Holly studied the orchard for a few more minutes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Again she wondered if her imagination had played a trick on her. Dropping the apples she had gathered, she opened the back door and went inside.
Locking the door, she went into the living room to check on Tommy. He was sitting on the sofa watching television. The eight-year-old had apparently recovered from his frightening adventure in the woods. Patting him on the head, she went back into the kitchen. She looked out the back door once more, saw nothing, and then lifted the kitchen telephone from its cradle. Having dialed a number set to memory, she waited for the phone at the opposite end to ring. After three rings a voice came on the line. Holly answered.
"Hello, Mom. It's me. We need to talk."
22
Mike arrived home just in time for dinner. He had stayed longer than he planned at the library, then he had stopped by the hardware store to pick up a couple of extra chain locks for the front and back doors. He also purchased a dozen dowel rods; wedging one of the rods in each window track would prevent anyone from sliding it open from the outside.
Carrying the dowel rods and locks into the living room, he laid them on the coffee table. He planned to start on the windows and doors right after dinner. As he turned to leave, he noticed something was different about the room. It took a moment for it to dawn on him that all of the kachina statues were missing. The shelf where they had once stood was now completely bare.
"What the hell?"
He left the living room and entered the library. The statues were also missing from that room. In place of the kachinas several lit candles had been strategically placed about the room.
"Candles in the daytime?"
Leaving the library, he walked into the kitchen. Holly was just setting the plates and silverware on the table. On the stove was a pot of spaghetti, and he could tell by the aroma in the air that she had also made fresh garlic bread.
"You're just in time to eat," she said, flashing him a quick smile. "How did it go at the library? Did your research turn up anything?"
"I came up with a few things," he answered, crossing the room to wash his hands in the sink.
"Oh? Like what?"
"It's rather complicated. I'll tell you after we eat." He turned the water off and grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands. "By the way, what happened to the kachina dolls?"
Holly set a cutting board in the center of the table, and then set the pot of spaghetti on top of that. "I packed them away in boxes. They're in the basement."
"All of them? Why?"
She turned to look at her husband. "Because they gave me the creeps. That's why. I was getting tired of walking into a room and having a hundred hideous statues stare at me. I'm also getting tired of having to turn them back around all of the time. Someone obviously thinks it's funny to turn the statues around backward. I don't. Therefore, I stopped all of the fun and games by putting the statues away. Let's see who gets the last laugh now."
Mike thought it over and then nodded. "I can't blame you there. That joke lost its humor the first time around. It's a pity we have to pack away the statues though, because I really like them. My grandmother had a pretty nice collection going, much nicer than any I've ever seen before."
Holly smiled. "If you want to play with your grandmother's toys you can always go down in the basement."
"That's all right. I don't like the statues that much." He smiled back at her. "So, what are you going to do with all that empty shelf space?"
"I'll think of something. If nothing else, we'll put books on them."
Holly called the children down to dinner. Tommy came down first, but he was sent back upstairs to wash his hands. Megan appeared a minute or so later. Though she still favored her right foot a bit, the cut had already healed enough to allow her to go back to school the next day.
After dinner, Mike helped put away the leftovers and clean the dishes. Finished with that, he went out onto the front porch to smoke a cigarette and enjoy the weather. Holly and Tommy joined him a few minutes later. The worried expression on his son's face warned him that the boy was in some kind of trouble.
Mike told Tommy to sit down, then listened as the boy told about everything that had happened to him earlier in the day. Mike was less than thrilled to learn that his son had disobeyed him by going into the woods, but there was no sense getting upset before he had heard everything. As the story progressed, he was filled less with anger than he was with concern for Tommy's safety.
When his son told about being chased by shadows, a feeling of uneasiness settled deep inside Mike's stomach. It was the second time in two days that his children had told him about being chased by shadowy creatures. He didn't think Tommy or Megan was making the shadows up; at least he couldn't imagine why they would do such a thing. Maybe the shadows had been imagined, real only to them, sparked by something they had both seen on television.
When Tommy finished his story, Mike said, "Now do you see why I don't want you going into the forest by yourself?"
The boy nodded.
"It's dangerous in those woods, especially for a young person. There's poisonous snakes, spiders, God knows what else. You could also get turned around and lost very easily. It happens all of the time. How would you like to get lost in the woods and not be able to find your way back? How would you like to spend the night out there by yourself, in the dark, with no food and water, and with lots of wild animals all around you? Would you like that?"
Tommy shook his head, his eyes starting to water.
"You're damn right you wouldn't like it. And do you know why? I'll tell you why: because there's things in that forest. Scary things. Things that would just love to eat an eight-year-old boy all up. Eat him up and spit out the bones. Spit them out all shiny and clean, white as your teeth. And then where would you be, all eaten up and dead? You wouldn't have a mommy or daddy then, no big sister to play with. You would be just a bunch of bones lying on the ground. That's what you would be."
Tommy was openly crying now. Mike looked from his son to Holly and saw the anger in her face. He had overdone it, deliberately frightening the boy half out of his wits, but he wanted to make sure Tommy never ventured into the woods by himself again.
Softening his voice, he reached out and patted his son on the head. "You don't have anything to worry about as long as you stay in the yard where it's safe. You understand? And you don't have anything to worry about if I take you into the woods, because scary things are afraid of me. That's because I'm pretty scary myself. Don't you think?"
Mike made a face, pushing his nose up and pulling down on his lower eyelids. Tommy laughed and blew snot out of his nose, which made him laugh all the harder.
"Now you can go back into the house. Watch television if you want. I won't punish you as long as you promise never to go into the forest by yourself again."
"I promise," Tommy said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
"Tommy, use a napkin!" Holly said, too late with the warning.
Mike gave the boy a pat on the butt and sent him on his way. Holly waited for the screen door to close before turning to her husband.
"What are you trying to do, scare him to death?" She didn't disguise the anger in her voice.
"Better a frightened child than a dead one," Mike replied. "The woods are dangerous for a boy of his age. He could have gotten lost, stepped on a copperhead, any number of things. I wanted to put a scare into him so he would think twice about wandering off by himself again."
"He was already frightened enough this afternoon. I doubt if he would even think of going into the woods again by himself. What you told him will probably just give him nightmares."
"A good nightmare may be just what he needs to kill the exploring lust."
"Easy for you to say," Holly said. "You don't have to get out of bed if he wakes up screaming. Besides, he wouldn't have wandered off if you'd told him his cat was dead."
Mike looked toward the screen door
. "Shhh... he'll hear you."
"So what if he does? He has to find out sooner or later. We can't hide it from him forever."
Mike nodded. "You're right. But he doesn't have to find out tonight. Does he? I was planning on telling him in the next day or so, when I could break the news to him gently. Now would not be a good time to tell him."
She sat on the steps and looked at him. "What if what Tommy saw wasn't in his imagination? What if the shadows he said he saw were real?"
Mike almost laughed. "What? Am I supposed to believe that a couple of shadows chased my son through an apple orchard? It sounds like a really bad science fiction story."
"What if I told you I saw them too?"
"You're not serious?"
"I'm dead serious," Holly replied, looking straight at him. "When Tommy came running into the house this afternoon, I went out to the orchard to see what had frightened him. At first I didn't see anything, but then I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my left eye. Just a glimpse, something moving very fast, running low to the ground.
"I didn't get a good look at it, because it disappeared in the shadows beneath one of the apple trees. But I knew it was there, watching me."
"How did you know? Could you see its eyes?" Mike asked.
She shook her head. "No. I couldn't see it. Not even the eyes. But I knew it was there. This may sound funny, but I could tell it was watching me. I could feel it. Watching. Waiting. I couldn't see a damn thing, but it was there in the darkness. I stood there and watched for several minutes, then the second one showed up."
"There were two of them?"
Holly nodded. "The second one crept up behind me while I was watching the first one. I wouldn't have known it was there if I hadn't heard it. It made a funny sound: a strange hissing, whispering noise. I turned toward the noise and saw something dart beneath the apple tree closest to me. Got a good look at it, only there wasn't much to see. Just a dark shadow gliding over the ground, a shadow no bigger than a small dog."
"Maybe the shadow was caused by a cloud passing in front of the sun."
"I thought of that," she said, "but this was too dark to be a shadow caused by a cloud. And shadows don't whisper. Nor do they run away when you throw apples at them."
"You threw an apple at it?"
"When I turned to look at the second shadow, the first one ran at me. I heard it coming, that strange whispering sound as if it were talking. I turned and threw an apple at it, and the shadow changed directions and ran away from me. It disappeared beneath one of the trees two rows from where I was standing. I threw apples at the other shadow too, and it also ran away."
"You're my wife, and I love you dearly, but I must say that I'm finding this very hard to believe."
"You think I'm making this up?" Fire flashed in her eyes.
Mike held his hands in front of him, protectively. "No. No. Not at all. I believe you. At least I believe you saw something. Tommy and Megan probably saw something too. I'm just finding it hard to believe that it was a shadow and nothing more. There has to be a logical explanation for it: a trick of the lighting, a cloud, a buzzard soaring overhead. Something."
"The shadow that followed Megan was inside," Holly countered. "No clouds or buzzards."
"I know. I know. He nodded. "But there still has to be a rational explanation."
"Maybe. Maybe not," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"I spoke with my mother this afternoon, and she said the shadows might be spirits of some kind. Ghosts. She thinks something bad may have happened to them to keep them here. She also thinks they might be evil."
Mike laughed. "I can just see the headlines now: ‘Evil Spirits Attack Family of Horror Writer’."
"Well, the shadows are real, because I saw them," Holly argued. "And what my mother said makes about as much sense as anything else I can think of. You know I don't believe in ghosts. Not really. But there has been some strange stuff going on since we moved in. And you said yourself there was a Civil War battle fought on the property."
"A small skirmish. Not a battle."
"Whatever. People died."
"And what does your mother suggest we do to get rid of these bothersome spirits?"
"She suggested I light a few candles and say a prayer."
"So it was her idea to light all the candles? I should have known. Doesn't she know that it isn't safe to burn candles in a wooden house, especially one as old as this?"
"I only lit a couple of candles, and only in the library. I made sure they were in the center of the room, well away from the curtains or anything else that might catch on fire. And I won't burn them all night, or when we're gone, just while we're here to keep an eye on them."
"So, have the candles helped?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's too early to tell."
"Did you also tell your mother about the faces?"
She shook her head. "I think the shadows were enough to talk about for one day."
Holly stood up and brushed off the back of her shorts. "You coming in?"
"I'll be there in a few minutes. I just want to sit out here for a little while more."
She nodded and left him sitting on the porch. Mike had intended to tell his wife about the things he had learned at the public library, but after her story abut the shadows he was almost afraid to mention the things Connie Widman had told him about his grandmother. Now was not a good time to bring up stories about boogers and hobgoblins, when half the family was already scared of shadows. Best not make things any worse than they already were.
He was reluctant to believe the shadows could be ghosts, hoping things would soon be explained logically. Still he was going to install the extra locks on the doors before going to bed, and place the dowel rods in the window tracks to prevent the windows from being opened from the outside.
Flipping his cigarette butt onto the grass, Mike stood up. He had a lot of work to do before going to bed.
* * * * *
That night he was twice awakened from a sound sleep by strange noises coming from downstairs. But when he investigated the noises, he found nothing amiss. The house was quiet, but it was a strange silence that greeted him as he descended the stairs. It was as if he had interrupted someone, and they were now watching him from the darkness. There was no one there, of course, but he could not shake the feeling that something was going on behind his back. Though he found no one in any of the rooms he searched, Mike had the unshakable feeling he was not alone.
He was halfway up the stairs when an idea struck him. Turning around, he went back downstairs and entered Holly's art studio. Flipping on the light, he searched the shelves until he found what he was looking for. He removed a roll of transparent tape, a spool of black thread, and a pair of scissors. Turning off the light, he left the room.
Mike went back upstairs, taking the steps slowly to keep from making any noise. Once on the second floor, he tiptoed down the hallway until he came to Megan's room.
His daughter had gone to bed hours earlier and should have been sound asleep. Still, just to be on the safe side, he paused in front of the door listening carefully.
Standing there in the hallway he felt like a sneak. He also felt badly, for what he was about to do was to question his daughter's honesty. If she found out, it would surely drive a wedge into their relationship, a relationship that had been forged on his trusting Megan and respecting her privacy.
Since he heard no sounds coming from Megan's room, he was certain his daughter was sleeping. She rarely stayed up late on school nights, despite having her parents' permission to do so if she wanted.
Stepping to the side of the door, Mike knelt down and place the items he had taken from the art room on the carpet. Holding the spool of black thread in his left hand, he cut a piece long enough to reach across the bottom of the doorway with a couple of strips of tape, making sure to kept the thread about six inches off the floor.
Standing up, he stepped back to admire his h
andiwork. The thread was very thin and would break easily if anyone bumped it while entering or exiting the doorway. He wouldn't have used anything thicker, because he didn't want to trip Megan. He only wanted to know if she left her room anytime during the night. Nor would Megan know a trap had been set, because the thread was all but invisible in the darkness. He would remove it in the morning, prior to getting her up for school.
You are truly a rotten bastard.
He probably was, but Mike was determined to find out who was responsible for the strange occurrences that had happened in the past couple of days. If Megan was sneaking out of her room at night to turn the kachina dolls around backwards, or to paint strange faces on the kitchen floor, then he wanted to know about it. Secretly setting up a video camera would probably have been even better, but he didn't own such a camera, so a piece of thread and a little American ingenuity would have to do.
Gathering up the tape, scissors, and thread, he crept down the hall and repeated the process at Tommy's door. He really didn't think his son had anything to do with what was going on, but he just wanted to be sure. With the black thread booby-trap, any doubts about his son's innocence would be eliminated. Finished with Tommy's door, he gathered up the items and went back to bed.
It was nearly dawn when Mike awoke again. At first he was just content to lie there, staring up at the ceiling, knowing he didn't have to get up for another hour, but then he remembered the traps he had set. He needed to remove the thread and tape before Holly or any of the kids saw the booby-traps. He didn't need to get into an argument about why he no longer trusted his children.
Climbing out of bed, he quietly slipped out of his pajamas and into lightweight pants, slip-on shoes, and a knit shirt. Holly stirred once while he was dressing, but did not fully wake up. Tiptoeing across the room, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
No noise came from either of the children's rooms, so he was certain they were still asleep. Had they been up, a stereo would have been playing. Tommy liked to play one of his Disney tapes while getting dressed for school. Megan preferred listening to the top 40 on the rock-and-roll station.
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