by Kat Shepherd
Tanya quietly cleared her throat. “But maybe could it be…” Maggie shushed her quickly and scooted her chair closer to Kawanna.
“One night I had to stay late to organize the costumes. I was the only one in the entire house. It was deathly quiet … but then I heard something downstairs. A ragged sliding, like something lurching across the floor. I heard a long, slow creak, and I knew someone, or something, had opened the basement door.”
“How did you know it was the basement door?” Tanya asked.
“Shhh!” Maggie put her hand over Tanya’s mouth.
“I crept downstairs. The basement door was open a few inches. Most of the lights were off … all I could see was inky blackness through the doorway, but I could hear something. Like a raspy hiss, followed by a thud. Hiss … thud. Hiss … thud. Something was being dragged slowly down the stairs.”
Rebecca hugged herself.
“I was terrified, but I made myself walk to that open door. I had to know what it was. Slowly, slowly, I opened the door. The sound below stopped. I waited. A few minutes later it started again. Hiss … thud. Hiss … thud. I jumped forward and turned on the light. There, in the middle of the stairs, was a human head.”
The girls collectively gasped, and Rebecca dropped her napkin.
“It was just one of our props; it wasn’t a real human head,” Kawanna said, and Clio swatted her arm. “But it wasn’t moving by itself,” Kawanna whispered. “Something was pulling it by the hair.”
Rebecca leaned forward, perching on the edge of her chair. “What was it?” she whispered.
Kawanna gestured for the girls to lean in even closer, until the tops of their heads were almost touching.
“A RAT!” Kawanna shouted, and the girls jumped, knocking their trash off the table. “Turns out the whole house was infested with them. We had to hire an exterminator before we could finish shooting the movie.”
The girls laughed and bent to gather their trash. Clio tossed a plastic spoon into the garbage can, shaking her head. “You are too much, Auntie.”
“Oh, those poor rats,” Tanya said, and Rebecca patted her back. Rebecca still remembered the day in preschool when Tanya had learned where bacon came from and immediately declared herself a vegetarian.
“Trust me, if you had seen how big those rats were, you wouldn’t be feeling sorry for them,” Kawanna said. “They were scarier than any ghost would ever be!”
Rebecca giggled along with the others, but the story made her think back to Kyle’s room on the night of the storm—the way the wind had pushed the autumn leaves against the window screen. The handprint. The feeling of something watching. Maybe the wind had blown open the window, but she was sure the print on the sill had been left by … something. An animal? But how would an animal have gotten through the screen?
CHAPTER
5
“THANKS AGAIN FOR coming on such short notice,” Mrs. Dunmore said, slinging a bulging tote bag onto her shoulder. “I know you have school tomorrow, so it’s only for a little while. I’m heading to Book Club and Scott got held up at work. He should be home in less than an hour.” Rebecca didn’t usually babysit for the Dunmores on Wednesdays, but she had been happy to bike over when Mrs. Dunmore called earlier in the evening.
Rebecca looked down at her watch. “Kyle’s already had dinner, but does he need a bath before bed?”
Mrs. Dunmore smiled. “Nope, that’s done, too! I wanted it to be as easy as possible for you tonight.”
“Sounds good to me!” Rebecca said. She scooped the baby up in her arms. “You ready to play, sunshine?” She paused and looked up at Mrs. Dunmore. “Wait a minute, where’s Bearbear?”
“Bearbear…?” Mrs. Dunmore looked confused for a moment, and then her face lit up with recognition. “That’s right,” she answered. “Kyle doesn’t seem that interested in Bearbear anymore.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. I mean, that was fast. What happened?”
Mrs. Dunmore’s smile faded a bit as she tried to think. “I don’t really know. I think it was around the time you last babysat, when Scott and I went to that adorable new restaurant. Something kind of funny happened that night, didn’t it? Something with the power lines. Do you remember?”
Stunned, Rebecca felt her mouth drop open in shock. Of course she did; it had been less than two weeks ago! “Yeah, there was that weird big storm and the power went out.”
“Is that what happened?” Mrs. Dunmore asked vaguely. “Anyway, I think it was around then.”
Rebecca was floored. Kyle and Bearbear had been inseparable, but now Mrs. Dunmore didn’t seem to care that Kyle had suddenly outgrown his toy. It was strange—Rebecca’s own parents still took every opportunity possible to tell the story of their daughter throwing her pacifier out the car window. “Wow, big change! How is he doing with it?”
Mrs. Dunmore’s eyes shifted into focus again. “Well, he’s been a little … off … the last few days. Nothing major, just kind of fussy. We wondered if he might be teething again.” She stroked her son’s cheek and put the tote bag back on the floor. “Maybe I should stay.…”
“If you want to stay home, I’m happy to stick around and help,” Rebecca offered. “But I think we’ll be fine. I can always pull out the jelly ring from the freezer if it gets too bad. It seemed to help the last time he got a tooth.” She placed Kyle on a blanket spread over the carpet and handed him a plastic block.
After a few more reassurances and promises to call if anything went wrong, Rebecca gently herded Mrs. Dunmore out of the house and turned back to Kyle, who was playing idly with a vivid red maple leaf.
“Where did that come from?” Rebecca asked. She didn’t remember seeing it when she had arrived—the bright splash of color would have been noticeable against the cool, neutral tones of the Dunmores’ living room. The streamlined beige sofa and fluffy cream-colored rug blended gently into the pewter-gray walls. Even the photographs were in black and white. Feeling a sudden chill, Rebecca shivered and walked over to the open window. “I guess the wind blew it in,” she said to the baby, forcing a note of cheer in her voice. She closed and locked the window, noticing a small, damp, green smudge on the otherwise sparkling glass pane. Her heart fluttered, but she pushed her anxious thoughts away. It’s just a smudge.
Rebecca squatted down next to Kyle and reached for the leaf. “Can I see?” The baby giggled and pulled the treasure tightly to his chest, turning his body away from his sitter. “Well, fine, then.” She laughed, shrugging.
Rebecca left Kyle with his leaf and wandered into the kitchen to pull his teething ring out of the freezer. In the silence of the house, Rebecca could hear whispers and giggles coming from the living room. Kyle babbled sometimes, but he knew only a few words, and she had certainly never heard him whisper. I can’t wait to tell his parents! Rebecca thought, excited. “What are you talking about in there?” she called out happily, closing the freezer door.
The whispering stopped, and the giggling turned sly before it was cut off abruptly by a distinctive Shh!
Someone else was with Kyle.
Fear seized Rebecca’s chest, and she dashed into the living room. The baby was alone, sitting on the blanket exactly where she had left him. She glanced around, sure she had heard whispers. Maybe Mr. Dunmore came home early and snuck into the house?
“Mr. Dunmore?” Rebecca called nervously. There was no answer. “Are you and Kyle trying to play a trick on me?” she asked doubtfully. He wasn’t the kind of dad that usually played pranks, but who else would it be? She steeled herself, expecting him to jump out of the closet. Silent minutes ticked by. Rebecca checked the front door, just to be on the safe side. It was locked and bolted from the inside, just as she had left it. Then what had she heard?
Rebecca pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped Maggie’s name in her contacts. Even when they were little, Maggie had always had a knack for keeping Rebecca’s worries from getting the best of her. The line rang twice, and then the c
all went to voice mail. “Hi, Mags,” Rebecca said self-consciously. “It’s me. I’m just feeling a little—” Rebecca remembered how Maggie had teased her about the storm. “Um … bored. So give me a call when you get this. Bye.” Slipping the phone back in her pocket, she noticed Kyle watching her.
Rebecca picked up the baby and hugged him tightly to her chest. She thought back to a couple of years ago when her little brother, Isaac, had insisted that he shared his bedroom with an invisible snowman named Bartleby. Her brother had spent hours chattering away to Bartleby and drawing pictures of him. Isaac had been three then, but maybe babies could have imaginary friends, too.
“Were you talking with your new leaf friend?” Rebecca cooed, bouncing the baby gently as she walked. Kyle didn’t answer, but his gaze was guarded when he looked up at her face. “You look sleepy,” she said. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Rebecca carried Kyle slowly up the stairs and flicked on the hallway light. Family pictures lined the clay-colored walls. Faded old photos of the grandparents and great-grandparents hung next to a large wedding portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Dunmore kissing under a flower-covered arbor with a bright blue sky behind them. In another, the couple smiled proudly in a hospital room with a newborn Kyle swaddled up in their arms.
Continuing down the hall toward Kyle’s room, Rebecca caught a faint whiff of a strange, earthy smell, like a forest floor after a rainstorm. She sniffed again, but the scent faded as quickly as it had come.
She reached inside Kyle’s room and turned on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness. Why did his room look so grubby? Rebecca placed the baby in the crib and peered closely at the wall above it. The image was faint, but it looked like a series of little handprints. Rebecca smiled to herself. Kyle was probably using the edge of the crib to pull himself up and grabbing at the wall at night. He really was growing up.
She looked closer. The fingers of these prints seemed longer and skinnier than Kyle’s short, stubby fingers. Maybe he had dragged his fingers along the wall … but the prints weren’t streaky or smudgy. They had distinct, crisp outlines and seemed to go on much farther than just above Kyle’s crib. In fact, they seemed to be all over the wall. She blinked.
Rebecca craned her neck. Was that them on the ceiling, too? The hair prickled on her scalp. It couldn’t be.
She tried to imagine how the prints could have gotten there. Maybe Mr. Dunmore had been holding Kyle and letting him touch the ceiling for a game. Her stomach tightened. You know those aren’t Kyle’s handprints.
She thought of Kawanna’s story about the rats. Maybe it was a raccoon after all. But raccoons don’t walk upside down on the ceiling.
Rebecca pressed her body against the crib to brace herself as she stretched up on her tiptoes for a closer look.
Something brushed her shoulder. Rebecca yelped and whirled around.
“Rebecca, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Mr. Dunmore’s face was sheepish. “I thought you heard me come in, and I didn’t want to wake the baby.” Kyle’s eyelids fluttered, but his breathing stayed quiet and even.
Relieved, Rebecca caught her breath. “I’m sorry; I must not have heard you. I guess these handprints had me a little freaked out.”
“Handprints?” he asked.
Rebecca pointed. Now that she knew they were there, the dirty marks showed up clearly against the pale blue paint of the wall. “I can understand how Kyle was able to get over here,” she whispered, gesturing toward the area near the crib, “but I’m not sure how he got to the rest of the wall, or up to the ceiling.” Rebecca giggled. “Flying baby, maybe?”
Mr. Dunmore chuckled in disbelief. “Wow, I didn’t notice how dirty the walls had gotten in here. Glad we splurged on the washable paint! I’ll scrub these over the weekend.” He squinted at the ceiling. “Must be cobwebs up there or something.”
“No, not cobwebs.” Rebecca pointed. “Look, see, they’re handprints. I just wondered how they got there,” she repeated, looking at him.
Mr. Dunmore met Rebecca’s gaze, but his eyes were unfocused. “It doesn’t look like handprints to me, but maybe your eyes are younger.” He laughed and shrugged.
From behind him, Kyle’s tiny hand snaked through the crib, and the red maple leaf fluttered down onto the carpet. “Oh, no, did we wake him?” Rebecca asked softly. Kyle’s eyes were still closed, and he was curled up tightly. She bent to pick up the leaf. “Kyle wouldn’t let go of it all night. Maybe it’s his new Bearbear!”
“I’ll take that,” Mr. Dunmore said, reaching out his hand. “Let’s let him get back to sleep.” He slipped the leaf into his pocket and stepped out of the room, switching off the light behind him.
Rebecca followed, peering uneasily back into the room one last time.
Her heart caught in her throat—a shadow moved from beneath Kyle’s crib. In the blink of an eye, it scuttled across the wall and out through the open window.
CHAPTER
6
THIS MUST BE what heaven smells like, Rebecca thought as the smell of fresh vanilla cake permeated the warm air of the baking room. She brushed at her floury apron and admired her latest confectionary creation. Her cake nestled cozily in a white cardboard box, the pale yellow icing coating it like a velvety skin. Small, deep blue stars studded the top.
Sure, the fondant lumped a bit in a few spots, but it looked almost as good as any bakery cake. She gently closed the box’s lid and tied it with cotton twine.
As she snipped off a length of twine, Rebecca was surprised to feel her phone buzzing insistently in her pocket. Her parents were at a medical seminar for the day, and her friends always texted. As soon as she saw Clio’s name on the screen, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
“Hey, Clio. What’s wrong?” Rebecca asked.
“Well, I don’t know,” her friend replied.
Rebecca cradled the phone against her ear. “What happened?”
“Kyle’s acting really strange. He doesn’t want to play any of the games you said he loves, and anytime I try to cuddle or pick him up, he throws a temper tantrum. He’s been hitting me, too. I’ve tried everything, even singing his favorite lullaby, but nothing seems to calm him down.”
“I’ll be right over.” Rebecca grabbed her helmet, hurried to her bike, and headed off to meet Clio.
Her mind turned over and over as she rode through the quiet, shady side streets that led to the Dunmores’ neighborhood. Kyle had had other babysitters before, and she knew that Clio was a great sitter. What could be making him so upset? He had certainly been crabby a few months ago when he had first started teething. And drooly. But he hadn’t thrown tantrums. She thought about the shadow she had seen in his room and pedaled faster, pushing the memory from her mind. That can’t have been real.
As Rebecca hauled her bike onto the Dunmores’ porch, Clio opened the door to let her in. Rebecca noticed something white wrapped around Clio’s hand. Kyle sat on the floor with his back to the girls, banging Bearbear with a green plastic hammer.
“How’s he been acting since you called? Any better?” Rebecca asked.
Clio grimaced and held up her hand. “Not exactly.”
“What’s that?”
Clio sighed and gently began to unwind a white dishrag from around her hand. “He bit me. Hard, too! I’m bleeding.” Bright red blood oozed out of a cut in the heel of her hand.
Rebecca bent over the wound. “Let me see.” Remembering her first aid training, she examined it carefully without touching it. “It doesn’t look very deep. Have you cleaned it?”
Clio shook her head. “I haven’t had a chance. It just happened a few minutes ago, and I didn’t want to leave Kyle alone. Thanks for coming over to help.” Clio smiled gratefully at her friend and hurried off to the kitchen to clean her cut.
Rebecca turned to Kyle. “Hey, sunshine,” she said softly. “What’s going on?” The baby didn’t look at her. She bent over and studied him. “C’mon, cuddlebug. What’s wrong?” He didn’t
seem flushed or feverish. She reached for his forehead, and he smacked her hand away. Rebecca pulled back, stunned. “Whoa, Kyle. That’s not how we act.” Kyle hit his teddy bear a final time with the plastic hammer before shoving it away and crawling toward the coffee table.
“Not so fast, buddy,” Rebecca said. She swooped down and picked him up. He twisted in her arms, a dark scowl on his face, and squealed furiously.
Clio walked back into the living room, a neon-blue bandage strip on her hand. “You’re right; it wasn’t very deep. But man, it really hurt!” She noticed the baby struggling in Rebecca’s arms. “Yeah, that’s exactly what he was doing with me. I can’t figure out what’s wrong with him! I thought it was because I was new, but I guess it’s something else.”
Kyle thrust his head and butted Rebecca’s chin. Her head snapped back. “Ow!” she exclaimed.
Something dark flashed in Kyle’s eyes, and a cruel giggle burbled out of him. Rebecca quickly walked Kyle over to his playpen and put him inside. “No, Kyle,” she said. “We don’t laugh when people get hurt.” She turned to Clio, her eyes wide. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into him. I swear he is normally the sweetest, easiest baby on the planet! Last Wednesday was a strange night, but he barely fussed at all.”
“Maybe it’s just teething,” Clio suggested. She held up her injured hand. “He’s certainly got a few choppers in there.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” Rebecca said slowly. “I mean, he has a few teeth already, so it would make sense that more are coming in. But, gosh, I just can’t believe he bit you.” She gazed worriedly at the playpen, where—one by one—Kyle methodically dropped each of his toys over the side and onto the living room floor. Purple plastic block. Plop. Stuffed giraffe. Plop. “Did Mr. and Mrs. Dunmore say anything about this before they left?”