The Nothing House

by Cherie Mitchell

  “I know. Sorry. My flip-flops slipped on the pedal.”

  “Hmmmph.” The cop glares at me and looks into the back at the kids before stepping back from the side of the car. “Get out. Bring your driver’s license.”

  I clamp my lips shut so I don’t let out an overdrawn sigh. I can already see where this is going. The cop will keep us here for as long as he can, asking Liam all sorts of unnecessary questions, before giving him a fine for some ridiculous amount of money. It will put Liam in a bad mood for the rest of the day, the shopping trip will be a dead end, we’ll all end up back home without half the stuff we need and none of us will be talking to each other.

  Liam reaches past me to open the glove box to get his license. He shoots me an ‘I’ll take care of it’ glance. I sure hope he’s right.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The cop is just another Sheriff Milroy, just another arrogant jerk in a uniform. I knew it. He asks Liam about one billion questions, he radios in somewhere to check Liam’s records, and then he finally writes him a ticket. He then decides that the kids and I need a lecture about riding in a car with someone ‘inappropriately dressed for driving’. Seriously. I have to force myself not to roll my eyes at him but he’s finally done and he says we can go.

  Liam is as shitty as a cross-eyed rattlesnake by the time he slides back in behind the wheel. “Bastard,” he growls. “He could’ve just given me a warning. We didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “How much is the fine?”

  Liam shoves the ticket at me and I grimace when I see the amount scrawled across it. I mean, it’s not as if we don’t have the money but it’s the principle. It wouldn’t have hurt the cop to let Liam off with a warning, especially as he has an unblemished record up until now.

  We drive in silence to the hardware store. Even Organza is quiet. Maybe she understands she’ll get her head bitten off if she starts yammering and trying to draw the attention back to herself. Liam exhales as he switches off the engine in the parking lot. “I really didn’t need that. Not after the bad night’s sleep we got last night.”

  “It’s okay. It’s done now. We’ll go and get what we need then we can head over to the shoe store. I think I saw one on East Street when we were in town yesterday. Maybe we’ll have time to stop off for a coffee.” I’ve got my best supportive girlfriend voice on. I don’t want him stewing over this for the rest of the day, not when I have the beginnings of a headache prodding at my temples.

  “Can we go to the waffle house?” pipes up Organza from the back.

  “Don’t ask or you won’t get,” I say. “Get out, kids. You can help us carry all the stuff we buy.”

  It takes a lot longer than I expected to get the things we need from the hardware store. It’s one of those gigantic warehouse places, with aisles nearly a mile long. Or at least that’s what they feel like. It’s kind of hard to find what we’re looking for, too. We really need a map or maybe a tour guide to help us find our way around.

  Anyway, by the time we’ve spent an hour and a half wandering up and down, locating tools and equipment, choosing paint, and ordering cuts of wood, I’m over the whole thing. I just want to go home and lie down in a dark room with a damp cloth on my forehead. I don’t generally get headaches, at least not this bad.

  Liam’s grunting and shoving as he tries to fit everything in the back of the car, Organza and Reece have started bickering, and I want to be anywhere but here. I move away from the others to stand in the shade of the fence. It’s hot today, hotter than I thought it would be, and we’ve been out for longer than we intended. We still need to get Liam some shoes – we can’t risk him driving home in his flip-flops – and I know we need to stop off for a snack and a drink before the kids get too tetchy.

  Something heavy lands on the top of the fence beside me and I look up into the dark, inquisitive gaze of a crow. It’s acting remarkably unafraid, as if it’s either used to humans or doesn’t know how horrible they can be. I’ve never seen one this close before and I’m admiring its dark feathers. They’re almost blue, with a shimmery effect that I hadn’t realized could be so pretty until I saw it up close. I’ve never been too big on birds. It might have something to do with the sudden movements they can make, or maybe it’s because they look a little like enormous house flies. Especially the black ones.

  What happens next happens so quickly that there’s no way I could have seen it coming. The bird jumps, or leaps, or whatever it is that birds do when they’re sitting just a foot away from your face, and scratches at my cheek with its claw before flapping away. I don’t scream. I think I’m in too much shock to do that. I slap my hand onto my scratched cheek, wondering if it even really happened but when I pull my hand away and see the bright drops of blood, I know it’s for real.

  I look over at the car but Liam is still hunched over the trunk trying to get the last paint pail in and the kids are already belted into their seats in the back. None of them saw the bird attack me. I hold my hand against my cheek and peer up at the sky, searching for the crow, but there’s no sign of it now. My scratched cheek feels hot and itchy beneath my fingers and I wonder if birds’ claws can give you rabies. Maybe I should get it checked.

  “Ellie? Are you ready?” Liam is standing by the driver’s door now, his face pulled down into a scowl. He’s impatient to get going and I can’t say that I blame him. Shopping for hardware and renovation supplies wears thin after the first half hour or so.

  “Yeah.” I wipe the sleeve of my sweatshirt across my face, not caring that the blood will leave a stain there. This sweatshirt is old, it’s my renovating top, and a few spots of blood won’t make any difference to the overall look of it. I saunter across to where Liam’s waiting, wondering if I can pretend I never had the altercation with the crow. My sister is the one who likes drama, not me. I don’t need a fuss made around me and I seldom seek one out. Yeah, I have my blow-out moments, who doesn’t, but I always make sure that the thing I’m stomping my feet over is worth it.

  Liam gives me an odd look as I climb into the car beside him. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, just a bit of a headache.” I stare straight ahead, glad that my scratched cheek is facing away from him, and wait for him to start the car.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I cheer up a bit once we reach the shoe store. There’s a poster advertising tennis shoes in the window and I can see at once that those legs (there is no face attached to the image) belong to my old friend Tubby Bayfield. I mean, Dave. He goes by the name Dave now and he makes a decent living as a foot model. I point the poster out to Liam and the kids and they’re interested for a few seconds before dispersing to seek out their own favorite type of shoes in the store. Shoe stores are like that. A group of people might walk in together but they always split up once they’re inside to go looking at the shoes they like best, even if they have no intention of buying any. I call it a Sole Reaction.

  I stop to look at ankle boots for a few minutes before going to find the rest of my family. Liam is sitting on a low stool surrounded by several boxes of sneakers and he’s happily trying a pair on. Reece is engrossed in a pair of leather biker boots with lots of buckles but I can’t see Organza from where I’m standing.

  I head over toward the sign saying Heels & Glamor. If Organza is anywhere in the store, this is where she’ll be. I walk around the end of a stand displaying a range of high heeled, silver ho-shoes and there she is. And she’s not alone. She’s perched on another one of those low stools that are supposed to make it easy to try footwear on and that creepy guy from the hotel is leaning back against the shoe rack and watching as she buckles on a pair of six-inch-high, silver ho-shoes.

  “Organza,” I say, loudly and authoritatively, hoping both Organza and el creepo pay attention. “We should be going.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she says without looking up. “Just let me try these on.”

  Creepy guy looks me up and down and then, clearly unimpressed by what he’s seeing, he turns his focus back on
Organza. “They look great on you, sweetie. Do a walk up and down the aisle and see how they feel.”

  Organza beams, delighted to be the center of someone’s universe even if it is a random, shifty-looking man, and she staggers to her feet. El creepo puts out a grubby hand to assist her and I’m over there beside them in an instant. “My sister doesn’t need your help. Come on, Organza.”

  Creepy guy ignores me. “Organza? Pretty name for a pretty girl. Go for a walk, sweetie. Up to the end of the aisle and back. I wanna watch.”

  Organza giggles and struts off, her uneven walk in the unaccustomed high heels making her hips swing. El creepo does a long, low whistle and that’s it. I’m done. I’m not putting up with any more of this. I thrust my face up close to his and say through gritted teeth, “She’s 14. Back off, buddy.”

  Creepy guy frowns at me, as if I’m a bug that’s buzzed too close, and he looks as if he wants to swat me out of the way. “I’m not hurting anyone. Take a hike.”

  Organza has reached the end of the aisle and she spins around, wobbling dangerously, before starting back. She’s grinning like the Cheshire cat and I just know she’s imagining herself as a Victoria’s Secret model on the catwalk in front of an audience of admirers. I step out in front of her to prevent her walking back to where creepy guy is waiting. “Take them off. You’re not getting them. Mom would have a fit if I sent you back home with those.”

  She looks past me, smiling for her audience of one. “He told me they look nice.”

  “He’s a dirty old man. He’s at least ten years older than you. You don’t want dirty old men thinking you look nice, do you?” I push her down onto one of the stools. “Get them off. It’s time to go. We’ll have a snack somewhere and then we’re going back to the house.”

  Organza pouts but she bends to undo the buckle anyway. I feel creepy guy walk up behind me and now he’s standing so close that I can feel his breath on my neck. “I remember you now. You and your boyfriend rented a room the other night. We all know what you wanted a hotel room for.” He does this nasty snigger, loaded with innuendo and spite.

  I whirl around to face him and he doesn’t back off. I can see every pockmark on his creepy face, along with the spidery red veins in his eyes and the angry-looking scab on the side of his nose. “Get lost. You have no right to talk to me like that and I’m telling you now, if I ever see you sniffing around my sister again I’m calling the police.”

  He throws his head back and cackles. “You do that. Me and Officer Leonard go back a looooonnnng way. I’m sure he’d love to hear your complaints about me. It will give us something to laugh about over our beer.”

  “Ellie? What’s going on?” I’m relieved to see Liam appear around the side of the stand of ho-shoes. He has a sneaker box tucked under one arm and Reece is with him.

  “We’re coming. Organza is just taking these shoes off.” I pretend that creepy guy doesn’t exist and I can see out of the corner of my eye that he’s stepped a few feet away now that Liam is here.

  “Done!” Organza bounces back onto her feet and thrusts the ho-shoes at me as if I’m one of her servants. “You can go put them back if you won’t let me buy them.”

  Creepy guy sidles away and disappears around the end of the aisle. I walk towards Liam, ready to put the ho-shoes back with the others on the display, and I see he’s looking at me strangely. “What?”

  “What have you done to your face?” He reaches out a hand to touch the crow scratch and I quickly turn my head away. “It’s nothing. Scratched it on a piece of wood that was jutting out too far at the hardware store. Have you found the shoes you want? Can we go now?”

  “Yeah.” Liam gives me one last concerned look before I follow him over to the checkout counter. I just want to get out of here and go home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The remainder of our outing passes remarkably uneventfully and I’m pleased about that. We stopped and grabbed some takeout burger and fries on the way back to Pannier Street, which kept the kids and Liam happy, and I went to have a lie down while they ate.

  I dozed off for a while and slept for maybe an hour or so. When I wake up I’m feeling disorientated and for a few seconds, I think I’m back in my dorm room at Berkeley. I roll over and stare at the closed door, trying to understand where my poster of the Amazonian rainforest has gone before I remember where I am.

  The house is quiet. Real quiet considering Organza is currently living here. I get up, suddenly feeling panicky, and rush out of the room and down the hall to the living room. Organza looks up from where she’s sitting on the sofa playing with her phone. “You’re awake. We didn’t leave you any food.”

  “I’m not hungry. Where are Liam and Reece?”

  “Outside. Fixing the front fence or something.” She yawns, opening her mouth astonishingly wide and showing me her back teeth. “I’m bored.”

  “No need to be bored. There are plenty of things to do. You can come and help me strip back the wallpaper in your bedroom, if you like. We have to get it all down so Liam can sand the wall before we paint it.”

  She screws up her nose. “I meant I wanted something fun to do.”

  “Renovating is fun. You’ve already had your outing for the day and we’re not going back into town. If you don’t want to help with the wallpaper in your room, I’ll start in Reece’s room.”

  She shrugs and I can see I’m not about to get any help with the wallpaper stripping. “If you don’t want to help out you can go do something in the kitchen. There are four of us to feed in this house and I’m not ordering out for every meal.”

  Finally, I see a spark of interest in those long-lashed, pretty eyes of hers. “I can bake?”

  “Yeah. Go make a chocolate cake or a banana cream pie. The ingredients should be there for either of those. Liam will love you for it.”

  She dances out to the kitchen, taking her phone with her, and I walk outside to find the others. They’re not at the front fence but I can see that Liam has replaced a couple of the peeling pickets with some brand new, unpainted ones.

  I walk under the branches of the oak tree, deliberately averting my eyes from the place where the possum was smeared, and step around the side of the house. Liam and Reece are standing in front of the overgrown patch of garden and I stop to observe them before they notice me. Liam has his hands on his hips and Reece is doing the same, replicating the stance of his hero. It’s so cute. Liam is good with Reece; he seems to know when to approach him and when to leave him be. I know Reece appreciates that and I’m glad that he’s here with us instead of back with Roger who hasn’t even tried to understand him.

  I don’t know how long I stand before I’m aware that something is watching me. You know when you get that almost physical feeling that someone’s eyes are on your skin? I’m standing still now, as still as a statue, and I’m keeping my breathing low and quiet. Part of me wants to run across the lawn to where Liam is standing with his back to me and the other part is determined to stay here and deal with whatever it is creeping up behind me. Hey, I dealt with flesh-eating zombies and survived it, didn’t I? And I was just a kid back then.

  I shut my eyes for the briefest of moments and whisper the first few lines of the Lord’s Prayer. Yeah, I still do that sometimes when I’m stressed. It helps me, okay? ‘Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...’

  Whatever it is behind has pulled back a little. It’s still watching me, though, I can still feel that. Watching me from somewhere near the trunk of the oak tree. Mom used to pretend she had eyes in the back of her head whenever I was naughty when I was little and I sure wish I had those backward-facing eyes now. I could take a peek without moving from my spot, my spot that gives me a clear run into Liam’s arms if something bad happens and I need to run.

  I keep repeating the words of the prayer as I clench my hands into fists and slowly, slowly turn around. I don’t see anything at first, at least nothing but the oak tree. It’s one of those broad and sturdy trees, proba
bly three or four times my age or more. Maybe it’s the same age as the house but it could even be older than that. Perhaps the person who built this house decided it’d be pleasant to park the dwelling up alongside those attractively spreading branches. Those are the sort of things I’ll consider when I finally reach my dream to be a house builder.

  Anyway, all of these thoughts are ricocheting around my brain as I’m staring at the tree trunk and chanting the Lord’s Prayer, but it takes me a minute or two to notice the knothole in the trunk. It’s slightly above eye level, my eye level at least, and it’s one of those knotholes that looks as if it’s part of the bark at first glance. However, if you look closer you can see that it’s an actual hole that’s boring into the center of the tree. I’m staring at it now and sudden cold fingers of dread stroke the back of my neck when I finally see that there’s something inside the hole. And that something is staring right back at me with red, burning eyes.

  Obidiah.

  To me there’s no mistaking it’s him; not in a hundred million years. I’ve had nightmares about those red eyes for years, and more hours of therapy with Dr. McIntyre than I care to count. I hiss the Lord’s Prayer at those eyes now, throwing the words out like hand grenades, and in half a millisecond they’re gone as if they never were. I stare at the knothole, willing him to come back, but now the dark patch just looks like an ordinary old knothole of no more than a half an inch in depth. Wouldn’t even reach halfway up the first joint of my finger if I poked it in.

  “Ellie?” I turn at the sound of Liam’s voice, forcing a smile onto my face. I’m keeping what I’ve seen to myself for now, at least until I’ve had time to sort out my thoughts.

  Liam is staring at me, looking horrified. No, he’s looking revolted. “What the hell has happened to your cheek?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the bird earlier?”