by N. M. Howell
I meticulously went from picture to picture taking down names of loved ones and addresses. In the end I captured thirteen addresses, ten of which were in Brimstone Bay. Of the remaining nine, two were too old to remember, one was so old that the address he gave me didn’t even exist anymore, two of the paintings were of couples who only had each other and had no idea who would be looking after their bodies. Two refused to speak, one was the little blonde girl who didn’t know her own address but said she lived on a hill and the final one was the dog.
“I’m going to call Jordan.” I decided. “We are going to need a car to get around all these addresses. I don’t fancy trying to cycle with them.”
“Good idea,” agreed Bailey. “I’ll ask Brett too.”
“He won’t be able to help us. He’ll be in his cop car,” pointed out Jane.
“I’ll tell him it’s official police business.” Bailey winked
We both whipped out our phones and dialled or respective boyfriends.
“Hey. I’ve been trying to call you. I just saw Brett and he told me what happened yesterday. I was just about to put someone else in charge and come over to see you.” I looked down at my phone. There were a dozen missed calls, all from Jordan. My phone had been on silent and I’d missed them all.”
“I’m sorry. I’m fine. I should have called you.” I felt like the world’s worst girlfriend. “I need your help. Do you think you could put someone in charge and come over to the house? You were going to do that anyway.”
I heard him sigh on the other end. I knew I was asking a lot. He hated leaving his restaurant when he didn’t have to. I figured this classed as an emergency though.
“Sure. I’ll be right over.”
He arrived at exactly the same time as Brett which made it easier to tell them both together. I knew Jordan would get it. He’d been around me long enough to see plenty of magic before. I was surprised how well Brett took it though. He didn’t seem fazed at all. Either he’d seen how bad I was yesterday and really wanted to help, or he really loved Bailey. The thought gave me warm fuzzies inside.
“We can take half the portraits in each car,” I said once both men had agreed to help. “There are ten in Brimstone Bay and three in other towns.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to take all the ones that have addresses in Brimstone Bay in one car and the other three in the other car?
As the other cities were at least a couple of hours away, I had to agree.
“I’ll take the three,” said Bailey.
“It looks like we are doing Brimstone Bay,” I said to Jordan. “I hope your car is big enough.”
“Do you all remember the incantation Mrs. Brody used to get the people out of the portraits?” asked Jane. It was then I saw the flaw in the plan. The first time she’d done it, she’d done it to me and I’d not paid attention. The second time she’d done it was at John Barnes house and I’d been in the kitchen with Mrs. Barnes.
“I thought not,” said Jane in answer to or blank expressions. It’s a good idea I pay attention. Let me show you.
She put her hands on a canvas and spoke some words I’d not heard before. I committed them to memory and thanked her.
“Just remember that the person has to be touching the canvas when you say the spell or it won’t work.
“Got it!”
We helped Brett and Bailey load their car first and watched as they set off. They would be out all day just doing those three paintings. If we were quick, Jordan and I could even beat them back. Brimstone Bay was a pretty small place.
Jane helped us squeeze in all the paintings. I ran back and picked up the portrait of the girl. She didn’t know her own address, but she might recognise her house.
“I’ll stay here and see what I can find out from the other portraits,” said Jane, waving us goodbye.
“How exactly is this going to work?” asked Jordan.
“We drive to each address and figure a way to get the occupants of the portraits to touch the paintings.”
“How you gonna do that?”
I told him about the ludicrous story we’d made up for Mrs. Barnes the day before.
“That worked?” he asked me incredulously.
Ok, maybe I’d have to come up with a better excuse than a painting made with disappearing ink.
The first house was pretty close by. I made up some story and was let in with the painting. The incantation Jane taught me worked and I was elated when I returned to the car after freeing a middle aged woman.
“One down, ten more to go!”
One by one I freed the people, including the two moving men, as Jordan waited in the car, It was dark by the time we got down to our last portrait. The little girl.”
“We need to find a hill!” I said.
“There are a few hills around here. Can you be more specific?” asked Jordan. I could see he was itching to get back to the restaurant before the evening rush.
“One with houses on?” I ventured. He sighed, but drove me to a hill nonetheless.
I held the portrait up, wedging it between my knees in the passenger seat, with the face pointing out so the little girl could see.
“Do you recognise any of these houses?” I asked her for, what felt like the millionth time that evening.
“I don’t think so.” she said in a small voice.
We should have done her first when it was still light. The poor kid would barely be able to see the houses in the dark.
“I’m heading back into town. We can find her parents tomorrow. It’s too dark to see anything now. Jordan echoed my own thoughts. I was tired with all the magic I’d performed and just wanted to be home.
On the way back, the little girl squealed.
“That’s my house!”
She couldn’t point but I knew which one she meant. It had colorful lights wrapped around the trees in the garden. I could just make out a swing set in the darkness. It must have been that one because she wouldn’t have been able to see the others.
Jordan pulled up to the curb and I jumped out with the portrait. When her parents opened the door I recognised them immediately from the restaurant. Both of them had puffy eyes as if they had been crying recently. I guess having a small child who had turned into a zombie would do that to you.
I gave them some excuse and brought their daughter back to them again. She gave me a hug and I couldn’t help but grin. It had been a very successful day. I was just leaving when I noticed a dog lying unmoving in a dog bed. The name scamp had been embroidered on its bed. It had a black patch over its right eye.
Chapter 14
Jordan dropped me off at the house and left to go to work at the restaurant. I was caught up with thoughts of making it up to him when I walked into the kitchen to find three strangers eating, along with Jane, Rory, Brett, Bailey, and Mrs. Brodie.
“Ah, hey!” said Jane. “I made enough for you and Jordan. Where is he?”
“He had to go back to the restaurant. How did everyone go?” I asked, pulling up a stool that had been brought into the kitchen from someone’s room. I had to squeeze in between Rory and Bailey. It was such a tight squeeze around the small table that I had to tuck my elbows in close to my side. The plate of chicken wings and fries in front of me was enough to not care about lack of space.
“River, This is Tim, Jenny and Frank.” Mrs. Brody introduced me to the three strangers. They were from the paintings she had taken back to Mrs. Hemingway’s house. I noticed that Mrs. Brody was sat very close to Frank. I tried not to smirk as I picked up my first chicken wing and took a bite.
“Frank divorced Agnes,” said Mrs. Brody nonchalantly. “That’s why she put him in the frame.”
I grinned and caught the other girls doing the same. I could see Mrs. Brody’s cheeks were nearly as pink as her hair. Who’d have thought that Mrs. Brody would have a crush on someone? It was kinda sweet in a weird way. Frank for his part, seemed not to notice the mirth that his presence was causing around the table.
> “How did you get on?” Rory asked me, her face fill of chicken.
“I found all eleven...Twelve. I know where the dog lives. I’ll take the portrait to the house tomorrow morning. It’s small enough that I can take him on my bike. How would you like to go back to your owners Scamp?”
The dog in the portrait barked.
“We still have quite a few paintings left and no clue as to how to find the bodies of the occupants.” I said.
“One of them is at the house,” said Mrs. Brody. “Well two people, one picture. One of the couples is in the basement where I found these three. We couldn’t bring them back because there wasn’t room in the car. We can get them tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you worried that they are alone with Mrs. Hemingway?” asked Bailey.
“I’ve told you, you don’t need to worry about her. They’ve spent plenty of time alone in the house with her. Another night won’t make a difference.”
I looked at Rory but she just shrugged her shoulders.
That night, after letting the cats in, I went to bed feeling a mixture of emotions. On one hand, we’d freed so many people but on the other, we still had some to free and we had no way of knowing where they were. We’d done the easy part. The hard part was yet to come.
Chapter 15
Morning dawned and I still was no closer to helping the few remaining portraits. I decided to move the couple of portraits that were still in my room into Bailey’s room. That way the cats wouldn’t have to be thrown out again.
I picked up scamp from the kitchen counter and, tucking him under my arm, hopped on my bike and cycled up to his house. I waited until he was let out to do his business in the garden. The poor mite walked in a daze.
“I remember that feeling Scamp!” I ran up and placed his paw on his portrait. As soon as he was freed he began to bark joyfully and jump around in circles. Another happy customer!
My phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked who it was. The readout told me it was Rory.
“We are just going to Mrs. Hemingway’s to free that couple. Do you want to come?”
Not really. The place gave me the creeps and I don’t know what Mrs. Brody had done to Mrs. Hemingway, but did I want to chance that she was now safe.
“Mrs. Brody isn’t coming,” said Rory, not waiting for me to answer. “She wants to stay at the house and look after Frank, and Bailey and Jane are having another go at talking to the portraits we have left.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Er...”
“I also don’t know the incantation so really you have to come.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “I’m on my bike. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
As I pulled up to the house, a shiver of fear ran through me. Now that I knew what the shadows I’d seen were, I shouldn’t be scared, but the truth of the matter was, I was scared.
Rory pulled up a few minutes later.
“Are you ready?” she asked, pulling the large portrait of the young couple out of her car.
“Ready as I’ll ever be!” I grabbed one side of the painting and helped her carry it into the house. I let her lead me down to the basement. She knew the way as she’d already been there. The lights were all off as they had been when I’d last been at the house, but Rory had had the forethought to turn the torch app on her phone on.
The basement was like not the place from my nightmares as I had thought it would be. It was warm and dry and pleasantly decorated. It also had a working light – probably the only one in the whole house that did. If it wasn’t for the fact that five people had been trapped down here, it would be quite a nice room. I counted the beds – five of them, two of which were occupied with the couple from the painting. I’d hate to think we had missed someone. I performed the incantation on the couple and left Rory to talk to them.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I was curious to see what Mrs. Brody had done. On the ground floor I could hear someone moving around upstairs. I walked cautiously up the curved staircase, nerves biting at my very core. I had to trust that whatever Mrs. Brody had done, it was enough to keep me safe from Mrs. Hemingway. I followed the sounds to the very same room where she had hung my portrait on the wall.
The room was as dark as I had left it, but I could see her in the corner painting something on the wall.
“Hello?” I called out nervously.
“Hello,” she replied without turning around. “Do you like my painting?”
I couldn’t see it in the gloom so I kicked at the boards at the window. Shafts of sun shone into the room illuminating it for the first time in years. I took in the scene before me and my breath stuck in my throat.
“Did you do all this yourself?” I asked.
The room was filled with the most beautiful painting I’d ever seen. A lush garden in paint filled the walls, the ceiling had been painted to look like a summer sky and she’d even painted flowers all over the floorboards. It was magnificent.
“Do you like it? I get so lonely you know.”
She was an extraordinary artist. Was this Mrs. Brody’s magic or had Mrs. Hemingway always had this talent?
“Did you paint all this in the last few days?” I asked in awe.
“Oh no Dearie. I’ve painted all the rooms on this corridor. This is the last before I move to another floor.”
Was she being serious? I ran into the corridor and pulled out my phone. Turning the flashlight on, I shone it down the corridor. The whole thing had been painted and if possible was even more beautiful than the room I’d just left. The smell of paint filled the air. I touched one wall. It was still sticky.
“River!” I heard Rory call up from downstairs. “Are you ready to go home? I’ve promised Mr and Mrs. Carter a lift home. They live nearby.”
“Sure!” I walked slowly down the stairs, my head filled with the exquisite images I’d just seen.
I couldn’t get them out of my head all the way home and when Mr and Mrs. Carter had been dropped off, I told Rory all about it.
“Don’t tell me you are feeling sorry for her?” said Rory. “After everything she has done. If you haven’t noticed, we are still cleaning up the mess she made. Just because it turns out she in a great artist doesn’t change that.”
“She’s not a great artist, she’s an amazing artist, and I know you are right, but she was lonely. She’s all alone in that house painting in the dark.”
“So?” asked Rory. I guess she had a point. So what? She had brought it on herself. Still, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about leaving her there alone. Not now that she was completely harmless.
When we got back, the others were no closer to finding out where the occupants of the paintings were. Most of them didn’t know, a few refused to say.
“I’m stumped,” said Bailey, throwing her hands up in the air. “We’ve got a few of them to talk. Some refused to go back to their bodies. The ones that did all said the same thing. It was a light room with lots of noise. No other clues.”
I looked at the remaining portraits which had all been brought down to the kitchen. The man with the mop-top hair looked the most modern one of the bunch.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that the ones left are the older ones? All of them look like they were trapped before nineteen seventy judging by the fashions.
“It is kind of odd, but what’s your point?” replied Jane. I wasn’t sure I had a point. I just found it curious.
I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. Seeing Mrs. Hemingway like that had put me on edge. Suddenly I had a flashback to when I was in the portrait. She’d given me a clue and I’d not thought about it before now.
“Mrs. Hemingway said it would be better to stay in my portrait than go to an institution. What if she knew that’s where I’d end up because the others had? Is there a home here in Brimstone Bay? A place where people can be looked after?”
“There’s a residential home out by the sea.” Replied Mrs. Brody. “Up until the eighties it was called t
he Brimstone Bay lunatic asylum. I guess they got all politically correct in the eighties and renamed it a residential home.”
“That’s where they all are!” I jumped up, knocking over the peppermint tea that Rory had just made for herself “Sorry Rory!”
Between us we got the remaining paintings in the car in record time. Jane elected to go his time, giving me a break from rushing around the town. For the first time in days I had nothing to do.
I decided to go up to my room and play with the cats. I’d been woefully neglectful of them for the past few days.
They all seemed happy for my company, even Pippin who seemed to have gotten over his huff with me. When an hour had passed and Jane and Rory still hadn’t called, I decided to call JoAnn. I’d not spoken to her in days and I felt terrible.
“River! I’ve been so worried. I’ve been bugging Jordan, asking how you are getting on. He said you just needed a little time off.
“I’m coming in tomorrow. I think I’ve got a story for you!”
“No, you stay and rest!”
I smiled at her concern. “I’m fine, honest. Thanks for helping me the other day.”
“No problem.”
“See you tomorrow!” I hung up the phone feeling better than I had in days. My idea for a story was inspired. I just needed the other girls’ help. As if they could read my mind, Rory called.
“They are all here. We’ve saved them all. They are all pretty disorientated, and many of them will have to get used to living in the modern world, but I have faith that the staff here will help them as long as they need.”
“That’s great,” I replied, although the news was bittersweet. They would still have to live in the residential home for the foreseeable future. Even then, most of them would have outlived friends and family. I vowed to come up with a plan to help them, but I had another plan I needed help with first. “Can you meet me at Mrs. Hemingway’s house?”
“Uh sure,” She sounded confused at my request.
I hung up and ran downstairs to talk to Bailey and Mrs. Brody.
They both looked at me in shock as I told them my plan but when I told them my reasons, they humored me. Mrs. Brody seemed reluctant to leave Frank, and I was sure I saw her kiss his cheek as we left. I grinned at the thought of it. Mrs. Brody, you sly old devil.