by Ilia Bera
“Andrew wasn’t there—you know?” Brittany said. “But I promise you he’s wrong.”
“Good—I’m glad to hear it.”
Brittany bit her lip, containing her mistaken joy. “You’re an understanding guy—I like that about you,” she said.
“Sometimes you have to be, you know? There’s usually a good explanation behind everything.”
Brittany was still hopelessly infatuated with Connor. As usual, when Brittany fell, she fell hard.
“Is that why you came over?” she asked.
“No—I was wondering if you could do me a huge favour.”
“Sure—anything,” Brittany said as she looked into her crush’s bright blue eyes.
“Do you have Hanna’s phone number?” Connor asked.
Brittany’s heart dropped into her stomach as all of her hopeless job dissipated from her body.
“H—Hanna’s phone number?” she asked.
“Yeah—I kind of need to talk to her tonight. It’s important.”
“It is?” Brittany asked. At this point, she’d zoned out of the conversation. In her head, the phrase, “You’re such an idiot,” repeated over and over again. Her heart was becoming worn out from being tugged, pulled and dropped repeatedly.
“Well—do you have it?” Connor asked.
“H—Have what?”
“The number. Hanna’s phone number.”
“Oh—I—um—no, I don’t think so,” Brittany said.
“Are you sure? You don’t have it in an old school directory or something?”
“Uh—No. My family never keeps any of that stuff,” Brittany said.
“Do you know where she lives?”
As a matter of fact, Brittany did know where Hanna lived. Most of the people of Snowbrooke knew where her house was, as it became somewhat of a landmark after the apparent homicide of Hanna’s father.
It wasn’t long after the story hit the news, and Hanna was sent off to a foster home, that kids started to make up legends about the house—calling it haunted and possessed.
It quickly became a weekend tradition—Kids would dare one another to go into the house. The goal was to make it up to the attic, where the spirit of Hanna’s father supposedly resided. No one ever made it past the bedroom, where police found the body of one man, and the blood of two others—Hanna’s father included. Most of the kids couldn’t make it through the front door, never mind up the stairs, and down the hall. No one ever made it up to the attic.
Supposedly, if you went in unwelcome, strange voices would start to speak to you. Some children ran out, claiming the feeling of cold hands aggressively grabbing their body. Others said that The Executioner sat there waiting, humming a haunting tune over the sound of electrical buzzing—the buzzing of The Chair.
The stories were the epitome of childhood fantasies.
When Hanna turned eighteen, she moved out from her foster home, and back into the house. The house had been in the family for years, and the mortgage was long paid off. Most kids stopped sneaking into the house, but they would still stare up at the attic window in wonder—strangely fascinated by the biggest mystery the town of Snowbrooke had ever seen.
“Brittany?” Connor prodded.
“Huh?” Brittany said.
“Do you know where Hanna lives?”
Brittany wrapped her arm around her chest, covering her cleavage as a sense of insecurity washed over her. She looked down at her feet.
“Well...” she thought.
TWENTY-TWO
THE WANDERLUST ROAMER
Andrew, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, walked slowly down the cold road through the centre of the small town. The strong winds and thick snow made it difficult to see more than twenty feet ahead of him.
He could barely even see the colourful glow of the newly strung Christmas lights that spiralled up each light post along the town’s main drag.
He turned into the local movie house and reached for the door. He pulled on the handle, but it was locked. He tried the other door, but it was also locked. Then, he noticed the sign—
“Closed due to power outages.”
“Shit,” Andrew muttered.
Standing still, he was starting to freeze. He looked around for something else to occupy his time.
Since returning from his fast-paced life of travel, Andrew had become an insomniac. He had grown too used to the excitement and bustle of the different cultures. The deafening Snowbrooke silence made it difficult for him to sleep—he didn’t like being able to hear his own thoughts.
A black car pulled up on the road next to Andrew. Andrew shielded his face with his hand so he could see the vehicle through the sharp frigid snow. It was a police cruiser.
The cruiser’s window rolled down and a young-looking police officer leaned out..
“You shouldn’t be out here right now!” the cop yelled over the whistle of the cold wind. “You’ll freeze to death!”
“I didn’t know the theatre was closed!” Andrew called back.
“Hop in. I can give you a ride home!”
“I’ll be okay—Thank you, officer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Just be careful, okay? I’m sure you’ve heard all about the recent crime in the area. I really don’t mind giving you a ride.”
“I know, officer. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”
“Okay—suit yourself!” the officer said, rolling his window back up as he pulled away.
Andrew continued his aimless journey. He trudged his way through the deep snow towards the university campus. As he walked, the streetlights flickered and buzzed. The town’s power was ready to go out at any moment.
The tips of Andrew’s buried fingers were completely numb, along with his feet, his ears and his nose.
Freezing cold, Andrew found himself at the door to the Winter’s Den. He reached for the handle and pulled—but it too was locked. Inside, all of the lights were off, and the chairs were stacked on the tables. The bar was closed.
Far from home, Andrew found himself in a tricky bind. It was too cold to make the long journey home, but there were no open businesses for him to seek shelter.
There was one place nearby that Andrew could think of—Eric lived close by, and if Eric wasn’t at work—chances were probable that he was at home. Andrew slogged his way through the deepening snow towards his former brother-in-law’s nearby home.
His trembling arms and legs were quickly going numb from the cold and he was chatter his teeth uncontrollably. His movements were slowing down as his joints were falling victim to the sharp cold.
He slowly made his way up Eric’s steps, and he knocked on the door. He stood; shivering—feeling increasingly faint as he waited for an answer.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
He knocked again with an impatient force.
The icy breeze whistled loudly as it picked the fallen snow off of the ground and threw it at the frozen Andrew. The breeze stung the exposed skin on Andrew’s face that hadn’t already gone totally numb.
Impatient, bored and freezing to death, Andrew reached for the cold metal doorknob. As he turned the knob, he could hear the handle’s mechanism cracking as the frozen moisture broke apart. Miraculously, the house was unlocked. Andrew let himself in, closing the door behind him.
The warmth from the house immediately began to sooth his painfully cold skin. He could feel his frozen joints thaw, as he stood motionless in the front entryway of the little house. His vision slowly unblurred as the thick frost melted off of his eyelashes, and his hearing slowly returned to him as the moisture released from his ears.
Andrew took a long breath of warm air into his cold shallow lungs.
“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” a young female voice yelled from within the other room.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Eric was in his bedroom with a girl he’d picked up before closing the bar.
Andrew considered sneaking back out of the house
and going back home—to avoid an inevitably awkward moment.
But instead, he stayed. He removed his cold clothes and made his way to Eric’s laundry room. He stuffed all of his clothes into Eric’s dryer.
There was a stack of clean laundry in the room. Andrew looked through it and picked out a warm pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Eric had always been comfortable sharing, so Andrew didn’t feel the need to ask. It may be hard to believe, but this wasn’t the first time that Andrew had found himself at Eric’s house, waiting for Eric to finish up with a lady-friend.
He walked into the living room.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
“Oh yeah! Just like that! Right there! Right there!” Eric’s fling yelled out.
TWENTY-THREE
BORED & ALONE
Andrew sat down on the couch and waited. He flipped through the channels of Eric’s television, but there was nothing besides late-night infomercials on. He looked around the room, bored.
He decided to take a shower while he waited for Eric to finish up. The warm water from the shower slowly thawed out his rigid joints and muscles.
After his shower, he found himself back on the living room couch, waiting for his surprisingly energetic friend.
“Oh God! Oh God! Harder! Harder! Harder!” the girl yelled.
Suddenly, there was silence and one final loud thud. Andrew continued to watch the television as he waited, with the volume turned down low.
“Do you hear something?” the girl asked from within the bedroom.
“No,” Eric replied.
“It sounds like talking. You don’t hear that?”
There was a silence. “I don’t know—I don’t hear anything. To be honest, my hears are ringing from all the yelling.”
Moments later, a pretty young naked woman emerged from Eric’s bedroom. Her hair was a big mess from all the activity she’d just endured, and her make up was smeared in every direction on her face.
She was looking back into the bedroom, smiling. “I’ll just tidy up, and then we’ll go for another round?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Andrew heard Eric reply from the bedroom.
The naked woman turned around and instantly noticed Andrew on the couch. She immediately covered her crotch and her breasts with her hands and let out a loud scream.
“What is it?” Eric said, frantically springing to his feet and running out into the living room, totally naked.
“Sorry!” Andrew said, shielding his vision from the naked couple.
Andrew covered his crotch with a couch pillow.
“Who is that?” the naked woman asked, retreating back into the bedroom.
“Andrew? What are you doing here?”
“I got stuck outside and I almost froze to death—and your house was open.”
“Why didn’t you knock? You need to know, Andrew.”
“I did. You didn’t hear me. I was out there forever knocking.”
Eric sighed as he stared at Andrew, who was showered and dressed in Eric’s clothes.
“What?” Andrew said.
Eric laughed. “You need to get this boredom thing under control, buddy,” he said as he walked back into the bedroom to put on a pair of sweatpants.
“No—it’s not that. I was just cold. I walked to the bar, but it was closed. I didn’t think I could make it home.”
“Why are you going out to the bar on a Wednesday past midnight, Andrew?” Eric asked as he walked back out into the living room.
The young woman walked back out, dressed in nothing but a long t-shirt from Eric’s dresser.
“I didn’t mean to scare you—I’m sorry,” Andrew said.
“It’s okay—I just wasn’t expecting someone to be here,” the woman replied.
“This is Andrew, my brother-in-law. Andrew, this is Lucy.”
“Nice to meet you Lucy,” Andrew said.
“Nice to meet you.”
“You want to crash on the couch tonight?” Eric asked.
“Well—I don’t want to get in your guys’ way or anything. Once the weather dies down a bit I’ll probably just take off.”
“I can give you a ride in the truck if you want.”
“That’s okay—I don’t want to be a bother,” Andrew insisted.
“It’s not bother. It would take me five minutes and I’d be back here. Then you don’t have to walk twenty minutes in the freezing cold.”
“Um,” Andrew thought. “I would just feel bad to make you get all bundled up… And with the price of gas these days...”
Eric looked down at the ground and laughed. “Man, you know that I love you, right?”
“Yeah—of course. We’re brothers for life.”
“And that makes me very happy—but you’ve got to get this figured out, man.”
“What do you mean?” Andrew asked.
“This is the third time this week that you’ve just shown up. And when you’re not here, you’re at The Den.”
“It’s just convenient—close to where I’m taking my class, and stuff.”
“That’s the thing—there is no stuff. You’re bored, Andrew. You need to get a hobby or a job or something—anything to occupy your time.”
“What? I had that job for a while—remember? At the shoe store on Arbutus.”
“Yeah—And what happened?”
“I couldn’t stand it—It was mind-numbingly boring.”
“But you say that about everything.”
“No I don’t.”
“When you took that art class?”
“What? That was boring. It wasn’t for me.”
“That hiking group?”
“They did the same three trails over and over—after a month there was nothing left to see.”
“Well, what do you like to do?” Eric asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Anything in the world—If you could do anything, what would you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You like movies—why don’t you look into being a movie reviewer or maybe a filmmaker?”
“I don’t really like movies, they’re just… There. They’re something to do.”
Eric sighed. “There must be something you enjoy. Video games? Porn? Anything?”
Andrew thought. “I mean, I liked travelling—I want to go travelling again.”
“Okay, so start planning that.”
“I don’t have the money, and my parents won’t pay for it anymore.”
“So figure out how much you need, and get a job.”
“I would need a lot—It would take me years to make enough to do what I want to do.”
“But Andrew—That’s what people do—That’s just life. People have to work for the things that they want. If everything were just free and easy, then the things wouldn’t be worth doing.”
“But I tried that job, and I couldn’t do it. Everyday was like slamming my head against a wall. Besides, Penelope is still going around on dad’s dollar.”
“Your sister held down a job for a year when I was with her.”
“That’s because dad stopped giving her money when you got married.”
“What?” Lucy, Eric’s lady friend chimed in.
“He stopped giving me money for no reason,” Andrew said.
“He stopped giving you money because you’re an adult, and adult’s don’t get allowance.”
“It’s not fair—he’s a millionaire, doing nothing with his money.”
Eric sighed as he tried to think of a solution.
“Maybe you just need a girlfriend,” Eric’s date suggested..
“Yeah—There you go. Girls are the biggest time-sink of all time. Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?”
“Okay. I’ll just make a stop at the Girlfriend Store on my way home and pick one up.”
Eric laughed. “Well you would need to ask a girl out—is there someone you like?”
Andrew thought about it. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t know means yes,�
�� Lucy said with a smile.
“Tell me about her,” Eric insisted.
“I don’t know—I barely know her. She just—she just seems like a normal person.”
“Well you will barely know every girl until you go on a few dates,” Eric said.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m her type to be honest.”
“Girls don’t have types. Girls just like guys who are confident with themselves,” Lucy said. “Like Eric.”
“Thanks babe,” Eric said, giving Lucy a peck on the cheek. “Who is this girl? Do I know her?” Eric asked Andrew.
Andrew was silent for a moment.
“Is she in your class?”
“Yeah.”
Eric thought for a moment, and then the light in his brain went off. “Oh, Andrew—Her? I don’t know, dude. That’s not the kind of girl that I’m talking about.”
“What do you mean?” Andrew asked.
“She’s not—how can I put this—The girlfriend type of girl.”
“Why?”
“She’s got issues—Daddy issues, emotional issues. Girls like that are ticking time bombs.”
“She’s actually a pretty cool, down-to-earth girl.”
“Andrew—she went home with a guy that she met at a bar on a weekday.”
“I met you at the bar and I went home with you!” Lucy said, offended by the statement.
“That’s different, babe. You’re special.”
Lucy’s anger turned suddenly into flattery. “Aw—Thanks, babe.”
“All I’m saying is—she’ll end up hurting you. I hate to say it, but she’s kind of—kind of a slut.”
“I think that, if you talked to her, you would think otherwise.”
“I talked to her. She was flirting with me the moment she walked into the bar. Then, she was flirting with that jock kid in your class, and then she went home with that British kid—three guys within a one hour window.”
Andrew thought about it as he looked down at the ground. He knew that there was more to Brittany than what was on the surface, but he didn’t know how to justify it.
At the same time, Eric was right—Brittany showed interest in every single guy in that bar...
Every single guy except for Andrew.
“Or maybe the girlfriend thing isn’t the solution—maybe we just need to find you a different hobby,” Eric said, recognizing Andrew’s sour reaction to the subject.