by Dale Young
When Logan reached the side of the bed he studied the small outline of the person lying under the covers. Whoever it was had pulled the covers over their head to the point where all Logan could see was the very top of their head. He reached over and slowly pulled the blanket back until he could see the face of a little girl. She was holding a doll close to her face and appeared to be sound asleep.
Logan looked at the little girl and then at the doll. It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to realize that he had seen the doll before. It was the one he and Colby had found in the trunk in the attic. The blank cloth of the doll’s face contrasted with the face of the little girl.
Suddenly the little girl’s eyes opened. Logan gasped and stepped backwards when she looked into his eyes. Then she pulled her doll closer to her in an effort to hide her face from Logan. She seemed to be afraid that he was going to hurt her.
He stepped backwards a few more feet as he stared down at the little girl. Suddenly a voice filled his ears.
“Logan?”
He turned to see Colby standing in the doorway to the bedroom. She was rubbing one of her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
Logan looked back at the bed, which was now made up and looked as if no one had slept in it in years. Then he looked back at Colby.
“I…”
“Are you okay?” Colby said, a note of apprehension in her voice.
“I guess…” Logan paused and looked back at the bed. “I guess I’m sleepwalking.”
“You’re not sleepwalking,” Colby said. “Maybe you were, but you’re awake now. Let’s go back to bed.”
Logan looked at Colby and then back at the bed one more time. Tomorrow he would tell her all about what he had seen, but now was not the time. Then he thought about the welt on his chest. What would Colby think about that? How would he explain it? Just then he brought his hand up to his chest to feel for the welt but when his hand touched his chest the welt was gone. Confused, he paused for a moment while looking down at his chest. With only the moonlight coming in from the window it was hard to see clearly but he could still tell that the welt was gone.
“What the matter?” Colby said as she watched Logan run his hand around his chest like he was trying to feel for something.
“Uh, nothing. Never mind. Let’s go to bed.”
They walked back down the hallway to the master bedroom. Then they climbed back into bed. Logan was on his back and Colby laid her head on his chest and within minutes was fast asleep.
For Logan Shaw the rest of the night was a combination of lying in bed wide awake or in a shallow state of fitful sleep. As he laid there in the bed he thought about the house and how it now belonged to him. But something was wrong with it. He had no doubt about this whatsoever now. And Logan realized that he not only owned the house, but apparently everything from its past as well.
Logan finally drifted off to sleep. When he woke up the clock said 9:32 am. He turned his head and looked next to him but Colby was gone. On her pillow was a note. He picked it up and read the handwriting.
Logan, I had to go to work. Come see me later.
Then he read the next line and felt a smile cross his tired face.
I love you. Colby.
21
Harmon Blackwell was sitting in his office when Logan walked through the door.
“Sandy said I could come on back, Harmon. We need to talk.”
He leaned back in his chair. He had expected Logan to come in this morning. He knew that Logan had now spent several nights in the old house and by now had no doubt realized that everything is not as it seems with the place.
“Good morning, Logan.” Harmon then reached into his desk drawer and produced his bottle of whiskey. “Drink?”
“No thanks.” Logan closed the door to the office and then sat down across from Harmon.
“Suit yourself,” Harmon said as he poured whiskey into his empty coffee cup. Then he turned up the cup and took a healthy swig. Logan watched as the old man winced as the whiskey went down his throat.
“So I inherited a fucking haunted house, Harmon.” Logan paused. “Haunted is not a big enough word to tell you the truth.”
“No it’s not, Logan. Not nearly big enough. And yes, the house has its… its past. It has a history, I should say.”
“I’ll say it does,” Logan snapped. “I can look out of the windows and night and see back a hundred years. I saw my great-grandmother hang herself in the attic, there’s a little girl that wanders the hallways at night, and last night a man whipped me across the chest with a leather belt. Not to mention someone was sleeping in one of the other bedrooms. So yeah, the house obviously has a past. But you didn’t tell me that past would come for a visit every night.”
Harmon took another pull of whiskey and looked at Logan. Then he took another swig and emptied the cup.
“I’m sorry, Logan.” Harmon cleared his throat. “But look at the bright side. The house might have a history but it also comes with five million dollars. That’s gotta take the edge off.”
“Like that whiskey takes the edge off?” Logan said as he looked at Harmon’s coffee cup.
“Exactly. I’d rather have the five million to tell you the truth. I’ll trade you the whiskey for it.”
“Sure. But you have to live in the house. Do we have a deal?”
“No thanks,” Harmon said quickly as he reached for the whiskey bottle. He poured another shot into his cup as he felt the warmth starting to spread through his body. He had been dreading this conversation with Logan since meeting him.
He leveled his eyes on Logan. “Don’t go in the damn fields at night, Logan. Especially when the harvest moon comes this week. We never know when the next murder will happen, but the last one was almost twenty years ago. If I were a betting man I’d say we’re due. I’m telling you right now that you’re a dead man if you go out there under a harvest moon. There won’t be a piece of you left bigger than a shot glass if the killer gets hold of you.”
“I know about the fields. You told me all about that and so did Colby. It’s the house I want to know about now.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes… The house.” Harmon paused and then reached for his pipe. He lit it and puffed until his head was surrounded by a cloud of blue smoke.
“Well?” Logan said. He was growing impatient with Harmon. He could tell the old man was stalling.
Harmon gave Logan a serious look. “Logan, originally that land was worked by slaves. I told you a little about that already. That’s probably where the problem started. Hell, if I had been one of those slaves and forced to work the fields you can bet your bottom lip that I’d be rattling chains in the attic.”
“I haven’t seen the ghost of any slaves or heard any chains in the attic. What I did see when I looked out the windows last night was something that looked like a scene out of the Great Depression. And Colby and I found some old photos in the attic. The people in the photos were dressed like the people I saw out in the field through the window. Very old, like Grapes of Wrath old, or something like that.”
“Children?” Harmon said as he raised an eyebrow.
Logan paused for a few seconds. “Yes. When I looked out of the window I saw children working the fields. Why?”
“And you said a little girl wanders the halls at night?”
“Yes, Harmon. And she looks like she lived a hundred years ago. So what gives?”
Harmon paused for a few minutes. He knew if he drank any more whiskey that he would lose control of his tongue so he puffed on his pipe instead. The nicotine was almost as soothing as the alcohol.
“Logan, Rosemary has lived in that house since she was a little girl. She inherited it from her parents when she was older. After they passed, I should say.”
He leaned back in the chair. He knew he was finally going to get some answers to what was going on in the house.
“I became friends with Rosemary a few years after Carson died. I was a young col
lege kid and needed money for school so I worked on things around her house for her during the summers. We became friends. The money I earned helped with law school. She paid very well, Logan, much more than my services warranted. She knew I was paying my way through school and I guess she just wanted to help me. And I think she wanted company in the house. When I graduated and came back to Starlight and started this firm she was my first client.”
“I’ve heard that she was more than a client. What age would she have been around that time? About forty or so?” When Logan said this he saw a flash of guilt on Harmon’s face.
“Well… That’s neither here nor there, Logan.”
“I could care less to tell you the truth, Harmon. But if you were Rosemary’s yard boy and then her lawyer, and if you, well, spent a few nights in her house then I’m sure you knew what was going on.”
“I’ve seen some of the very things that you have seen, Logan. That little girl… I woke up one night and she was standing beside the bed. And I’ve seen scenes from the past through the windows just like you did. I once saw slaves working the fields. And one night I even saw Union soldiers passing close to the house. Rosemary didn’t like to be in the house alone. I’ve spent many a night in that house Logan, and I don’t think I ever got a wink of sleep. And not for reasons you might expect. I don’t know how anyone can sleep in that house to tell you the truth.”
“And you didn’t tell me this when we first met? What the fuck, Harmon?”
“And how would that conversation have went, Logan? It was hard enough to tell you about the harvest moon killings. I guess I could have said, hey by the way, spirits walk the halls of the house at night and if you look out of the windows you’ll be able to see back in time. Come on, Logan. You would have bolted for the door and the house would now be sitting empty.”
“So do you know about the things in the attic? Those photos I told you about, do you have any idea who the people are?”
He picked up his empty coffee cup and looked into it. He frowned and put it back down on his desk.
“You need to join AA Harmon, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Harmon laughed. “What I need Logan is a cold grave to crawl into. I’m old and things weigh heavy on me. The whiskey helps. It will get me through until I take my last breath.”
Logan felt bad for telling Harmon he drank too much. It was none of his business and who was he to judge Harmon? There was no telling what burden the old man was carrying around with him. And besides, Logan knew he had a bottle just like Harmon’s back in his desk in Wilmington.
“So who are the people in the photos?” Logan asked.
“Probably Rosemary’s parents,” replied Harmon.
“What?” Logan snapped. “You mean my great-great grandparents?”
Harmon cleared his throat. “That’s what I would call them, but Rosemary was always vague about that. She always referred to them as the previous owners of the house. And she got angry every time I tried to talk to her about her childhood and her parents. It’s almost like she didn’t want to admit they were her parents. I never could understand it and I never could get much out of her about it. And I doubt there’s anyone alive in town that knows more than that either. That was a long time ago. And really, what damn difference does it make? You own the house now free and clear and I have all the paperwork to prove it.”
Logan thought about this for a minute. He was angry at Harmon but then his anger began to subside. Harmon was right, what difference did it make? Logan decided to let it go and continue with his questions about the photos.
“One photo was of two adults and a child.” Logan said as he leaned back in his chair and tried to calm his nerves.
“I have no idea, Logan. If the child wasn’t Rosemary then I have no idea who it was,” Harmon said as he felt the nicotine wind through his bloodstream. “I heard a story once that a child had died in the house but I never could find out much about it.”
***
Colby was wrapping silverware in napkins just as the last customer left the diner. The lunch rush, if it could be called a rush, was over and she was eager to finish her shift and go see Logan. She couldn’t understand why he had not come by the diner for lunch but then she figured that he was probably at Harmon’s office finishing the details of his new inheritance. She felt a pang of sadness in her heart but she knew that he would have come by to see her if he had been able to. But now that her shift was almost over she knew she could finish up her side work with the silverware and then be off for the rest of the day. After that, she wasn’t due back at the diner until tomorrow morning.
The only trouble at lunch had come from visit from Chip McPhale. Colby shuddered as she remembered the mark on the side of Chip’s face from where he had been hit by Logan with the two by four.
Colby thought about how Chip had simply walked into the diner and sat down at the bar. He ordered from another waitress and did not speak a word to her the entire time he was in the diner. But he had watched every move she made while he ate his lunch, and Colby remembered how it had chilled her down to her bones as his eyes followed her. A few times when they had made eye contact, Colby had to look away after Chip gave her his characteristic grin. It was a cross between a grin and a smirk and it said to Colby that he knew that Logan had gotten the best of him at the old train station but that he would not stop until he had himself a healthy dose of payback.
The worst part of the lunch rush was when Chip had gotten up to leave. He tipped his hat at Colby and gave her a wink while silently mouthing the words see you later as he walked past her standing behind the counter near the cash register. She knew Chip McPhale, and she knew that he wasn’t kidding.
Colby tried to clear her thoughts of Chip as she walked to her car. It felt good to be out of her waitress uniform and in a pair of shorts and her favorite button-up shirt. She didn’t like changing in the diner’s restroom but it was easier than going back to her apartment. She had parked in the rear of the diner with several of the other employees and even though it was broad daylight she felt uneasy walking down the sidewalk to the parking lot. No one could see her from the road once she walked past the Dumpster and this made her even more afraid. She fumbled with her keys and then dropped them as she tried to pull them out of her purse. She picked them up and almost had the key in the lock when Chip McPhale walked up beside her and put his hand on her throat. Then he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around so that her back was pressed up against the driver’s side door.
“You just don’t seem to listen, do you?” Chip then let go of Colby’s arm but kept his other hand on her throat. He had his body pressed against her and she knew he was much stronger than she was and that there was no way she was going to be able to break free. Chip tightened his grip on Colby’s throat and this caused her to gasp for air as she tried to inhale.
“Chip… Please…” Colby could barely speak. Her words were hoarse and could barely get past the constriction in her throat caused by Chip’s hand.
Chip then dropped his free hand to Colby’s thigh. Then he pulled his hand up slowly and forced it between her legs. Then he tightened his grip on the soft skin of her inner thigh. She tried to cry out but Chip’s hold on her throat was too tight. Then Chip leaned in so that his mouth was close to Colby’s ear.
“You tell your fucking little boyfriend that I’m coming for him. I’m going to beat his head in with the same two by four that he tried to kill me with. Once his sorry ass is out of the way I’m going to fuck you in that old Shaw woman’s bed. I’m going to give it to you like a real man. Once I get done pumping you I’m going to burn that fucking house down. And if your pussy is as good as I think it’s going to be, I might let you live so that I can fuck you again. But if you don’t please me then I’ll kill you and burn your damn body up with the house right along with that city puke. Do you understand?”
She could not breathe much less say anything to Chip. She felt herself getting lightheaded from the lack of o
xygen. Chip sensed this and released his grip on her throat. She responded by sucking a huge gulp of air into her lungs.
“You tell him, Colby. Tell him there is nowhere to hide. Tell him I’ll find his sorry ass if he decides to skip town. He got a lucky shot at the train station, but you tell him that I’m going to make him pay for it.”
Colby held her hand across her throat over the spot where Chip’s hand had been. She watched as he walked off past the Dumpster and then back to the street. Then he turned around the edge of the building and disappeared. A few seconds later Colby heard a truck engine start. Then she watched as the truck drove slowly past the diner parking lot. Chip was in the passenger’s seat and his brother was driving.
They both looked over at Colby just as Ethan hit the brakes. He backed the truck up and then turned into the diner parking lot where he brought the truck to a stop near the rear end of Colby’s car. When Chip opened the door and stepped down onto the pavement, Colby could see the rage in his eyes.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said as he took a step towards her.
***
After Logan finished with Harmon he walked to the diner. He felt a wave of relief when he saw Colby’s car in the parking lot. Maybe he hadn’t missed her. Harmon had droned on for hours about the old house and its dark past. After they had finished Logan had excused himself as quickly as he could. He had had enough of the ghost stories about the old house and now only wanted to see Colby.
Once inside the diner Logan felt his heart sink when he didn’t see Colby. Just then a waitress walked by carrying a pitcher of tea in one hand and a coffee pot in the other.
“Excuse me, have you seen Colby?” Logan didn’t remember the waitress’s name even though Colby had introduced him to her just the other day.
“Yep. She left about thirty minutes ago. Said she was going to see you.” The waitress then winked at Logan.
“Thirty minutes ago? But her car is still out back.”
This seemed to puzzle the waitress, who then frowned like she was suddenly deep in thought.