It was right there, in the front of my billfold, before anyone would come across any money, not that they’d find any. That broken arm cost us three-hundred dollars, and I begged them to let me make payments for the next year. Twenty-five dollars a month, it was half of my grocery money, but I buckled down and made it work. When that doctor handed me the phone though, it felt so peculiar in my hand, like perhaps I had never seen one before. Tony cried and cried on that table with his bone broken in pieces and I dialed slowly trying to remember if I was doing this right. Husband was there within thirty minutes. I worried he would be fired, but his boss didn’t even seem to mind.
Today, I wanted to speak with him. “Husband, this house,” I’d say. “It’s… something is not right here… I just…” But then what? What words could even describe this? I wanted a hug and a reminder that I was not crazy.
I put calling him out of my mind. I slid the warmed up zuchinni onto the plates. The kids ate as though it was a feast and I enjoyed our plain fare too. After we ate, the children ran off to play together. I opened the cupboard again and pulled out the picture: two children, one chef. The girl was sitting on the counter clapping, the boy was standing, arms raised high, and the chef was still flipping his pancake. I stared closer at them, and even though it seemed like a cheery scene, both children looked exhausted. Had they been ill?
I stared at the back of the photograph one more time. Emblem of undying courage, and hence that of a valiant warrior. The lions.
I put the picture away and went back past the caterer’s kitchen to the foyer. Maybe I would find another picture somewhere else. They seemed like they were here almost deliberately. Did the children look tired in the lamb picture? I couldn’t remember. Were they tired or sick?
It struck me, I hadn’t thoroughly search my room. I simply looked for the dress, nothing more. Maybe there was a photograph. I skipped down the long stained glass hallway, pausing to peek through the Lion towards the pool. No children where they shouldn’t be. Thank goodness. I admired the glass, the Lion, the Lamb, and I realized there were more animals. A Wolf, a Squirrel, a Blackbird, a Stag, and a Bear. Seven windows, seven animals. I had this sinking knot in my belly telling me there would be a room for each of them. The wolf looked ominous, and I did not look forward to finding it.
I pressed on to the lion room. Lioness would have been better. I grinned to myself and stared at the room. No gargoyles. There was a wardrobe and a dresser. I went through each drawer, but I found nothing but a dab of dust.
I turned and looked at my room once more. Three doors; one went to the outside, a porch perhaps. I could see out the window that it was near the garden. The other was the entrance, next to the elevator. But the third door. Hmm.
I swung it open and, just like all the other doors in this place it slid effortlessly. I was taken aback by the grandeur of this room. There was a giant cast iron tub right in the middle. It had a large, brass lion’s head on the front of it, and the large claw feet looked terribly real. The faucet was shaped like a great, long lion’s tail, hovering in the air. The tub was so massive. It would easily fit me, both children, and Zippy. It sat on a marble slab like a stage. Look at this great lion, this valiant warrior! I am not sure how long I stared at it. It seemed time slipped away from me in this house.
I broke my gaze and turned to explore. There was a glorious vanity and sink on each side of the room, a his and hers set-up. Two large double doors stood back behind the tub. I opened them and the closet contained within was much bigger than our old house. There was a wall for shoes, several areas to hang long things and short things. A massive jewelry box wall with thin drawers that somehow locked with a tiny key at the top. The key was conveniently in the keyhole. I opened each tiny tray for jewelry hoping something expensive had beenleft behind. In the bottom drawer I found a picture.
My hands trembled. I carefully lifted it up. This time, I saw the back first. It had a lion’s head drawn on it. Next to the lion’s head was the words, “It starts slowly.”
Beneath it were no red words. Who had drawn all these pictures?
I flipped it over and there was a woman. She was sitting on the bed with the giant carved mahogany lions on the headboards. Her hair was dark, curled to perfection. Her dress was white, and in red pen, a small red heart was drawn on the neckline. On the hemline on her skirt in red was written, “Victim or murderer? Can you be both?”
9
The children came in with my great-grandmother’s casserole dish filled with strawberries, tomatoes, and a few other random bits and bobbles. A rock, and a round piece of glass. I would have called it an extremely large marble, but it was perfectly clear all the way through. I didn’t know what it was. Perhaps a decoration out there. Maybe a gargoyle held it over his head or would have stared into it indefinitely if my children had left it be.
We ate an odd hodgepodge of garden food, and at Annabelle’s request, I made up more warmed zucchini. “What have you two been up to today?”
Annabelle bubbled forth like a popped bottle of champagne. “First, I went to the outside, then I danced with a gargoyle, then I played tag with Zippy, next I ran to the wall, then I ran to the garden. Tony stubbed his toe and I doctored him with a leaf made out of magic, and then after that, I bringed dinner!”
When she took a breath, Tony burst in with his own version, “Well! I didn’t need doctored and I don’t think bleeding is bad unless you are bleeding all the way to the death part. The thing is, you’ll never know if you bleed to the death part because you’ll be busy screaming. I didn’t scream very much, so I don’t think that death part was gonna happen.” He nodded knowingly.
“I am gonna color tonight on my bed when you tell me to go to sleep!” Annabelle giggled. “How will you know that I do it? I’m so sneaky!”
“You just told her!” Tony laughed. “You big dummy, you told her!”
“I’m not a dummy! I’m a good one! I’m a good girl!” Annabelle had tiny little tears already working up in her eyes.
“Hey guys, you don’t have to be sneaky. I’ll let you color in your room, as long as it is in a coloring book and not the walls or something awful.” I plated them both the last of the zucchini. “Make sure you pick more zucchini again tomorrow, okay?”
“Mama, why is Zippy all bloody?”
I kicked myself. I had completely forgotten. Time slips away here if you aren’t careful. “Oh shoot, where is she? How bad is it?”
Tony said, “She is outside playing around, I think.” I got the two of them set up washing dishes and I went out to find the dog.
I called her a few times, but she didn’t come running. She slinked up, her teeth bared at me as I held out my hand. A large chunk of fur was missing from the side of her neck, and fresh blood dripped from it. Crap.
I gently petted her, and she never stopped growling. There was a stick in the wound. I don’t know if she ran into a tree and then bled all over, or if she started out injured and then got a stick in the wound. Either way, it was not good. I carefully pulled on the stick and she let out a snarling yelp. It didn’t gush with blood, so hopefully, it hadn’t hit anything that couldn’t heal. I pressed my left knee against her head and my right one into her shoulder and I pulled with all my strength. Quick was better than slow when you had an angry animal in pain. She snarled, struggled and nearly bit me and the blood was quickly pouring. I pressed both my hands into the wound, slowing the flow, and she cried out. I counted to ten slowly, her body writhing under mine and I tried not to cry.
By the time I got to ten, she had stopped. No more growling, no more yelping. No wiggling or struggling. For a moment I thought she was dead. I lifted one hand, and the blood poured again, so I pressed hard and counted to thirty. Finally, at thirty seconds, the flow wasn’t as dangerous. She wouldn’t bleed out if she could hold still long enough for it to mend. That would be a challenge. I slowly took my right knee off her shoulder, still pinning her head with the other knee. You gotta let ‘em up slow
or they’ll bite. That’s what great-grandmother always said. Didn’t matter what kind of animal, you let ‘em up slow.
The wound was definitely a puncture from the stick, and it looked like she had been chewing on it, or caught the stick on something while she ran. It was a mess. I should clip off all the fur from around it and wrap it with something. Hell, I couldn’t find our food box, it seemed unlikely I’d find the box of medical stuff.
I let up her head. She gazed at me with her big, doofy eyes and licked my hand. Back to her old self, it seemed. We slowly walked back to the house together. Thankfully, we made it back without her wound bursting and pouring open. I gave her a little bowl of water and she drank, then immediately fell asleep.
I never did examine the stick she had in her neck or I would have noticed it was carved to a sharp, barbed point.
10
The children climbed onto the lamb bed and snuggled in with crayons and books. They kissed me good night. I was itching to go try out that massive tub.
An hour later I was soaking in the most marvelous moment of my life. There was a tiny bottle of soap I had found and the smooth smell of vanilla just danced and swirled like the steam on the lion. Every achy joint and tired muscle was rejuvenated. I won’t lie. I slept in there for at least forty-five minutes before I woke up.
It was getting chilly. I stared at my naked body getting out of the lion tub and I practically looked younger. Belatedly, I realized that I didn’t have a towel. I crawled into the bed, letting my skin be petted by the delicious red silk. It was absolutely dreamy. For a few moments I was a princess. My skin felt so much tighter and fresher. I kept squirming around to feel the slippery sheets tickling at me. Finally I slept. When I woke up I was invigorated. I felt like a new woman. Husband surely would have wished to be around that particular morning.
The kids were giggling, and I threw on my white dress with the red heart at the neckline. I walked down the hall with the gorgeous stained glass. The colored glass flickered colorful lights against the hallway wall. I supposed that was from how the light bounced off the pool water. They were giggling harder. Both of them were lying on the bed, one under the blankets, one on top. They were coloring and giggling and chitter chattering about who knows what. I peeked through the crack of the heavy lamb door. I kept hoping I would hear something they wanted. Something suitable for a Christmas present or a birthday present. Shoes? A dress? A special meal? What do children whisper about?
The dog pressed herself against my legs; her nose was cold but her fur was soft. She nearly toppled me into the children’s room. I resisted though. “Shh,” I said to the dog, running my fingers down her black back. My daughter was holding up a drawing for her brother and I burst into the room. “Let me see it!”
They both were quite startled, but she let me have the paper. On it was a picture of a wolf, and she had drawn on it with red crayon. The sight of it turned my stomach and I tore it into four pieces. The dog burst in barking and snarling at me.
Her teeth seemed suddenly near my face and her neck was dripping blood. I pressed my hand to it before it would drip on the white comforter. She stopped growling instantly and jumped off the bed and fell asleep in the corner. I lay there, on the crimson silk sheets still quite naked, Zippy’s blood on my fingers, and I was confused. Wasn’t I in the children’s room? These vivid dreams!
My fingers grew sticky from the blood. Why was she snapping at me? Maybe I was making noises in my sleep. I needed to wash my hands, and sleep wasn’t going to visit any time soon.
I stood and washed my hands in the vanity on the right side of the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall. I brought no clean clothes in from the garage. I had been wearing the same outfit since that long, dusty ride here. So had the kids, now that I was thinking about it. I looked at my crumpled pile of dirty clothes, jeans and a tired t-shirt. A pile of dirt surrounded them. I loathed the idea of trying to put them back on my sparkling clean body.
I looked in the mirror. My skin did look good, fresh; maybe not younger, but fresh. Maybe that bath really was rejuvenating. I sat my naked body down on the bed and wondered. Should I go walking about in the nude? I never did that. It seemed so vulgar. But yet, it would be very nice to put on something fresh. I briefly considered taking the crimson sheet with me, but then I didn’t want to get it dirty.
So I sat there and wished for that dress. That one that would fit me like a glove with that pretty crimson heart at the neckline. I whipped open the wardrobe and half expected it to be hanging there on a lone hanger. It did not appear though. Finally I decided to run naked. After all, this was a secluded place, and it was night. The children were sleeping.
And run I did.
Past those animals pieced together with glass Lion then Lamb, next Squirrel, that Blackbird, Stag, then Bear. When I got to the Wolf goosebumps run across me. I decided I didn’t like wolves.
I listened at the Lamb door, wondering if the children slept soundly, and I heard nothing. The lion crest glimmered in the marble and I wondered who was winning the gargoyle fight up above, stuck in the eternal battle for this room. I glanced up and the mirror eyes all glimmered in the moonlight. Whoever they fought, their eyes did not glisten. I could only see the sparkling eyes of half the warriors. It was as though they had won.
I couldn’t help but feel more and more worried as I whipped open the massive lion doors and stepped outside slipping into the garage. It was dark. Too dark. Even with the door rolled opened I couldn’t see which dresser was mine. I cringed, naked in the garage. I held my breath as if that would magically give me sight and lifted my arms out. The first dresser my fingers found was a tall fat dresser with four drawers. Thank goodness for luck. It was mine.
My hand thumped around on the top drawer and found a soft dress. I slipped it on and felt better. I groped around and found underwear and a clean bra. Grabbing them both I snuck back in, clicking shut the lion doors. That’s when I heard it. The soft pitter-patter of little feet scurrying about. I paused and waited. Dog or kid?
I peeked into the lamb room and both their little faces peeked out from the blankets, beautiful and sweet. They slept like babies. They looked so vulnerable and suddenly, I didn’t think they were safe with the door open. I clicked it shut. I stood there in the foyer, listening for the feet that spooked me. Which room did Zippy go in?
But I heard instead a soft rustling scrape, like a paper falling to the floor. In their room. In the Lamb room. My heartbeat quickened as I opened the door and slipped inside. Whatever heebie jeebies had crawled on my neck could surely let go now. Here are my children, here I am, in this safe, beautiful home.
But they did not relent. In this tiny stream of moonlight a paper was floating to the floor. It had slipped from the bed. I reached down slowly and picked it up. It was a drawing of a Wolf.
In red crayon it said “Merciless.”
11
I wish I could tell you what happened the rest of the night but it seems I just awoke in my bed with the soft dress still on me, the crimson silk wrapped around me, the fluffy white comforter sitting atop. . Zippy was asleep in the corner. The lions looked down on me and it was good.
It was time for breakfast though. I walked past the hall of stained glass, and back to the Lamb room. The children were wide awake and giggling and coloring. “Are you guys hungry?”
“Hey, Mama?” Annabelle asked without looking up from her coloring. “Are you ever gonna go upstairs?”
How many days had we been here? Three, I think. We had owned this home over a month and I still hadn’t even gone upstairs. Why not? Had I forgotten? I wish I knew the answer.
“I, yes. Yes I will.”
“Mama, why did you tear up my wolf drawing?” she said. I looked down at the floor and saw four torn pieces. I picked it up slowly. “You were in that white dress and you ripped it up. Why did you do that?”
“I…” My voice faltered. Had I done it? Wasn’t that a dream? I held up the pieces and pl
aced them together like a puzzle. The wolf was rough and drawn in black crayon. Its eyes were red, and underneath it in red was written one word:
“Cruel.”
I stared at it and I found I did not, in fact, remember. Did I rip it or didn’t I? Was this even the picture I found the other night? “I’m sorry, honey. I’m not sure what happened.”
“Zippy!” They said with enthusiasm just as the dog lumbered in. She looked worse for the wear. In fact, despite all her sitting and lying it looked like the dog hadn’t slept all night. Her eyes were red and swollen and she lay down. I checked her puncture wound and it had been healing nicely, a few drops of blood, but no gross smells.
Good thing too. I certainly didn’t have any antibiotics.
“Oh hey, is that old mare sticking around? Have you seen her?”
Tony cocked his head to one side as he thought. “Yeah she is by the garden a lot. Do you think we will ever give her a name?”
“Doesn’t seem likely. Unless you have one you want to give her?” I said.
“Cocoa-balls.” Tony said, grinning.
“And this is why she doesn’t have a name.” I winked at him. “Breakfast?”
“Oh, we just want to color.” Annabelle furiously scribbled away.
Well, if the dog was napping, and the kids were scribbling… I should go upstairs.
I went to the foyer and I glanced up at the frozen battle. No time for you now you silly gargoyles. I want to know what else is here.
I walked up the stairs and, when I got to the top, I turned to look one more time. The gargoyle with the sword pointed down to the chandelier had a particularly gruesome grin. I walked down the stairs slowly, staring at him from every angle. When I got to the bottom I turned to the kitchen to make breakfast. Once I passed through the dining hall and past the caterer’s kitchen, I suddenly remembered I was planning on going up. Up those stairs.
Landlocked Lighthouse (Locked House Hauntings Book 1) Page 4