The House Guest

by Rosa Sophia

  “I liked having you around,” Phillip said. His voice was strong and he didn’t even seem fazed by the fact that his son was lying dead beside him. “But I can’t have you telling people about this.”

  She knew what her fate could be if she stayed where she was any longer. Phillip was already advancing on her. She backed up, terrified, her muscles frozen with fear.

  Move! Move, you idiot! She shouted inwardly at herself, but it didn’t seem to be working. She was terrified, but she knew she had to start moving or she would never get back to Jake.

  There were no thoughts in her mind, only instincts. A person’s will to survive is always characterized by pure animal instinct, and that was what Katherine held onto. That was what she used as she turned around and threw herself out the barn doors and into the humid evening. It was hard to tell how much time had passed. Either the sun was setting early, or the clouds were choking out the daylight.

  Rain poured, slamming against her as she turned and ran past the barn. Without even thinking about it, Kat knew she couldn’t go back to the house. If she did, she would only bring this horror home to Julie and that was the last thing she wanted. So she ran straight into the forest, angling northeast and away from the pastures. She could hear heavy footsteps behind her and she knew Phillip was catching up to her.

  If he knew she was his granddaughter, would he refrain from killing her?

  She kept running, her feet pounding against the twigs and stones. She was barefoot and the bottoms of her feet were stinging. She hadn’t expected to run through the woods tonight, or any other night. Tears were streaming down her face and her heart was ready to break through her ribcage. There was one image in her mind, one horrible thought that was forever burned on her memory. She could see the blood—she kept running—and it was everywhere, painted on her thoughts like a despicable disease that couldn’t be cured.

  She heard Phillip yelling behind her, something about how there was nowhere to go, something about the nearest house being too far to run to.

  Thunder shook the earth and Kat didn’t slow down. She jumped and stumbled over countless rocks and roots with only one intention—to survive.

  Lightning lit the dark evening and for one moment, the trees were stark white. It was as though she raced through a congregation of ghosts, a meeting of the dead, whose tall and white features were completely motionless.

  Her dress snagged on something and she pulled desperately and kept going, suddenly realizing she had shrieked as she pulled away from whatever had been restraining her.

  More thunder filled her ears. Then—

  She tripped.

  It was over. She would die here.

  Her face hit the ground, hard. Her body collided with rocks and stones. Her hands dug into the soft soil, which she knew would be her deathbed.

  Kat waited. No more footfalls behind her. The world fell into silence. Where was Phillip? Where was the axe?

  As quickly as she had seen all that blood, that gruesome death, Katherine heard birds chirping above her. Then she let herself go as she drifted into another realm. It wasn’t death, but it was close enough.

  ***

  It had been three long months since Kat’s disappearance. Jake hadn’t given up on her, although the authorities were bemused. He’d overheard people talk about the strange Maslin homestead, and they looked at Jake funny, as if expecting him to be hiding something. He wasn’t sure why.

  He remembered getting notices in the mail years ago about missing persons. Some of those people had been gone for two or three years and their faces were still on those notices. Their families had never given up hope.

  Jake knew what it was like now. He knew how it felt to wake up in the morning, reach over and feel the cold emptiness beside him where his lover should have been. And that’s why, for almost three whole months, Kat’s face was everywhere, even on those damned notices that got sent out in the mail.

  No one had seen her. Her face was on the news channels, in the paper, everywhere. Kat’s family and Jake himself could no longer stand it. He stopped reading newspapers. So did Katherine’s mother, who didn’t watch TV anymore, either.

  Rewards were offered for her safe return. Big rewards—amounts of money that were so large, none of Kat’s family could really afford it. They would worry about that once they had her back again. For now, money didn’t matter.

  Jake had searched the woods numerous times. All he found was her picnic basket. The only conclusion he could come to was that someone from the neighboring development had abducted his fiancée. The woods were extremely small, so small that only an idiot could get lost in them. So there must have been someone else, some disgusting pervert who’d probably assaulted Katherine as she’d walked through the woods. He cried himself to sleep so many times over her unexplained absence that the tears on his pillow had never completely dried.

  Every day, every night, he wept. He kept in touch with Corry, who came to the house often. She would bring food, but Jake couldn’t eat. All he could do was hope and pray Kat would come back to him. That was what bothered him the most. There was nothing that he could do. He was beginning to think his constant calls were bothering the police. Each time Jake called to inquire about their progress or lack thereof, they sounded more and more irritated with his haranguing.

  For a while, he went about his daily routine, because he knew Kat wouldn’t want him to mope around on her account. He continued his search for a job, and when he was home he would work around the house, imagining she were there to offer her input. Then he began to lose track of time, and gave up on the routine.

  Most of his days were spent in bed. He barely ate. He would crawl out from beneath his covers whenever he felt another minute of hunger would kill him. He would eat whatever he could find before returning to bed.

  That was why it felt so strange to him when he climbed out of bed on the morning of September first. It was nine o’clock, and for some reason that he couldn’t explain, he had stood up. He hadn’t even thought about it. One moment, he was lying there. The next, he was standing on the chilly floor, naked. He looked out the window toward the woods and got a funny feeling in his chest. It wasn’t pain, but it was an ache, one that wept desperately within him. One that pulled him toward the trees.

  Despite the fact that it was September, it hadn’t gotten colder yet. It was very warm when he left the house that morning, clad in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He walked through the back yard as he’d done a thousand times before. He didn’t know why he was going back to the woods. He knew he wouldn’t find anything. For some reason, something within him was making him walk through the balmy morning. He passed the dilapidated barn and headed toward the tree line.

  As he strolled through the woods, trying to tell himself he just wanted to enjoy a walk, the leaves rustled in a slight breeze. He could see the tops of the identical development houses beyond the woods. Jake kept walking, though he wasn’t sure where his feet were taking him.

  He looked behind him. He couldn’t see the house from here. He was actually a good distance away. A part of the barn was peeking through the trees, its ghastly red paint peeling from the area nearest the rooftop. Jake looked forward again and walked several more paces. When he stopped and saw what was before him, his heart nearly shattered.

  She was lying on the ground, surrounded by little white flowers and grass, her head resting on a tree root. Her body was curled up and her hair was a mess, her golden braid askew. Her hands were in small fists beneath her chin. It was the way she always slept, and she was sleeping now. It was evident by the slight rise and fall of her chest. Despite the fact that Jake was overjoyed to see her, he still thought it was strange that she was wearing an old brown housedress. He’d never seen the dress before.

  He didn’t consider that for long. After all, he had his Katherine back.

  ***

  Kat was in the hallway again. She sighed heavily and looked around. She knew the dream would be different this
time, because instead of sunlight filtering through the windows, there was only gray. It was raining. Images of the murder flitted through her mind, intrusive little snippets of horror that made her shiver.

  She remembered running from Phillip. She looked down and saw that her feet were bleeding from her journey through the woods. Her dress was tattered and she was all dirty and wet. Was she dead? If so, shouldn’t she be in Heaven by now, or whatever afterlife there really was? Or maybe this was Hell—to relive this horrible dream, over and over again, to feel guilty for the rest of eternity, all because she had realized John was going to die when it was too late.

  Kat knew someone was coming. There had been Julie, then Frank Ruth. Who would she dream of now? Footsteps were advancing up that flight of stairs and she was dreading it. She was so tired of this dream that she just wanted to—

  Die?

  No. God, no.

  Katherine waited. Then she saw Julie. This time, her grandmother was crying. Kat tried to say, “I’m sorry,” but all she could do was open her mouth. The words wouldn’t come out. Her throat was dry. Instead, Julie spoke.

  “My son, my son,” she murmured. She wrapped her arms around herself and wept. “Why did you do this to my son?” She was looking right through Katherine. “He was such a good boy, so kind.” Julie shook her head sadly. “He was just different. Why couldn’t you accept that? And David—he’s different, too.”

  Julie shot a look right through Kat, a glare that was so desperate and tortured that she felt as though her heart was sinking into her stomach. “You just wanted one of them dead, didn’t you?” Julie was saying. “One dead so that you wouldn’t have to worry about pulling them apart anymore, about keeping them away from each other. Well, you won’t have to worry anymore, Phillip. He’s dead. My son is dead. But if you think that’s going to make David the way you want him, you’re wrong.”

  Her expression betrayed her fury.

  “He’ll always be that way,” she continued. “And there’s nothing you can do about it, Phillip.” Julie threw her wedding ring away and hurried down the steps. The hallway faded. The rain stopped. And the dream ended.

  Katherine Maslin opened her eyes. She felt someone’s hand in hers and she realized she was lying down, but not on the wet ground of a forest. She was in a bed. For a moment, for one horrible moment, she thought she was back in time again and that the person who was holding her hand was Julie, the tortured woman who kept coming back to Kat’s mind, surely a ghost by now. She would remain a ghost until Kat could set things right—if she could.

  “Katherine?”

  Her heart jumped. That wasn’t the voice of Julie or either of the boys, nor was it the voice of Frank Ruth or Phillip’s terrible mother. Kat moved her head.

  “Jake!” She threw off the covers and jumped into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, her body trembling. They were together and Katherine was finally home, in her own bed.

  “I’m so glad to see you.” Jake was crying too, his arms around her, holding her close. “Damn it, Kat, where the hell were you? The cops have been looking for you, we’ve promised rewards to anyone who finds you, we…your mother and I, we…where the hell were you?” He wept on her shoulder, holding her so tightly against him that she could barely breathe.

  He must’ve undressed her. The chill on her skin made her realize the dress was gone, and she was clad in her underwear. She saw the dirty housedress, crumpled on the floor. It was real. It was all real.

  She pushed up against him, curling her legs up to his body, her head beneath his chin.

  “I missed you so much,” she finally murmured. “You have no idea.”

  “I have no idea? Your face has been all over the news. Your mother nearly lost her mind. Wait ’til she finds out you’re back! I almost went crazy. I spent more than a month in bed, Kat.”

  “Oh man. I would welcome one of my mother’s ridiculous arguments right now.” Kat sighed. It was all coming back to her—her own reality and her own life. She felt Jake’s fingers caressing the side of her face. He gently lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.

  “Where were you? And why were you wearing that dress when I found you? Where are your other clothes?”

  “I don’t think you’ll believe me,” Kat replied.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Kat lay back on the bed and pulled Jake down with her. They cuddled together.

  “How long have I been gone?” she asked.

  “You disappeared around three months ago. I reported you missing. The cops had search parties everywhere. I thought someone kidnapped you. Did they, Kat?”

  “Did someone…what? Did someone kidnap me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Kat wrapped her arms tighter around him and pushed her face against the softness of his side and the sweet smell of his cotton t-shirt.

  “Nobody kidnapped me, Jake.”

  “Then what happened? Where the hell were you?” He sounded the way anyone in his situation would sound: frustrated and confused. Kat knew she would have to tell him something. She had promised him years ago she would never, ever lie to him, no matter what the circumstances. She would have to stick by that promise, of course. And even more importantly, she would have to trust him not to toss her in a loony bin when she was finished explaining.

  Her memory was hazy and it was only now that her vision started to fill with blood. What was that gore in her mind, that horror that taunted her thoughts?

  John.

  She froze just as she had frozen in that barn. Her muscles tensed up and she tightened her grip on Jake, as though he might drift away at any moment. The murder was back in her mind, as fresh as it had been when she had seen it with her own eyes. She knew it hadn’t been a dream, none of it was and that was the worst part. Years ago, justice had not been served and a young boy had died for pure hatred. Was she the only other person who knew? Her father was dead. Was that why he killed himself? The only other person who knew was Phillip Maslin. He had lost his mind—right?

  Kat’s weeping turned to frantic sobs. Loud, desperate noises escaped her throat and she felt as though she had already died. It was as though her grandfather had taken her life and here she was, in a Hell of her own making. Her uncle was dead and he had never even been an adult. There was so much he hadn’t experienced, so much joy he could have had. There was so much love he might have given some worthy man, because, goddamn it, John Maslin had been gay.

  And so was my father, Katherine reminded herself. Until his dying day, he had never been able to admit it, not even in his own mind. He had pretended to be what everyone wanted him to be and in the end, his love for his brother and his own self-hatred had killed him. Hate had killed both John and his brother, in two different forms, both just as abhorrent.

  Kat couldn’t stop her tears and it seemed they would never end. What the hell kind of a world is this? She wondered. She knew it wasn’t right, it just wasn’t fucking right that someone in any day and age could get away with murder.

  No matter what Jake said or did, he couldn’t get Katherine to talk to him that night. Finally, she cried herself to sleep and Jake got ready for bed and climbed under the covers with her.

  No one knew that she was back yet. Her face was still on the news. Jake and Katherine were too tired to face the world now. All of that would have to wait until they were good and ready.

  Chapter 5

  Gone

  When Kat woke up again, it was one-thirty. Jake was still asleep beside her, his arm lying over her body. Sunlight illuminated their bedroom. Kat looked around.

  She was happy to see that she was definitely in the right year. Everything was familiar to her again. The room was painted a dark green color—she and Jake had done that—and her fiancé’s dirty clothes were lying on the carpeting. The room was a wonderful mess. She was home at last.

  Kat considered her experiences of the past few months. She knew terrible things now and had memories that would haunt her forever and distu
rb her for even longer. But she could do something with that knowledge. As dreadful as the thought was, the fact that John had been killed without anyone catching on meant that his body was still buried somewhere nearby. It probably wasn’t in the barn, because there had already been bodies in the barn. And if Kat was right in her hypothesis, there was no way Phillip would have been stupid enough to bury his son under the floor of that old building.

  Was it real? Had she actually been there? Yes. Looking at that housedress, she knew it was true. She had physical evidence.

  And if Kat didn’t do something about this knowledge, the ghost of Julie would follow her for the rest of her life. Even worse, her own conscience would be biting at her heels.

  ***

  It was hard, but Katherine told Jake everything. She started with the ring and how she was certain it had somehow taken her back in time. She went on to say that Julie’s energy, as strong as it must have been, was in the ring and her intent had carried Kat back to 1960. She knew it sounded crazy, but it was hard to deny it when she herself had experienced it. Even by that point, Jake appeared bemused, disbelieving, and she couldn’t blame him.

  She went on to tell him about how she had tripped and fallen, then stumbled through the woods and seen the strange man in her own house, then her grandfather, Phillip, in the yard. She told Jake about Julie, her brother Frank, and Phillip’s mother, Anne, whose grumpy and hateful demeanor kept her in her bedroom most of the time.

  She told him about how Frank wasn’t allowed outside, supposedly because he was blind. She was sure that there was more to it than that. Kat explained how she had met her father as a child, how close she and her grandmother had become, and how she and Phillip had read and discussed Shakespeare together. Then she reminded Jake of the rumors Allen Ryman had told them about when they’d first come here. It was true what he’d said: there was another son.