Ghost Light

by Hautala, Rick

  “Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart,” Cindy whispered as the sadness clutched tightly around her heart, almost stopping her breath. “Enjoy it while you can…”

  4

  Throughout supper and into the early evening, Cindy found it difficult to pretend that everything was normal. She was feeling unaccountably nervous and edgy, and she was convinced that both kids had picked up on it but weren’t saying anything because they didn’t want to get yelled at. Around eight o’clock, she was in the bathroom, trying to get Krissy to brush her teeth before bed, when the telephone rang. The sudden sound made her jump and squeal with surprise. She knocked the tube of toothpaste onto the floor as she turned and ran down the hallway to the kitchen to answer it. When she picked up the receiver and said “Hello,” for several seconds there was no answer from the other end of the line. Then, very faintly, she heard—at least she thought she heard the soft, chuffing sound of repressed laughter.

  “Hello?” Cindy said. Her hand tightened painfully around the receiver. “Who is this?” she demanded.

  Her own voice sounded curiously flat in the phone, but she heard nothing but dead silence at the other end of the line. She listened a few seconds longer, then, shaking inside, she gently replaced the receiver. Before she could turn and start back to the bathroom, though, the phone started ringing again. She hurt her hand when she snatched up the receiver, pressed it to her ear, and shouted, “Hello!”

  She waited for the other person to say something, but again there was only a dead, hollow silence at the other end of the line. She strained to hear another dry rattle of laughter, but it never came.

  “Look,” she said, trying to keep her voice low and edged with authority to hide the trembling. “I have no idea what you think you’re doing, but if you’ve got the wrong number or if you’re not going to say anything, I wish you’d stop pestering me.”

  She was holding the receiver close to her ear and couldn’t repress the shiver that went through her when she heard the person at the other end of the line take a slow, deep breath. It sounded frighteningly close to her, almost as though this person were standing right there in the room beside her.

  “Are—are you going to say anything?” Cindy said.

  She waited, but still there was no response.

  “Look, you—ah, you’ve probably got a wrong number,” she said, trying her damndest not to sound as nervous as she felt. “But if you call this number one more time tonight, I’m going to report you to the phone company and have your calls traced.” She waited for a response that never came. “You know, you can get into a lot of trouble harassing people over the telephone like this.”

  She didn’t dare wait to hear if the person was going to say anything, so she hung up quickly. Before she headed back to the bathroom to help Knssy finish up, she lifted the receiver and placed it on top of the phone. After waiting to hear the beginning of the taped message, “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and dial again…” she left the kitchen, telling herself to put the incident out of her mind. It was just someone, probably a kid, making prank calls.

  Before she was three steps down the hail, her headache, which had eased up a little after two glasses of wine with supper, came back with a throbbing pulse that staggered her and made her close her eyes and grab at the wail for support. Shaking her head as though dazed, she entered the bathroom. The sudden flood of bright light only made her headache worse. She tried to act as though nothing was the matter as she took Krissy’s toothbrush and gave her teeth a quick once-over, but she was curt with both Krissy and Billy once it was time to send them to bed. She finally lost her patience and started yelling when Billy told her that he wasn’t very tired and that he might just as well stay up and watch a movie or something. She pointed angrily at his bedroom door and sent him to bed without another word, and he had the sense not to argue with her.

  After that, she turned off all the lights in the apartment, went into the living room, and sat down on the couch. She was feeling overwhelmed with guilt. Yelling at the kids was something she had never done before… at least not until the last few days, but tonight she had been so mad, especially at Billy, that she had been just about ready to slap him.

  What the hell’s the matter with me? she wondered.

  Closing her eyes and covering them with both hands, she leaned her head against the couch and stared at the swirling darkness. Every time she shifted her weight, the rusty springs inside the couch would make a slow, groaning creak.

  She was trying to convince herself that she was overreacting to all of the pressure she and the kids had been under lately, but that didn’t negate the twisting guilt she felt for yelling at Billy and sending him off to bed, nearly in tears. She felt absolutely rotten, a complete failure as a parent.

  No, make that PSEUDO-parent! she thought bitterly, shaking her head and fighting back a hot rush of tears. I’ll never be anything even close to a REAL parent for either of those kids!

  She lost track of the time as she sat there in the darkened living room, stewing in her misery and guilt, so she wasn’t exactly sure when she became aware of the voice that was vibrating softly in the darkened apartment. Tensing suddenly, she sat straight up. Her eyes were wide open and staring as she leaned forward, straining to hear if the voice was real or only her imagination. The soft, blue glow of the streetlight from outside cast an eerie haze into the room. The air seemed thick, almost as if the room were filled with thin rafts of smoke. As soon as Cindy tried to focus on the sound, it dropped down, fading away almost to nothing. The darkness of the apartment tightened around her. She let out a little gasp and, shifting forward, was about to stand up when the sound came to her again, fluttering just at the edge of hearing.

  “What the…?” she whispered.

  She cocked her head trying to get a fix on the source of the sound, but it seemed to be coming at her from several directions at once. It sounded like someone talking, she had no doubt about that, but when she told herself it must be a TV or sounds from one of the downstairs apartments, she immediately dismissed the idea.

  This sounded too close, too real to be coming from another apartment. She wished to hell she could hear what it was saying, but it remained an indistinct buzzing that made her think of the sound a fly or bee would make, trapped between closed windows.

  Cold, winding tension raced up and down Cindy’s back when she thought that the voice— Was it really a voice?—seemed almost to be a part of the soft darkness that surrounded her. She glanced around uneasily, her mouth and throat working to contain the scream she felt building up inside her. She had no idea what she expected to see, but she resisted the strong urge to get up and turn on the lights.

  She couldn’t move.

  She didn’t dare.

  At times, the voice seemed almost as though it was someone speaking in another language, but it was impossible to tell what it was saying. Like the soft flutter of bird’s wings in her ears, it continued to tease her, pulsing lightly in the darkness.

  “Aunt Cindy?… Aunt Cindy!… Could you come here?”

  Cindy immediately recognized Krissy’s voice, and the winding, terrified tone she heard in it instantly galvanized her. Leaping to her feet, she ran down the darkened hallway to the little girl’s bedroom and threw open the door. For a fleeting instant she saw a wavering, blue glow by the window, but it instantly faded as her eyes tried to adjust to the light in the room.

  “Yeah, what is it, Squirt?” Cindy said in a high, frightened voice. She felt dizzy, a little bit disoriented by her sudden activity. In a single, panicky instant, she realized that Krissy’s bed was empty.

  “Krissy?” she called out, her voice sharp with panic.

  “I’m over here,” Krissy replied.

  It took Cindy’s eyes another moment to adjust to the darkness in the room before she saw the little girl, standing beside her window. Her body seemed to blend in with the hazy gauze of the curtain, which glowed a dull blue from the light coming in
from outside.

  “What’s the matter?” Cindy asked.

  She was tempted to turn on the ceiling light but didn’t want to hurt her or Krissy’s eyes.

  “He’s out there again,” Krissy said in a low, flat monotone.

  Who is? Cindy thought, but she didn’t have to ask as she moved swiftly over to the window and, resting one hand on Krissy’s shoulder, pulled the curtain aside and looked out into the night. Down on the street, parked a little bit past the streetlight, was a white van. The sight of it sent chills through Cindy.

  “Has he been there very long?” Cindy asked, giving Krissy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She stared at the van’s window, which looked as black as slate, but couldn’t tell if there was someone sitting in there or not.

  She felt Krissy shrug.

  “I dunno,” Krissy said. “I … I just got up a second ago and… and looked outside and saw him.”

  “Were you asleep?”

  Cindy glanced at Krissy and saw that she was nodding her head slowly up and down. Her eyes were wide open and glistening, and her mouth was set in a thin, hard line. Cindy was unnerved by how thin and pale, almost ghost-like Krissy looked.

  “Yeah,” Krissy said in a breathy whisper. “She woke me—I mean, I woke up and I… and I just looked outside and saw him.”

  “And that’s the same van that you said was following you the other day, right?”

  Again, Krissy nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”

  Cindy could feel the little girl’s body tensing beneath her touch. Her own breath was fast and raw in her throat as she stared down at the motionless van. Unaccountably, she felt a dim spark of recognition.

  Whose van is that? Where have I seen it before? she wondered.

  Winding tension filled her as she sifted for a memory that she was suddenly convinced was buried somewhere in her mind. It couldn’t be just the power of suggestion or her fear for Krissy that was making the van seem so familiar; there was something about it… She had seen it somewhere before…

  Sensing the apprehension and fear inside Krissy suddenly strengthened Cindy’s resolve.

  “Well, goddamnit, we’re not just .going to stay up here, wondering what the hell’s going on!” she said with a snarl. She gave Krissy’s shoulder a bracing shake. “I’m going to find out what the hell is going on! You wait here, and keep an eye out for me, okay?”

  Before Krissy could respond, Cindy turned and strode out of the bedroom. She went quickly down the hall to the living room, and threw the front door wide open. A single, uncovered light bulb in the hallway cast a thin wash of yellow light, lighting her way as she stomped down the stairs to the front entryway. With every step, her anger and resolve grew until she thought, if there really were someone sitting out there in the van, whether or not they were watching her apartment, she was going to fling their door open and ask them just what the hell they thought they were doing out here. Without a pause, she unbolted the front door and stepped out onto the steps. The chilled night air turned her breath into a misty fog that curled over her shoulder like a scarf as she went down the steps and crossed the lawn to the sidewalk. Looking up, she drew to an abrupt halt.

  “What the hell—?” she muttered. The van was gone. Cindy stared in stunned amazement at the empty street. The cone of light from the streetlight seemed much brighter. It cast a harsh glare onto the deserted street that throbbed with the heavy pulse in her head.

  The tension wound up inside her as she ran out into the middle of the street and looked down toward Forest Avenue, the direction the van had been aimed. There wasn’t a trace of the van, not even a trailing wisp of exhaust. Cindy paused and listened, trying to hear the receding sound of the van’s engine, but everything was eerily silent except for the soft sigh of a night breeze.

  “What the goddamned hell?” she said, shivering wildly and hugging herself.

  She couldn’t deny the almost overpowering impression that the van had never even been there. She wondered if she and Krissy had imagined seeing it. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked up at the building, washed with the blue glow of the streetlight. Very faintly, she could see the silhouette of Krissy, who was still standing in the darkened window. Cindy raised her hand and waved to her, then, with a shrug, turned to look helplessly down the street once again.

  How could he have gotten away so quickly, she wondered. She was boiling with anger. Her fists were clenched so tightly they began to hurt. But it’s a goddamned good thing you didn’t stick around, ’cause if you had, I would’ve ripped that goddamned door right off your goddamned van!

  She stood in the middle of the street a few seconds longer, but then the penetrating chill of the night air drove her back into the building. As she started up the stairs to the apartment, a new worry suddenly struck her: But now, what if he knows that I know he’s watching us?

  The thought made her whimper with repressed fear.

  She paused halfway up the stairs, but as much as she tried to push it away, the thought became an incessant chant inside her mind.

  Somebody’s watching us!… Somebody’s watching us!

  By the time she was back inside the apartment and had the door safely bolted behind her, she had made up her mind. They were going to have to leave… now!

  5

  “Whaa… whozit?”

  The voice coming through the closed door was faint and crusty with sleep. Cindy leaned close to the door and spoke slowly, although it was an effort to keep the panicky edge out of her voice.

  “Hey, Alice… It’s me, Cindy.”

  “What the hell?” Alice said. She sounded sleepy and genuinely confused. Through the door, Cindy could hear her as she fumbled to open the deadbolt lock. The latch finally clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Alice, dressed in her tattered bathrobe and slouched over like a hunchback. Her curly, dark hair was a rat’s nest of tangles. She smacked her lips wetly as she rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on Cindy’s face. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “I know—I know” Cindy replied shakily.

  “Well, I hope, for your sake, that the goddamned apartment building’s on fire or something.”

  “No, I … I need your help.”

  “What is it? What can I do for you?”

  “We have to leave,” Cindy said without preamble. There was still a keen edge to her voice, but Alice, torn from sleep, seemed unable to respond to it.

  “Whad’da’yah mean, we? D’you mean you and me? Who? Is the building really on fire, or what?”

  A panicked expression flashed across Alice’s face, but Cindy quickly shook her head in denial as Alice stepped aside so she could enter the apartment.

  “No, no,” she said, “it’s nothing like that. Leave the door open, will you?”

  Alice nodded, “So…? Tell me what’s up.”

  “I—well, you know I told you about our situation—you know, about me and my sister’s kids…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Alice said, nodding sleepily but sounding impatient. She seemed to be making a valiant effort to come awake, but it just wasn’t working. She glanced at her wrist watch, sighed, and shook her head.

  “Well, I think—I’m pretty sure that someone’s been watching us.”

  “You mean you… and the kids.”

  “Yeah.” Cindy nodded her head. “For the last few nights, there’s been a white van parked outside the building, and I—I’m pretty sure someone broke into my apartment yesterday.”

  “What? Is anything missing?” Alice said. She suddenly looked a lot more awake at the mention of a break-in. With a quick hand gesture, Cindy reassured her that she and the kids were all right.

  “No, everything’s okay, it’s just that… I dunno, it seems like stuff had been messed around with, you know? And the kids won’t admit to it. It’s little things, like things falling apart and some stuff has been shifted around, all messed up. Nothing valuable is missing.”

  “Yeah, so what are you gonna do?”

  Before Ci
ndy could reply, Alice turned and walked into the kitchen. Without asking if Cindy wanted any, she started making a pot of coffee. Cindy followed her into the kitchen, but she made sure she positioned herself so she could still see through Alice’s opened apartment door to her own door across the hall. It was locked, and she had the key in her jeans pocket, but she didn’t feel at all secure.

  “Well, I hate to say it, but I think the kids and I are gonna have to leave… at least for a little while,” Cindy said. She felt increasingly frustrated as she watched Alice as she slowly, deliberately measured coffee and poured cold water into the coffee maker. She wanted her to shove everything aside, wake all the way up, and listen to what she had to say. Maybe Alice would have a better idea of what she should do.

  “Well,” Alice said, dragging her voice. “I mean, don’t you think you’re overreacting? Maybe just a little bit?”

  Cindy shook her head firmly.

  “I don’t think so. That same white van’s been parked out there for several nights, now. Krissy was the first one to notice it, but I—”

  She suddenly jerked her head back and snapped her fingers. Her mouth tightened into a thin line.

  “Oh, my God, that’s it!” she said in a voice that was low and raspy, and almost broke. Vague traces of a half-forgotten memory suddenly rushed into her mind.

  “Huh? What’s it?”

  Alice had switched on the coffee maker, and the water was sputtering as it dripped into the carafe. “That van,” Cindy said.

  “Are you sure it doesn’t belong to someone who lives on the street?” Alice asked. “I mean, that would make the most sense, don’t you think?”

  “No, no, I saw it once before, too… on that day—”

  “Wait a second. You’re losing me here, Cindy.”

  Alice regarded her with genuine expression of concern in her eyes, but Cindy leaned forward and started massaging her forehead. She had to take a deep breath before she was able to speak again.