by Tom Reamy
“There’s wood for the fireplace,” Dad said, brightening. “I was afraid we might have to burn the furniture.”
Poe wrinkled his nose. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
The professor came out of his mood. “Why don’t you get the others from the cars and whatever else you might need while Mr. Willingham and I get a fire going?”
So we re-entered the downpour and slogged back to the cars. Ann smiled at me as we went down the porch steps. I missed one with my foot and had to grab the railing. Damnation!
When we returned with the suitcases, blankets, and everything else we could carry, Weatherly and Carl had a crackling fire going. That and the half dozen kerosene lamps scattered around the room made it almost cheerful. We all trooped in, bustling around, shedding raincoats and umbrellas, and looking around tentatively. Everyone was happily excited and seemed to regard the whole thing as an adventure.
“This is terrific,” Linda MacNeal said with delight. “I was expecting spiders and rats.” Poe’s wife was twenty-two, blonde, pink and pretty—and very pregnant. Poe helped with her raincoat. I liked Linda as much as I did Poe.
“Either that, or some farmer would be using it to store hay.” That was Judson Bradley Ledbetter, known professionally as Jud Bradley—he thought Ledbetter sounded a bit too hayseed. It was easy enough to tell he was Linda’s brother. He was also blond, pink, and pretty, but with a dark undercurrent missing in Linda. I thought he was a bit overdressed and had obviously swiped his shoes from Carmen Miranda.
“Where are the ghosts?” Tannie asked, ready to get down to business.
“They don’t show up till midnight,” I said with a straight face.
“Stop it, Ben,” Mom said. “You know she believes everything you tell her.”
“You okay, hon?” Poe said to his wife. “You oughtn’t to catch cold.”
“You’re the one who looks like you’ve been swimming with your clothes on.”
He grinned. “I was expecting Fred MacMurray to paddle by in a rowboat.”
“The Rains of Ranchipur!” Linda cried gleefully.
“Right!”
Mom wasn’t one to let things go untended. “I have some towels in the suitcases,” she said and fished out several. She handed one to Linda.
“Thank you,” Linda said, smiling. “Just my hair and feet are wet.”
“Yes. It’s all sorta terrific, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Mom said and laughed. “I felt the same way when I had my two. Here, sit by the fire and take off your shoes.” She and Poe pushed one of the chairs closer to the fire and fussed over Linda. Then she gave Tannie and me each a towel with instructions to dry everything that was wet.
Mom was in high gear now that she had something to do. I guess that’s one of the reasons she made such a good faculty wife. There are a lot of women who can’t hack it. I’ve seen perfectly level-headed women go glassy-eyed at the thought of one more faculty tea; and assistant professors’ wives seriously consider sticking their heads in the oven after being cut down by a full professor’s wife—delicately and with no visible wounds, of course.
Mom says a faculty wife has to be one-quarter hostess, one-quarter scullery maid, one-quarter diplomat, one-quarter secret agent, and one hundred percent saint.
“If everyone is getting settled,” the professor said in his role as reluctant leader of the castaways, “I’ll get my suitcases. I also have some food.”
“I’ll go with you,” Dad volunteered. “We have some coffee in the car.”
“Thank you,” Weatherly replied. “There’s a stove in the kitchen but, I’m afraid, no hot water.”
“Clare, will you put some water on?” Dad asked. “We’ll be right back.”
“Of course.”
They left and everyone was snuggling in quite comfortably. I got dry socks for myself and Tannie from the suitcases. Mom and Poe still hovered over Linda. Carl Willingham and Judson Bradley Ledbetter rotated themselves in front of the fire drying off. Jud soon gave up and went into another room to put on dry clothes, after fussing around in several matched pieces of luggage.
“When is it due?” Mom asked, not quite having exhausted the topic of babies.
“Five weeks,” Linda said.
“We were on our way to visit Linda’s parents in Wichita before she got too big to travel.” Poe smiled a proud and slightly mystified father-to-be smile. “We live in Flagstaff.”
“Oh, Poe,” Linda moaned. “They’re gonna be so worried when we don’t show up. We were supposed to be there by eight.”
“I know, hon, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Would you like a blanket?” Mom handed her one before she could answer.
“Thank you, Mrs…” She laughed. “I don’t know your name.”
“Clare Henderson. I guess that’s the first thing we ought to do. That was my husband, Charles, who just went for coffee. My son, Ben, and my daughter, Tannie.”
Everyone had the slightly nervous fidgets you get when you introduce yourself to strangers. Except me. I was looking at Ann Callahan just coming into the room from an exploration foray.
“My name is Tania Henderson,” Tannie announced proudly. “After my grandmother.”
“That’s a terrific name,” Ann said as she joined us. “Thank you very much.” Tannie smiled at her.
“You’re welcome.” Ann beamed back at her. “I’m Ann Callahan. From Albuquerque.”
“Poe McNeal. I won’t mention what the Poe is short for. My wife, Linda.”
“That’s my brother in there,” Linda said, inclining her head toward the closed door, “Jud Ledbetter. He lives in Hollywood.”
Mom raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Is he an actor? He’s handsome enough to be.”
Linda’s mouth quivered with a suppressed grin. “He’ll probably tell you he is,” she said, “but he’s a model. You may recognize the back of his head.” The grin broke through and Poe chuckled. “He’s been in a lot of commercials, but the camera is always on the girls’ shiny hair or her gleaming white cavity-free bicuspids. All you ever see of Jud is the back of his head. If you’d like to hear a choice account of the doubtful ancestry of TV commercial producers and directors, bring the subject up.” She and Poe both smothered laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” Mom asked in confusion. “He seems fortunate to me.”
“Oh, he is,” Poe controlled himself. “He makes money hand over fist—a lot more than I’ll ever make. You see, Mrs. Henderson, Jud and Linda and I grew up together in Wichita. Jud and I were in the same grade. It’s just hard for us to take him seriously. We know too much about him.”
Poe plucked at his sodden clothes, unsticking the fabric from his skin. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll follow my beautiful brother-in-law’s example and put on some dry clothes.” He rummaged around in the suitcase and followed Jud.
“I take it your husband and brother don’t get on too well,” Mom said.
“No, it isn’t that,” Linda said, hitching the blanket higher around her shoulders. “They’ve seen very little of each other since high school, and Jud’s changed a lot since then. I think the term is: gone Hollywood. It’s nothing serious. Jud’s airs amuse Poe and Poe’s amusement irritates Jud.”
“Would you care to join me in the water-boiling detail?” Mom asked Ann, suddenly remembering.
“Sure,” she said. They took a lamp and went in the direction opposite Jud and Poe.
“I wonder when they read the will,” Poe said when they came back.
“Huh?” I asked because my mind was still on Ann.
“In the movies,” he explained, “when a bunch of people are gathered in a spooky old house like this, they generally read the will. But there’s always the stipulation that they spend the night. And then the beneficiaries are murdered one by one.”
“Poe!” Linda frowned. “Don’t talk that way. You’ll scare Tannie.”
“Nothing scares her,” I said.
“D
oes too!” Tannie asserted.
“Either that,” Poe continued undaunted, “or they’re lured there by a mysterious host, who then murders ’em one by one.”
“And Then There Were None and The Thirteenth Guest,” I supplied.
“Uh-oh!” Linda laughed. “Poe’s found a kindred spirit.”
“Huh?” I said with another example of my brilliant repartee.
“Poe and Linda ask each other questions about old movies,” Jud explained with no small amount of condescension. “If one can stump the other, he gets a point.”
“It’s a game we play on trips to pass the time,” Poe said with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
“May I play?” I asked.
“Sure.” Linda laughed. “I’m not much of a challenge.”
“Be warned, young man,” Poe said, grinning. “You are opposing a master.”
“Okay, my turn,” Linda said and looked studious. “Let’s see. Ah… how many times was Scarlett O’Hara married?” Poe turned to me with mock exasperation. “You can see the kind of competition I have. You know the answer to that one?”
“Sure,” I said and grinned. “Three.”
“No points for Linda,” he crowed. She made a face at him. “All right,” he continued, preparing a zinger, “what famous star of B westerns once played the romantic lead opposite Greta Garbo?” He settled back with a satisfied smirk.
Linda looked at him suspiciously. “You’re making that up.”
“No, I’m not,” he laughed.
“Johnny Mack Brown,” Jud muttered.
An expression of abject betrayal settled on Poe’s face. “How did you know?” he groaned.
Jud raised his pale eyebrows. “You mean that’s right? I just said the most unlikely name I could think of.”
“I was gonna say Lash LaRue,” Linda said with a straight face. We were all laughing when Dad and Professor Weatherly came back. The professor had a suitcase and a picnic hamper. Dad had a cardboard box with instant coffee, styrofoam cups, sugar, powdered cream, and a bunch of other stuff. We were helping them unpack it all when Mom and Ann returned looking smug.
“Water’s on,” Mom announced. “With a little native ingenuity, feminine intuition, and a lot of luck, we figured out how to work that antique kerosene stove.”
“Professor,” Ann said with a slight frown, “does your caretaker live here in the house? There’s food in the kitchen. Not much, mostly canned stuff.”
“I don’t know,” he said with a befuddled look. “The man I hired lived in Hawley with his wife.”
“Maybe some hobo has taken squatters’ rights,” Jud said.
“Wouldn’t be nobody from around here,” Carl said with assurance. “Folks in Hawley stay away from this place.”
“You’re here, Mr. Willingham,” Mom pointed out. “Have you changed your mind about the place being haunted?”
“Never said it was haunted,” he said phlegmatically. “Just said folks talk.”
What happened then is difficult to explain. Poe and I had gone back to Linda at the fireplace. I was sitting in a chair next to Linda while Poe sat on the floor with his arms around his knees. Everyone else was at the table about ten feet away unpacking the professor’s picnic hamper. I was thinking that he surely had brought a lot of food for some reason.
I felt it coming before it hit me, but I was so startled I didn’t do anything to protect myself.
There was an impact. Then pressure; pressure that knocked the breath out of me. If I’d been standing I think I would have fallen.
My head flopped back against the chair. It couldn’t have lasted more than a second, but the residue of cold fear was overpowering. The sweet chill of fear, drenched, infused with icy sugar water.
My eyes closed and I shivered uncontrollably. My arms were so weak I couldn’t lift them. I never knew so much fear.
But not my fear.
One eternal second and it was gone; the pressure and the presence gone as suddenly as it came.
I could hear what everyone was saying, their tiny voices far away; and I knew what everyone was doing, not seeing them with my eyes.
In that chill second Ann gasped and looked around quickly, seeking a source. Of what? Everyone stopped talking and looked at Ann; Professor Weatherly with more interest than I could explain.
Then Linda looked at me. “Mrs. Henderson!” she shouted. “Something’s wrong with Ben!”
Everyone gathered around me except Jud and Carl. Ann was shaken. They helped her to a chair. Tannie stared at me with eyes like saucers. Mom and Dad knelt beside me. Mom put her hands on my clammy face.
“Darling, what’s the matter?”
I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids fluttered like moth wings, and I couldn’t focus.
“Ben!” Dad said, strain and worry harsh in his voice. “Son, say something.”
“Mom?” I whimpered. I wasn’t ashamed of whimpering. I was thankful I didn’t scream.
Mom put her arms around my shoulders and pulled me against her breast, holding me like I was two years old. Dad had his hand on the back of my head. I opened up all the way, let down all the barriers. I sopped up their love and concern and compassion. I bathed in it, swam in it, drowned in it. I let the warmth of it wash over me, let it drive out the chill of that fear.
“What is it, Ben? Are you ill?” Mom asked softly.
“Oh, Mom, it was so scared!” I moaned against her shoulder.
“What was scared?” Dad asked in confusion.
My eyes focused on Ann over Mom’s shoulder. She was staring at me, staring with surprised recognition. But she was no more surprised than I. Professor Weatherly was looking from Ann to me and back again like a startled owl. Then I saw everyone else was staring at me too, and I got a little embarrassed. I disengaged Mom’s arms and leaned back in the chair because I wasn’t sure I could stand up. But I didn’t take my eyes off Ann.
“I don’t know, Dad,” I said, trying to answer his question. “Suddenly, I felt… I felt… it was like I had my breath knocked out… and… there was so much fear.”
“That’s what I felt… only not so strongly,” Ann said calmly.
Tannie slowly and tentatively took my hand in hers and looked at me with big round scared eyes. I grinned at her and winked. Her little face sort of exploded and she grinned back. Mom turned to Ann.
“Are you feeling better, Ann?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Tannie suddenly perked up and piped, “It must have been a ghost.” A little wave of nervous laughter rippled around the room.
“I think she’s right,” Poe grinned. “I’ve seen enough movies to know a haunted house.”
“I’ve heard folks talk,” Carl said with a nod of his head. “You keep saying that,” Jud grumbled. “Exactly what do folks talk about?”
“This house and what happened here fifty years ago.”
“I knew it!” Poe cried and clapped his hands together sharply. “A house doesn’t get a reputation for being haunted unless there’s a story to go with it. What happened fifty years ago, a juicy murder?”
“First time I been in this place,” Carl said, a little abashed at being the focus of attention. “Nobody I know’s ever been inside. Seen it lots of times from the road. Used to be the main road before they built the highway.”
“Well, what happened?” Poe squirmed.
Professor Weatherly was distinctly uncomfortable and wished he were somewhere else.
“Happened before I was born, but I’ve heard folks talk,” Carl continued, warming to his subject. “The Weatherlys lived here. Had a right nice farm, folks say. That was before the Depression. Man, wife, two girls, and a boy. Real well liked, I hear, though folks say there was something peculiar about the boy. One night folks livin’ close by saw the house all lit up kinda funny. Lights dancin’ all over it and flames in one of the upstairs rooms. Thought the place was burning and rushed over to help. When they got here, there was nothin’. No fire, nothin’. They
called. Nobody answered. They went inside and looked all over. Didn’t find nobody. Just found that upstairs room where the fire was. They say it was the boy’s room. The inside was all burned, but the fire was cold out. Nobody ever saw the Weatherlys or heard tell of ’em since.”
“Hey!” Poe exhaled slowly. “That’s even better than a juicy murder.”
“Didn’t they ever find out what happened?” Dad asked. “Nope.” Carl shrugged. “Not that I ever heard.”
“Professor?” Ann turned to him. “You told me when we were stopped on the highway you used to live around here. In this house?”
“Yes, for a time.” He fidgeted, then changed the subject. “Do you suppose the water’s boiling, Mrs. Henderson? I’m ready for a cup of coffee.”
“Oops!” Mom laughed. “I forgot about the water.” She looked questioningly at me and I nodded. She hurried from the room. Ann continued to look speculatively at the professor but decided to let it drop for the moment.
“You said there were people living close by,” Poe said hopefully. “Maybe we could walk to one of them and phone a tow truck.”
“And my parents,” Linda added.
Carl shook his head. “Ain’t there no more. Not many small farms anymore. Reckon there’s not another house for four, five miles.”
“Forget I mentioned it,” Poe grunted and settled back. Mom returned with a steaming kettle and put it beside the coffee stuff. We made coffee and sandwiches from the copious picnic hamper and went back to the fireplace.
All of us except Carl; he was standing at the window looking through the rain toward the cars. He was more worried and nervous then the rest of us. Then he turned from the window and joined us. He was frowning and worrying his cigar to a frazzle.
“It’s real funny,” he said. “I’ve been kinda keepin’ an eye on the road. Hasn’t been another car along since we got here.”
“Maybe the water went down,” Jud said in a bored voice. “Not likely,” Dad said. “It’s still raining.”
“The answer’s very simple,” Poe pronounced in mock gloom. “The ghosts lured us here for some diabolical reasons of their own and are now keeping everyone else away.” Professor Weatherly gave him a startled owl look. Well, well, the professor seemed to concur with that opinion. Linda laughed and shivered.