Ropes in the Attic

by Edward Flora

Peter picked Michael up over his shoulder, carrying him up the stairs.

  Peter dropped him on the floor underneath the attic opening. He pulled the wooden stairs down and lifted Michael’s body over his shoulder once again. Peter ignored his swollen ankle and limped up the steps which nearly broke under the extra weight.

  “Good,” a condescending voice said from behind Peter as he dumped the body to the floor.

  Marshall stood there, holding out a hammer for Peter.

  “You made this mess…now clean it up,” he demanded as he handed Peter the hammer.

  Peter took the instrument in silence and walked back across the room, kneeling in front of the chest. Swinging the hammer, he broke open the floorboards. With each strike, flies begun to scatter out of the hole in the floor, stretching out their wings and moving about the attic for the first time in over a decade.

  A small hideaway beneath the floor revealed a grizzly reality which lived in the attic all along.

  The decomposing corpse of Lauren Rivers.

  Peter’s face remained unphased upon discovering the girl from the lake in her true form. It had been an obscure progression: The first sighting of a seemingly normal girl, which had only been, at most, odd. Then each time after, life seemed to fade away as she had not aged a day.

  He stood up from re-opening the hideaway in the floor and turned back towards Michael. Grabbing him by the ankles, Peter dragged the lifeless body across the attic floor and dumped it into the opening next to Lauren. He straightened himself out and prepared to leave the attic when he was stopped once more.

  “Hold on now,” demanded Marshall. “You’re not finished yet. You can’t just leave it like that.”

  Peter picked up the hammer and began nailing the slabs of loose flooring back into place. Leaving Michael along with the remains of Lauren presumably never to be found.

  He stood up again, walking across the room in a trance. Leida stood in the foreground of her tapestry, now with her eyes closed. Something bizarre took place: her body ridged and stiff turning solid grey. As the rows of candles blazed like they had not burned out for 15 years, Leida began devolving into stone. Marshall, however, was gone.

  Leida’s eyes sealed shut like cement.

  Peter took the folded-up rope from the table, draping it over his own neck before making his way back down the stairs.

  *BEEP BEEP*

  The sound of Dani locking her car from the driveway snapped Peter out of his trance. Suddenly, Leida was gone and the arrangement of candles had burned out. He threw the rope back onto the table before retreating to his office.

  “Peter?” Dani called out as she walked into the front entrance. She found it weird that Michael’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. Surely, he would have been there by now with the boxes.

  Peter remained silent. He sat down at his desk overlooking the lake once more.

  “Peter?” she called out again. “Did Michael come by earlier with boxes?”

  He was unresponsive. Why would Michael stop by with boxes? He just stared out at the lake.

  Dani trembled as she climbed the stairs and approached Peter’s office. She had no idea how to approach Peter or bring up their agreement to leave the house. Especially if he had been drinking again. He would be unpredictable and she feared for their daughter.

  Dani entered the office and peered around the back of the chair. “Peter?”

  Startled at Dani’s sudden presence behind him, he blurted out the first words that registered in his mind. “Yeah, sorry, he was here. He left some boxes downstairs in the garage.”

  Dani, not satisfied with the answer, scanned Peter’s face for a moment. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Just dozed off a bit after I sat down, I guess…I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “What are you doing up here?” she asked followed by a subtle sniff of the air. No lingering trace of stale booze.

  “Just had to backtrack my last few pages today because of continuity. Something didn’t make sense in my head and I just felt frustrated. Nothing I can’t handle though. I’m okay,” he assured her.

  Dani leaned her arms on the back of the chair, her eyebrow arched. “More revisions, huh?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I know it’s the weekend. I’ll be right down as soon as I finish up.”

  “Okay.” She put her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Let’s order something to eat when you’re done. I’m going to call Olivia while you finish up here.”

  She turned to leave when Peter stopped her with his own question. “What were the boxes for?”

  She paused before joining Peter again at his side. She knew this conversation needed to happen and that it wouldn’t be easy. Or maybe it would be, and he still felt the same way about leaving. She took a deep breath and pleaded to a higher power that he in fact was sober.

  “Peter, we made an incredible attempt at a fresh start but circumstances are different now. We aren’t home. This place…it’s just not where we belong. We’ve always talked about starting a family. Now that we’re about to become one, the only thing that’s missing is being home. Our family deserves a true home, not an escape. I think it’s time we go back home. Remember what we agreed?”

  Peter listened attentively without breaking eye contact with Dani until she finished. When she stopped, he simply looked back out towards the lake. “You’re right.” He looked back at her once again. “It’s time for us to go home.”

  Relief washed over Dani. She thought for sure this would turn into a recurring argument, but Peter didn’t seem to be putting up a fight at all. Maybe he really had changed. Maybe the Peter of old was truly a thing of the past and he was ready to put the family first. Just maybe he hadn’t slipped into old habits. This was the first time in a while that she felt they were actually on the same page.

  Dani leaned in to kiss Peter. “Let me know what you want to order. I’ll see you downstairs.” She turned and left the office.

  Peter sat there and returned his focus back to the lake. There was Laura Rivers. Standing just beyond the threshold of the fence. Her usual spot. She gazed up in the direction of the house. Into the window? It was hard to tell from this distance. Peter smiled subtly though as not to be rude to his neighbor.

  “This is a nice neighborhood,” a voice from the doorway proclaimed. “You and Dani could raise a family here one day.”

  Marshall joined Peter at his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “One girl and one boy,” Peter droned as he continued to fixate on the lake. “And a dog too, like we’ve always wanted…Perhaps when the weather gets warmer, we can go for a walk down to the lake. As a family.”

  Together as a family.

  By the lake.

  By the lake…

  By the…

  …Lake…

  He began typing these ideas that flowed from his head. He was a natural. This book would be complete in no time. Then the purpose of this move would be a success.

  Sense of purpose.

  Peter with his renewed sense of purpose typed away. From behind the chair, another familiar voice bid, “One more couldn’t hurt.”

  Leida loomed behind Peter and Marshall who continued to admire the view. He looked down finding the top desk drawer opened. His anxiety meds had been replaced.

  “Can’t let a perfectly good scotch go to waste,” Marshall chimed in.

  Peter reached into the desk, pulled out the bottle of scotch and poured it into his empty coffee mug.

  The amber liquid swirled into his mug. Although he had done his best to abstain from drinking for a long time, this was different. He didn’t want to be rude to his hosts. This was, after all, a celebration.

  Cheers to starting a family.

  As is the case so many times: You’re out celebrating something, could be anything. You can’t be the only one who doesn’t partake. That would be rude. They invited you out on this special occasion. You said you’d only have one but somehow you end up six cocktails deep. You end
up to the point where rationalization goes out the window. You begin debating with yourself maybe one more couldn’t be that bad. The next round is making its way around and everybody is having a great time.

  “Cheers to your new forever home,” Marshall proclaimed.

  Peter’s muscles had already made the decision for him as he poured the scotch into the mug. The table had been set.

  “One for the road,” and he toasted to Marshall, Leida, the lake and his book.

  He raised the mug to his lips and let the booze trickle down. A crushing pain jolted his head. It felt like something coming down on his skull from above…or below…it felt like a diving board.

  Peter stood up from the desk wobbling a bit before finding his balance, the distant glaze back in his eyes. What little control he had over his muscles was now gone. At the mercy of whatever came next, he didn’t know where his body was taking him.

  “She’s trying to make you leave,” Marshall said. Blood continued to spill from his head wound and began to stain his white dress-shirt. “You have to finish what you started.”

  He pulled himself back up the steps into the attic. The wooden steps now had specks of blood on them. Peter thought, where did this blood come from? There seemed to be a blank spot in the part of his memory which held the answer.

  “Take care of this…you can’t leave.”

  The rope rested back on top of the chest, coiled neatly into a noose. Strange how it was inside the chest once upon a time ago, after Leida had hung from it in this very attic. He had even witnessed her hanging from the damned thing first hand. Or was that a dream?

  That was real…this is the dream.

  Peter agreed.

  Although, he could no longer differentiate between what was reality and what was fiction. He had lost touch. This house had a strange way of re-organizing objects and memories as it seemed fit despite the residents who lived inside of it.

  Peter picked the noose up off the chest, draping it over his own neck once again. It fell off his shoulders, hanging there as an ornament. He used the rope’s additional slack and wrapped it around the typewriter. Once he was bound to the device, he turned back and started towards the stairs. The floor creaked loudly as he walked over Michael and Laura’s forever resting place.

  “Hi, I’d like to place an order for a delivery.” Dani opted for Thai food. Thought they’d try something new since Peter didn’t give any input on what he wanted. She thought she’d surprise him. She balanced the phone in between her ear and shoulder while using both hands to scrub a few dishes in the sink.

  “You need to show her this is your home now,” Marshall’s voice rang in Peter’s head.

  Peter’s leg muscles tensed as they worked extra hard to keep quiet going down the steps. He didn’t want to draw attention to Dani in the kitchen. The swollen ankle added to the challenge of not spilling down the steps with the weight of the typewriter now pulling its host as well. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked at Dani, facing away from him in the kitchen. A wave of regret befell him and he turned the other way and dragged himself out the front door avoiding her.

  His clean pair of sneakers crunched down on the day-old coating of snow. The grassy, dirt-mixed snow left an unpleasant stain on the white soles. A matter which normally would have driven Peter mad. But the strings of his brain were being pulled, driving him forward despite the mess on his footwear. He dredged forward towards the lake cradling the tied-up typewriter in his arms.

  Dani looked up from the kitchen sink, phone still cradled beneath her ear to see Michael’s truck parked near the back entrance of the house. She froze, staring out the kitchen window.

  “Peter?”

  No answer.

  She hung up the phone and moved closer to the window, peering out. She wondered if Peter lied about Michael earlier. Still, there was no sign of her brother. A sharp chill attacked her bones and she turned in a panic to search for her missing brother. Dark formations stained the walls and ceiling of the entire room.

  “PETER! WHAT’S GOING ON?”

  Dani ran from the window. She cried out as the brownish-red stains on the walls spread. The room grew dark as drops of the murky liquid fell from above.

  Outside, Peter’s left foot broke the surface of the water. The initial shock of the cold lake shot through his body. It jolted his eyes open. He forced himself into the water and away from harming the one who cared about him.

  Dani bolted up the stairs, the stains covering the walls followed her all the way up to the second floor. Her nostrils hit with a rancid smell. She burst into the office to find it unoccupied.

  The view from the window revealed Peter waist deep into the lake.

  “PETER!”

  She yelled out but knew very well that he couldn’t hear her. She ran back out of the house and towards the water.

  As Peter sunk deeper, he let go of his grip on the typewriter and it descended quickly into the lake’s murky depths. The weight connected to the rope jerked his neck down and below the surface. His mouth remained closed preventing the rush of water, but the lack of oxygen was swift to take effect.

  Peter calmly opened his eyes and he was back in the swimming pool, floating down there helplessly in front of a crowd of panicked onlookers. As he felt the oxygen slipping away, an array of images flashed from across the pool.

  Dani cradling a baby.

  The clock ticked.

  Wondering if this was the right path. It was too late as he had made his choice. It became the only path. He closed his eyes once more and drifted into his watery grave.

  When Dani arrived, she jumped into the water after Peter. Quickly finding a grip on the rope she pulled it up, but it came up empty. No sign of Peter or even the typewriter.

  She screamed out loud as she pulled herself out of the lake. Her cry echoed throughout the lake like the emptiness of the abandoned bookshop on Main.

  She slowly made her way back towards the house, drenched from the sorrow of Lake Piermont, her heart numb. None of it made any sense. Peter was gone. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she felt regret of not pushing to leave Piermont sooner.

  Dani found herself marching back into the attic.

  The room was exactly how she had found it on moving day. The boxes and the candles creating a throne for the stone-faced killer herself. The candles burned brightly, as if for the first time. They cast thin shadows on the floor, pointing towards the exit.

  A look of grim satisfaction shone on the statue’s face. Dani wanted to give a piece of her mind, but she knew it was impossible as Leida was now an inanimate object. Exactly how she was found on day one.

  The two locked eyes. An exchange of words was not necessary.

  The rage overtook Dani and she gave into vengeance. With all she had left, she pushed over a stack of boxes. The candles perched on the stack toppled over, igniting everything around them. The boxes caught fire easily, soon spreading towards the stack of papers and articles stowed away for years in the attic. Those went up in flames too, burning evidence of the heinous crimes that took place in this house.

  The stone figure remained unphased, casting down shadows over Dani through the flames. She already got what she wanted. This act of revenge would not bring Peter back nor would it bring back Lauren Rivers.

  The second tower of boxes went up in flames. It was time to leave.

  Dani dashed down the stairs, out of the house, coughing as she tried to avoid inhaling smoke. For her own sake, but also for the sake of the baby.

  She stumbled out into the snow of the front lawn, overwhelmed and struggling to catch her breath. She looked back up at the dreaded house as smoke billowed from the attic window. The flames began spreading beyond their flash point.

  There was nothing left here. She stood up, grasping her belly. The wellbeing of her child was now her priority.

  She got into her SUV and took one last look at 108 Parkridge Way. Peter would no longer be joining her and the baby on their journey ba
ck to Brooklyn. However, that was where hope resided.

  A deep part of Dani knew what Peter had done…to them and for them. While starting over as a family was the plan, it would have to be done alone. He chose the road that would allow their daughter a chance, even if it meant going on without him.

  “Vera,” Dani whispered. The name of their little girl would be Vera.

  She shifted the SUV into drive and pulled out of the driveway one last time. She thought about the road less traveled. The road her and Peter traveled together. Whether any of the decisions they made on the journey could have prevented this outcome. If there was any other way.

  The only thing that remained certain was that they were heading home.

  Dani felt every little bump as the tires gripped the roadway. Each and every little imperfection of I-287. She felt them all as she wished she didn’t have to make the trek back home alone. The only thing she couldn’t feel was the other presence occupying the SUV. Beneath the backseat was Johnathan’s once missing Iron Man toy, now along for another journey.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank everyone who has shown me support and excitement throughout this process. To my parents. To my sister, Lucy; my brother-in-law, Kevin; and my nephew, Giacomo. To Tara, for always supporting my ideas no matter how outlandish…you make it easy. To Alex for reading this thing endlessly. To everyone else who has sent me words of encouragement and stuck by me through the crazy stuff. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I love you all.