Curious as well, the rest of us stood and followed him, Candy toddling behind with a bag of chips in her chubby, dirty hands. “Doggy bark? Doggy cry?” she asked.
Laura stopped and scooped her up in her arms, resting her on her hip. “Doggy okay sweet pea,” she said. “We’re just gonna go check.”
Jenny ran to catch up with her husband, her tiny frame looking fragile next to his 6’3” height and thick chest. “I’m gonna kill that dog if he’s dug up my flowers,” she seethed. Jenny had a thing about her flowers. No matter where they lived she had to beautify it. She’d planted the marigolds there before they’d even moved in.
Lulu was at the side of the house, frantically pawing at the dirt under the kitchen window, a good ten feet from the precious flowers. Jenny stood back and crossed her arms, satisfied she wouldn’t have to make a scene. Lulu had already dug up an impressive amount of soil but continued scraping at the side, growling and barking as she worked.
“What’s she doing?” Natalie asked. Her curly blond hair fell nearly to her waist, almost drowning out her tiny frame. Natalie was a beautiful, elfin–looking child. People on the street and in stores would regularly stop and take a second look at her, enchanted.
Laura shook her head. “I don’t know. Lulu? Lulu!”
Ignoring her, the dog continued.
We all watched, kind of fascinated, as she dug and burrowed deep into the ground, spawning a large pile of sod behind her. I figured she might be after a mole or rabbit. Hopefully not a snake. Captivated by her obsession, nobody said a word and hung back a little, trying not to get dirt flung on them. Then, abruptly, Jimmy stepped forward.
“Ha ha,” he laughed. “She found a window. Look!”
With one hand he grabbed Lulu by the collar and pulled her away. She grunted a little and then whined to go back to her job, but he gave her a slight push toward the gravel road and she sulked away, dusty and tired.
Jimmy was right about the window she’d uncovered. Sticking up about ten inches from the ground was a small, rectangular piece of glass. It had been covered by soil before Lulu’s digging; none of us had noticed it earlier on our walk out to the barn.
“What is it?” Brenda asked, drawing closer. Laura hung back a little, still holding onto Candy. She stood with her hip jutted out in an awkward angle, balancing the toddler and taking the pressure off her legs at the same time. Laura wasn’t a very tall girl; Candy was almost as big as she was.
Jimmy got down on his hands and knees and scraped away the grime with his fingernail. Using his hands to shield the glass from the glare of the sun, he peered in. “Huh,” he grunted. “It’s a basement. Or a cellar, more like it. Has a dirt floor.”
“Let me see, let me see,” Brenda cried, rushing forward. Bobby reached out his hand and knocked her to the ground, leaving her dazed. “What did you do that for?”
Ignoring her, he bent down and peered inside. “It’s just a dirty basement,” Bobby snorted and stomped away.
Brenda rose to her feet, dusted off her bright red shorts, and marched over. She squatted down and put her hands on either side of her eyes to shield them. After studying the room for a moment she stood back up. “It’s got a big table inside,” she reported to the rest of us. “Like it’s nailed to the ground or something. It’s really dark in there and you can’t see much.”
When I had my turn I pressed my nose to the glass, mindful of cobwebs. The room inside was stuffy looking, with dusty shelves, old cans of paint, and rusty nails scattered everywhere. With no light, other than what was coming through the window I was currently blocking, it was hard to see much, but the long table in the middle took up half the room. Brenda was right, it did seem to be nailed to the ground. I imagined it to be a work table or something for tools; it was pretty ordinary looking.
As I let my eyes scan the room, however, a dark smell rose from the dirt floors and began drifting through the window. It was a foul, putrid odor that accosted my nostrils and throat and sent me backwards, gagging and sputtering for fresh air.
“Ew, what is that?” Natalie cried, pinching her nose.
“I hope it’s not the septic system,” Jenny moaned.
Jimmy, who stood close to the house, coughed loudly. When I looked up at him, I could see his eyes were red and watery. “I don’t know,” he said, “but maybe it was covered for a reason. Let’s put the dirt back over that sucker.”
The girls and I spent the next few minutes tossing the dirt back to where it came from, holding our noses and keeping our mouths clamped shut while we worked. Laura stood back, stroking Candy’s hair and murmuring something to her. She wouldn’t come near the house.
Laura’s Stay
Despite the fact that Laura had yet to spend a night in the house, and they’d just moved in, she wanted to come home with me.
“I don’t care,” Jimmy said, satisfied that the truck had been unloaded and they could get it back in time. “As long as she gets her bedroom set up first. Hell, she’s worked so hard I’ll let her go for a week!”
Excited at the prospect of having Laura to myself for an entire week I rushed upstairs with her, eager to help her unpack. It didn’t take long to have her bed made, her stuffed animals lined up on her shelves, her books arranged, and her clothes in her old, beat–up chest of drawers.
Although I was a little surprised that Laura was so ready to leave her new house, I figured she needed a break. She needed a break from her sisters as much as I needed a break from my loneliness.
It could have been the heat as well. Even though she and Mary had the fan going, their bedroom was hotter than blazes.
When we got back downstairs, Laura’s clothes stuffed into a brown paper grocery bag, we found Jenny cursing in the kitchen. “Shit fire,” she hollered.
We walked into the tiny, stuffy room with Jimmy and my mom to see what the commotion was about and found Jenny staring at the floor, hands on hips.
“What’s the matter,” Jimmy asked, looking around in confusion. Everything looked ordinary enough.
“Look!” she screeched, pointing at the floor. “Just look at that damn thing!”
We all looked down and could immediately see what had upset her.
Although I had personally seen her scrubbing the floor with bleach for nearly an hour, and had watched the tomato juice stain completely disappear, it was back now, as scarlet as before. If anything, the puddle had intensified in color, its edges reaching out to all of us who encircled it. Jenny shook her head in scorn, lips pursed. Jimmy merely laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “Well, maybe you need to use something else. Lemon juice?”
As Laura and I said our goodbyes and started for the door I couldn’t help but think that it looked less like a tomato juice stain and more like a pool of blood.
Laura’s weeklong stay was one of the best times I’d had in my life. With my mom working during the day, Laura and I were left to our own devices. We’d stay up late watching movies, listening to music, or playing with my Barbie’s. Then we’d fall asleep with the radio on, listening to George Strait and Dwight Yoakam–two men we swore we’d marry one day.
“How do you think ‘Laura Strait’ sounds?” she asked in all seriousness.
“I think it sounds great,” I’d answer back. “How about Rebecca Yoakam?”
“Fabulous,” she’d giggle and then we’d proceed to plan our weddings, mentally designing one another’s maid–of–honor dresses.
We spent our days walking to the park, checking out books from the library, or swimming at the university pool. With my mom’s employee pass we could get in for free. One of our favorite places to visit was a small used book store called the Paperback Exchange. Not only were the books priced cheap enough so that even two kids could buy a few, she’d also take our books in as trades and give us store credit. We stocked up on “The Babysitters’ Club” and “Sweet Valley High,” sometimes sitting down with our legs crossed and reading aloud to each other right there on the store’s dusty fl
oor.
If we had any money left over, we’d walk around the corner to the bakery where they made homemade donuts with thick chocolate frosting.
Laura had been at my house for nearly three days before she told me the real reason she’d wanted to come.
I was lying on the fake bearskin rug in my bedroom floor, flipping through an issue of Seventeen while she stretched out on my bed above me, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey, you wanna hear something weird?” she asked lightly.
“Sure,” I replied without looking up. I was engrossed with gossip about Fred Savage, my latest crush.
“I think our house is haunted.”
I put the magazine down then and straightened up. Laura continued gazing at the ceiling, focused on something only she could see. “Why? What for?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“You know I do,” I replied. We’d lived in a haunted house the year before. We’d only stayed four months because the incidents had escalated to the point where something was happening nearly every day. There’d been no rest, no peace, and no answers. I shuddered to think about it even now.
“Well, when me and Mary were carrying our mattress up the stairs something pushed me at the top,” Laura said nervously. Her face was a little pale even now as she remembered. “I got up to the top of the stairs and stopped to take a rest. Mary was screaming at me to keep moving so I lifted it up again to take a step back. And then something pushed me. Gave me a big shove, like it was trying to throw me down the stairs.”
“Oh my God,” I cried. “What happened?”
“I fell into the mattress and knocked Mary backwards. If she hadn’t grabbed onto the bannister she would’ve fallen. We lost the mattress and it went flying down the stairs.” Laura winced and closed her eyes.
I tried to imagine Mary, pale blond hair and big blue eyes, holding onto the bannister, angry and shouting at Laura for letting go. And Laura, confused at the top, trying to gain her own balance.
“Are you sure nobody else was up there?” I asked.
“I thought it might have been my uncle Brian at first, playing a trick on me. But there was nobody there. A few seconds after it happened they all came back inside. Everyone was, you know, accounted for and all.”
I leaned forward, wanting to know more. After all, ghost stories were a lot more exciting when they happened to someone else.
“Did anything else happen?” I asked.
Laura nodded. “Later, in my bedroom, I was in there by myself pushing boxes around. I heard these footsteps coming down the hall. They were real heavy, like someone with big boots on. They stopped at each door, like they were looking for someone, and then they’d move to the next. I figured it was Dad or Uncle Brian, you know?”
I nodded in encouragement.
“But then,” Laura bit her lip, “then they got almost to mine and stopped. I stood up and called out ‘hello’ but nobody answered. I figured maybe they were playing a trick on me, trying to scare me. So I stayed real quiet and tiptoed to the door. I could hear their breathing, really deep and kind of like an old man. You know, wheezing. I still thought it might be someone pretending to be a monster. When I got to the door I stopped. I could hear them on the other side and see their shadow against the wall across from me. Something about it…”
“Yeah?”
“Something about it wasn’t right. It looked too big to be Dad or Uncle Brian. They’re kind of skinny, you know? This shadow was tall. And fat. But I crouched low and put my hands out in front of me. Then I jumped out into the hallway and screamed AAARRRGGG!”
I jumped back, startled. She giggled a little.
“Sorry about that.”
“What did they do?” I asked.
Laura shrugged. “There wasn’t anyone there.”
I hated taking Laura home. Usually talkative with Mom or singing along with the radio, she sat in the back seat with me and for the entire drive gazed out the window and frowned at the passing scenery.
On the day before she left we’d visited the campus of my mom’s university. In the middle of the campus there was a statue of Daniel Boone, his copper foot pointing forward. Urban legend said that if you rubbed it and made a wish, that wish would come true.
I had placed my hand on it, closed my eyes, and rubbed vigorously while I whispered, “I wish to be a country music singer!”
When it was Laura’s turn she had placed her hand on it, closed her eyes, and vowed, “I wish to move in with Rebecca.”
I’d given her a hug and then put my hand back on it and made a second wish, just in case.
“You can come back any time you want to Laura,” my mom promised as we pulled into the long gravel driveway.
Laura nodded and chewed on her lip. She looked uncertain.
Her sisters and brother came flying out the front door when they heard the car, big smiles on all their faces. One by one they surrounded her, some clinging to her, but although she patted each skinny little arm back and kissed tops of heads, her eyes were dull. She didn’t smile and I thought she looked lost. There was nothing more I wanted than to grab her and throw her back inside the car.
Jenny was inside in the kitchen, scrubbing at the floor again. “It don’t matter,” Brenda whispered to us. “She’s tried everything. The stain goes away and then comes right back.”
Jimmy, normally up and working on something, was stretched out on the couch, a heating pad plugged into the wall and underneath him.
“You okay Daddy?” Laura asked, going to him and gently giving him a hug.
“I don’t know,” he replied, wincing in pain from her touch. “I was just walking around down here and BAM! A pain sliced through my back. So sharp I thought I’d broke it. It’s been like this for two days now. Can’t hardly get up off the couch.”
“Have you been to the doctor?” my mom asked in concern.
“Hello no,” Jenny called from the kitchen. “You can’t force the man to see a doctor. He thinks it’s going to go away on its own.”
“Probably will,” he grimaced. “Probably just strained something from the move. I ain’t as young as I used to be.”
But, then again, Jimmy was only thirty.
“Our car don’t want to start neither,” Natalie stated.
“What’s the matter with it?” Mom asked.
“Don’t know,” Brenda shrugged. “It acts like it’s gonna start but then it don’t. Uncle Brian come out to look at it and said it was fine. Pushed it out there to the road to hook up to his trailer and take it to the shop and it started right up. Run fine. Brought it back to the driveway and it stopped.”
“It will only start if it’s on the road,” Natalie agreed. “Won’t run at all in the driveway. You pull it onto the gravel and it dies.”
My mom and I looked at one another, at a loss.
I could see that Jenny had been busy in the living room. She’d decorated the walls with Home Interior prints of angels, butterflies, and light houses. A gold cross hung over the couch and the thick family Bible was open on the coffee table. Their furniture was old but it was clean. Laura walked around, taking note of it all, as though making sure everything was still there. She nodded her head in approval at several things and pursed her lips at others.
“That damn dog keeps digging up that window, too,” Jenny said, coming into the living room to see us. “And every time she does it that stink fills the whole yard. I guess it’s sewage leaking under the house or something. Might have to call the landlord.”
It was growing dark now and the house didn’t feel as inviting as it did in the daytime. It was hot, stale, and even the large living room felt cramped with all of us in there. Although they’d just moved from a lot smaller trailer, this bigger room was crowded and stifling. I looked around in shock then, suddenly realizing how different everyone looked.
Laura’s family was an attractive one. The girls were as pretty as the child models you saw in the Sears catalogue, each one with blond hair
, blue eyes, and petite frames. Jenny was an attractive young woman with red hair down to her waist and a svelte figure. Now, though, she looked sickly and gaunt. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was matted and stringy, like it hadn’t been brushed in days.
The girls were pale and poorly looking, with big hollow eyes and sunken cheeks. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in a very long time. Natalie’s hair, normally the shining centerpiece of the group, had lost its gloss. Even Candy toddled awkwardly, her usually chubby cheeks smaller and lacking their usual bloom.
What had happened in the week we’d been gone? Laura was the only healthy looking one in the group. She stood out with her tan face, bouncy hair, and bright eyes.
I didn’t feel right leaving her there. I would’ve asked Jimmy for her to come back with me and would’ve gladly brought anyone else who wanted to come, but I was afraid he’d say no. Mom was also quiet and frowned as she looked around. Our eyes met and she pursed her lips, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t.
As we got in the car and pulled away I looked up at Laura’s bedroom window. There was a soft light inside, probably from the lamp on her nightstand. It was the only room illuminated in the otherwise dark house. I remembered then that the living room lights had been off while we were in there, the only light stemming from the kitchen in the back of the house.
Laura appeared then, moving aside the lace curtains to stare out at our car. She raised her hand in a silent wave and then let it fall limply to her side. She looked like a ghost.
Hello Again
That night alone at home without Laura was incredibly difficult.
My mom and I stayed in our tiny, gloomy apartment and kept to ourselves. She watched television while I read, neither one of us saying much. Laura had been a breath of fresh air for both of us, always laughing and chattering and offering to help with things around the house. Now it felt too quiet.
Two Weeks: A True Haunting (True Hauntings Book 3) Page 2