by Mark Tufo
"Honey, I'm home."
Cara looked up at him and she couldn't stop herself from crying as she told Ben the whole story.
6.
Cara was giving him the silent treatment. She was pissed about how he had reacted to her story about the basement. All he had tried to do was get her to realize that there could have been a simple explanation for the door jamming. She had asked him about the smile. He had no idea what she meant by that, and by that time she was mad and wouldn't explain.
It had been a week since she had said more than two words to him. She had spent all of her time painting and ignoring him. Every time he went into her studio to talk to her, she rushed to cover her work. She had never hidden her paintings from him in the past.
He decided that he was going to try to apologize to her for the fifteenth time. He hated it that she was so angry with him. They had never had a fight that lasted more than an hour or two. The worst thing was when she told him that he didn't care about her. That had cut him so badly. He cared for her more than anything in the world. Definitely more than she could ever know. At first he had thought that she was just overreacting, but now, he knew that she was really upset.
Ben cracked open the door as quietly as he could and looked in. Cara was standing in front of her easel with a brush in her hand. He was shocked by what he saw. He had never questioned or criticized Cara's art. She was a fairly successful artist who had had several gallery shows and tons of commissions. Besides that, he really thought that her art was exceptional.
The painting that she was working on now was so dark and a little bit frightening. Her work was usually light, and made you feel happy and safe. She was an impressionist painter, flowers, buildings, landscapes. This painting was surreal, blacks and grays to make the form of something that looked like a monster standing in shadows. He squinted his eyes to see it more clearly, and he thought for a second that the monster looked a little bit like Cara.
She whipped around and saw him peaking in.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She screamed at him. "Are you spying on me?" There was so much anger in her face. He had never seen her like this before.
"No honey, I just wanted to talk with you." He was trying to use a calming tone to relax her.
"I'm busy." She snapped at him.
"Ok. I was just coming to see if you wanted to sit down and have a glass of wine or something."
"I'm working, obviously."
"We can talk later then, I guess."
"Yeah, whatever." She stood and waited for him to close the door with her hands on her hips.
He backed out of the room and left her alone, feeling like he might start crying. This was something more than just having a little fight. Something was seriously wrong here, and he was going to find out what the hell it was. No matter what.
7.
Cara had no idea why she was so angry. She had been avoiding Ben ever since the thing in the basement. He had tried to console her and offer reasonable explanations for what happened. She heard herself telling him that he didn't care about her, and that he couldn't explain everything away. It was like she had no control over what was coming out of her mouth.
Even now, all he had done was look into her studio, and she had freaked out. What the hell was wrong with her? Maybe it was all the bad dreams she had been having lately.
Ben had looked like he had been slapped in the face.
She wasn't really in the mood to paint right now. Lately it had become like an obsession. She had to paint. It was like there was no choice in the matter. Before she went to the bathroom, before breakfast, she felt compelled to paint. The painting that she was working on actually scared her to death. She hated it and wanted to rip it up and throw it away, but she just kept working on it every day.
She cleaned her brushes and headed upstairs to the bedroom, wanting to lie down and rest. Then after her nap, she would sit down and talk to Ben. They would work this mess out and hopefully they would make love and be better again.
She went straight into the bathroom and got in the shower. Already feeling better, more like her old self again, she started to hum. That turned into full blown singing. Feeling great all of a sudden, she couldn't wait to finish her shower. She would call to Ben and they would take a nap together. She wanted to fall asleep wrapped in his arms.
She finished rinsing the shampoo from her hair and turned around to grab the bottle of cleanser. She squeezed some into her hand and starting massaging it onto her cheeks.
Something wasn't right. Her skin was burning and felt like it was crawling. As something came into her field of vision, she realized something else was crawling. Her hands and face were covered in red ants. They were biting her all over and crawling across the bridge of her nose. She screamed and plunged her face into the running water. She was scrubbing frantically to get them off. It felt like she was being stabbed by a thousand needles. The ants were being pulled down the drain with the swirling water.
Ben ran into the bathroom and flung open the shower curtain.
"What's wrong? What happened? Are you alright?" He asked in a panic.
"Get them off! It hurts!" She cried in terror.
"Get what off?" He was examining her to find out what was hurting her.
She looked down at her hands and saw nothing. She rubbed her face, but they were all gone, along with the pain. She looked at Ben, pleading for an answer in his face.
"Honey, there's nothing on you. What's wrong?" He looked at her and there was so much kindness and genuine concern in his eyes.
She burst into tears and fell against him. He helped her to the bed and got her a towel to wrap up in. She sat there by Ben's side and just sobbed for a while. He held her and said nothing. Finally she calmed down and told him what had happened.
Ben just sat and looked at her while she talked. He got up after she finished and left the room. Cara was hurt and confused by his behavior, and didn't understand why he just left her there. Then he walked back into the bedroom holding two glasses and a bottle of red wine. She laughed through her tears as he poured two very full glasses. He handed her glass to her and sat back down. He pulled her close to him and held her without saying a word while they finished off the bottle and drifted off to sleep.
8.
Cara awakened from her nap and reached over to touch Ben, but he wasn't there. Bad dreams again.
In his place was a note sitting atop a single daisy.
"Went to get some dinner. Love you." She read aloud. How had she gotten so lucky?
Cara hopped up out of bed, feeling energized from her nap. The events of earlier were far from her mind. After brushing her hair and checking her face, she went to the dresser to get her clothes. Maybe something sexy for Ben's return. She opened the drawer and retrieved a short, black nightie that she knew he loved. As she undressed, she noticed the small red spot on her stomach. It did not hurt or itch, but it hadn't been there earlier. It was strange, but it didn't occupy much of her time.
They would need more wine. She went downstairs and got a bottle of red.
She turned to go back upstairs and froze. The bottle of wine dropped from her hand and hit the floor with a thud. Sitting on the first step, smiling up at her, was Sally.
When Ben came through the door with the bag of chinese food, Cara broke from her paralysis.
"Why would you do that?" She asked, near tears.
"Do what, Babe?" He asked absently as he put the bag on the counter.
"My doll. Why would you get her out of the trunk?"
"I didn't get her out of the trunk. Didn't you put that in the basement?"
"Then how in the hell did she get there?" Cara was getting angry again.
Ben decided it was better to placate her than it was to argue.
"Oh, I must have forgotten. I brought her up so I could wrap her in plastic. I didn't want her to get wet down there in the basement." He lied.
Cara softened. They went upstairs and ate dinner while Ben wonder
ed how Sally got upstairs, and why.
9.
As Cara stood at the sink washing the dishes, she looked out over the front yard. It was a beautiful yard that she had worked hard to maintain. She felt a swell of pride as she looked at the perfect roses and the beautiful hedges. They had been living in the house just over two months, and things had been going well. Her painting had gone somewhat back to normal. Sally had been lovingly wrapped and placed back in her trunk in the basement.
The general sense of uneasiness remained, but they were happy with each other.
As Cara daydreamed about her near perfect life with Ben, she looked up from the sink and screamed.
There was a woman standing directly in front of the window looking in at her. The woman looked to be in her late seventies with long silver hair. Her dull blue eyes were surrounded by wrinkled tissue paper skin. Her gaze was steady and made Cara feel uneasy.
"Are you alright? Do you need help?" Cara asked through the glass.
"I need to speak with you, dear." The old woman reminded Cara of a witch in a fairy tale. "Can you come out and talk with an old woman?"
"Yes, hold on. I'll come out to the porch." Cara was a little scared of this lady, but she thought the woman might be in trouble. Cara grabbed two glasses and bottles of tea and went out to the porch. The old woman was already there. How had she moved so quickly?
Standing next to her, Cara's fear dissipated. The old woman was no more than five foot one and looked as though she would blow away in a strong breeze.
"Please, sit." Cara motioned to one rocking chair as she sat in the other.
"My name is Cara." She poured the tea.
"My name is Alice. Pleased to meet you, dear." Cara was reminded again of the kindly witch from Hansel and Gretel, luring in children with candy and pie.
"Pleased to meet you. What can I do for you, Alice?"
"You can leave this house and never come back." Alice said with a sweet smile.
"Excuse me?" Cara almost choked on her drink.
"How old do you think I am?"
"I don't know, sixty-five?"
"Pfft." Alice waved her hand as though Cara had said something ridiculous.
"How old are you, then?" Cara was getting impatient, but was still interested in what Alice had to say.
"One hundred and one years old today." Alice said with more than a touch of pride.
"Happy birthday. Alice, what is this all about?"
"You need to leave this place, before it's too late for you and your family."
"I don't know who you think you are.." Cara was really upset now.
"Did you find her picture?" Alice interrupted.
"What picture?" Cara asked incredulously.
"You know the one. The picture of Laura. The woman that built this place. My older sister."
"Listen lady, you had better stop this Yoda crap and tell me what the hell is going on!" Cara had lost any hint of patience.
"Dontcha yell at me, lil' girl! I'm risking my own safety to help you, so ya should have a lil' respect!" Alice snapped back, her Northeastern accent becoming more pronounced.
"I'm sorry, Alice. You're frightening me. I need you to tell me what's going on." Cara said, humbled at being chastised like a child.
"My sister, Laura built this home in 1920, the year I turned ten years old. She had inherited a healthy sum of money when her husband died of an unknown malady. She took the money and moved here from New York. She was twenty six at the time. A widow of that age during that time had very few options for employment. She had her husband's money, but it wasn't enough to last forever. So, she decided to open up shop as a midwife. She had a little nursing experience, and decided that she could put it to good use." Alice took a long drink of her tea. She waved a fly away from her face and continued on with her story.
"Laura was very happy for a short while. She had found out that before he died, her husband had gotten her pregnant. She told me that her plan was to raise her baby here in the house and continue midwifing. She began having pain and was bleeding, a lot. The Doctor examined her, and determined that her baby was dead. Laura was forced to carry her baby to term and deliver a dead child. Well, needless to say, she went a little crazy after that. She continued her work, but things started happening." Alice began coughing and took another drink of her tea.
"What kinds of things?" Cara asked, enthralled.
"Laura told my mother about a woman telling her terrible things. Then they started to die." Alice took another drink. She looked at Cara and her eyes bulged from their sockets. Alice clutched at her throat. Cara jumped out of her rocking chair when she realized that Alice was choking.
She had never done the Heimlich maneuver before, but she was going to try and save this woman. She grabbed Alice up out of the chair, got behind her and started her attempt at lifesaving. Alice struggled and her whole body hitched with every attempt at breath. Each attempt was weaker than the last. Cara dropped her back into the chair and ran inside to call 911.
This old lady needs to live so that I can hear the rest of the story. Cara thought to herself and then immediately felt terrible for her selfishness. When she got back outside, Cara realized that Alice would never finish the story of her big sister Laura. Alice was dead.
10.
When Ben pulled up to the house, the ambulance was just pulling away. He stopped the car and jumped out without closing the door. He ran up the steps to the house and burst through the front door.
"CARA? CARA?"
"In here."
"What the hell is going on? Are you alright? What happened?"
"I'm fine."
He burst into the dining room to find Cara seated at the table with her laptop in front of her.
"What happened? I saw the ambulance leaving."
"That was Alice." She said absently.
"Honey, please focus and tell me what happened before I freak out."
Cara proceeded to tell Ben the story of Alice and what had happened to her, leaving out a few details about Laura and the woman that bothered her.
"A woman died on our porch?" Ben asked disbelieving. He was amazed at the apparent lack of emotion from Cara.
"I tried to help her, but it was too late." She continued working at her computer.
Ben grabbed Cara by the shoulders and looked her directly in the face.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing, I'm just busy."
He let her go, assuming that she might be in shock. That was the only way that he could rationalize the fact that she didn't seem to care at all about the dead woman.
"What are you looking at?"
"Just checking out some stuff that Alice told me about the house."
"If you need to talk, I'm here."
"Alright." She was getting obviously irritated. She seemed to be irritated most of the time lately. Ben went to his study to try and figure out what was happening to Cara and how he could possibly help her.
11.
The painting had scared her while she was painting it, but now Cara liked looking at it. She decided to hang it in the hallway where she could see it every day. Ben had been putting in more hours at the office lately, so she was alone a lot. She thought the canvas might keep her company.
After retrieving her work of art from the studio, she took it upstairs. When she held it up to check for the best placement, she noticed something different about it. In the corner of the canvas, there was a white letter H. Cara knew that she had not put it there.
As she watched in disbelief, other letters appeared in ghostly white paint. E-L-P.
"Help? Help who?"
U-S.
"Who are you?" Cara was scared as hell, but also needed to know what this all meant.
B-A-B-I-E-S.
"What babies? I don't understand!"
Then the voices came. The sounds of coos and giggles, soft crying that sounded like it came from a nursery full of babies. The sweetest little girl was whispering from nowhere, "P
lease, help us. The bad lady scares us."
"Where are you? I'll help you, but I have to know where you are!"
"Down here, hurry!" The girl's voice was sounding more frightened.
"I'm coming!"
Suddenly, the painting in Cara's hand seemed to hurl itself down the stairs, tumbling to the bottom landing. She screamed as the framed pictures, one by one flew off the wall onto the floor. She ran downstairs to avoid being hit by one of them. The bedroom doors were opening and slamming like they were occupied by angry teenagers.
"Help us, she's mad now. She's coming, and when she gets here, she'll be so angry!" The little voice pleaded, terrified.
"Where are you?" Cara cried out again. "Why are you doing this?"
When Cara reached the foot of the stairs, she ran into the dining room. The chairs surrounding the table had all been pulled away, and the drawers of the hutch were open, the chandelier was in full swing. Cara looked around, on the edge of full blown panic now, and she saw her standing in the corner of the room. A little girl, no older than four stood there in a pretty pink lace dress with white buckled shoes. Her blond hair was pulled back with beautiful little ringlets surrounding her pudgy face. She reached her hand up towards Cara.
"Help." She mouthed the word, but no sound came out. Her little hand seemingly floated in the air.
"How do I help you? Where are you?"
"We're with Sally. Follow her." With that, an arm seemingly came straight out of the wall behind the girl and pulled her in as she uttered a soundless scream.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Cara screamed at the top of her lungs.
The another voice, a woman's voice, that sounded like what Cara imagined was pure evil, laughed the most chilling laugh Cara had ever heard outside of a horror film, and said, "They are mine."
"They who?" Cara asked, thinking she might lose her mind.
"All the little children."
Cara wasted no time getting her keys and running out the front door. When Ben answered his phone, she was crying hysterically.
"Ben, don't go home! Meet me at the library, right away." Without giving him time to argue, she hung up.