by Kris Calvert
I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. I could feel the now cold and murky water enveloping my body. And then the darkness came.
17
ELIZA
In the three days since Magda had come to our home, I let the construction workers go, telling them we’d get back at it soon. After hearing what was possibly inside my house, I knew I couldn’t put anyone else in danger. I still felt guilty for pinning Magda to the wall with the table, bruising her hips and legs. Luckily she was okay, but Ray and I weren’t willing to take that kind of chance again.
The darkness that lurked under my eyes and across my face was just one indicator that I hadn’t slept in weeks. Too afraid to close my eyes for any length of time, if I did happen to doze off, the banging from the third floor would wake me. It was as if something didn’t want me to take refuge in sleep.
Constantly clinging to each other, the craziness that plagued Park Ave was bringing Ray and I closer together, not further apart—something we were both thankful for and surprised by. Ray had even commented that it was hard on him to be apart from me most days—missing me terribly and finding it difficult to get me out of his head. I took it as a compliment and hoped that we were going to come out on the other side of this a stronger, more committed couple. Part of me just didn’t want to be committed to the psych ward. When I mentioned that very thing, Ray held me close and promised me saying, “Someday, we’ll find our happily ever after.”
Climbing the steps to the old courthouse downtown, I pulled my thin down-filled jacket around my neck and tightened my scarf. Winter was following quickly on the heels of fall, even if the leaves were still hanging on.
I was on a fact-finding mission. I needed to know details of the Park Avenue house, and I needed to know them now. The past was obviously the key to the future of our happiness and I didn’t want to wait a moment longer to find out what that might be—no matter how dark or disturbing.
I’d called Brian, my long lost real estate agent, hoping for any information. He had none, but suggested I take my search to the courthouse. “Every legal transaction that ever took place on that property will be documented. That’s your best bet for finding out who’s lived inside the house,” he said.
“Brian, you really don’t know anything?” I asked again. Something deep in my gut told me he did but wasn’t willing to give it up.
“The registry of deeds is what you’re after, Liz. Start there.”
Stopping only at the information desk to find my way, the old man sent me to the third floor with a smile.
Three more questions, a couple of uninformed workers, and one knowledgeable helper, and I was paying them cash for print outs to what they’d found—the original plans from the building permit in 1903. I stared at my copies of the old documents and saw on paper what Park Ave was supposed to look like. For the first time in days I smiled. I could take the house back to its original plan now armed with the old blueprints.
The owner’s name was smudged in the corner and I could only make out the last three letters: PUS.
Even though I was beyond pleased with the original plans of the house, it gave me no indication of who had lived there. The abstract of the property that would list all of the previous owners of Park Ave was nowhere to be found. “I’ll keep looking,” the old man said to me as I stood rifling through the sheets I had managed to obtain. “Sometimes documents get misfiled and the property you’re looking at is over a hundred years old. There’s been plenty of time for someone to pull the original record and not put it back where it belonged. Don’t worry. I’ll keep looking. I kinda like going on treasure hunts and this looks like it might be a good one.”
“You have no idea.” I nodded at the old man doing his best to be helpful. “May I give you my number in case you find anything?” I pulled my business card from my huge purse that contained everything, and yet nothing at all, and wrote my cell number in large numbers on the back.
He stared at the number and gave me a smile. “Fifteen oh nine.”
It was the last four numbers of my phone number. “Yes. Is my handwriting not legible?”
“No, I can read it just fine.”
“Okay then,” I said with a nod as I walked away. “Thank you.”
“Just seems like an odd coincidence, I guess.”
Turning I caught his eye. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“The original plot number for the land.”
I shook my head in confusion.
He raised his bony finger in the air. “Check your plans.”
Pulling the papers from my purse, I thumbed through to the page that showed the original plat and survey of the property. 1509.
The blood rushed to my face as I looked back to the old man in disbelief. “That’s just a coincidence. Right?”
“Depends on how much you believe in coincidence, I suppose. I’ll let you know when I find more information.”
I stumbled on my own feet as I backed up, searching for the door. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Out of breath from the cold wind that had caused the crispy leaves to take flight all around Baltimore, I closed the door to my old truck and shivered. “I can’t think about this,” I said aloud. “But you have to think about this, Liz.”
I looked at myself in the mirror as a cold chill raced up my spine. The wind howled through my truck and I glanced away from my reflection only for a moment to place my hand on the ignition when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Snapping my head around I stared through the closed window and into the bed of the truck filled with lumber and a couple of old, empty Diet Coke cans. The wind blew again, this time swaying the cab of the old Chevy and I turned the ignition hoping the heat hadn’t been off so long that it would take another fifteen minutes to warm up again.
The engine whinnied and I knew from the sound, I wasn’t going to be starting the truck without a jump. I glanced up and down the street and decided my best bet was to call Ray. The Starbucks on the corner called to me, so I grabbed my laptop, my bag and my keys, and locked up before hustling inside to escape the howling wind.
I pulled the hair from my face and adjusted my scarf as soon as the door closed behind me. Everyone turned and I smiled. “It’s windy out there.”
I ordered a chai tea latte and found a cozy corner where I could call Ray and look at my house plans more closely.
“You’re not going to believe this,” I said as soon as Ray answered.
“After the past few months we’ve had?” he asked. “Try me.”
“I have the original plans to Park Ave. What do you think about that?”
“Do you have the original owner’s name?”
“It’s smudged on the papers, but the little old man at the courthouse is looking for me.”
“Okay. Well that’s good, right? A step in the right direction.”
“And the bad news…” I hesitated.
“Babe, it couldn’t get a whole lot worse.”
“The truck’s dead. I’m pretty sure it’s the battery.”
“Where are you?” he asked with a heavy sigh. I hated interrupting his workday or stopping him when he was on an artistic roll. I knew what it was like to have my rhythm broken.
“At a Starbucks downtown. I’ve got my computer and I’m going to work here until you’re ready to take a break or you’re finished for the day. Don’t stop now on account of me and the Chevy.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. I could tell by the sound of his voice he was thankful I was giving him an out.
“Yes. I’m sure. Just text me when you’re on your way so I can be on the lookout for you. And don’t forget the jumper cables.”
“I won’t,” he replied. “Stay warm. It’s really windy out there. I’ve had to walk through the house and lock all the windows up. They keep slipping if they aren’t locked tight.
“Okay. I’ll let you get back to it.”
“I love you, babe.”
“You too. See you soon.”
I unwrapped the scarf from my neck like a package on Christmas—fast and ready to free what was inside. It felt strangely nice to feel a breeze on my throat as I was beginning to warm up. Taking a sip of my tea, I opened my laptop and connected to the Wi-Fi.
Pulling out my notebook with the plans tucked inside, I noticed the Post-it note on the front in Jess’ handwriting. Gold Edmund.
I peeled the note off, sticking it to my hand while I stared at the words. With one finger I pecked in Gold and Edmund and hit return.
I sat back in my chair and felt my heart race. In front of me on a blinking screen was a photograph of Dr. Edmund Gold, Baltimore, Maryland.
I clicked on the first link and found myself tapping my fingers on the tabletop in frustrated anticipation. “C’mon…c’mon…”
18
BEAUTY
I woke, lying on a hard table in the middle of the third floor. My clothes had all but been removed and my body lurched at the idea of lying about naked.
“Lie still, you little whore.”
Sitting up, I watched Sir walk toward me. With each step he disrobed, starting with his tie, moving in a seamless manner to remove his braces and unbuttoning his trousers.
“No,” I whispered as I jumped off the table, picking up my wet clothes from the floor of the room.
“No?” He questioned me with an edge of sarcasm to his voice.
I backed away from him, clinging to my wet dress.
“It’s about damn time. I want a taste of what you’ve been keeping to yourself.”
Retreating into the wall, I said the only thing I could. “No.”
“You heard me. Don’t keep that warm, dark haven all to yourself. Get on the table now, or you’ll end up like your friends.”
Grabbing me by the back of the head and pulling me to the table, he threw me across it face down with a grunt.
Struggling, I freed myself for only a moment before he slammed my head into the table. Panting, I heard his trousers fall to the floor. Pushing my legs apart with his own, I screamed only to find his sweaty palm covering my face.
“Shut up, you bitch,” he said, with a guttural moan. “Shut up and take it.”
19
ELIZA
I waited in the darkness and cold inside the old truck. There was so much to tell Ray—so much to talk about. I was armed with plenty of information, but when Jess refused to pick up her phone, I could only leave messages—four of them in fact. I was nearly bursting from the inside. I was so excited to explain all I’d learned about Dr. Edmund Gold. I couldn’t wait to show Ray his picture. It was uncanny—but I didn’t want to freak him out over the phone, so I’d decided to wait until we were home where he could come unglued in my presence. It was surely the key to what was unknown about Park Ave.
The wind hadn’t let up, and the temperature had dropped quickly since Ray had called to tell me he was on his way. White puffs of air formed in front of my cold nose each time I took a breath. If he didn’t show up soon, I was going back inside the coffee shop.
“Dr. Edmund Gold.” I said the words and looked at myself in the rearview mirror, checking for headlights coming down the road that might be for me. “I bet you’d have a lot to tell me Dr. Gold,” I said as I pulled the hairband from my wrist, piling my hair on top of my head in a messy bun.
I glanced back at myself, tightening the rubber band at the crown of my head with both hands—then I felt it.
Jerking my neck backwards, my head slammed into the window behind my seats as I cried out in pain. I reached for whatever was ramming my head into the glass over and over and felt a burning sensation on the top of my hand.
Pulling my arm down as my butt lifted off the seat of the truck, I felt the scarf around my neck begin to tighten like a boa constrictor slithering in a circle and cutting off my air.
Lights flashed in my eyes and I stepped on the brake pedal over and over trying to gain some leverage to pull away while groping at my neck to free the scarf. Pressing my elbow into the steering wheel, the old Chevy let loose its loud horn as I faded away.
“Lizzie!”
The tunnel I stood in was dark. I smiled, thinking that it looked like the opening of a James Bond film—from inside the barrel of a gun. The air was cool and I took a deep, cleansing breath, feeling calm for the first time in as long as I could remember.
I felt a pull from inside my chest and my body jerked as dampness overcame me. Reaching for my throat I coughed.
“Lizzie!”
I opened my eyes and found Ray standing over me in the cab of the truck.
“Oh thank God, Liz!” he shouted, breathing whatever garlic dish he’d had for lunch in my face at a rapid pace.
I shuddered, trying my best to gain a full breath. “What happened?” I asked, blinking at Ray. The tears in his eyes told me everything he couldn’t say.
“I thought I’d lost you, Liz,” he cried into my shoulder as he hugged me tightly.
“I’m here.” I struggled to get the words out, but they somehow came. “What happened?”
“I pulled up and you were laying on the horn. I thought it was a joke—that you were pissed at me for taking so long getting here. But you stopped and when I got to you, your lips were blue and your scarf was tied so tightly around your neck—”
Ray stopped to sniff back his emotions. It was only the second time I’d ever seen him cry and his distress fueled my own. “It’s okay,” I choked out through my sudden and profuse tears. “I’m fine.”
The pain on the top of my hand burned as if I’d touched a searing hot iron. I held it at a distance and found three deep scratches seeping blood. I pulled the cuff of my shirt over it and buried my face in Ray’s shoulder. He held me tightly, rocking back and forth. “Lizzie, I can’t lose you. I don’t say it enough, but you’re the only thing in my life that’s worth a damn. I’m no good without you baby. I’m just not.”
Pushing him to an arms distance, he stared at me. A tear began to fall, but Ray caught it with his hand, rubbing his eye with his fist. “Can you stand?”
“I couldn’t breathe, Ray. And I was in this dark tunnel, but I wasn’t afraid. I felt calm. A calm I haven’t felt since…”
“Since we moved to Park Avenue.”
I sobbed between fits of breath and felt my face swell with my stuffy nose. “I refuse to be a victim, Ray. I refuse.”
He shook his head at me, tears still in his eyes. “I want to figure this out too, Lizzie, but we’ve already paid for the house once. I’m not going to pay for it with your life, too.”
“I know.” I managed to squeak the words out, but found myself holding my breath as I tried to get a handle on my unmanageable sobs.
“Let me get you out of this damn truck. Can you walk?”
“I’m fine.” I wanted to assure him that I was okay, but my legs were like Jell-O and when he swept me off my feet and carried me to his Jeep, I was thankful I didn’t have to demonstrate just how fine I was.
Setting me down for only a moment, Ray opened the door and promptly placed my bottom on the warm leather seat. My teeth chattered and he took off his coat and spread it over my body. “Fuck it. We’re leaving the truck for the night. I’m getting you to a hospital.”
Ray hurried into the driver’s seat and started the Jeep. Grabbing his wrist I spoke. “I want to go home. I don’t need to go to the hospital—and don’t leave my purse and my laptop in the truck. Someone will steal it.” I could barely get the words from my dry mouth. I was already sick with exhaustion. Sitting in the waiting room with a bunch of puking and wheezing people wasn’t going to do anything for me tonight. “Please,” I begged.
Ray turned the ignition and nodded before climbing out of the car and retrieving my stuff. “Fine,” he said as he got back in. “But if anything like this happens again, we’re off to the emergency room.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. I knew if I didn’t acknowledge him he’d take me to the hospital directly.
The
ride back to Park Ave was quick and when Ray tried to carry me into the house I finally protested. “Dude, I got this.” Giving him the stiff-arm, he smiled.
“Thank God you’re back to your old self.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice hoarse from the whole incident. “All I can say is that it’s a damn good thing I’m not a vampire.”
“What?” he laughed. “Okay, I’ll bite—no pun intended.”
“The garlic breath on you is deadly. Maybe that’s why I lost consciousness.”
Shaking his head, he gave me a sexy grin. “I don’t think that’s it, but I’ll go brush my teeth and wash away my chicken with broccoli in garlic sauce I had for lunch.”
I sat on the couch and Ray handed me my bag with all the papers I’d procured as well as my laptop. “Ray,” I said, stopping him in his tracks.
“Yeah?”
“I need to show you something.”
“Okay.”
“Go brush your teeth and before you come back down, get that one charcoal drawing you did of the man.”
“What man?”
“What do you mean what man. The man”
I couldn’t believe he’d already forgotten about the drawing he’d done in his sleep.
He blinked at me hard and gave me a single nod before stoking the fire once and heading up the stairs.
I walked into the dining room to where the old mirror hung. The crack made me look like two different people as I stood and examined my neck. It was bruised, as if I’d been strangled. That in itself was a good enough reason not to go to the emergency room. There was no way a doctor would believe I was choked out by a something not of this world while I sat in my truck. Ray would surely be questioned and that was the last thing we needed right now.
Sipping on the bottle of water I’d grabbed from the kitchen on the way to the parlor, I wondered how to break the news to Ray. As he descended the staircase, the large charcoal drawing in his hand and the look on his face made me wonder if I should tell him at all. “What is it?” I asked.