Rickrack House: A Paranormal Suspense Story (Haunted House Raffle Series Book 1)

by Trinity Crow

  A shudder rippled though me. The spiral. It held power and danger both, and until I knew more, I would not venture beyond that wattled heathen gate. My heart lightened at this decision and I shook of the last remnants of unease. It was once more early morning, I still walked free of my oppressors and my garden was calling to me.

  Pushing open the back door, I kicked off my shoes as I crossed the warmed boards of the screen porch. The door creaked its familiar song as I went down the steps and into the garden.

  Early rays of sunshine stroked my skin welcoming me as I lifted my face to take in the day. Farther down the path, tangled beds waited to be cleared. They held a joyful promise of time well spent rather than the weight of chores yet undone. Inside the beds, the dirt was dark and rich with moisture, though the ground they stood on was still dry and powdery.

  Magic. Power. Sentient energy. Someone or something was helping me to care for this land.

  Maybe this small god that Nikki had spoken of wanted only that I respect and honor the land that was theirs to protect. When I had begun clearing the land, the spirit had sent moisture up from the underground spring to dampen the soil, making the weeds easier to pull. Perhaps they would keep crops watered and sent strength to sprouting seeds. I had pulled the boards from the upstairs windows to let in light and air, and in return, they had weathered the mortar away, until now, it crumbled like sand.

  Stepping lightly across the earth to show my gratitude, I knelt beside the next bed. Dried straw-like stems, tangles of vines and withered leaves came up easily. Stacking them beside me for composting, I dug the old trowel deep into the rich soil of the bed. No wonder the weeds were having such a field day, I thought, as I turned over the sweet smelling dirt.

  The crumbly loam barely needed me to loosen it before raking the top smooth. The old rake I'd found had long since lost its handle, but the metal prongs were as good as ever. The rusty claw worked as a comb to even the top of my new seed bed. It broke apart any clods that would make it hard for seeds to push through and gathered the sticks and stones together that I might remove them.

  There was a rustle in the leaves beside me. I turned my head to see the fox, staring up at me from the bed he was trampling in my weed pile. He tilted his head and observed me coolly from those expressive eyes. The wispy black hairs gracing the tips of his ears gave him a wild, untamed look, despite the way he cocked his head and offered a low, friendly yip in greeting.

  “Hello again,” I said in a soft voice, feeling a bit apprehensive at his nearness. The fox took this as encouragement enough to stand and pad over to me. I tensed slightly but held still, letting him sniff me thoroughly. When I passed inspection, he rubbed his head forcefully along my arm, his demand for petting as clear as day. When I obliged, he responded with a low rumbling sound like a far-off swarm of honeybees. I scratched the beloved spot behind the ears and then, with one gentle finger, the short hairs on his nose. His eyes closed in pleasure and his trust in me was my reward.

  “And where did you wander over from? Hmmm?” I asked him quietly, unwilling to break the spell that made him so accepting of me. His golden eyes flickered open and then shut again, as if he chose not to share his secret.

  We stayed that way for some time before I reluctantly moved to another bed. The fox followed along, as patiently as any old hound. He thoroughly investigated the weeds I pulled, rolling on his back over the more fragrant ones. I kept up a conversation, familiarizing him with the sound of me and trying to ensure he knew I was not a threat.

  The morning flew by and we had a happy time of it. I had quite forgotten about Cassie until my new companion sat up abruptly and flicked his ears. With a gentle nudge against my arm for farewell, he slipped away among the bushes that led to the stunted orchard beyond.

  I frowned, feeling bereft at his sudden departure. Then I, too, caught the sound of the car that had driven him away, though it was still far enough away that I might have time to wash my hands and make myself more generally presentable. Thougn I had shared the garden with Nikki willingly enough, more and more, it felt like my place and my time and that the presence of anyone else would be too intrusive to bear.

  Chapter 21

  I hurried inside, trying to adjust my mindset from peace and solitude to the hurly-burly energy that was Cassie. I was on the porch, waiting, when she pulled in. She gave no sign of surprise that I was alive and un-murdered. It occurred to me that Cassie had developed a layer of protection which meant not caring too deeply for anyone. Nikki, Tasmyn and I seemed to exist only in the shallowest layer of her memory. As if we were characters in a play, she dismissed us when the curtain came down and we were no longer in sight.

  “Come help me carry stuff,” Cassie yelled from the window, waving to me.

  With a bit of trepidation, I made my way down the stairs to the car. What did she need help with? There was no telling what tangent she had gone off on this time. I held my tongue as we unloaded boxes and bags of things that I assumed were to make Cassie more comfortable in my house.

  She grabbed a bag with two styrofoam containers and a drink carrier. “I got breakfast from that Mexican place,” she announced, watching my face with anticipation.

  I hoped I did not disappoint with the smile that flashed across my face at the memory of the delicious food. "They make breakfast?' I asked and then blushed at the greedy tone in my voice.

  Cassie laughed and her smile forgave my rudeness.

  “Thank you,” I said belatedly. “But really, Cassie, you and your brother can't keep paying my way.”

  Cassie shrugged, her smile slipping. “We got a really good settlement after…you know, my parents.” Her blue eyes held shadows as she looked away from me. “You're good for us, Abby. You're not like anyone we have met. You have a ton of problems and it distracts us.”

  “You're saying I'm a weirdo,” I said, trying to tease the girl out of the dark thoughts I had pushed her into.

  She turned to stare at me and then laughed. “Well, yeah, I am,” she admitted and I smiled to see the light breaking in her eyes.

  “So what do Mexican restaurants make for breakfast?” I asked, hoping I did not sound too eager.

  She handed me a container and the smell drifting from it made my mouth water. Sitting on the steps, we piled fragrant eggs, crispy fried potatoes, and grilled peppers into handmade tortillas and lashed them with stripes of a pungent red sauce. From the first bite, I was transported. If this was of the world or I was committing the sin of gluttony, I was all in. The food had a wanton headiness to it that was simple ingredients combined with a passionate explosion of spice and flavor. I saw why the Elders served plain food and dressed us in dull-colored clothes. Why this was denied to us. The richness of the experience awakened all your senses and made you want more from life. Color, sounds, scents, touch, all of them seemed more vibrant. They made possibilities began to stir inside you.

  After we devoured the plates of food, I felt too sated to move, but Cassie had no such lethargy. She jumped to her feet, eager to show me her purchases.

  “So, you know I had a fight with Adam, right?”

  I nodded. She hadn't said much, but her short manner and air of brittle unhappiness had told the rest. Cassie blew out her breath and stopped digging to look moodily off into the distance.

  “We've gotten closer since my parents. . . well, since then, but we fight way more.”

  “You're both dealing with a lot," I said gently. “And your relationship is bound to change.”

  She looked over at me, her face determined. “I know that and I think he means well, but I'm worried that if I don't step up and set some kind of boundaries, he is going to be this overbearing for the rest of our lives.”

  She looked down and frowned, distractedly pulling a box from one bag and shoving it into another.

  “The thing I've realized is that we are grieving very differently. I can't be in that house. All around me are memories, unending, painful reminders that they are gone. I'm n
ot avoiding it, like he says or if I am, it's a healthy thing. I want to move forward. I don't want to spend every day living in some kind of memorial to their lives. I know my dad would hate that.”

  Cassie moved that bag aside and started rummaging through the next.

  “Adam, he wants to stay there forever. He wants to hold all those memories around him like a blanket. Maybe it was wrong of me, but I thought if he had a house here, he'd move into it just to follow me. Just so he could keep doing the overbearing, big brother thing. I thought it would be good for him. He says it was manipulative and sneaky.”

  Cassie heaved a big sigh and passed me a bag which I took and set beside me on the step.

  “And okay, it was manipulative. But I think he is depressed, and being in that house with all their stuff is making him worse. He gave up his apartment in Cedar Falls and moved back in to 'take care of me'.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes as frustration boiled up inside her. “He's only two years older than me and yes, he has been at college two years and I just graduated high school, but I've been away from home way more than he has. I spent three summers at dance camp! I've been to competitions and been to Europe!”

  “That's amazing,” I told her honestly. “Cassie, I think you are one of the most capable people I know.”

  Cassie quirked and eyebrow and then grinned, her anger and tension gone just like that. “Yeah, but come on, how many people do you know, Abby?”

  “New Eden had about six hundred people,” I told her, “and then there is you, Adam, Tasmyn, Nikki and Finn. Oh, and Officers Jackson and Burton.” I smiled at her. "I guess I don't know really the officers well enough to judge you against them, but I am betting on you anyway.”

  “Well, I'm betting on me, too,” she said, that stubborn line folding her eyebrows down. “If you can camp out here, why can't I camp out at my place?”

  I stared at her. Was she serious?

  "Well, I have furniture…” I started to say.

  “I can buy a mattress,” she said, giving me a scornful look.

  “No, you're right,” I said, rethinking my first hasty comment at the memory of that awful, gutted and filthy house. “You're right. Furniture isn't the issue. I guess. . .safety was his number one concern?”

  “Bingo!” Her mouth twisted wryly.

  “So I think,” I said, slowly, “what I'd need to know is if you think it's safe enough or how do you plan on making it safe?” I paused. “And clean and liveable,” I added, with a small smile. “Those would be my concerns.”

  "See this is why you are so good to talk to!” Cassie said explosively.”You're not just no, no, no! Also no way, forget it and I forbid it!”

  “He forbid it?” I said, a frown of my own darkening my face.

  “He did! And he can't and he shouldn't. I understand he wants to keep you safe, but maybe that means working with you to help you become safe, instead of trying to keep you sheltered and ignorant.”

  Cassie gave me a measuring look. “That New Eden place was pretty bad, huh?"

  I flushed at her shrewd perception. “I didn't know how bad it was till I left. And I left because it was hell.”

  I took a deep breath and settled myself on the step, trying to control the hot flush of anger that Adam's actions had raised in me. “So, I take it you have plans?”

  Cassie lit up. “Do I?!” She laughed. “I'm sorry I was gone so long this morning, but I ran by the house, and then, I had the best conversation with this man and his wife.” She shot me a guilty look. “I am actually meeting them this afternoon. I was. . . I was hoping to persuade you to come with me.”

  “Of course I will,” I said, surprising myself after my recent decision to stick as close to the house as possible.

  “See, because I am trying,” she said defiantly. I knew this was aimed at Adam and not me. “I don't know them really and it could be dangerous, a young girl meeting a strange couple alone at her funky, new house. So I thought it would be sensible to have someone come with me.” Her grin grew cheeky. “So I bribed you with a lovely breakfast and some presents.”

  Cassie skipped over to the bag she had handed me and pulled out a couple of boxes which she piled in my lap. "These are called Luci lights. They're solar lights! You just recharge them in the sun each day and then switch them on at night! I got you a regular and extra bright. They even fold flat to store away.”

  “Solar lights,” I said, amazed. “And there are no wires or batteries?”

  “Not regular batteries. It's a solar battery and you shouldn't need to replace it for years and years.”

  "And here!" She shoved a rectangular box in my arms showing a green metal thing with a pot sitting on a grate. "It's a camp stove, silly. I got some cans of propane too." I studied the box bewildered, murmuring thank you as a matter of course.

  Cassie laughed. "Bet you like this better." She showered brightly colored packets into my lap. I caught them up and a smile spread across my face.

  Seeds!

  "Oh, Cassie!" I said, too overcome to find words.

  She laughed and waved a hand at me before announcing proudly, "I got the kind that you can save seed from."

  I looked up at her, amazed she knew anything at all about seeds and seed saving, but the sheepish look gave her away.

  "Okay, the lady at the store picked them out." She shrugged, not bothered in the least with the little lie. The kind of lie that would have been cause for caning at New Eden.

  "I got some things for my house too! I was going to ask if I can store stuff here until I get completely moved in."

  "Of course you can,” I told her.”I am happy to repay your kindness anyway I can. Cassie. . .I wouldn't have a house without you.”

  Cassie's bright face dimmed and tears shone briefly before she turned away, “You make me feel like such a good person, Abby.”

  I studied her tense figure. “I don't know who you were before I met you, but I see who you are around me and I see who you are trying to be. You don't judge me for being so ignorant and weird. People laughed at me, Cassie," my own voice caught with the remembered fear and loneliness, "when I didn't know about cell phones and internet. I couldn't fill out applications because they kept saying they were online and I didn't know what online was.”

  "But none of that is your fault. It's not who you are.”

  "Well, maybe, but it didn't stop them from being cruel. If I make you feel like a good person, Cassie, then you make me feel like I can do things. Like I have choices. Like I can stand up for myself and have a voice.”

  She offered me a shy smile so unlike her brash grin. “Really? I do that for you?”

  "Really,” I told her in a firm voice. “Now. . .,” I took a deep breath, letting go of that old pain which had no place here. “Can you help me figure out what to wear from those clothes we bought? It doesn't seem like there is much material to any of them.”

  Cassie ran over and hooked her arm in mine. “You bet,” she said. "We can figure out how to ease you into the 21st century without feeling so. . .” She paused to search for a word.

  “Naked,” I said emphatically.

  Cassie laughed. “Okay, no nudity. I guess bikinis are out, too.”

  “What's a bikini?” I said, with a frown.

  Cassie laughed again, but the sound held no cruelty, only friendship and warmth. Still giggling, she tugged me into the house. . .not noticing as more cinder blocks tumbled from their moorings to let in the light.

  ***

  Watching Cassie in action was much like witnessing a tornado whirl past. But unlike the storm, the change she wrought was for the better. My eyes were opened to just what money and determination could accomplish in a short time.

  The married couple whom Cassie had met had also won a house. But being new to town and not very well off, they were happy to earn what money they could. And as Cassie had predicted, knowing someone with a truck came in handy.

  Within a few hours, the house was cleared of excess trash and
the man's truck was loaded to the tipping point. He drove off, Cassie's money in hand, to purchase a sticker for the county dump. She had cleverly bargained with him to include the sticker as part of his wages because now, she told him, he could hire out for other jobs of hauling waste and scrap metal.

  The woman, Amanda, was slim and delicate looking, but she pitched in with a good will. When Cassie found out she was an artist, the conversation turned to the opportunities in town, art, and school. I scrubbed walls and floors quietly, having nothing to add. A lonely feeling tried to grow inside me. but I pushed it away. Maybe I knew nothing now, but I would. I promised myself that I would.

  While they scrubbed the windows and chatted, I slipped outside. The neglected yard cried out for attention. A quiet sense of satisfaction bloomed in me. Here I could make a difference. There were weeds to pull and bushes to be trimmed. Transforming the ugly exterior into a place that looked lived in would show the house was now occupied. I hoped the obvious change in ownership would make Cassie a bit safer in her new home. Encouraged, I transplanted massive clumps of monkey grass growing forgotten under a lonely oak, using them to edge the cracked front path. Among the weeds, pale spears of iris leaves showed straight and elegant. I knelt to clear away nut sedge and creeping Charlie. I had just pulled a large mat of purslane when a wavering voice addressed me.

  "Just past that over here, if you plan on throwing it in the compost pile!"

  Startled, I looked up to see a smiling, brown-skinned woman holding out her hand.

  I smiled back tentatively. "I was going to make soup," I told her, watching to see if she found this strange or shocking.

  Her gray head tilted as she examined me. "I guess my pot will go empty then," she said with a shrug.

  "Oh, there's plenty." I said quickly as I pulled up more and hurried to the fence. A warm feeling spread slowly inside me that she too knew the nutritious qualities of this plant.

  The woman took them with a quick thank you and then stopped, catching my hand in hers. Slowly, she turned it over, her finger tracing against my palm.