sense then that your statue would’ve been buried in the ground,” Tracy said.
The clerk moved to the front of the store and opened the door. Kara and Tracy followed her outside where they all looked up at the flag.
“There wasn’t anything on your property before they built the house, was there?” the clerk asked.
Kara shook her head. “No, I believe this was the first house built there. If I remember correctly, the deed didn’t show anything was there before our house.”
“There’s a barn not far from you. I haven’t been down that road for a while, but I think there’s an old gray barn on Seter. Is that right?”
Kara nodded, picturing the barn that haunted her.
“Is the barn yours?”
Housewarming Page 17