Housewarming

by Jennifer Bowen

  There was no escaping the neon colors that slashed by, then spiraled to the right before crossing to the left. They were wild, becoming circles and Xs and blobs until they meshed again, finally bursting with a flash of white and then becoming black again. Before she could get a grip on what was happening, the blackness subsided, turning lighter and then orange.

  She blinked her eyes open, finding herself swathed in light. Squinting, she made to shield her eyes with her hand, but she couldn’t move. Her arms, legs, hands, and toes betrayed her, refusing to budge; they were comatose. She felt no sense of panic, however; she felt nothing.

  She looked up at the ivory, fabric ceiling above. Sunlight filtered in through seams where the material had been threaded together. Sliding her eyes down the plain canvas walls, she realized she was no longer in her bedroom. She was lying down, but her bed was a bleached, linen sack filled with what appeared to be straw.

  Was she in a tent?

  She drew in the small room, seeing the only other furniture was a small table that had a leather satchel and wooden bucket on it. The floor was simply matted grass that had started to brown from its lack of water and sunlight.

  There was a scuffling then, just outside, a few feet to the left of where she lay. Her eyes widened when the tent flap was yanked open, revealing a man in tan calfskin pants and a dirty, blousy shirt. She was alarmed to see he carried a rifle over his shoulder.

  “You’re awake,” he said, from the doorway.

  She tried to move her arms, but they couldn’t be stirred.

  He said, “You took a fall in the woods early this morning when it was still dark, running as if death had its grip on you.” He gestured to the outside. “You were knocked senseless and so I…I carried you here to rest.”

  Kara stared.

  “I hope you haven’t been hurt too severely,” he said with sympathy. He pushed back stray hairs that had fallen loose from his ponytail. He was muscular, wearing clothing that would’ve been better suited in a historical re-enactment group than here in this…where was she? Here in this…tent.

  “Where am I?” The voice was feminine, light.

  But it wasn’t Kara who had spoken.

  Kara twisted around and, as she did, she found she was now standing and in the corner of the tent. Feeling had been restored in her limbs. She glanced down, finding she was barefooted. When she looked back up, a woman with tangled, long, blonde hair had replaced her on the makeshift mattress. The woman’s face was a blur, however.

  Kara rubbed her eyes, but the face remained impossibly hazy. The rest of her, from her hair to her soiled blue gown to her booted feet, was crisp in contrast.

  The man replied simply, with no hint of accusation, “You are trespassing on my land. Where are you headed?” He stepped inside, the flap closing, making the space small and intimate.

  Kara’s eyes flicked from his guarded face to the blonde’s misty one.

  The blonde looked around, sitting up. She rested a hand on her belly, which Kara could see was swollen. “I don’t remember.”

  “Were you being chased?”

  “I’m not sure…I…” The blonde’s words trailed off as she looked down. Suddenly, she was panic-stricken. “Where is it?” She scrambled around on the mattress, her fingers rooting for something. “Where is it?” she asked again, urgently.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “It’s not here! Did you take it?” The blonde looked up at him. She raised her voice, asking, “Why would you take it away?”

  Looking confused, he squatted, peering at the bedding. “I took nothing, madam. What are you missing?”

  “My father made that. It’s not yours to take!” The blonde bent over and started sobbing. Kara stepped closer to the mattress and peered down, as if she would be the one who’d find the lost item. The mat was so thin and ragged, however, that she couldn’t imagine being able to hide anything of substance.

  “What is it you lost?” the man asked gently. He reached down and touched the blonde’s shoulder. The woman turned her misty face in Kara’s direction and screamed, “Give it to me!”

  Kara jumped back, falling to the ground. She wanted to escape, but her limbs had gone numb again. Squeezing her eyes shut, her only protection in the stifling tent, she blocked out the screams.

  Her world went black again; she was spinning.

  It was the mewling of an animal that baited her to open her eyes. After a time, she did, with caution.

  It was evening now and she was no longer in the tent. She was indoors now, in an unfamiliar bedroom with wood-paneled walls. A fire crackled in one of its two fireplaces. The blonde, her face still a blur, lay in a large wood-framed bed, rocking a bundle of blankets in her arms. Kara’s eyes trailed around the room, which was filled with heavy pieces of furniture built with fine detail. Rich linens pooled at the foot of the bed, covering the woman at the calves and down. The man was gone.

  The blonde spoke up, her head bowed toward the bundle, “He will be here soon. Papa is never late.” But while her words were comforting, the manner in which she said them was not. The arms rocking the bunch were jittery and every now and again she flipped her hair. Kara, standing in the center of the room, her bare feet feeling the tight weave of the woven rug beneath her, looked at the door. She hesitated before going to the window behind the bed. She looked out the nearly floor-to-ceiling window made of bubbled glass. However, the glass didn’t look out to the outside. Instead, she was looking into a room.

  It was hazy, but she recognized the room. Her eyes rolled down, seeing shattered glass from a broken window dotting the plywood floor. Stacked boxes rose opposite her. She looked across the room and saw a dented box, a branch of an artificial Christmas tree poking out. Somehow, as impossible as it was, she realized she was looking through the window into the unfinished bonus room of her own house.

  How could that be?

  A silver marble rolled across the plywood, making a scraping sound.

  LEAVE!!!

  The word flashed behind her eyes, striking so suddenly she stepped back.

  The mewling started again. Kara turned on the shrouded woman. Confident the blonde was unaware of her, Kara crept closer to the expansive bed, stepping up onto the platform beside it, close enough to look down at the baby she cradled. The crying was a pinched, aggrieved whine, its timbre rising and falling, like a siren. The infant had to be sick. Kara raised her chin and tilted her head to spy the baby enfolded in the blankets, but there were too many folds. Daringly, she turned down the blanket at the head of the bundle. That revealed more blankets. She turned down another layer and another, but still, there was no baby to be seen.

  Ignoring the woman’s blurred face, mere inches from hers, Kara worked both hands into the fabric, pulling down and unwrapping. She unraveled them until they fell limply onto the woman’s chemise-covered lap. Kara scanned the blankets, then looked up at the blurry face, the awful cry continuing. Through the haze, she saw the formation of the woman’s mouth open and close, realizing in horror that that was where the terrible cry came from.

  Kara stumbled backward, stepping down off the platform and backing to the door. She tried the knob, but it spun in her hand. She frantically banged on the door, not caring the blonde might break out of her trance and notice her.

  Please, someone let me out! Please! Kara’s mind screamed.

  The mewling continued behind her.

  Please! Help! She tugged on the knob.

  The whine stopped abruptly, and the blonde said simply, “My baby.” Sniffling, she repeated, “My baby.”

  As Kara turned around to face her, the crying started again, but this time it sounded more like an infant’s natural wail. It came from the fireplace on the far side of the room. Cautiously, Kara moved to its stone plate set in the wood floor. The crying was louder, locked within the chimney. She knelt down in front of the hearth, ignoring the blonde’s cheerful statement of “Yes, there’s the baby! The baby’s fine. Yes, yes, fine
.”

  Kara looked up into the darkness of the chimney. The cry was urgent, an infant in distress. Black soot broke free, crumbling down onto her face and shoulders. Kara coughed, backing up, but the chimney stones were breaking. They caved in, the force of the blow sending her through the floor.

  She spun, rushing downward. Wind whistled through her hair as she shot through the air, eventually plunging down through liquid. She hit the bottom and stayed there, her rear-end scraping along rocks. Images flashed all around her, so quick she barely made sense of them: a group of men passing through woods, pressing their arms through branches as if searching; beams of sunlight filtering through an open, curtain-less window; blurred faces passing in the maelstrom; a baby, wailing in a cradle, and then…Kara bobbed to the surface of the water.

  She looked around, dazed. It took a moment to realize she was in a murky pool…no—a pond. Evergreens encircled it, hiding what lay beyond the haven. She spit out filthy water, crawling to the bank. She had just sat down, shivering, when a yell shot through the overcast day. Her head snapped up and turned toward it. It was the man from the tent, pacing twenty yards from her. He yelled again before running into the water. Alarmed, Kara watched him go under.

  His head popped up and he swam toward the center of the pond. He yelled again before disappearing underwater. Kara stood on shaky legs, eyes combing the surface. Several seconds later, he came up for air and then was down again. Her eyes darted over the dark surface. It was steady, except for where the water rippled around him. After several more seconds ticked by, she started into the water. When she was a foot deep, he came up. He swam to shore, something floating behind him.

  Kara squinted. It took a moment to make it out, but when she saw the long, matted hair, she knew who it was. She felt sick, watching him lift the lifeless woman out of the water and lay her on the grassy shore, her hair draped over her face.

  Kara maneuvered over the rocky soil to meet them. It was at her approach that he noticed her; Kara was a ghost no more. With deafening speed, he flicked his face in her direction, opened his mouth wide and screeched. His face, body, and person transformed into a turkey vulture. He took to the sky.

  Kara screamed.

  She closed her eyes to shut out the monster and was shrouded in darkness.

  The calming sound of water, quiet at first, then growing louder, filled her head, drowning her. The blackness spun to red, purple, and then orange until she dared blink her eyes open.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Kara opened her eyes, finding her surroundings had changed. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, a sheet wrapped tightly around her, and both arms stretched straight above her head. She blinked rapidly before recognizing she was lying in her bed. Her breathing slowed as she looked around. She wriggled, unable to feel her arms. She rolled to her side and wrestled around until she was able to break an arm free. It took a moment before she was able to use that arm to pull the other one above her head down to her side.

  She rubbed her forehead and leaned against the headboard. She sat like that for a long time, steadying her racing heart and massaging the sensation of needles from her limbs. She tried to remember the nightmare, but it was fading fast.

  “Mom?”

  Kara jumped. Her eyes went to the doorway where Jack stood apprehensively. She cleared her throat, finding her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?” He hesitated, one foot over the threshold.

  “I was just napping.” Trying to be light, she asked, “Why are you home so early?”

  He frowned. “It’s four. I just got home.”

  “Four?” She glanced at the clock, panic rising. Where had the day gone?

  “Shannon’s here,” he said.

  “Shannon?”

  “Hey there!” Shannon materialized beside Jack. “Hey, lady, how are you feeling?”

  “Hi, Mommy!” Lilah called from down the hall.

  “Hi, Lilah,” Kara mumbled.

  “I’m going outside,” Jack said, leaving.

  Shannon crossed the room and sat on the window bench. “Are you alright?”

  Kara shook her head slowly, still trying to clear the fog. “I can’t believe I overslept. Did you pick up Lilah from school?”

  “Yeah, They called John and he called me to see if I could get a hold of you, since he was only getting your voicemail.”

  Kara picked up her cellphone from the nightstand. She had missed two calls from Grace School, two from John, and three from Shannon. Dread sank into the pit of her belly. “I can’t believe I overslept and I didn’t even hear the phone ring. That’s terrible. And I’m sorry John didn’t get her.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He was worried the drive would take too long. I checked up on you, saw you were napping, and told him I’d get her. My boss is really understanding. He let me out early. It was no problem.”

  “You should’ve woken me. I can’t believe I slept through it all.”

  “You were out cold. I didn’t want to wake you. I know how hard it’s been for you to sleep.”

  “How did you get in the house?” That was another concern. Kara was so careful about locking the doors.

  “I lucked out with the backdoor. It was unlocked.”

  “It was?” Why would she have left the door unlocked? She scrolled through her memory. Had she opened the back..?

  Sophie’s receiving blanket.

  Kara had used it to towel off dishes like an idiot, a reckless move. She had gone outside to dry the blanket after she had come so close to destroying it.

  Mistaking her pained expression for worry, Shannon reassured her, “Don’t worry about it. Lilah and I went for lunch in town and we popped in a few shops. She had a blast, mama.” Shannon smiled. “We went to Buried Treasures.”

  “You did?”

  “We took her statue in. Lilah was a little reluctant, but she let the clerk look at it.”

  “Oh?” The haze was lifting and Kara was starting to focus.

  “I hope you didn’t have your hopes up too high. She said the statue is just a garden statue. There’s nothing special about it. It’s apparently just a coincidence to the picture on the shop sign.”

  Kara felt a twinge of disappointment. “So, the previous owner didn’t have any reason for the sign being so similar?”

  “Nope. Apparently, there’s no connection. It’s just a strange coincidence. Weird.” Shannon laughed, making Kara half-smile. Her head was so heavy.

  “I just don’t understand how I slept for so long…The dream was strange…” The memory of the faceless woman and the man in historical garb was fading fast.

  “Your body needed the sleep. Have you been alright since…?”

  Kara cringed inwardly, remembering Shannon had found her sleeping with the memory box. Her cellphone rang before she could reply. She answered the call, following Shannon into the foyer.

  “Hey.” It was John. “Is everything okay? I tried to call you.”

  “Yeah, we’re fine. I overslept. I meant to just take a nap…but I just woke up.”

  “Really? Are you sick?”

  “No…I don’t think so. I’m fine. Thank God Shannon was able to pick up Lilah.”

  “I’m glad she was able to get her. That was awesome. It would’ve taken me an hour to get there. You’re okay?”

  Kara rubbed her temple. “I’m fine, just waking up.”

  “Good…On another note…I have to work late tonight.”

  Kara’s head dropped. “Great. What time are you coming home?”

  He sighed. “At least a few more hours.”

  “I hate this project,” she groaned, exchanging glances with Shannon, whose expression was sympathetic.

  “I can stay with you until he comes home, if you want,” Shannon offered.

  Kara lifted her chin away from the phone, grasping on. “Do you mind?”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  When Kara hung up, Shannon said, “He works a l
ot, huh?”

  “It’s this project he’s been on. He’s trying to meet a dead—” Kara cried out, interrupted by three loud bangs on the front door.

  They saw movement on the other side of the sidelight. Frowning, Kara opened the door slowly.

  “Hi, Kara.”

  She blinked, stepping back. “Marvin! Hi.”

  “John home?” He stepped inside. When he noticed Shannon, he nodded.

  “Uh, no,” Kara replied, ignoring the image of the man who had flashed in her mind. “He’s working late.”

  Marvin whistled, but the high-pitched sound stopped short when he looked up. “I see you still don’t have a light up there.”

  “Not yet. Buried Treasures is rewiring it. I should have it in a week.”

  “Don’t want to leave wires exposed.”

  “Is that a fire hazard, leaving it like that?”

  “Yup. Need a light up there.”

  “Oh, I had no idea.” Kara wrung her hands. Her kids were on the floor directly above the open wire box. “I’ll see if John can put the old one back up tomorrow then.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Shannon asked, glancing up at the box before leveling her eyes on him. “That it’s a fire hazard?”

  He met her eyes and smiled. “Yup.” Looking at Kara again, he said, “No need to wait. I can put it up now.”

  “Oh, that’s alright. We have to rent scaffolding anyway to do it. John returned the one we had.”

  “I’ve got a ladder I think’ll reach.”

  Shannon turned to Kara. “I can call Tom to install it.”

  “No, no. No need.” Marvin shook his head. “I can do it. Be right back.” He turned around and left before Kara could stop him. “I guess he’s installing the light then,” she said with a laugh.