“All right, daddy,” replied the girls, putting on Kingston’s leash and leading him out of the car.
Paul opened the passenger door and then opened the glove box. Inside was a small black box. He opened it and walked toward the workbench. The little box contained a small round silver locket. He opened the locket and looked at the tiny pictures. On one side were the two girls, and on the other himself and Jack. Paul smiled with excitement at the perfect gift for Sam. Her birthday was in a couple days and he loved to buy her gifts. It had been a long time since he had been able to afford to get her something special. Now that their lives were changing, he wanted to get her a gift that said, “I love you and everything is going to be all right.” Paul placed the locket into the drawer of the workbench and closed it. Quietly he turned, and the scarecrow caught his eye. “Well, Edgar, looks like I did it again,” Paul said, quite pleased with himself. He picked up the old scarecrow and examined its gloves. “Someone must have had serious issues to make such and ugly thing.” He sat Edgar back on the workbench and covered his head with an old cloth.
Upstairs, Sam walked down the hall towards Jack’s room. Behind the closed bedroom door she could hear Jack laughing to himself. She put her hand against the door and opened it slowly. Jack was sitting on the floor facing away from her and looking up at the wall. He laughed again and raised his hands the way he did when wanting to be picked up. Slowly he turned around to look at Sam. Sam stepped over the gate. “What are you doing silly boy?” said Sam, picking him up.
The door suddenly slammed shut behind her. Startled, she turned around. “Just the wind Jack,” she said as she kissed his head. “Just the wind.”
She jumped again spinning around towards his crib as a nursery chime began to play. “Ha! Aren’t we being silly?” she said, walking towards the crib. She could see the light glowing underneath the blanket and she pulled the covers slowly over Mr. Bear. She looked at it perplexed for a moment—she could have sworn Jack dropped it in her room when she picked him up. “How odd,” Sam said to herself as she opened the door and stepped over the gate, shutting off the bedroom light. “Must be losing my mind.”
She did not see the dark figure slowly cross the bedroom behind her.
Sam walked down the hall and into her room. Paul came up and sat on the bed. Sam went to him, hugging him tightly. “I’m worried about the girls,” she said. “Emily almost lost her hand in the garbage disposal and Lily went into the basement by herself.”
“Emily put her hand into the garbage disposal?” he asked. “What on earth for?”
“She lost mom’s ring—the one she got for Christmas.”
“The girls are just going through an adjustment. We moved their whole world and it’s going to take them sometime to settle in.”
“I know,” replied Sam., “but it seems like all these weird things keep happening and I just don’t want them to get hurt.”
“I’ll talk to the girls and everything will be fine,” said Paul, smiling at her with appreciation of how amazing she was.
“All right, I’m going to go start dinner,” replied Sam as she picked up Jack. “Come down after you change.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bolton,” Paul replied playfully.
Sam stopped and gave him her “not-in-the-mood” face.
“Ok, I’ll be right down,” said Paul. “Just don’t run the water. I need to get that ring out before we have another incident.”
After dinner, Paul decided to have a talk with Emily and Lily.
“Girls,” he began, “I need you to understand something. Living out here away from the city can be dangerous. If something were to happen and we needed to go to a hospital, it’s almost a half an hour away. I’m not trying to scare you. I just need you to be more careful. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“If we aren’t careful, bad things will happen to us,” said Emily.
Lily gasped and looked back at Paul.
“I just want you to think things over and ask mommy or me if you’re not sure what to do,” said Paul.
“Ok, daddy,” replied Lily. “I’m sorry,”
“It’s ok, girls—give me a hug and go get ready for bed,” he said.
The girls ran upstairs. He rubbed his face with his hands. It had been a long day for the family.
That night Emily was fast asleep when Lily rushed into her room.
“Emily….Emily!” said Lily, pulling the covers off her sister.
“What do you want? Go back to bed,” said Emily, annoyed.
“Emily, I can hear something in the house.”
“It’s probably Kingston or Buttercream. Now go back to sleep.”
“But I can’t. Can I sleep with you?”
Half asleep, Emily scooted over and opened up the covers. She knew that Lily would just keep coming back until she gave in. After shutting the bedroom door, Lily climbed in bed.
The girls were just starting to fall asleep when they heard footsteps in the hall. The footsteps seemed to start at the end of the hall and creep past their door to the stairs.
“Did you hear that?” whispered Lily. “Something’s in the house! I told you so.”
Emily got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. Looking up and down the hall, she saw no one. Quietly she opened the door to her parent’s room, and they were sound asleep. Perplexed, she returned to her room.
The noise started again. This time it was coming from the stairs. It sounded like someone was walking down the stairs. Emily tiptoed back around the corner and looked down the stairs. Nobody was there. She listened for a moment but the old house was silent. She turned to walk back to her room. The sound came again, much more loudly now, and started at the bottom of the stairs quickly coming up. With her socks slipping on the hardwood floor, she ran as fast as she could back to her room. Without turning around she made it inside and slammed the door shut, gasping for air. Lily was sitting up in the bed, holding the covers tight.
“What was that?” Lily said, pulling the covers up to her face.
Emily jumped into bed with her sister.
“I don’t like it here anymore,” said Emily as she watched the door. The girls listened for a while but the house was quiet. They both fought to stay awake but soon they both fell fast asleep.
Chapter Seven
A Long Run of Bad Luck
The next morning while Sam was busy inside the house picking up after the girls, they ran outside to the yard as Paul climbed up his ladder to the roof in preparation for the day’s work.
Sam came out of the house, carrying Jack in her arms. “Girls, go ahead and get in the car,” she said as she approached the bottom of the ladder. “We have lots to do today. Paul….Paul? I thought you were going to watch Jack while I took the girls shopping.”
“I am,” he replied. “I have his playpen all set up. He can watch daddy work.”
Sam looked over at the playpen set up in the front yard, and then back at Paul. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I mean, what if something happens?”
“He’ll be fine,” he replied. “I’m going to be right up here the whole time. I can see him perfectly. I’ve got the umbrella set up and he’ll be cool in the shade. Don’t worry about it. Take the girls and go have fun.”
Sam hesitated for a moment as her mind raced with everything that could go wrong. “All right—I just think it’s a little weird, that’s all,” she said as she placed Jack into the playpen with his toys. Sam went into the house and brought Kingston out, putting him on his leash next to the garage. She and the girls got into the car, and then she backed out of the garage, turning around at the top of the driveway. Heading down to the road, she looked out her window at Jack in his playpen. He smiled back at her. She waved at him as they were pulling out onto the road. Sam was still worried about Paul’s idea to work while watching Jack. She reminded herself that Paul was quite capable of taking care of the kids. She trusted his judgment and tried not to think about it. “Girls, we have a lot to do today
,” she said as she drove down the road to town. “I’m going to need your help picking up some stuff for the house.”
In the front yard, Paul tied a rope around the handle of his old wooden toolbox and started climbing his ladder to the roof. When he reached the top, he threw the rope around a tree branch above his head. Pulling the rope, he watched as the toolbox began to lift slowly.
From his playpen, Jack watched him intently, fascinated by the toolbox lifting up onto the roof.
Once he had the toolbox, Paul placed it on a small level piece of roof. Taking a moment, he looked down at Jack playing in the playpen. “Hey bud, you my busy man huh?” he said as he started ripping off shingles and letting them slide down to the front of the house. Jack was down below playing with his toys, content with the day’s activities.
Paul did not notice a glass pane in the second story window that slowly began to crack. Inch by inch, the crack spread to form a wide web.
Paul worked quickly, every so often looking down at Jack. It was particularly warm that day and after working for a bit Paul began to sweat. He took off his shirt, and standing up to stretch he looked down at Jack. Their eyes met, causing both of them to crack a smile. Then Paul returned to the job of ripping off the old shingles.
Jack looked over at his Jack-in-the-box as the handle began to turn itself slowly, playing its music. Jack began to giggle. The lid popped opened and the clown jumped out.
High overhead, the window broke through.
From behind Paul felt a strong push, shoving him forward. He tried to lean back and catch himself but he over corrected, falling onto his back and sliding down the roof towards the edge. “Whoahhhh!” he yelled as his boots hit the edge of the gutter, tearing it away from the house. Face first, he hurtled toward the ground. With his eyes pinched shut and his hands covering his face for protection from the impact, suddenly he felt a vise-like squeeze around his right ankle and a massive jerk as his fall stopped. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, slowly lowering his hands. He was hanging upside down, swinging a little back and forth. The tree above made a creaking noise as it held his weight. Looking up at his leg, he could see that his ankle had become entangled in the rope, holding him suspended. The rope had saved his life. He took another breath and smiled, laughing to himself and celebrating, knowing very well that he had almost just died from being careless.
He spun around to look at Jack, who was standing up in the playpen, staring at his father, in awe of his acrobatics.
“Don’t tell your mother,” Paul said, smiling at Jack as the baby giggled.
With his fingertips, Paul could just reach the tips of the grass below. No help there. He stretched up, grabbing his pants. He tried to reach the rope but it was just out of reach. He tried again but could only touch the rope with his fingertips, and his back started to ache. The sun was beating down and he could feel its heat. The minutes ticked by as Paul kept giving it his all in short bursts, trying to reach the rope.
Busy trying to free himself, he did not see Jack stand on top of his Jack-in-the-box and then climb out of the playpen. Jack hit the ground and then slowly stood up, using the playpen for support.
Paul was taking a break, looking up at the rope thinking about how best to get undone. He started to feel woozy as the blood rushed to his head. Over by the side of the garage he heard Kingston whine and start barking. He turned to look at him. “I know—quite the predicament,” he said to Kingston, thinking the barking was at Paul’s expense. “I don’t like it anymore than you do.” Twisting, he looked at the playpen in the yard. He saw the toys, but no Jack. Perplexed, he looked around; and there was his baby boy, walking away from him, towards the pond.
“Jack!.....Jack!” he yelled, trying to get Jack’s attention.
Jack stopped and looked at Paul for a moment before turning around and walking again.
“No, Jack!” Paul shouted furiously, trying to reach the rope above. “Come here, come to daddy! Jack!”
Barking wildly, Kingston tugged at the rope. He knew something was wrong and wanted to go to Jack, who was walking just beyond his reach. Upset by the danger, the dog whined and whimpered.
Jack paused for a moment to look at Kingston, who pulled hard, trying to reach beyond his rope.
The toolbox above Paul started to slide very slowly, like it was being pushed toward the edge. The weight of the box caused it to tip on an angle and slide down the roof towards Paul. He heard the noise and looked up. “Oh, shit!” he said putting his arms around his head for protection. The tools and the box came crashing to the ground. Everything missed him except his level ruler, which made a small cut on his arm. He looked up to see if anything else was coming down. He knew he had been lucky the heavy hammer or the sharp files hadn’t hit him.
Looking back over at Jack, who was almost to the edge of the pond, he yelled out, “Jack! Jack!”
Looking down at the grass, he saw his razor blade. He reached out for it, stretching as hard as he could. The metal just touched the tips of his fingers and he struggled to reach it. “Come on. Come on, you bastard!” he muttered as he stretched his hand. As he swung past it, he picked it up. He opened the blade, and with all his strength he grabbed his leg and pulled his upper body up far enough to reach his ankle. There was no time for a careful precision cut. He forcefully dug into the rope. The razor went cleanly through and cut into his ankle. With a loud snap the rope gave way and Paul fell heavily to the ground. As he rolled onto his stomach a sharp pain jolted through his back. But there was no time to waste. Jumping to his feet he ran toward Jack. He limped as he ran tripping over his tools but nothing, especially his own pain, would keep him from reaching his son.
Jack had toddled to the edge of the pond. He turned and smiled at his father.
“Jack!” shouted Paul as Jack slipped on the embankment and started to slide into the pond. Paul slid to the ground and reached out, and, grabbing Jack’s leg, pulled him up and into his arms. Paul sat on the muddy bank of the pond, holding his son and rocking him back and forth. “I’m so sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.” The tears were brought on by fear and the reality that he could have lost his precious son—his baby boy—forever. It would have been his fault. This one moment could have changed his life forever.
When Sam arrived home with the girls, she parked in the driveway and started walking toward the garage. In the front yard Paul’s tools were scattered all over the ground. It wasn’t like Paul to leave everything a mess like that. She stared at them with an increasing feeling of panic. “Paul? Paul, I’m home!” she called, dropping the grocery bags and running into the garage toward the kitchen door. She flung the door open to see Paul and Jack sitting at the kitchen table. Paul was holding the rope that had saved his life. Sam caught her breath and smiled, glad to see they were both ok.
“What happened?” she asked. “What’s with the rope in your hand and the tools all over the front yard?”
Paul smiled and looked at Jack. He had decided it was better to tell the truth—not exactly the whole truth, but most of it. “I fell off the roof, but my rope caught me,” he said.
“You fell off the roof? Are you okay?”
“I just have a cut and a rope burn, but I’ll be fine,” replied Paul, lifting his pant leg.
Sam knelt down to look at the burn and the deep cut. Her experience as a nurse made her piece together more than just a fall. “This is a blade cut,” she said. “You might need a couple stitches. Why is it a blade cut?”
“Well, I slipped, and the rope caught me. I had to cut it, and it went a little too deep.”
“So you were hanging off the roof while Jack was absolutely helpless?” said Sam, looking up at Paul with her angry “I-told-you-so” face.
“He was fine. I got right down and we came into the house.” He knew this was a delicate situation, and telling her what really happened would not be the best idea.
Sam looked at him again, questioning in her mind the truth behind his story. She looked up at
Jack, feeling thankful that he was ok, and kissed him on the head. “Ok. I’m just glad you’re both all right,” she said, leaning over to give Paul a kiss. “I’ll get the first aid kit. If things keep going on like this, I’m going to need a better one,” she said as she walked into the garage.
Paul leaned over to Jack, pressing his finger to his lips. “Shhhhh….Our secret,” he said as Jack looked up at him, smiling.
Paul examined the rope. He just couldn’t understand how two straight strands of rope had become so knotted around his ankle. Paul wasn’t a man of faith, but he had no doubt someone was looking out for him that day.
Chapter Eight
That Bad Feeling
Everyone gathered ‘round the dinner table. Paul sat down slowly, his ankle still sore from his earlier acrobatics. Sam started cutting up Jack’s chicken as he banged the table with his spoon. Emily and Lily picked at their peas.
Instead of watching the family eat as he always did, Kingston walked over to the basement door. He sat staring at the door, as if curiously listening; then he started barking at it.
“Kingston, no!” said Paul. “Quiet! Go lay down!”
Kingston stopped for a second, turned and looked at Jack, then again started barking at the door.
“Okay that’s it! Come on,” Paul said, standing up and walking over to the dog. Pulling Kingston’s collar, he led him over to the garage door. “Into the garage,” said Paul. “We can’t have you barking through dinner.”
Kingston walked into the garage, turned around, and sat down. He looked at Paul with his sad face. Paul took the box of dog bones off the shelf and tossed one to him. He didn’t want Kingston to think he was too mad. As Kingston snatched up his bone, Paul smiled at the satisfied dog. Shutting the garage door, Paul returned to his chair.
“Daddy, why does Kingston have to be in the garage?” asked Lily, not happy that her dog had been removed from the kitchen.
The House on Hayden Pond Page 4