“It’s just up ahead,” Ichiro said. Jacob heard a quiet note of fear in his friend’s voice. “Through that marsh.”
They passed the final few cottages that lined the shore and paddled into the marsh in silence.
The air around them replied with more silence. Jacob and Ichiro were accustomed to the odd stillness of Sepequoi Lake, but Hayden and Hannah both seemed confused.
“What is that?” Hannah said.
“You feel it too?” Hayden asked. “My ears feel like they’re about to pop.”
“Happens every time,” Ichiro said. “You get used to it.”
“There must be, like, some sort of magnetic field around here or something,” Hannah said. “Think some weird kind of rock in those cliffs across the lake is causing it?”
“Maybe,” Jacob said. Or maybe, he thought, it’s the island. But he kept that to himself. The twins, he knew, would come to their own conclusion about the truth. All in good time.
Slap!
“Ow!” Hayden said, throwing his paddle into the bottom of the canoe. He spun around and scowled at his sister. “You slapped me again. What was that for?”
“That was for humming. It was creeping me out.”
“I wasn’t humming!”
“Jacob? Was it you?” Hannah asked, with a mix of skepticism and confusion. “Or Ichiro?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“I swear I heard someone humming, and when I find out which one of you is lying to me—”
“It was the island’s song,” Jacob said.
“The what?”
“Let me guess: Did it sound like a lullaby?”
Hannah took a deep breath and nodded.
“It’s called Brahms’ Lullaby, and I hear it too,” Jacob said. “Every time I come here. I hear it in the water. I hear it in the wind. I hear it in my very own heartbeat as if it’s infecting the blood in my veins. It’s like a disease, but … but I’m drawn to it.” He shook his head and looked up from the water, then behind. The twins were both staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths.
Hayden half-turned to his sister. “Yeah, he was totally the one humming. Next time, hit him first, not me.”
“It wasn’t him,” Ichiro said. “He’s telling the truth. It even played all on its own from an old record player in the house the second time we came out here.”
“Do you want to turn back, bro?” Hannah said.
“Nah. You?”
“Not at all.”
Jacob turned back around to face the bow and resumed paddling toward the island.
You will, he thought.
* * *
As they walked along the overgrown path from the rickety dock to the house, ducking under branches and weaving around nettle bushes, Jacob could have sworn he heard something odd every now and again — a fifth set of footsteps, sometimes trailing them, sometimes to the left or the right, sometimes straight ahead. And just before they left the woods and entered the clearing where Summer’s End sat in wait for them, the sound of the footsteps pounded in his head.
He decided not to tell the others.
Not only did it seem far-fetched, but he was also afraid — and not entirely surprised — that the pattern of the footsteps had matched the beat of Brahms’ Lullaby.
* * *
“I stand corrected,” Hannah said. They stood inside the front foyer, taking in all of the dust and decay. “This place isn’t paradise. It’s heaven.”
Hayden nodded agreement. “Totally cool. You should’ve brought us here sooner. I bet this house has a hundred secrets, and now we only have half a summer to discover them.”
“We can come back after school starts,” Hannah said. “Well, until the lake freezes over.”
“Not even,” Hayden said. “Ichiro’s parents are selling the canoe at the end of summer, remember?”
“It’s too bad,” Ichiro said. “Blake told us his older brother and all his friends used to hang out on the island when they were in high school.”
“He also told us that it freaked them out and they all moved out of town the first chance they got,” Jacob said.
“Good point,” Ichiro said. “So you’re all actually lucky I’m moving away.”
“Should we be here at all?” Hayden asked. “If the house freaked out a bunch of teens and the island split up a group of friends, shouldn’t we leave, like, now?”
“As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine,” Jacob said. “Ichiro and I have been here a couple of times and nothing has hurt us. Besides, if anything happens we can always get out and head straight back home.”
Hayden nodded, but he still didn’t look comfortable with the idea.
“You’re all talking like this place is actually haunted or cursed or something,” Hannah said. She eyed Jacob and Ichiro. “Did either of you two actually see a ghost when you came here?”
“Blake said his brother’s friend saw the doctor and his wife,” Ichiro said.
“I asked if either of you saw a ghost, not if either of you had heard a third-hand account about something that happened years ago from an unreliable source about a kid none of us have ever met.”
Relatively certain what Hannah’s response would be, but with nothing else to say, Jacob said, “And we heard running feet, laughter and screams.”
“Precisely!” Hannah exclaimed triumphantly, actually raising her finger in the air like an overly exuberant prosecutor proving a point. “You heard. You didn’t see anything. It’s an old building. It creaks and groans. It’s probably full of animals — raccoons and possums and rats.”
“Rats?” Hayden said quietly, casting a nervous glance at the floor and shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Yeah, rats. The footsteps you heard were probably just a bunch of rats scurrying through the house.”
“And the laughter?” Jacob asked. “The screams?”
“The laughter could have been chittering squirrels. And have you ever heard raccoons fighting? They shriek like a couple of people who are killing each other.”
Jacob knew what he heard hadn’t been animals, but he wouldn’t be able to convince Hannah. Moreover, he didn’t want to fight about it. All he wanted to do was explore a little deeper and hopefully find some more clues about what happened to the Stockwells.
“Fine. It’s possible we were mistaken.”
“Of course it’s possible,” Hannah said. She took a few steps down the hall, then turned back to face them. “And once we’ve spent a few uneventful hours here you’ll—”
Hannah paused. She cocked her head, looked under the front-hall table, then bent to the floor.
“What is it, Hannah?” Hayden asked. The four words tumbled out of his mouth in one uninterrupted sound.
She picked something up and examined it in the dim light. It glittered faintly. “It’s a necklace.”
Jacob looked a little closer. It was the necklace with the pendant in the shape of the letter C, the one they had found taped to the back of the picture frame on the front-hall table the first time they’d been there.
“If you three guys don’t mind, I think I’ll keep it.” Hannah slipped the chain over her head and tucked the pendant under her shirt.
Jacob didn’t think that was wise, but he knew Hannah didn’t have anything nice like that of her own. He didn’t respond, nor did the other two boys.
“So, have you already explored the entire house?” Hannah asked.
“No, just the main floor,” Ichiro said. “We looked down the stairs, but I’m in no rush to go all the way down there. We haven’t been upstairs at all yet.”
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s check out the second floor.” Without waiting to gain approval from the others, Hannah walked down the hall and up the stairs. Hayden and Ichiro followed.
Jacob couldn’t resist peeking into the doctor’s office and nursery on his right, and through the adjoining room with the cots. The basement door at the back of the room was still open a crack. He
quickly looked away and hurried to catch up with the others.
The wooden steps creaked loudly as he made his way up the stairs. Jacob found Ichiro and Hayden moving slowly along the hallway, tentatively peering into bedrooms but not entering them. Hannah was walking around like she owned the place, entering rooms and exiting them moments later.
“The bedrooms are full of antique furniture,” Hannah said in disbelief. “I feel like we’ve entered some sort of portal and gone back a hundred years. It’s bizarre.”
Hayden took a step into the nearest bedroom, looked left to right, then stepped back into the hall. “Why is the furniture still here? If it weren’t for the way the house looks from the outside, I’d think someone still lives here.”
“Someone probably still owns the house,” Jacob said.
“Then why wouldn’t they live here?” Hayden said. “Or sell the property? I bet this island’s worth a fortune.”
Jacob could only shrug.
“Are you guys going to stand around in the hall talking all day?” Hannah said, as she walked out of one bedroom and into another without slowing.
It was enough to get the three boys moving. No one wanted to appear scared. Their paths criss-crossed as they went from room to room, pausing to open dresser drawers and closets, and peer under furniture for anything that might be hidden or forgotten. Most of the furniture was made of dark wood and was adorned with intricate carvings and designs. Beds, nightstands, tables and chairs filled each room. It was like walking through an old house that had been turned into a museum.
After swarming through the second floor like insects in search of food, the four friends congregated in the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway.
“Did anyone find anything interesting?” Jacob asked.
The other three shook their heads.
“Me neither.”
“I take it no one bumped into any ghosts, either, right?” Hannah asked, with a cocky smile. “Or bumped through any ghosts, I guess I should say.”
“No, Hannah, we didn’t see any ghosts.” But we didn’t see any animals either, Jacob thought.
“Hey, look at that,” Ichiro said. He crossed the room and lifted an ornate frame off a nightstand.
“What is it?” Hannah asked.
“An empty picture frame.” It was small and square.
“What’s so special about that?” said Hayden.
“There was another one downstairs on the hall table that was empty too. We found the picture that had been ripped out of it hidden in a drawer in the dining room. It was from James and Tresa’s wedding day.”
“Maybe this frame has always been empty,” Hannah said.
“Maybe,” Ichiro said. “But I doubt it. Who would keep an empty frame beside their bed?”
“Come to think of it,” Jacob said, “I haven’t seen a single photograph on display in the entire house.”
“Maybe they were too busy framing words and quotes,” Hannah said. She pointed at a frame mounted on the wall above a large wooden wardrobe.
A mother’s love for her child is like
nothing else in the world.
“They’re all over the house,” Ichiro said. “They give me the creeps.”
Hannah unlatched the wardrobe’s large doors. They squealed open slowly.
“Jackpot!” she said.
Inside were a dozen or so women’s outfits dangling from metal hangers. Hannah pulled one out. It was black, long and sleek and seemed to have been spun out of silk thread that sparkled in the room’s dusty light.
Hannah held it up to her shoulders. The bottom of the dress touched the floor. “This is beautiful. Too bad it’s not my size.”
“Yeah, you could’ve worn it with your new necklace,” Hayden said.
“The necklace I can conceal. There’s no way I could keep this from Dad.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that dress is your style,” Jacob said.
“Just because I don’t have anything similar to it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to.” Hannah pulled out more outfits, each one from a bygone era and clearly expensive, the type of dresses women wore to balls and gala events. In the bottom drawers there were also hats, shoes and purses to match the clothing. Hannah got to the end of the outfits and examined the final one.
“One of these things doesn’t belong,” she said with a singsong voice.
It was a long white gown, covered by a white apron. A small white hat fell out of the ensemble and landed on the floor at Hannah’s feet. The only splash of colour was the red cross on an armband stitched on to the left sleeve. “It’s an old nurse’s uniform,” she said. She tossed it onto the bed and turned back to the wardrobe. “I like the expensive dresses better.”
Jacob looked at the nurse’s outfit for a moment and then walked toward it. He felt drawn to it, almost the same way he felt drawn to the island. He ran his hand over the armband, the thin ridges of thread gently scraping over his fingertips like the stitching of a baseball. When his fingers alighted on the cross, he saw a flash of a cardinal’s wing followed by a red ball cap, and then the cross was just a cross again. He shivered and quickly withdrew his hand.
“What is it?” Ichiro asked, suddenly at his side.
Jacob hadn’t noticed or heard his friend approach. He shook his head. “Nothing. Do you think James and Tresa worked together?”
“Maybe, but who knows if this was even hers?” Ichiro’s voice softened as the sentence drew to a close. He noticed something sticking out from under one of the bed’s pillows and pulled it free.
It was a square black-and-white photograph of Tresa. She was wearing the nurse’s outfit. The image was a little blurry, but she was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a hospital room. Against the walls on her left and right were a dozen cots, each one occupied by children of different ages.
Ichiro turned the photograph over and revealed handwriting on the back. It simply read,
Tresa Stockwell
& Tuberculosis Patients
1915
“I guess now we know the nurse’s outfit was Tresa’s,” Ichiro said. He turned the picture back over and examined it again. “This picture would’ve fit the square frame on the nightstand, but that doesn’t answer why someone hid it.”
Jacob looked from the uniform to the dresses on the bed to the now-empty wardrobe. He noticed something odd. It was easy to miss, but there was a small panel of wood in the back, at the bottom, that looked slightly out of place. Upon closer investigation, Jacob realized what had caught his eye. The wood grain of the wardrobe was vertical, while the wood grain in the area he’d noticed was horizontal. “Speaking of hidden things …” he said, as he knocked on the panel. It sounded hollow. He punched the wood and the small square popped loose.
“Cool!” Hannah and Hayden said in unison.
Jacob reached into the small secret compartment and pulled out a handful of ripped paper.
“Whoa, what’s that?” Ichiro said, forgetting about the photograph of Tresa.
Jacob spread the paper out on the bed and examined the pieces more closely. “It’s an envelope,” he said, picking up a corner piece and pulling a smaller piece of paper out of it. “And there’s a torn-up letter inside.” He unfolded the jagged slip of paper and read the cursive handwriting on it.
12 August 1915
Dear Albruna,
Ichiro peered over Jacob’s shoulder. “Who’s Albruna?”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know, but this was written the same year that photograph was taken,” said Jacob, he put the pieces of paper in his pocket. “We can assemble the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle and tape them together back home, then try to figure out what it says.”
After agreeing, Hannah and Hayden turned their attention back to all the clothes they had pulled out of the wardrobe. Ichiro examined the photograph a little further. Jacob found himself drawn to the nurse’s apron again.
He picked it up and reached into the pocket without thinking. His han
d touched something wet and slimy.
Jacob pulled his hand out of the pocket and held it up to his face. His eyes went wide and his breath latched in his throat.
His hand was coated in blood.
Thick red rivulets ran down his fingers and pooled in his palm. It stank of wet copper and death. Jacob’s skin crawled as he stood paralyzed and repulsed.
“What’s the matter, Jake?”
Ichiro had spoken, but he sounded far away.
Jacob couldn’t think what to say. He looked back at his hand, only now …
It was clean.
There was no trace of blood, wet or dry, anywhere on his skin.
Ichiro’s face was tight with concern. “I said, what’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing,” Jacob said. He laughed, hoping he didn’t sound nervous. “I’m just …” He swallowed dryly. “I’m just not feeling all that great. I think I need some fresh air.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, no, that’s all right. Stay with Hannah and Hayden and come out whenever they’re done doing … whatever it is they’re doing.”
They were trying on hats and shoes from the wardrobe and prancing around the room as if it was their own personal catwalk, pausing only to laugh at each other’s ensembles.
“You sure?” Ichiro asked.
Jacob nodded and left the room before Ichiro could say anything else.
* * *
The sun was at its high point in the sky, weighing down on the world with the full force of its oppressive heat. There was very little shade in the clearing and Jacob didn’t want to remain on the covered front porch, so he walked a few paces into the woods and sat heavily against a thick maple tree. He stared at his clean hand.
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. He was certain it had been covered in blood. And furthermore, he’d felt the blood before he’d even pulled his hand out of the pocket. Seeing things was bad enough, but how could he explain feeling things?
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