The Nothing House

by Cherie Mitchell

  Organza looks as if she’s nearly asleep as we walk back through the living room. I grin at Reece as I push his bedroom door open. Liam hung a sheet over the window to make a curtain and the lamp we bought at Sal’s Dollar Store is glowing yellow in the corner. My little brother chose an American flag-themed bedcover from Mr. Devall’s store - can you believe it? I see now that he’s made his bed and he’s unpacked his suitcase, stacking all his books on the two-drawer cabinet beside his bed in a perfectly neat pile.

  Then I’m not looking at any of that for any more than half a second. Instead, I’m looking at Nostradamus the rocking horse, that old wooden horse that weighs near to a ton. I know that because I tried to shift it earlier and I couldn’t do it without Liam’s help. The horse is sitting in the middle of the bed, as docile as a bedtime stuffed teddy and staring back at us with its wild, insane eyes.

  I can’t tear my gaze away as I feel a once-familiar bucket of ice drop down my back and trickle in shivery clumps down my spine. “Shit. Shit-a-roonie.”

  Chapter Ten

  Reece swears he didn’t move the rocking horse up onto his bed and I have to believe him. He’s scrawny and small for his age, he always has been, and he doesn’t have a lot of personal strength. He seems as startled as we are when I drag him off the sofa and pull him into his bedroom to look. “I didn’t put him up there,” he protests. “He’s supposed to be sitting by the curtains and waiting for me to come to bed.”

  Organza is wide awake now and of course she has an opinion. “It was Liam,” she says, giving him her best death stare. “He’s just trying to scare us.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Liam was out in the kitchen and living room the whole time. He never once got up and went into Reece’s room.” Yeah, I know I sound snappish and shrill but this whole situation has put me on edge. I’m not fond of inanimate objects moving by themselves. Honestly, who is?

  “It wasn’t me.” Liam is still staring at Nostradamus, just like he has done since we first walked into Reece’s room. “I don’t understand how it could get up there.”

  I glance at Reece but he’s looking past everyone and gazing at the broken door to the closet. “Can you fix that?” he asks. “Can someone fix that hole in the door before I go to bed tonight? I don’t like it. It makes me feel cold.”

  “It needs a new door, Reece. We have to get stuff from the hardware store before Liam can fix it.” I don’t like the look on Reece’s face. He’s too pale and still, and he’s drawn his brows down into a deep vee. Reece doesn’t generally show much emotion so the way he’s behaving right now is out of character.

  “I can tack a blanket over it,” Liam offers. “Or a spare sheet. Cover it up so you don’t see it.”

  “Yes, do that. Go get a sheet out of the cupboard in the hallway.” I give Liam a gentle shove to hurry him along. Something about this house doesn’t feel fun anymore and I just want things to go back to how they were before we discovered the rocking horse in the middle of the bed.

  Liam leaves the room and I turn to Organza, who has been remarkably quiet for the entire past 30 seconds. “Help me lift the horse down and we’ll put it back where it belongs.”

  “Me? Why me? Why can’t Reece do it? It’s not my stupid horse and it’s not my stupid room. I’m going to bed.”

  Organza spins around and starts to leave but I grab her by the shoulder to stop her. “You’ll help me,” I hiss. “Remember that oak tree branch is waiting. It’s a great night to take a naked swing in the moonlight.”

  “I can help.” Reece jumps up onto the mattress and the horse lists toward him, as if it’s about to give him a big, smacking kiss on the lips with its terrifying face. “I can hold its head.”

  Organza helps in the end, although she whines and complains all the way through the lifting and settling of Nostradamus in its spot by the window. Reece strokes the horse’s ratty mane and whispers something in its tatted ear as Liam returns with a sheet and some thumbtacks. He quickly covers the gaping hole in the broken closet door and gazes with satisfaction at his handiwork. “There, it’s done. You should rest easy tonight, Reece.”

  “Yeah, you little cry baby,” Organza stage whispers, just loud enough for us all to hear, before whirling around and stomping out of the room. A few seconds later, we hear her bedroom door slam and the sound bounces up the hallway in an echoing volley of teenage angst.

  Liam and I share a look before I turn my attention back to Reece. He’s humming to himself as he rearranges his books on his bedside cabinet, ensuring that the spines are perfectly aligned. I need to talk to him about why Mom decided to send him out here. “Reece, how about you and I have a little chat?”

  “Night, Reece. See you in the morning.” Liam hastily leaves the room, clearly not keen on staying around for any kind of domestic heart to heart.

  “He doesn’t like you, Ellie. He remembers.” Reece’s voice sounds singsong and odd, not like his normal voice at all. He has his back to me and I can’t see the expression on his face.

  “Reece? What are you talking about, hun?” It’s been a long day for all of us. Reece is probably half asleep, doing that awake-dreaming thing that sometimes happens when a person is really tired.

  “He’s back and he remembers. He said he never really went away but he’s finding his strength again. In this house. This house is helping him.” Reece spins around and for a fleeting instant, the light from the lamp casts deep, shadowy crags and valleys over his face. He doesn’t look anything like my little brother. He looks like someone I wouldn’t want to know, not ever.

  “Who’s back? Roger?” I need to find out what’s been going on between Mom’s boyfriend and Reece. If he’s done anything to hurt him, I swear I’ll make him wish he’d never been born.

  “What?” Reece blinks sleepily at me and stares around the room. “Where’d Liam go?”

  “He said goodnight.” I sit on the edge of the bed and pull Reece closer so that he’s leaning against my knees. “Reece, do you want to tell me anything about what’s been happening back at Mom’s house? You know you can tell me anything.”

  Reece shrugs. “Roger thinks I should be out riding my bike and playing sports. I don’t like those things too much, Ellie. I like reading and I like computer games.”

  “And those things are just fine. Don’t let anyone try to change you, Reece. You’re perfect as you are.” I give him a quick hug, noticing how frail his body feels beneath my hands.

  “I think he wishes I was more like a normal boy,” Reece says wistfully.

  “You are a normal boy. If Roger thinks differently, that’s his problem and not yours. Do you want me to have a talk to Mom?”

  “No. It’s not that bad.” He gives me a grin that turns my heart to jello. “The main reason I wanted to come out here was to see you.”

  “And I’m glad you did.” I stand up and ruffle his hair, pleased that there’s nothing too dastardly hiding behind Reece’s sudden departure from Mom’s house. “I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll take a trip into town to the hardware store and Liam can get the stuff to fix the closet properly.”

  “Okay, Ellie.” He’s already focused his attention back on straightening his books. I throw one last uncertain glance at Nostradamus and leave Reece’s room. A good night’s sleep is all we need – tomorrow is going to be another busy day.

  Chapter Eleven

  Yeah, I was probably throwing hope into the wind when I wished for a good night’s sleep. It starts off well enough. I take my first shower in our bathroom but I won’t say it’s the best shower I’ve ever had. There’s something wrong with the water pressure and the water kind of just drip-spurts out of the shower head but Liam reckons he can fix it. Anyway, the new fluffy towels make up for the average quality of the shower and then it’s time to slip between the sheets of our first ever queen-size bed.

  Liam is already in bed and he holds his arms out for me as I climb in. He puts on this fake monster voice, accompanied by a maniacal laugh. “We
lcome to the house of fun, my precious.”

  “Hey.” I’m feeling soft and drowsy, ready for sleep. I don’t want to play monsters, not now.

  Liam picks up on my mood and drops the fake voice. “How did your chat with Reece go?”

  “It went fine. He said Roger thinks he should act differently than he does but other than that, there’s no real problem between them.”

  “He should act differently? How?”

  “You’ve met Reece. You can see he’s not the most outgoing or testosterone-fueled of kids. He’s not out there hitting home runs or climbing trees. He prefers doing quieter, inside types of things and Roger is finding that hard to understand.”

  “Speaking of home runs…”

  I slap his hand away. “Not now. I’m so tired. Maybe in the morning, huh?” I kiss him to show him that I mean what I say.

  He’s the first one to pull away from the kiss, which is unusual. “How do you think the rocking horse got onto the bed? Do you think it was Organza and Reece playing a prank?”

  “Yeah,” I say, although I don’t believe it. Unfortunately, I know weird, otherworldly things when I see them but I’m hoping it’s just a one-off.

  Liam snuggles into me and shuts his eyes. “Goodnight, Ellie.”

  I’m nearly asleep when I hear it. The most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever heard in my life and I’m telling you now, I’ve heard my share of screams. I’m sitting bolt upright in an instant, awake and alert, and Liam is right there beside me, a familiar dark shadow in the gloom of the room. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah, I heard it.” He flips on the bedside light as he flings back the bedcover and grabs his phone from the bedside table. “Stay there.”

  No way. I’m not cowering under the bedcover like a terrified little old lady while my boyfriend checks out what’s happening elsewhere in the house. I have to know what’s going on for myself. I’m right behind Liam as he picks up a broom from where it’s still propped up against the wall from our earlier cleaning blitz and opens the door.

  “It might be Organza. Check her first. We already know she’s a screamer.” I’m hoping that’s what it is, just Organza having a drama queen moment. I flip on the light switch in the hallway as we pass. Light is good in scary situations. We all know that.

  Liam shoves open the door to Organza’s room and jumps inside, holding the broom up like a spear. Shit-a-roonie, if it wasn’t her screaming before she’ll definitely be screaming when she sees him leaping into her room like that. However, Organza is dead to the world and snoring softly beneath her princess bedcover. I walk over and check her face in the light from the hallway, just to be sure. My sister looks like an angel when she sleeps and I feel a pang of guilt over how I spoke to her earlier. I shake my head at Liam. “It wasn’t her.”

  We tiptoe back out of her bedroom and head down to the living room. There’s been no other sound since the scream that woke us up, not a squeak. I can hear the noise of the branches of the oak tree scrabbling against the windows in the wind but other than that, nothing. Liam turns on the living room light and we both hear a pop as one of the bulbs blows out.

  Reece’s door is shut and I’m about to trot over there when Liam grabs at my hand. “Look.”

  I follow the direction of his pointing finger and I’m surprised to see that the front door is open. “Did you lock it before we went to bed?”

  “No. I thought you did.” He drops my hand and walks over to the front door but I need to check on Reece first. I push open his door to see Nostradamus staring at me from where we sat him by the window. Reece has left his lamp on and the room is bathed in a warm, friendly glow. Reece is curled up with his face planted into the pillow, looking about six-years-old in his sleep. I stoop to drop a kiss onto his forehead and I’m brought up short by the sight of something that jolts at my memory banks. It’s Reece’s bunny blankie, back from when he was a little boy named Timmy and he lived in a house with a nothing-room. Well, it’s not his entire bunny blankie, it’s just a scrap of the fabric and most of the bunnies are washed out now, but the fact that he still has it makes me sad for some reason.

  “Ellie? Come and see this.” Liam’s voice drifts into the bedroom and I hurry out and shut the door behind me, before he wakes up Reece with his noise.

  The front door is still wide open and I guess Liam is out there. In the dark. I stand on the step, unsure if I should follow him. There’s an outside light but it isn’t working. I flip it up and down about half a dozen times anyway. “Liam?”

  “I’m over by the oak tree.”

  “I can’t see anything.”

  A rectangle of light appears in the darkness. Liam’s phone. I step down onto the dewy grass and walk over in my bare feet, suddenly feeling chilled. I’m only wearing an old t-shirt of Liam’s and not much else and the wind is whipping around the side of the house like a she-devil on steroids. “What are you looking at?”

  “This.” He’s not giving much away. I hurry over to join him, wanting to get this over with so we can go inside and get back to bed. However as soon as I see what he’s looking at, where it lies smeared greasily across the roots of the oak tree, I know it will be some time before I’ll be able to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  “What do you mean?” Organza, sleepy-eyed and tousle-headed, is peering at me over the top of her mug of hot chocolate. I’ve been trying to tell the kids while they eat their breakfast about what Liam and I found last night but Organza is being deliberately obtuse. She does this sometimes. I think it’s all part of her ploy to constantly be the center of attention.

  “I mean exactly what I just said. Something or someone dug up the opossum that Liam buried in the garden yesterday and um, decorated the roots of the oak tree with it.” Decorated is a nice word for what I actually saw. Every last bit of that opossum, from its fur to its guts, was painted across those gnarly old roots. It was as if a child got hold of a paint pot and went crazy with it but the part that got to me the most was how that old, dead, rotten thing could suddenly seem so liquid. From what I saw of the body before Liam removed it, that opossum was pretty much in one piece before it became a bloody top coat for those twisting, tangled tree roots.

  “Eeeeewww. Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know.” I glance at Reece, who is sitting in the armchair and hasn’t said a word since he got up. He’s pushing his spoon around his cereal bowl, where he’s piled some strawberry yoghurt on top of a serving of Wheaties, and I have to look away. That soft strawberry flesh looks a bit too much like what we saw last night for my liking.

  “What were you doing outside in the dark anyway?” Organza asks. Her eyes gleam. “Were you guys kissing?”

  “We don’t have to go outside if we want to kiss. This is our house and we can do whatever we want in it.” I have a sudden need to remind my sister of her place here but I know I have to stop doing this, stop letting her get under my skin. I tell myself she’s just a kid going through a phase until I remember she’s been going through a phase since she was born.

  Reece speaks at last. “It’s a warning.”

  Both Organza and I turn to stare at him. “What are you saying, Reece? A warning about what?” I keep my voice steady but my stomach is clenching. He’s got that same weird, singsong-y tone to his voice again.

  “Huh?” Reece gazes at me with his wide, round eyes, like he used to do when he was a little kid. I’m half expecting him to stick his thumb into his mouth to end the conversation, the same as he did when he was three.

  “You said it’s a warning. What warning? What were you talking about?”

  He seems puzzled, as if I’ve just announced to him that I’m running for President. He shakes his head at me and goes back to playing with his cereal.

  “He’s just being a spazz-head,” Organza says. She looks over at the hallway door. “Are we going shopping as soon as Liam’s finished in the shower?”

  “Yeah, I guess. We need to pay a visit to the hardw
are store and Liam needs some new shoes.”

  His shoes are ruined from dealing with that slimy old opossum. He went back inside to get a sweatshirt and his shoes after we found it on the tree roots, saying he wanted to re-bury it before the kids saw it in the morning. Turns out it’s hard to remove a painted-on opossum from the roots of an oak tree without dropping globules of it all over your sneakers.

  Half an hour later, we’re herding the kids out into the car ready to drive back downtown. I’m itching to get started on the renovations but there’s a lot of stuff we have to buy first. Hammers, nails, filler, putty, screws, a ladder, sheets of plywood, paint – the list goes on. We won’t get it all today but we’ll make a start on it.

  Liam is wearing a pair of flip-flops after throwing his ruined sneakers in the trashcan. Unfortunately, they’re not the best choice of footwear for driving and he soon finds that out when he goes to apply the brake at a stop sign. His foot slips off the pedal and we go careening straight through, although we’re deadly lucky that no one is coming the other way.

  Where we’re not so lucky is that a cop in a cruiser is sitting parked against the curb as we go flying past without stopping. Liam groans as the cop switches on his siren and lights and pulls out onto the street. A great white shark chasing its prey. “Great. Just what we need to start the day.”

  I’m not too fond of cops. I think it goes back to the days of Sheriff Milroy in Warren’s End. I’m sure there are plenty of nice ones out there. It’s just that I’ve never met one.

  “What’s happening?” Organza is bouncing around on the back seat, caught up in the excitement of a possible drama. “What did Liam do?”

  “Sssssh, Organza. Keep quiet and let Liam speak to the officer.”

  We sit and wait for the cop to approach the window, which Liam has already wound all the way down. The officer stands outside the car and stoops to peer in. “You just went through a compulsory stop sign.”