That night all the Alexa devices were unplugged. The family was in the living room watching a movie when the nightly stair run occurred. No one bothered to pause and take notice, and no one mentioned the abrupt stop midway down the hall. Even the dogs barely gave a chuff.
As they headed upstairs Hazel held her breath, fearing Mom or Dad might ask if she was planning on camping out on their couch again. The subject had not come up all day, and she was certain if she could just make it past this point Holden would never know.
Holden, being deprived of gaming the entire day, couldn't wait to get back to his computer. He rushed past them. "Good night, parental units, fair twin, sweet dreams to you all!" And he disappeared into his bedroom.
Hazel’s relief was quickly clouded by the realization that her only alternatives were to sleep alone in her room or ask her parents for a couch pass again. Deciding she didn't want to face the embarrassment, she hugged her parents and said, "Good night!" before heading to her bathroom to get ready for bed. She stood in the darkened doorway of her bedroom, dreading what she might find when she turned on the light. She flipped the switch and the blood-red words leaped from the walls in a blinding pulse. The tapestries had been removed again.
"Stop, please. I don't know how to help you. I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty room as she gathered the clothing that had been thrown about the room. She hurriedly flipped on her bedside lamp and turned the overhead light off. Softer light might soften the effect. She crumpled to the floor with a bundle of clothes in her hands and tears streaming down her face. The exhaustion and fear overwhelmed her and she felt helpless. Resigning herself to cover the words again, she stood on shaky feet and saw the words begin to lose color. Each letter slowly fading to pink before returning to their original, subdued hue. Even though this was more alarming than the first change, when the words went from a pale whisper to a red siren, and it was happening right before her eyes, she was more grateful for the change than scared by it and quietly said, "Thank you."
Shaken and restless, she hoped a long FaceTime sesh with Miren might help. But the edginess did not subside as she filled her friend in on all the unusual things that had been taking place, including the nightmares and the rude awakenings in the night. Hesitantly, she told Miren about seeing Laura Combs in her room.
"Whoa, Haze, have you checked your temperature lately? I'm not completely sure, but I think hallucinations might be a symptom of the virus," Miren joked.
"Mir, seriously, I don't know what to do. And to make matters worse, we are all just stuck here. It's not like you can head out for a day of shopping to take your mind off any of it." Her voice betrayed the tears she tried to hide. The claustrophobic nature of the situation made the whole thing a million times more dismal.
"I'm sorry. I hear you. My mom won't let me go anywhere. I am so over skateboarding up and down my own street. At least you have a pool. Everything is closed here, including the parks. But, yeah, I don't have a ghost, my cat didn't die, and my Alexa isn't losing her mind. So, okay, you win. By a landslide." Miren could always make Hazel laugh, which was what she needed right now, and she couldn't help but laugh at Miren's take on her completely insane situation.
"I don't know what to tell you, sorry,” continued her friend. “Hold a séance, burn some sage?"
Hazel laughed again. "Very valuable suggestions."
"Facts!" replied Miren.
Both girls were still laughing when the tablet screen began to glitch and Miren's face became a digitized Picasso rendering—an all-too-familiar sight in the days of constant Zoom meetings and Google Hangouts. Before Hazel gave up on their connection, the image became crisp again, only this time it wasn't Miren's face framed by the usual backdrop of her eclectic bedroom. The image that came forth was Laura Comb's face, peering at her from a murky blackness.
Hazel couldn't believe what she was seeing, but she couldn't look away. She jumped with shock, shoving the notebook away when what she thought was a static image lurched to life in a terrifying twitch and began to speak.
"Help me."
Tears ran down Hazel’s cheeks, and a feeling of complete helplessness crashed upon her as the Macbook landed on its side and the girl continued to speak.
"Help me."
She grabbed the device and slammed it shut. With trembling hands, she shoved it under her bed, wanting to distance herself from it.
Anger rose inside her. She had been feeling so good for the first time in forever. The long-overdue conversation with Miren had released much of the tension that had become her normal state. Seeing her best friend, laughing with her, had made her feel so much better, lessening the feeling of utter isolation. Of course nothing was solved. Miren couldn't offer her any sound advice, but getting some of it off her chest and sharing it with someone outside of the house had helped. To have it interrupted in such a manner brought back the feeling of helplessness. She didn't understand why she was being harassed like this. It really was harassment; she couldn't think of another word to describe the events and was angered by the relentless nature of the torment.
She had hoped all day for a good night's rest, and now it came due to sheer exhaustion as she lay in bed crying. At first, it was a deep sleep, so peaceful that she didn't hear the odd chime from her phone about thirty minutes after she crashed out.
The nightmare didn't stay away for long. The storm, the running, confusing imagery in the trees alight by lightning flashes, falling, being under water, red water, desperation, fear. She woke, thrashing and crying, as if she were trying to save herself from imminent peril. She reached for her phone to check the time. In her notification center was one icon she didn't often see, but she recognized. She clicked on the icon and was chilled by what she saw. She had missed the notification at midnight reminding her to check the pool. She dropped her phone and saw the open drawer and swimsuits lying about her floor. She grabbed her pillow and threw it over her head. Then she pulled her comforter on top of that and drew Coraline close. She refused to open her eyes, refused to acknowledge anything until the sun came up.
Twenty
Her hair clung to her face in a sweaty mess when she woke buried under a pile of pillows and blankets. Hot, grumpy, and far from well rested, she threw back the covers and lay in bed for some time contemplating her situation.
Something had to give soon. She couldn't go on sleeping so poorly and living in fear of what she might see in her bedroom when she woke. There was no way Holden would agree to swapping rooms with her. Maybe her parents would let her move into the workout room and relocate the fitness equipment into this room. It would be weird having her own washer and dryer, and Holden might complain about her getting an en suite bathroom. But the workout room was way smaller and again, having laundry machines in your room was pretty weird. Plus, there was no guarantee a move would make it all go away.
Begrudgingly, she got out of bed and headed down to let Coraline out. She didn't bother picking up the tangle of swimsuits that lay on her floor.
Mom and Dad were in the kitchen. Dad was already sporting his License to Grill apron and was prepping his "world-famous" ribs. Mom was busily making her "world-famous" potato salad. The people who had deemed these recipes world-famous remained a mystery to Hazel.
"Happy Fourth, Haze! How'd you sleep?" asked Mom.
"Better than some nights," she replied in a tone that was part sarcasm, part I'm still half asleep.
Dad chimed in, "I bet a day of soaking in some rays will make you feel right as rain. I'm making my world-famous ribs!"
Hazel trudged past them, wondering if Dad realized what he’d said or if he intended the oxymoron to be a joke. She decided not to mention anything about the FaceTime crasher, swimsuit drawer raider, nor the middle of the night pool reminder on her phone, but did wonder if she was the only one who had gotten the mysterious reminder. She went upstairs to change, picking a swimsuit from the pile on her floor. Outside her window she heard Mom hollering at Dad. She opened her curtains and f
ound dozens of ladybug carcasses on the window ledge. Her parents were prepping the pool for the festivities, and she gave herself a little pep talk in an attempt to brush off her foul mood. She could see her parents were going to great lengths to make the best of their quarantine Independence Day celebration.
Mom was already in the pool and Dad was at the grill when she joined them outside. The backyard looked as if guests were expected. The over-the-top decorations were too much for just the four of them. A new umbrella spanned the table that was filled with snacks and drinks. A celebratory playlist provided the perfect ambiance for the festive scene. New floats bobbed in the crystal pool and sunlight played on the water.
Even Phineas had a new inflatable. The dog looked ridiculous lounging on the float that was adorned with dog bones and collars, but Mom thought it was the most adorable thing ever as she guided him around the water, gushing about how cute he was.
As Hazel opened the safety gate, Coraline rushed past her, spying her water toy afloat near Phin's tiny boat. The dog galloped full speed and catapulted from the edge of the pool, knocking Phineas into the water; the little dog sank some distance before bobbing to the surface. The commotion knocked Mom's sunhat off her head, but she ignored it in her pursuit of saving her precious Phineas as he swam for the safety of the stairs.
Coraline paid no heed to the chaos she had caused as she came up from beneath the waves, toy in mouth, and paddled to the pool's edge. Mom made it to the stairs just in time for both dogs to climb out of the water and shake themselves off, showering her with wet dog droplets. Her sun hat drifting among the new floats punctuated the lunacy of the scene.
Dad was unaware of the calamity behind him as he carefully monitored the grill. Hazel wished she’d had her phone out to record the whole thing.
Holden walked out to find Hazel standing alone on the patio, cracking up.
"What'd I miss?" he said as the two descended the stairs.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
They feasted on ribs, corn on the cob, potato salad, and soda under the shade of the umbrella. Dad and Holden discussed the best spot to shoot off the fireworks left over from last year's normal celebration. After overeating, Mom and Dad cleaned up while Holden and Hazel did their best to wear Coraline out. They tossed her toy into the water over and over as the dog splashed in, dove deep, and retrieved the toy to drop it at their feet. It never got old, at least not to the dog.
Coraline did tire eventually and lay on the cool deck, drying in the sun as she dozed off. Phineas performed a thorough sweep under the table, gobbling up crumbs, then picked a spot to lie in the sun.
Holden grabbed the water football, took position at the not-so-deep, deep end, and tossed the ball to Hazel who stood in the shallow end. Mom and Dad got into the pool, awkwardly maneuvering themselves onto a new two-person float.
"What do you say, family? Isn't this turning out to be a great day?" Dad said, after finally getting himself into what he hoped was a stable position.
"Definitely," Mom chimed in. "Perfect weather, awesome food, good tunes… We are all together, safe and healthy. We couldn't ask for more!"
Hazel agreed, and she was feeling better than she had in days but hoped Holden would tire of tossing the football so she could take a nap on a float.
Even Holden forgot, for the time being, about what he might be missing online.
"Stellar day, Boomers!" he said, lifting the football overhead. Before he could release the ball, he felt a shift in the floor of the pool. His mind struggled to grasp what was happening as his foot sank deeper into the floor of the pool, dragging him beneath the waters' surface.
The holiday playlist stopped abruptly and was replaced by "Mad World" as Hazel saw a crack opening on the floor of the pool. A deep crevice slowly crawled across the bottom of the pool, moving toward her. The water sloshed wildly, spilling over the sides. Mom and Dad were knocked off their float.
Hazel's first thought was earthquake. Earthquakes weren't unheard-of in Oklahoma, and the family had been through a couple. Before these thoughts could culminate cohesively in her mind, something vile began to spill up from the fractured floor, permeating the pool as the crack grew wider, turning the water red.
"Get out of the pool!" she screamed, clambering for the stairs. "Get out of the water, now!"
Holden had already seen what Hazel had and was attempting to free himself from the undertow and lift himself out of the pool. The red substance bubbled up from the crack as blood might, from a deep wound. He struggled to escape, not wanting the red water to touch him, but was sucked back down into the growing chasm. He reached the surface in full-on panic and screamed for help. He had never been so scared.
Dad took action, his mind in fight mode as a rush of adrenaline gave him the strength to push Mom to the edge and boost her up out of the water. He lifted himself out next and ran to Holden, grabbing his hands and hoisting his son up.
The water continued to splash from side to side in ever mounting waves and the red anomaly blotted out the crystal blue water, leaving the pool looking like a literal blood bath. Both dogs barked feverishly at the edge of the deck, and the family grabbed onto one another, watching the ordeal in shock. The splashing subsided and after a few minutes the water was calm, though still red. The crack extended from one end to the other, just beyond each edge, at least eight inches wide. It looked as if the entire pool would collapse inward and disappear into the earth.
Dad looked up at the house. There was no apparent damage to indicate an earthquake of a magnitude that would cause this kind of damage.
"Stay here," he told the three as he cautiously approached the crack. Dozens of scorpions and centipedes writhed to escape the grip of twisted roots in the fissure that extended beyond the water's edge. "Everyone inside!" he yelled.
Once inside, Mom fussed over Holden first, grabbing a wad of paper towels, wiping his face and scrubbing his hair, the towel turning crimson as she did.
"Are you all right? Were you hurt?" Being assured by the twins that they had not been injured, she began searching the walls and ceiling, checking for signs that an earthquake had been the cause. But nothing was disturbed. A quick glance at social media proved that a tremor had not been felt by the masses. "What was that?" She now looked to Dad for answers.
He had none. "I have no idea," was all he had to offer.
With a shaky voice, Mom suggested, "We should all take showers, wash off whatever that might have been. What if it is some kind of chemical! Go! Go, take a shower. Now!"
Twenty-One
The search for a pool company that could address the abomination was slowed by the holiday weekend, but Dad found one in Oklahoma City. There was no time for vetting the best, so he took the first available. None of them wanted to look in the backyard to see what was happening with the pool.
Holden and Hazel took Phineas and Coraline out the front door, avoiding the backyard altogether. Mom closed all the curtains and blinds. She could block out the view, but not the memory of what had happened.
By the time Bryce Gleason with Sunscapes, Inc. showed up on Monday morning, the pool water level had dropped by almost a foot but the unsettling cerise hue remained. Bryce let out an ear-splitting whistle just as Dad opened the back door to meet Mr. Gleason outside. The man’s reaction sent the dogs into a barking frenzy that further unraveled Mom's frayed nerves. Hazel shushed the dogs and then separated the blinds to watch as Dad showed Mr. Gleason the damage.
The men spent an hour looking at the pool from seemingly every angle. They crouched down, maintaining distance from each other, while Mr. Gleason pointed to various things related to the pool and land. Dad nodded, looking dispirited even with half his face hidden behind a mask. When they finished their conversation, each man put their hands out in the long familiar and customary manner of shaking on it, but caught themselves before completing the act. Instead, they shared an awkward elbow bump, and Mr. Gleason walked back to his car and drove away.
<
br /> Dad stood in the middle of the yard looking from the quote Mr. Gleason had provided to the pool, shaking his head in disbelief. Reentering the house, he handed the paper to Mom. "It's about as bad as we thought."
Mom looked over the estimate. She had nothing to say.
"I had him go ahead and quote a diving pool. We might as well spring for it now since the whole thing has to be dug up anyway. Oh, and I promised you all a diving pool. I just didn't expect to get it so soon and under such unusual circumstances. He said they could have someone here tomorrow to start draining it, so work can start later this week."
"Should we get a second quote? Have someone else take a look?" Mom asked without looking up from the paperwork.
"We probably should. This will eat up our remodeling budget," agreed Dad. "But honestly, I just want to get it started, so we can get it over with. I don't want any more delays. I'm already tired of looking at the eyesore."
Handing the estimate back, Mom agreed. "You're right. I'd rather not waste any time. I can't stand looking at that, whatever that is. Let's get started. And yes, let's make it a diving pool."
The next day James Wheeler showed up to drain the pool. Mr. Wheeler did contract work for Sunscapes and owned a pool cleaning service in town, so he had the equipment necessary to start the process. He provided his own reluctant explanation.
"Stillwater is known for its red dirt and that crack goes pretty deep,” he said. “I'm guessing the dirt is giving the water its bloody appearance."
Red Water, Shadows of Camelot Crossing Page 10