by Dale Young
“Well as old as this house is I’m sure every one of those bottles has a spook inside of it. There’s no telling how many evil spirits have been through here over the years.”
Colby grinned at Logan. “Don’t be a butthead.” He slowly turned his head towards her.
“A what?”
“You heard me, city boy.”
He then walked Colby to her car. Before he let himself overthink it, he put his hands on her cheeks and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. Then he opened her car door for her. At first it seemed like she didn’t want to get in the car but then she stepped around the door and sat down in the seat. Then she looked up at Logan and smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as Logan closed the door.
Logan waved as Colby’s car circled the statue in the driveway. Then he watched as the taillights were swallowed up in the tunnel of trees that led to the main road. He was happy that he had not fumbled the kiss with Colby and was even happier that she had kissed him back. In fact, he was pretty satisfied with the entire evening.
***
With nothing else to do, Logan washed the dishes he and Colby had used, dried them and put them in a rack next to the sink. What was he going to do now? About the only thing he could think of was to go back upstairs and choose a bedroom for the night. There were no televisions in the house so he figured that the only thing left to do was to lock up and turn in. Outside the sun had set and the surrounding fields were dark. The thought of sitting on the back porch for a while crossed his mind but he decided against it. It had been a long day and he needed some rest. He figured he could turn in for the night and think about how nice it would be to see Colby tomorrow at the diner.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was just a slight, gentle peck and he almost didn’t hear it. But when he realized what it was his heart skipped in his chest.
Colby had returned, and she was knocking at the front door.
Logan walked quickly through the foyer, grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open. Colby was nowhere to be seen. Instead, standing on the porch in the dim glow of the porch light was a little girl in an old, tattered dress. She was holding a small yellow flower in her hand.
He was dumbfounded. What was a little girl doing standing on his porch at this hour of the night? And where did she come from?
“Um, well hello there,” Logan said as he looked down at the little girl. Then his eyes scanned the driveway circle in front of the house. There were no cars in the circle other than his. Logan then looked back down at the little girl. Her hair was long and sandy blonde and looked like it had not been combed or washed in several days. Her dress looked homemade and very old. Logan reminded himself that he was not in the city and that country people often made their own clothes, or so he had always heard. After a few seconds he spoke to the little girl again.
“My name is Logan. What’s your name? And where is your mom?”
The little girl didn’t respond. She only looked at Logan while holding the yellow flower in her hand.
Logan had no idea what to do. He knew not to invite the little girl into his house but he also didn’t want to just shut the door in her face. How did she manage to end up on his porch at this hour of the night? Even in broad daylight it would be strange for a child of her age to show up on his porch without a parent.
“Can I help you, sweetie? Are you selling cookies or something? It’s kind of late to be doing that. You can come back tomorrow if you want to…”
Suddenly the little girl raised her hand towards Logan like she was trying to hand him the flower. He looked down at the flower but before he could reach out to take it, the little girl dropped it onto the porch floor. She giggled slightly, then turned and ran down the porch stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and ran past the bottle tree and around the corner of the house towards the backyard.
“Hey! Wait a minute! Don’t go back there!” Logan yelled at the little girl but she ignored him and disappeared into the darkness. Logan quickly ran down the porch stairs and followed the route the little girl had taken. When he reached the corner of the house he stopped and looked out into the moonlit tobacco field.
“Hey! Come back! You can’t be out there in my fields!” Logan knew the little girl couldn’t hear him and even if she could it was obvious she wasn’t going to obey his commands. Flustered, he ran down the side of the house until he was standing in the backyard. He could see the looming hulks of the tobacco barns lined up in a row down the edge of the field.
In the distance, Logan could barely make out the little girl as she continued on through the fields between the rows of tobacco plants. If it weren’t for the rising moon he would not have been able to see her at all.
“What the fuck?” Logan said, exasperated. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Where the fuck is she going?”
He moved down to the edge of the tobacco field. He scanned down the rows to the far tree line but could no longer see the little girl. In the distance he could see the a small opening in the tree line revealing the bank of the Skeleton River, the still water glowing silver in the moonlight. Unable to figure out what to do, he put his hands on his hips and exhaled sharply.
The little girl was gone.
“The McPhales…” Logan whispered to himself. Maybe she was a McPhale and they had put her up to coming over to his house. If so, they really were as stupid as Harmon said they were. Logan tried to force his mind to accept this theory, but the more he thought about it the less likely it seemed that anyone, even a crazy family like the McPhales would send a child over to a stranger’s house after dark. Then he remembered that Harmon had said there were only the two McPhale brothers. He hadn’t mentioned any younger children.
“Whatever…” Logan said has he scanned the field one more time. He knew there was no way he was going out into the fields to look for the little girl. Whoever she was, she was gone and he knew it would be a waste of time to look for her.
Logan turned and walked through his backyard and around the house to the front porch. When he walked up the steps he saw that the flower the little girl had dropped was gone. He paused under the porch light and looked around him but there was no sign of the flower. Then he looked over at the bottle tree sitting still in the moonlight. After a few more seconds he walked back into the house and locked the door behind him. Then he checked the back door. He turned and began to walk through the kitchen but stopped after a few steps. He returned the backdoor, unlocked it and walked out onto the large back porch. He moved slowly in the darkness until he was at the handrail that bordered the porch. One more time he let his eyes scan the expansive tobacco field stretching to the far tree line. There was no sign of the little girl.
“That’s it. I give up, little girl. I don’t know who you are or where you came from but you’re on your own.”
He then returned to the kitchen and locked the backdoor as he went. Then he climbed the stairs to find a bedroom for the night.
He had retrieved his bags from his car earlier and had everything he needed to settle in for the night. He was ready for the day to be over and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed and go to sleep.
Logan wanted to fall asleep quickly, dream about Colby, and wake up refreshed and ready for another day. But little did he know the night ahead of him would be one of the longest nights of his life.
15
Logan chose the largest bedroom on the second floor of the house. The room contained a four post bed, a large dresser and a nightstand. A very ornate crystal lamp sat on the nightstand. The bedroom even had a fireplace and above it hung another very large portrait of Rosemary.
On the dresser sat a large doll with a porcelain head. The head looked just like the ones Logan and Colby had seen earlier. But the doll was still intact and had not suffered the same fate as the ones whose heads were now in a pile on the attic floor. Logan thought this was amusing, even though the sig
ht of the doll sitting on the dresser unnerved him more than he wanted to admit to himself. He shook it off and put the thought out of his mind as he walked across the bedroom while the doll sat motionless on the dresser, its colorful dress contrasting against the dark walnut finish of the wood.
He placed his bags on the bed and removed his shaving kit from one of them. He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder once again at the doll and quickly chided himself for letting something so harmless get to him. The thought of walking over and putting the doll in one of the drawers suddenly felt like a good idea, but Logan knew he was just being childish. Finally he put the doll out of his mind while trying to concentrate on his bags.
Logan took his shaving kit into the adjoining bathroom. It had been a long day and when he saw the large shower in the corner of the bathroom he immediately decided that a hot shower would be the perfect thing to help him relax for the night.
He grabbed his soap from his shaving kit and sat it on the edge of the sink. The shower was large and appeared to be more modern than the rest of the bathroom. Logan figured it had been added later, most likely after Rosemary had gotten tired of climbing in and out of the claw-footed tub that was sitting in the opposite corner of the bathroom. The only thing Logan didn’t like about the shower was the large curtain pulled across it. He hated closed shower curtains. It was just a childhood fear that he had never been able to shake.
The hot water brought welcome relief as it ran down his back. After a few minutes, the steam in the bathroom began to fog the mirror over the sink. Logan was almost in a trance enjoying the hot water when he heard something crash to the floor outside of the shower.
He quickly pulled the shower curtain to the side and looked out through the steam in the bathroom. His shaving kit was lying on the floor in front of the sink. He felt a wave of relief wash over him. He closed his eyes and pulled the shower curtain closed and resumed his shower. After about ten minutes he finished up and then grabbed a towel from the small shelf on the wall next to the shower above the toilet.
Wrapped in his towel, Logan walked through the steamy bathroom until he was in front of the sink. Through the haze he looked into the mirror fogged up from the steam.
The words I’m sorry were scribbled into the film of water vapor covering the mirror.
He quickly turned and looked behind him. The bathroom was filled with water vapor but he could see through it into the bedroom. He put his hand on the towel to keep it from falling and walked quickly to the door that led to the bedroom. Then he stepped through the door into the bedroom and felt an instant chill from the difference in temperature. He looked around the bedroom and then walked back into the bathroom. He looked at the mirror again but the words were gone.
“So this is how it’s gonna be,” Logan said as he bowed his head and looked down into the sink. Then he looked back up at the mirror before wiping it clean with his hand. “Next it will be a real ghost and not just words on the mirror.”
Logan tried to calm his nerves and then began to doubt whether he had actually seen the words on the mirror or if it had just been his imagination. He removed his toothbrush and toothpaste and then brushed his teeth. When he was finished he looked into the mirror one more time and realized from his reflection how tired he was from the long day.
Wrapped in his towel, Logan walked into the bedroom and pulled out an old T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts from his bag. Then he climbed into bed and turned out the lamp on the nightstand. He didn’t have a book to read so he decided to just try and go to sleep.
Logan wanted to think about Colby and the time he had spent with her earlier in the evening. He wanted to envision his hands on her body as they made slow and passionate love. But images of the things in the attic kept coming to his mind. The old portraits, the doll heads, the antique trunk. It was all right above him in the attic. Every time tried to conjure an image of Colby and fantasize about making love to her, the people in the old portraits would flash through his mind. Who were they? Was he related to them? Had they lived in the house, or perhaps worked in the Shaw Fields?
Then Logan thought about the little girl on the porch. What had that been all about? Who was she, and what was she doing on his porch at such an hour? Where were her parents?
And then the words in the mirror… Had he actually seen them or not?
Despite all the questions and images marching through his mind, it wasn’t long before exhaustion overtook Logan and he finally drifted off to sleep.
***
Sometime after midnight Logan woke up to go to the bathroom. The house was still and quiet and the creaking of the floorboards under his feet as he walked to the bathroom seemed louder than normal. After he finished he returned to the bed and crawled back under the sheets. He rolled over onto his side with his back to the door of the bedroom. Once again the house fell silent. There wasn’t even any noise coming from outside. No wind, no approaching storm, nothing to make any noise. Logan could not remember ever hearing a night as quiet as this. Back in his trailer the constant drone of noise from the shipping port made the nights anything but quiet and peaceful. But now he was experiencing his first night in the country, and the silence was disturbing.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there when he heard the first hint of a sound. It seemed to be coming from the other end of the hallway, near the door that led to the attic. Slowly, Logan rolled over until he could see the door of the bedroom. Was he hearing things? Or was the sound real.
Time seemed to stand still. Logan knew that what he was hearing was real. It was the sound of someone walking down the hall. Slow, deliberate steps one after the other. They were gentle steps, to the point where it made it seem as if whoever it was coming down the hall was trying to do it in the quietest manner possible.
Logan wanted to bolt out of the bed, turn on the light and find something to defend himself with. Anything would do. Perhaps he could use one of the andirons by the fireplace. He knew he could certainly use one of them to teach someone a lesson about breaking into his house. But instead of jumping out of the bed, Logan stayed still under the blankets, as if they afforded him some sort of protection from the approaching intruder.
Just when it seemed that whoever was out in the hall was about to arrive at his bedroom door, the sounds stopped. For several seconds, seconds that seemed to last for an eternity, there was no sound at all coming from the hallway.
The moonlight streaming in from a crack in the window drapes was just bright enough to cast a line of silvery light through the middle of the bedroom. Logan kept his eyes glued to the black rectangle that led out into the hallway. Just as he was about to resign himself to the fact that he had probably just been hearing things, he heard another slight sound come from the hallway. It was the sound of a floorboard creaking under the weight of someone standing just outside of bedroom door.
Logan felt the blood flare in his veins. Then a cold shiver rocketed up his spine as the intruder stepped into the doorway.
Standing in the doorway was the little girl that had been on his porch earlier in the evening. In the dim glow of the moonlight coming in from the window, Logan could once again see the small flower in her hand.
A wave of terror washed over Logan as he looked into the little girl’s face. The fight or flight mechanism was raging inside his body. Just then he threw back the covers and reached for the lamp on the nightstand, almost knocking it over in the process. He managed to grasp the small knob under the shade and fumble with it until he finally twisted it in the right direction to turn on the light.
He squinted under the glare of the lamp as he tried to adjust his eyes and focus on the doorway. When his eyes finally adjusted he saw that the little girl was gone.
Gasping for breath and trying to calm his pounding heart, Logan buried his face in his hands. After a few seconds, he realized that something felt wrong about the room. He kept his hands over his face but spread his fingers enough to be able to see through them to t
he dresser across the room. He felt every nerve ending in his body ignite as he focused on the doll sitting on the dresser. The doll’s head was turned in his direction.
Logan closed his fingers over his face and took another deep breath. Then he opened his fingers again and looked at the doll. This time its head was facing forward like it had been when he had first climbed into bed.
“Any damn day you wanna wake up, Logan. Enough of this fucking nightmare. That’s what it is… A fucking nightmare. I must be asleep. I have to be asleep.”
After a few minutes, Logan slowly turned his body until his feet came out from underneath the blanket. He slowly lowered his feet until they touched the cool wood of the floor. Then he got out of bed and slowly crept over to the bedroom door. He had to have a look down the hallway. He knew there was no way he was going back to bed until he looked down the hallway and proved to himself that it was empty, and that the sight of the little girl had been just what he thought it had been – a nightmare.
He swallowed hard as he put his hand on the doorframe. Then he slowly moved until his head was close to his hand. In one quick move he stuck his head into the hallway and looked towards the attic door on the other end. The hallway was dark, but he could make out the lines of the attic door as it sat closed on the opposite end of the hallway from his bedroom.
A quick exhale brought relief, but then Logan thought about the porcelain doll. He quickly turned his head in the direction of the dresser but the doll was just as it was the last time he had looked at it. It was still staring blankly across the room in the direction of the bathroom.
Logan felt his nerves beginning to calm. Maybe he was sleepwalking, maybe he was dreaming, he had no idea. Surrendering to his earlier impulse, he walked over to the dresser, opened the top drawer and then dropped the doll into the drawer. Then he slammed the drawer shut.
Once back in bed, it was over an hour before Logan fell back asleep and when he did it was a shallow and fitful sleep laced with dreams about working in the tobacco fields in the blazing sun. In the dreams he was a laborer using primitive hand tools to cut the tobacco stalks. In another dream he was between two rows of tobacco plants and as he looked down one of the rows he could see children pulling worms from the tobacco leaves before depositing them in cans hung by strings looped around their necks.