The House Guest

by Rosa Sophia

  She was moving closer. Kat wanted to turn and run back to bed. Maybe Jake would be there again, curled up beneath the warm blankets. She couldn’t move.

  “Katherine?” her grandmother continued. “Could I please have it back? Please? Katherine? Katherine…”

  ***

  Kat shot up in bed, her heart pounding and bolts of electricity surging maniacally through her body. Each hair was charged and each bit of her was dripping with cold sweat, but when she saw the sunlight plastering the far wall, gloriously illuminating the room, she began to relax.

  “Katherine, sweetie? Are you okay?” When Jake set his hand on her arm, she was so frightened she nearly hit the ceiling. “Calm down,” he urged her. “What’s wrong?”

  It took her a few moments before she could speak. She curled up beside him, fighting to push the sweat soaked sheets off her body.

  “What time is it?” she finally muttered through tears she was trying to suppress.

  “Ten o’clock. I figured I would let you sleep. I’ve been up since eight-thirty, just doing things around the house, cleaning up the summer kitchen. Did you have a nightmare? Or in this case, a morning-mare?”

  “Cute.” Kat sighed and sat up, resting her head against Jake’s chest. “I had a horrible dream.” She explained the whole thing to him and by the time she was finished, Jake appeared bemused, lost in the images she had described.

  He raised an eyebrow and said, “Hmm. That’s definitely odd. I would say, I wonder what it means, but I know you would shoot that down in a second.”

  “No, Jake.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve already started wondering if maybe this whole paranormal thing is real.” The words stuck in Kat’s mouth like peanut butter. She had trouble expelling them, but once she had said it, it didn’t seem so bad anymore. “Maybe there’s something wrong. Maybe my grandmother…no, what am I saying? That’s ridiculous.”

  “You were going to say you thought maybe your grandmother was trying to tell you something, weren’t you?” Jake stood from the bed and turned off the fan in the window. Kat hated it when he did that, because it was so damn hot, but she knew he was only trying to keep the electric bill low. She sighed heavily and let her face fall into the nearest pillow.

  “I can’t believe I would even consider something as stupid as ‘my grandmother is contacting me from the other side,’” Kat said incredulously, her voice slightly muffled. Her hand passed in front of her face and she saw the ring, glinting in the morning light. She loved it. As afraid as she was of the visage of her grandmother, she had become attached to the ring. It was a part of the past and not only had Kat always loved antiques, but this was also a part of her family.

  Kat swung her legs over the edge of the bed and walked over to the dresser, naked and lightly bitten by the chilly air of the bedroom.

  “I don’t think you should worry about this dream,” Jake said. “It’ll only make you upset. Besides, your grandmother is dead now.” He started to walk toward the door as Kat pulled on a pair of underwear and a red tank top.

  “Jake,” she began, “I’ve never had a dream that seemed as real as that one. I thought I was awake.”

  “So? That could have happened if you were dreaming about grocery shopping. You know how dreams are.”

  “Still.” She pulled on a long black peasant skirt that reached her ankles and slipped on a pair of sandals. “It was creepy.”

  “I know. I’ll be downstairs. Some of the things in this house that need fixing are just as creepy. Terrifying, even.” He sighed and headed out the door.

  ***

  The creek near the house sparkled under the noonday sun, just before clouds enveloped the golden orb and the water turned dark again. Kat had been admiring the creek from the hill on their front lawn as she gathered her things for a small picnic. Since having her dream the night before, she wanted to spend as little time inside as possible, as though Julie Maslin might inadvertently appear to beg for her ring back.

  Carrying a picnic basket and an over-shirt, just in case it should rain, Kat went off in search of a good spot. She knew the wooded area behind their house didn’t extend very far, but she was hoping she would be able to find a nice little clearing. There was a rug packed in her basket that she was planning to lay out on the grass or moss. Jake waved to her from one of the second floor windows, and then Kat stepped into the tangle of trees.

  Some of the maples seemed rather old, their thick trunks extending to warped finger-like branches that reached out over the deer paths, their leaves giving Katherine shelter from the sun. She was glad she’d found the narrow passageway; it made it easier to traverse the thick forest area. She spent most of the time watching the ground in order to dodge roots and other such obstacles. After about fifteen minutes had passed, Kat stopped and looked up. She saw trees ahead of her, standing tall, their leaves rustling in the breeze, but she didn’t hear the sounds of children playing, which she had expected once she knew she was getting closer to the development beyond the property.

  Having found not a single clearing, she sat down on a thick tree root and put her basket before her. She assumed she must have veered off to the right in her travels, which might have taken her to another section of the woods, one that gave birth to an even larger area farther down the path. Kat leaned up against the tree and closed her eyes.

  She must have drifted off for a moment or so, because she was jolted to full wakefulness when a crack of thunder surged through her eardrums, making her jump. Trees creaked above her. Wind tore through the canopies of leaves and broke twigs, tossing them to the ground. Kat got to her feet, her heart pounding. She glanced around her, realizing she misplaced her basket. Fat drops of rainwater began to hit the ground. Kat grabbed her long-sleeved over-shirt and put it on, wrapping it around her body and buttoning it to the top. Then she picked up her flowing skirt and bounded past the tree, back toward the house.

  Lightning snapped across the sky as she ran with her skirt hiked up to give her legs room. Her sandals pounded against the sprigs of grass and tiny flowers that were bowing to the rain and kissing the ground. She kept running, the same fear flitting through her panicked mind: what if lightning strikes a tree and the whole thing falls on me?

  Kat ran until her foot caught in a root and she fell face down on the sodden earth. Groaning, she put her hands beneath her and pushed up, gaining purchase and standing once more. Thunder shook everything around her and she stumbled over rocks and sticks until she finally reached the edge of the wood.

  She wondered how long she’d been gone. Hopefully, Jake hadn’t tried to look for her; otherwise he might run into the trouble that had somehow missed Katherine. He would be glad to see her again and would certainly embrace her happily, regardless of the fact that she was soaked through and through. The rain was coming down much harder than it had before and Kat was so relieved to see the house again that she nearly sprinted there without hesitation.

  If it hadn’t been for the figure in the kitchen window, she would have been to the back door by now. Kat stood still in the torrent of rain, water dripping down her face and chilling her to the core of her body. Her first thought was that Jake must have invited a friend over, but this person didn’t look at all familiar. For one thing, his eyes had no distinguishing features and appeared sunken amidst his pale skin. Was he blind? He was wearing a button-down shirt and suspenders and groping in a drawer for something, his head cocked toward the ceiling as he searched.

  There were curtains on the windows. Kat had never put up curtains; she always considered them pointless and Jake had never argued. These were lacey and sort of moth-bitten, as though they’d been in the family for centuries. But what family was that?

  Kat felt her heart pounding vigorously in her chest. Panic surged through her. She had never seen this place before. Aside from the basic appearance of the house she recognized almost nothing. The shade garden she had begun planting directly behind the house wasn’t there. The
Virginia creeping vine that had clung to the walls and surrounded her bedroom window was just beginning to poke up from the soil and had obviously been cropped. The house had a look about it that suggested almost constant loving care. All the problems Kat and Jake had experienced with it since they’d first moved in were no longer evident.

  Where was the broken gutter and the peeling paint? Where were the rot spots on the wood siding and the broken windows that had been carelessly covered in dirty, translucent plastic?

  Kat’s flesh tingled with rising fear. The nape of her neck felt cold as terror wracked her body. She could feel everything with a kind of awareness she had never before experienced. The rain pounding against her unmoving frame became all the more frigid against her skin, as though her spirit had merged with the falling water. A sudden chilly wind enveloped her as if to taunt her.

  She wasn’t at home. She wasn’t in the right place. She was trying to convince herself she had taken a wrong turn in the woods. This wasn’t the right house. Maybe if she turned around and backtracked, maybe then she would find her way home. The woods must have been deeper than she’d first imagined. They had to be.

  As she repeated these reassurances in her mind, trying her best to convince herself that turning around and stumbling through the woods again would eventually bring her back to Jake, she heard footsteps squishing through the soaked earth. Turning abruptly on her heel, Kat came face to face with a strange man.

  He was staring at her with an awkward, curious look on his tanned countenance. He was soaked like she was, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were sky blue and his hair was the color of ripe wheat. His potbelly, thick arms, and strong neck made for an oddly shaped body accustomed to hard labor. He was wearing an aged pair of coveralls and a button-up shirt. Old, dirt coated boots were on his feet, only halfway laced, as though he had been in a big hurry only moments before. There was a bucket in his right hand and the rain hitting the metal sang like stones against tin. He stared at her.

  “Who’re you, Miss?” he asked gruffly. Kat could tell he was trying to be polite, but she could also see he didn’t know quite how to respond to a bedraggled young lady standing in his yard.

  “I—I, uh,” Kat stammered. “I’m—I’m Katherine.”

  “And what exactly are you doing in my yard?”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she added nervously. “I was walking in the woods before the storm and I got lost.”

  The man started to walk toward the house. He turned his head and beckoned for her to come along, even though it was clear he didn’t want her there.

  “You may as well come in ’til the rain stops.”

  Chapter 2

  Schizophrenia

  When Kat stepped into the house, noticing it looked exactly like her own, she began to shake and decided that if she did so any more than she already was, she might be epileptic.

  “Julie,” the man shouted. “Come down here a minute and bring me a couple towels!”

  No, no, not her. Not her!

  Kat’s eyelids fluttered. Her head felt heavy. She couldn’t stand it; she couldn’t take it anymore, if this was really happening. She could barely think through the utter confusion. Her heartbeat felt irregular and she became aware of sweat, not rain, dripping down her forehead. Then she fainted. What she was hearing—voices and footsteps against wood floors—quickly melted into the other four senses and became absolute nothingness.

  Kat walked down the hallway again. She sighed in relief, recalling the recent occurrences. No, not occurrences, but images in a dream and part of the same dream she had been having for years, over and over. After all, they were obviously getting worse. First, her grandmother in the hallway, then in the living room by the roaring fire and of course, Kat must have fallen asleep at her picnic, then dreamt something even more realistic than before. She had dreamed of the man in the yard and of the trip into her own house which for some reason, appeared so different to her.

  Now she was back in the original dream and it felt almost comforting to her, despite the fact that it had been tormenting her for such a long time. She’d had this dream so many times that on the same day of every year, she announced to Jake “This is the anniversary of my dream!”

  He had always known what she was talking about, because she told him everything. The anniversary of the dream was the thirty-first of August. Not that it made a difference now. Because she was here again, watching the sun dance off the wooden floors in the hallway.

  Then she realized this was a hallway in her own inherited homestead, the one that extended far past her own bedroom. It was where she had found the ring that was still on her finger. In the dream, the floors weren’t rotted. They appeared well cared for.

  Kat awaited the usual appearance of Julie Maslin with nothing more than monotonous expectation. She heard footsteps. She waited for her grandmother, but when the visitor appeared at the top of the stairs, Kat realized that it wasn’t Julie at all. It was the man she had seen in the kitchen window of her house, in the first part of her dream. He had a cane in his right hand that tentatively tapped the ground before him—yes, he’s blind, she affirmed. I had thought so.

  The man seemed to look straight at her, but he wasn’t looking at Katherine. There was someone else there. If only she could see who it was. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t yell. She could barely hear him, but she managed to pick up one phrase.

  “Why—why did you do that?”

  When Kat woke up, she was whispering the same words, over and over: “Something horrible has happened.”

  ***

  Kat didn’t know how long she had been sleeping, but when she awoke for the second time, she felt as though she was burning. She kicked the blankets off her body and rolled uncomfortably to her right side. She could hear birds chirping somewhere nearby. Then she heard a voice. It was soft and made her want to fall asleep again.

  “Katherine, dear, you’re not going to get better unless you sweat this out.” The blankets landed on her body again and Kat moaned in between sleep and wakefulness. “You’ve had a high fever for some time now. Are you awake?” Kat moaned again. “Sit up,” the voice commanded.

  Kat remembered her childhood and expected to see her mother standing next to the bed with a thermometer in hand and a concerned look on her face. Instead, she saw someone completely unexpected when she sat up. Kat screamed when she saw her grandmother’s face. She pushed herself against the headboard behind her and shook like the terrified rabbits she’d seen cats stalk by the thickets. She was even more confused when she saw the white nightgown covering her own body. She looked at it as though it were an alien artifact that had somehow managed to wrap itself around her.

  Kat glanced up just in time to see her grandmother roll her eyes. She shook the thermometer gently, then bent forward.

  “Calm down and take this under your tongue.” Julie waited for a few long seconds, then straightened. “If you don’t stop shaking, you’ll break the thermometer when I give it to you. Now are you going to calm down or not? Your temperature had to be over a hundred last night and we can only hope that it’s gone down. We won’t know for sure until you stop shaking.”

  Grandmother Julie appeared quite sad, as though she were hiding a million dark secrets behind her brown eyes. It was that vulnerability that caused Kat to loosen her tightened muscles and sink her shoulders down from around her neck. She opened her mouth and let Julie place the thermometer under her tongue, like a child obeying her mother.

  She watched as her grandmother went to a nearby closet and began to search through the clothes. Kat looked at her with rising interest and noted her pale blue housedress with its pattern of tiny white flowers, the stained apron that hung over it and her matching slippers. Her hair was short, brown and she wore it in a perm. She started busily putting clothes away, then turned a few moments later and smiled at Katherine. She walked over to the edge of the bed and took the thermometer out of Kat’s mouth in order to read it.

 
; Kat had a feeling that her grandmother didn’t get much pleasurable company. For whatever reason, she probably didn’t get to spoil her son much—Kat’s father, David.

  My father. My father, who is dead, Kat thought. My father who, in this dream or this existence, whatever it is, is alive, now, or still alive.

  She had trouble putting the words together in her mind and ended up rather confused. Her grandmother interrupted her thoughts.

  “Your temperature is back to normal. There are old clothes of mine you can wear. Go ahead and look through the closet and pick anything you like. Then come on down to the kitchen and I’ll make you some lunch.”

  Kat nodded. She wanted to say, “Okay, Gram,” but she knew this would never be understood, because, technically, Kat wasn’t even alive right now, or in this time period. She stayed in the bed for a while, observing her surroundings as though she’d never been there before, as though she’d fallen out of the sky and into this bed, with its thick white comforter and lacy pillows. After all, this was a dream, right?

  Kat couldn’t imagine what else it could be. It had to be a dream. This was her bedroom. She knew that after taking in the shape and positioning of the chamber. The wallpaper was different and so was the furniture. To anyone else, these details may have seemed silly, but to Kat, it was terrifying.

  She wasn’t at home. The building may have been the same, but she wasn’t at home. Jake wasn’t there and neither was their utter lack of furniture. Something very wrong was going on, but it hit her like a piece of granite on the skull; it was hard and unyielding and certainly didn’t offer room for consideration. Whatever thought she had was being transformed into animal instinct. She had a mind to jump out the nearest window. At least then she would have a relatively normal disaster to face.

  Instead, Kat climbed gingerly out of the bed that wasn’t her own and tiptoed across the room. She moved as though she expected the floor to break beneath her. Against her own expectations, everything remained intact except her sanity. She couldn’t be sure if this was a dream or a sign of some budding mental problem. Kat considered that maybe a case of schizophrenia was twisting Jake’s visage into that of her dead grandmother. She thought of all the possible disorders that could be ripping her brain to shreds.