The Nothing House

by Cherie Mitchell

  “She didn’t walk, Liam. She just said that.” Is it worth wasting any more of my energy trying to explain it? I have the feeling I’m going to need every last drop of that energy to deal with the circumstances we’ve now found ourselves in. I take a deep breath, feeling my lungs full and my chest tighten. “That isn’t our biggest problem, anyway. Our biggest problem are those nothings out there in the back yard.”

  Yeah, I’ll admit that I’m feeling pretty destroyed about those kid zombies. I went to so much trouble to determine that this land was unsullied and safe before we bought this house. The records we were given proved that this was just an old cornfield before the house was ever built. If that’s truly the case, how can it suddenly throw up a whole bunch of zombie children out of the dirt?

  “What nothings? What are you talking about?” Organza squints her eyes and sets her jaw. She might be annoying but she doesn’t let much get past her.

  “Did you really think I’d forget?” The voice sounds like nails on a blackboard coupled with a thousand rolling marbles and we all turn to stare in horror at Reece. He’s dropped his hand from where he was rubbing Organza’s back and he’s gazing straight back at us although I’m sure he can’t see us. He’s got those cling film eyeballs happening again and I can see from here that a tiny bit of drool is seeping out the corner of his mouth.

  “What the fuck?” Liam is really struggling with the events of today. He did a physics major at Berkeley and I know he likes things to make sense. His brain must feel like a plate of scrambled eggs right now as he tries to deal with all of this.

  I’m suddenly exhausted, completely over this entire shit tangle that is my life. “What do you want, Obidiah?”

  Reece throws his head back, or rather it looks as if someone has grabbed the back of his head and wrenched it back for him, and he lets out a peel of monstrous laughter. “I want to see you suffer, Angel. Simple as that.”

  Well, I guess I know where I stand.

  “Why is he talking like that?” Liam is taking far too long to catch up.

  Organza whimpers and edges herself backward across the bed, using her heels to move herself away from Reece. She remembers more than she lets on, I know she does.

  “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” It’s all that I have.

  We all shriek, even Reece, as Nostradamus flies up into the air and smashes against the ceiling before falling back down to the floor with a crash that shakes the house. The rocking horse’s wild eyes roll, they actually move and roll, and then a stream of green vomit projectiles out of its mouth and all across Liam’s new shoes.

  Liam does this cute little sigh and his eyes roll back in his head in a mockery of Nostradamus’s painted, wooden expression. I watch on helplessly as my boyfriend’s knees buckle and he collapses in a heap on the rug.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Liam says he doesn’t remember fainting. He’s still acting a little woozy but he swears he was conscious the whole time. “I just felt like having a rest.”

  Reece doesn’t remember Obidiah taking over his body and I’m more inclined to believe him than I am to believe Liam’s statement about not fainting. Reece has never reacted much after any of the Obidiah incidences. It’s like the essence of Reece takes a back seat when Obidiah steps in. Which is probably a good thing.

  We’re having crisis talks on the sofa, all four of us. Liam suggested throwing Nostradamus out on the lawn and sending a lit match out after him, but Reece was having none of it. Said it’s not the horse’s fault that Obidiah keeps moving it around and I guess he’s right.

  Organza opened the front door to see if there was a cop still standing guard and she said some crazy guy in a uniform yelled at her to get back inside and waved his gun in the air, so I suppose it’s fair to say we’re still under house arrest.

  We checked out the zombie kids again as Liam wondered why they weren’t coming around the front of the house. We can’t seem to find any reason for it – they reach the oak tree roots and they turn back so maybe they can see something that we can’t. I tell the others about my aborted conversation with Father Lucerne but I don’t mention making the phone call to Dave. I’m still smarting that he cut me off so quickly after I told him I needed to talk to him.

  “Bedeliah, Bedeliah, where is my soup?” It’s probably one of the more bizarre sentences I’ve ever heard come out of my boyfriend’s mouth.

  “What?”

  Liam looks startled, as if he wasn’t aware himself that he was going to speak before he said it. “Uh. It’s just something from back when I was a kid. Part of a campfire ghost story we used to tell when I was a Boy Scout. Not even sure why I said it.”

  “Ooookay.” Organza and I exchange a look, which is heartwarming in itself when you think about it. Organza and I don’t usually have the same thoughts and we’re even less likely to share them with each other when we do.

  “Obidiah,” Reece says firmly. “His name is Obidiah.”

  “I don’t think Liam was talking about him,” I say quickly. “Don’t mention that name if you can, Reece. You know it’s never a good idea.”

  “Bedeliah,” Liam says again, just drops it out there.

  “Liam, what’s going on? Why do you keep saying that?”

  “No reason.” He does a squirmy shift of his body on the sofa then leans over to pull a tissue from the box on the floor, hiding his face from me.

  “You’re lying.” Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been able to tell when people are lying. I used to think I could see their untruths flying around their heads like flappy brown and black moths. I don’t believe that I can see those ugly moths anymore but I do know I can still register those ugly lies as if they’ve physically manifested in front of me.

  Liam does this long, drawn out sigh that he half muffles with the tissue before loudly blowing his nose. I just wait. I have the time.

  Organza looks hopefully over at the kitchen, apparently feeling none the worse for her earlier teleport from the bedroom. “I’m hungry. Are we ordering in?”

  “No, we’re not ordering in. You can make pancakes if you want.” I haven’t taken my eyes off Liam. He’s hiding something and I want to get to the bottom of this.

  Liam finally stops honking into the tissue and drops it down onto the floor. He gives me a sidelong look to check if I’m still watching him and, when he sees that I am, he finally turns around to face me. “Okay. You win. I do know something.”

  “You’d better tell us.”

  He shoots a glance at Organza and Reece. “Maybe I should tell you in private.”

  “Tell me here. We’re all in this together.”

  Organza sits up straight, interested now. Trust her, she can always sniff out the merest hint of drama and if there’s a chance of front row seat she’s there with her popcorn.

  “I read something. About this town. Just after we bought the house. I didn’t show it to you because I thought it was probably fake news, something that someone made up just to scare people.”

  “Keep going.”

  He exhales and takes his time tucking his blanket around his knees. I wonder if it might be for the best if the kids are out of the room after all. I poke Organza in the ribs. “I thought you were going to make pancakes.”

  She pulls herself out of poking range and glares at me. “I never said that. You said it, not me.”

  “So, anyway.” Liam is back to his story but this time he jumps into it and keeps going. “I read this story online about Gypsy Creek. You know how the town was named after that woman who ran the orphanage? Gypsy Latham?”

  I nod. None of this is news to me. “Well, according to this article she had someone evil working for her at the orphanage. She had a maid named Bedelia Farnsworth and it turns out she was some kind of psycho. Hated kids and she was quietly doing away with them while Gypsy’s back was turned.” He raises his eyes to meet mine and I can see the mountains of guilt piled up in there. “She was also Jonathon Wheel
er’s illicit lover.”

  Cogs are turning in my head, turning and clicking, and I’m busily building a mental contraption that I’m not yet sure I want to ride in.

  “Who are these people?” Organza asks, obviously miffed that the story isn’t as riveting as she’d hoped. “I don’t know who any of these people are.”

  “Sssshhh. Liam, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I have a nasty, dry taste in my mouth, like I’ve just licked lead paint off a wall and it’s coating my tongue with its poison.

  He nods miserably. “Yes.”

  And then my phone rings.

  Chapter Thirty

  It’s Mr. Devall from the furniture store. He sounds jovial and happy, a jolly spark of brightness in all of this madness. “Is that you, Ellie?”

  “Hi, Mr. Devall.” I’m half expecting him to say he’s calling because Mom’s check bounced. It’s just that kind of day.

  “Hey, I found one of those TV cabinets you wanted out the back. I can drop it off on my way home if you like.”

  “Uh, sure. That’d be great. You can leave it by the mailbox.”

  “The mailbox?” He chuckles, sounding just like Santa joking around with one of the elves. Ho, ho, ho. “No, no, no, I’ll bring it inside for you. I’d like to see the house. That’s if you don’t mind,” he adds quickly.

  “Uh, we have the measles. We’re in quarantine, complete with an armed policeman at the gate to make sure we don’t start spreading it around.”

  “What?” He sounds appalled and I like him even more right at this moment. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately I am. Office Leonard said it’s not fair if we come out and infect the town.”

  He makes a hoicking noise, as if he’s swirling up a big globule of saliva in his mouth before he spits it somewhere. “That darned Eddie Leonard. Always was too big for his boots. Well, I’m coming in anyway.”

  “But you might catch the measles.” I don’t want the nice Mr. Devall to get Organza and Liam’s horrible spotty disease.

  “No, I had my jabs. My father was the town doctor, may he rest in peace, and he was very much pro-vaccination. I’ll be there at around 4.30, after I close up shop. That suit you?”

  “Yeah, it’s not as if we’re going anywhere.”

  “Right you are.” He hangs up with a determined click and I drop the phone into my lap. “Mr. Devall is bringing over our TV cabinet. Says he’s been vaccinated against the measles.”

  Organza rises haughtily up from the sofa, a spotty 4’11” phoenix arising from the ashes. “I’m gonna do some baking. I’m bored.”

  “Did we have lunch?” This is first thing Reece has said since refusing to allow Liam to throw his rocking horse outside.

  “No, we didn’t have lunch. You can go heat something up if you want.” I’m not looking at Reece, I’m looking at Liam and signaling with my eyes that We. Have. To. Talk.

  Reece skips off out to the kitchen with his sister and I settle back against the sofa cushions, prepared to hash this out. As far as I’m concerned, my boyfriend has kept life-threatening information from me and I need to know why.

  “I’m sorry,” he starts but I hold up my hand to stop him before he wanders off down that poor-me track. “I don’t want apologies. I want reasons.”

  “I didn’t think it was going to be such a big deal and you were so excited about the house.”

  “You can see what’s happened, can’t you? Bedeliah murdered those kids and buried them in the cornfield.” I glance over at the window that overlooks the backyard, where the curtain is now tightly closed. “The cornfield that is now our garden.”

  “You have to cut me some slack, Ellie. There was nothing in the article to suggest that she’d done that. I don’t think anyone knew what she’d done with the bodies.”

  “Maybe not, but if you’d told me about it I could’ve made a decision based on what we knew.” I drop my head into my hands, devastated to find myself in this position all over again.

  “At least you know what you’re facing,” Liam says helpfully. “It’s not as if you’re walking into this blind.”

  “Don’t be such an idiot.” I pull my hands away from my face and shove myself forward so my nose is almost touching Liam’s. He draws away, frowning at me. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a good look at an imbecile.” I get up and start pacing around the room, unable to keep myself still. “Liam, you have no idea of the danger we’re in.”

  “There’s a cop with a gun standing in front of the house. Let the police deal with it.”

  “I don’t have much faith in the police, especially these small town cops. I saw my own father beg Sheriff Milroy for help and I saw that help refused. Sheriff Milroy couldn’t get out of there quick enough when he saw the zombies coming down the hill and he had the power to save us.” The memory is back, as clear as if it were yesterday, and I get that same sick feeling I felt when I saw the rear lights of Milroy’s cruiser disappearing down the road.

  “Not every cop is like that coward Milroy.” Liam gets up from the sofa and marches over to the door. “I’m going out there to talk to him.”

  “Good luck,” I say bleakly. I don’t have a good feeling about this but I don’t have the strength to try and stop him. Sometimes people need to find things out for themselves.

  It takes about 20 seconds from the time Liam steps out the door until I hear the shot. I scream, Organza screams from the kitchen, and Reece runs into the living room and heads for the door.

  “Reece, no!” I’m over there in two strides, yanking my brother back and pushing him out of the way. Liam is back inside the door a millisecond later, pale as death and shaking like an acrophobic on a high wire. “He shot at me! He actually aimed his gun and shot at me!”

  I throw myself into Liam’s arms, feeling his body tremble and shake beneath my hands, and I’m so mad that I want to spit. The only positive part of all of this is the fact that cop out there was such a poor shot, but what if he wasn’t? Liam could’ve been lying out there dead on the ground and what would I do without him?

  Organza is crying beside me, Reece is pacing and muttering under his breath, and I’m suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

  Can I honestly put myself through this again?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  We’re all sitting around listlessly, subdued and quiet. The TV isn’t on and the cupcakes Organza made are left pretty much untouched and uneaten on the coffee table. That cop shooting at Liam was a shock but I should’ve expected it, and I don’t even know if anyone else but us is yet aware of the zombie kids in the backyard. I know from experience that our life will get a whole lot worse once that news gets out.

  Organza kicks her foot at the leg of the coffee table. “This stinks.”

  “I know.” I have considered trying to send the kids back home to Mom but somehow I don’t think Mr. Shoot ‘Em Up at the gate is going to take kindly to us traipsing past him to go to the airport. Besides, I have the vague idea that airlines don’t let people who have measles fly for risk of infection. I haven’t called Mom yet to tell her what’s happening out the back of the house. I guess I still need to come to terms with it myself before I start discussing the finer details with my mother.

  “How did you kill the zombies last time?” Liam asks. “Was it the fire that killed them or the holy water?”

  “It wasn’t real holy water. Mom and I made it without knowing what we were doing. I think it made us feel better to have it but I doubt that it had any effect. As far as I know, the wildfire that started after we lit the house on fire was the only thing capable of wiping them out.”

  “So if we burn this house down…”

  “NO!” I’m practically shouting the word. “I am NOT burning this house down! We’re in a slightly different situation this time around – as soon as we’re out of quarantine we can leave and go find someone to help us.”

  “That’s only if we haven’t been torn to shreds by the kinde
rgarten of horrors out the back,” he says glumly.

  Reece gets up and walks out of the room without saying anything, maybe he’s going to the bathroom or something. I watch him go, sad to see his hunched shoulders and dragging footsteps. I know he’s blaming himself for bringing Obidiah here but how was he to know that Liam and I had bought a house on top of an ancient mass grave?

  “Was she a serial killer?” Organza asks.

  “Who, Bedeliah? I guess you’d have to call her that.” I turn to Liam. “Can you show us the article you read?”

  Liam goes to get the laptop while Organza and I make ourselves comfortable in our nest of blankets. It would be helpful if we had a table but it doesn’t matter. At least we’ll have a TV cabinet by the end of the day, as soon as Mr. Devall comes by to drop it off. Liam settles himself down on the sofa between us and he types something into the browser. “Here it is.”

  Organza and I lean forward, sharing an avid interest in something for once, and begin to read.

  Today in History (Obscure & Unproven Version)

  1886: On this day in history in the tiny community of Tyrellton, a farmer named Jonathon Wheeler uncovered a horrific scene while tending to his cornfield. Wheeler’s plough turned up an ivory-colored object that he at first thought was a tree root but on closer inspection, he discovered it to be a child’s skull.

  Wheeler assembled a group of friends to help him dig over the field and what they were to discover would send the citizens of Tyrellton reeling. Tens of tiny bodies were unearthed, too many to recover, and the decision was made to re-bury the dead where they lay.

  Investigations led to the Tyrellton Orphanage, a facility run by the locally acclaimed philanthropist, Gypsy Latham. One of Ms. Latham’s employees, Bedeliah Farnsworth, was found to be in the grips of a torrid affair with the married Jonathon Wheeler. Further questioning revealed that Bedeliah harbored a deep hatred for children, a hatred that was traced back to a period of bullying in her own childhood.