House of Dead Trees

by Rod Redux

  It’s hideous, Raj wanted to say, but that would have been rude. Instead, he replied, “It certainly is.”

  But the home’s new owner seemed to catch wind of his thoughts anyway. Robert Forester turned back to the house, the humor fading from his eyes.

  “I think I made a mistake coming to live here,” he said in a low voice. “It seemed like a grand idea when I was on the other side of the continent. Reclaim the ancestral home, you know? But now, after actually setting eyes on the place, after being inside it, I think I might have bitten off more than I can chew. What do you think?”

  He glanced back at Raj, who shrugged noncommittally.

  “If you’re asking me for advice, I can’t tell you anything one way or another. Not until we’ve investigated the home.”

  “Do you really believe in ghosts, Mr. Chadramoolease—Er, Raj? I mean… I’m sure you have to say you do, but… do you?”

  Raj nodded. “We’re going into our eighth season now, Mr. Forester. In that time, I’ve seen a lot of strange things. Things that have led me to believe that there are phenomena we have not yet quantified scientifically.”

  “The supernatural,” Forester said.

  Raj shrugged. “Call it what you will.”

  “What do you call it?”

  “The underpinning of the universe… The quantum substratum… The laws of physics get a little fuzzy below the subatomic level.”

  “You mean the science of the supernatural?”

  Raj tilted his head.

  “And you think you can help me? Your team of ghost hunters?”

  “We’ll do the best we can.”

  Behind them, Big Dan and Little Dan were unloading the back of the SUV. They shuffled toward the house, large aluminum cases bumping against their knees.

  “The place got lights?” Little Dan asked the owner.

  “I had all the utilities turned on when I first arrived in town,” Robert answered. “The electricity is working, but I can’t guarantee how reliable it is. I hope you have surge protectors for all that equipment.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Little Dan said with a friendly grin. “This ain’t our first rodeo.”

  “If you could show us inside,” Raj said to the owner, gesturing toward the front door. “I’d like to get some preliminary readings, familiarize myself with the layout of the home. Plus, I’d personally love to have a look around. This house is quite famous in paranormal investigation circles. But I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

  They started across the lawn toward the front porch, their legs swishing through knee-high grass that had been allowed to grow unchecked—probably for ages. As they walked, a grasshopper or two flicked into the air, buzzing away on wings that rattled like rice paper. Aside from the flick and buzz of the grasshoppers, the air was strangely still. There was no birdsong in the forest that encircled the house. No whirring cicadas. The only sound was the wind in the treetops, and, from time to time, a furtive little crackle, as something small and timid fled through the underbrush.

  “I thought you’d have a bigger crew,” Robert Forester remarked as they walked toward the porch.

  “Some of the other shows roll in like the county fair,” Raj replied, “but we try to keep our crew as small as possible. Jane is here in town doing some research. She’ll join us later tonight. The rest of the gang will arrive tomorrow.”

  The grass was lifeless. Withered and yellow. Raj could feel it crunching under the soles of his shoes as he walked, brittle as spun glass, but the main of his attention was centered on the house.

  The famous house…

  His heart began to race as the quartet approached the veranda. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath suddenly, as if his windpipe had contracted to the size of a pinhole.

  The infamous house!

  Forester House was one of the most infamous haunted houses in North America, rivaled only by the Winchester Mansion, the Villisca Ax Murder House, Waverly Hills Sanitarium… and his team had exclusive license to document it! No paranormal investigators had been here in decades! None would have the chance to investigate it after they had gone. The owner planned to completely remodel it, or so he claimed.

  The home’s new owner, Robert Forester, was talking about his aunt, who had left him the house in her will, Robert being the last living male descendent of the home’s original owner. His great aunt had written him a letter shortly before she died, Robert said, explaining the conditions of his inheritance, that he must never sell the house or allow anyone to take up residence within its walls.

  “She said the house was cursed, but there were no stipulations in the will prohibiting me from living in it, so my lawyer said I could move in if I wanted,” Robert related over his shoulder. He dug his keys from his pocket as he climbed the veranda steps. “I thought she was crazy, or, you know, being melodramatic. Until I stepped inside it for the first time.”

  Raj started up the steps… and felt dizziness wash suddenly over him. He snatched instinctively for the step rail, waving his left arm, but his flapping fingers couldn’t find it. Luckily, Big Dan was right behind him.

  “Hey!” the big Irishman exclaimed as he shored up the listing director. “You okay, boss? What’s wrong?”

  “Whoa, careful, dude!” Little Dan cautioned.

  “I’m so sorry!” Raj said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wavered for a moment, drew himself upright. “I got dizzy, but it’s passing now. Must be my allergies.”

  Robert Forester was standing in the open doorway, his brow furrowed. He looked as if he wasn’t sure whether Raj was being serious or playing some little piece of theater.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Forester inquired.

  Raj waved dismissively to the homeowner. “I’m fine. I took my allergy medicine this morning, but I guess all this grass and… the woods…”

  “Are you sure? It’s not any better inside, I can assure you.”

  “Yes, yes. I apologize. Please. Let’s continue.”

  Raj put his hand on the rail and finished climbing the steps. Still frowning, Robert moved aside and gestured for his guest to precede him.

  “Enter freely, and of your own will,” Robert said with a smirk.

  Raj smiled politely, but, stepping into the dark throat of the house, the new owner’s little bon mot didn’t seem particularly amusing.

  2

  “Holy crap!” Little Dan gasped as he tromped inside Forester House.

  All three of his companions turned to look at him, but each thought the diminutive Irishman’s exclamation was in response to something different. Robert Forester, standing in the middle of the foyer, thought Little Dan was shocked by the excesses of the home—the thick embroidered drapes, the hand-carved moldings, the wood paneling and antique furnishings. Raj, standing a few feet away, thought Little Dan, like himself, was stunned by the dense atmosphere of the house-- a palpable thing to the Indian. Big Dan, a stride ahead, thought Little Dan was surprised by the house’s state of disrepair, the piles of plaster that peppered the floor, the cracked and peeling walls, the veneer of dust that shrouded every surface of the home’s interior.

  But none of them were right.

  Little Dan had cried out because, as he crossed the threshold of the house, he saw, at the far end of the opposite hallway, what appeared to be a human figure slipping around the corner and out of sight.

  Dan Stein didn’t get a good look at the trespasser. The hallway was long and dimly lit, the specter more shadow than substance, but it was very clearly there-- not some trick of the eye. Solid. Present. A slim man in dark clothing, ducking quickly out of sight around the bend in the hallway, as if surprised that the living had entered the house after so many years of abandonment.

  “Did you see that?” Little Dan asked breathlessly, ogling the three men standing in the foyer with him.

  As his companions stared back at him, unsure what he meant, Little Dan set his luggage on the floor and broke away from the group at a jog, giving chase to the
furtive intruder.

  “Hey!” Robert Forester shouted as Little Dan rushed past him. Then louder, and with some alarm in his voice: “HEY!”

  Little Dan passed between two dusty wooden chairs that were, for some reason, sitting in the middle of the expansive foyer. He heard a dry cracking sound, but was too preoccupied by the chase to give it any thought. The floor beneath his feet sagged, but he didn’t pay any attention to that either. A house as old as this one was bound to have a couple saggy floorboards, he thought distractedly.

  Before he could take another step, however, someone caught the back of his collar and brought him up short.

  Little Dan made a strangled noise and stumbled back, reaching for his throat.

  “Ack! What the--? Why’d you grab me?” he choked. “Didn’t you see the guy--?” He struggled for a moment, annoyed, then realized what he was doing and got himself under control.

  It was the home’s owner who’d grabbed him. Past Forester, who looked like a guy who’d just dodged a bullet, Raj and Big Dan scowled at Little Dan with shock and consternation.

  “What’s the matter? What did I do?” Little Dan asked, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Forester had let go of his collar, and Dan tucked his shirt back into his waistband.

  “The floor’s bad there,” the homeowner said, pointing toward the chairs. Forester sounded winded. “I set those chairs and those little tables there to mark the perimeter. I’m not sure how rotten it is, but I was afraid you’d fall through. Didn’t you hear it cracking?”

  Little Dan glanced back. “No… Sorry.”

  Raj stepped forward then, a bit of a scolding tone in his voice. “Why did you take off running like that, Dan?” he asked. “You know how we do things. That was very unprofessional… and foolish.”

  Little Dan frowned. He looked toward the hallway where he’d seen the fleeting figure, then back to the group. He recalled his sudden excitement, the feeling that he must chase after the shadowy figure, but it didn’t seem very characteristic of him, especially now that his surprise had faded. He scratched his spiky red hair, looking befuddled.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “I don’t know what got into me. I… thought I saw something… or, actually, someone… ducking out of sight at the end of that hallway.”

  Raj arched an eyebrow. “And you just took off running after it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “That’s not like you.”

  Little Dan laughed. “I know!”

  “We usually have to keep him from running away from the spooks,” Big Dan explained to Forester, who was looking even paler now. Big Dan chuckled as he spoke, but none of the men standing in the foyer looked amused, least of all Forester. Big Dan’s levity fell flat in the thick atmosphere of the house.

  “You saw someone at the end of the hallway?” Robert Forester asked quietly. He stepped carefully around the marked off area in the center of the floor and peeked down the corridor. He did it very timidly, leaning out, then drawing back quickly, as if he feared some ghoulie might jump out at him.

  “It looked like a man. Dark shirt. Dark pants,” Little Dan said. “I only saw him for a second, then he stepped around the corner out of sight.”

  “A full body apparition?” Raj asked.

  Little Dan turned around, surprised and grateful. He was glad the others were taking him serious. “Yeah,” he answered. “Full body, and solid, too, like he was really there.”

  “Is it possible someone’s squatting here in the house?” Raj asked the owner, who shrugged.

  “I guess it’s possible,” Forester replied. “The house has been unoccupied for decades. I tried to stay overnight a few days ago, but I got the creeps and drove back to town. I kept hearing… little scratching sounds. In the walls.” He shuddered, then laughed self-consciously.

  If it had been earlier in the day—noon, for example—the prospect of Little Dan’s furtive apparition might have been more enthusiastically welcomed by the men, but it was dusk. The sun was a bloody stain of fading light in the house’s westward facing windows, and the shadows were gathering. The waning daylight made the possibility of a dangerous intruder—or vengeful spirits— just a bit too chillingly real.

  “I suppose we should investigate Dan’s apparition before we tour the home,” Raj said, trying to keep his voice light, but he didn’t look as casual as he was trying to sound, and he didn’t appear overly eager to go poking around the interior of the home either.

  It was the dense atmosphere of the house which had robbed him of his previous excitement, Raj thought. And it was not simply the smell of mold and mildew, rot and animal droppings… the air had a weight, an energy. It was as imperceptible as gravity, only it squeezed the heart.

  Raj swallowed, then gathered his resolve and turned to Big Dan.

  “Will you grab one of the cameras, B. D.?” he asked.

  Big Dan had set the aluminum cases he’d carried inside on the floor. He twitched when Raj addressed him, startled out of his own morbid thoughts. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, then he kneeled down with a grunt and opened the case labeled SONY HVR A-1 in black marker.

  Like Little Dan, Big Dan was ginger-headed, only he was a foot taller and a good one hundred pounds heavier than his fellow cameraman. He sometimes claimed Little Dan was just a big shit he’d taken once and decided to keep as a pet. The other three men watched as he lifted the three thousand dollar HD video camera from its gray, padded niche and set about powering it on and checking its settings. When he was finished, he clambered back to his feet and nodded to Raj.

  “Ready when you are, boss.”

  “You want to tell us what you saw when you stepped inside?” Raj asked Little Dan.

  Big Dan swung the camera toward his partner, and Little Dan, who was not accustomed to being on the other side of the camera, gulped and straightened his clothes.

  “Well… uh, I saw it as soon as I stepped through the door…” he said haltingly.

  When Little Dan was finished recounting his experience, Raj turned to the home’s owner. “What rooms are connected to that hallway?”

  Robert blinked at him for a moment, finally managed to stammer, “Uh… the kitchen and dining room. There’s a library and a small storage room and… well, I guess what they used to call a mud room, where people took off their dirty shoes before coming inside. That room opens to the east side of the house. Oh, and there’s some servant’s quarters on that end of the house, too!”

  Raj made a “let’s move out” gesture, and the quartet headed toward the hallway where Little Dan had seen his specter.

  Little Dan took the lead, as he was the only eye witness. Forester was a pace behind. Raj walked alongside Big Dan, trying to stay out of the shot as much as possible. They skirted the soft spot in the floor, and Raj asked the owner if there were any more rotten floors they should be mindful of.

  “Not that I’m aware of. But I’ve not completely explored the third floor, or any of the attic or basement. Just peeked through the doors. I mostly kept to the first and second floors.”

  They headed into the shadows of the east corridor.

  “Here, let me get the lights,” Forester said, and he stepped forward and flicked the switches just inside the hallway. A small chandelier and several ornate wall sconces gave off a sallow glow, flickering almost imperceptibly due to the house’s ancient wiring. Still, light was light, and the four men were emboldened by it.

  “He was right here when I saw him,” Little Dan said, speaking over his shoulder to the camera. He hurried down the corridor to the place where the hallway angled to the left, describing the apparition’s appearance again as he did. Comforted by the lights and the safety of the group, he was growing excited again.

  The corridor was narrow and suffered from the same sense of disjointedness that the exterior of the home displayed. The wainscoting and trimwork, while hand-cut and beautifully beveled, was neither level nor square. Their dimensions were only off by the tiniest marg
in, but it was enough to ruin the aesthetics of the passage. The walls above were finished in an expensive gravure wallpaper, but the grim red and black print was unsavory at best. The dusty floorboards creaked and popped.

  All the doors, of course, were sensibly shut.

  “I only saw him for a second,” Little Dan said. “It was pretty dark down here, but I had the sense that he was surprised when we walked in. It looked like he was trying to scurry out of sight before anyone noticed him.”

  The redhead gathered his courage, then peered around the corner. He gazed down the far end of the corridor for what seemed to be several seconds too long, then turned back to the group and shrugged.

  “Nobody’s there now. I guess he didn’t feel like sticking around.”

  3

  “This house is everything we could have hoped for and more,” Raj said into his cell phone. He was by himself so he didn’t bother to conceal his excitement. He was standing outside, leaning against the SUV.

  Their group had been exploring the second floor when Allen called. Raj had tried to answer but kept losing his signal, so he’d stepped outside and called the man back. Even out in open, Raj’s phone was barely getting two bars, but that was not surprising as far out in the country as they were. There was no telling how distant the Forester property was from the nearest cell phone tower.

  “Little Dan saw what looked like a human figure slipping out of sight the moment we walked in, and… oh, man, you have to experience this place for yourself, Al! This house has a… presence. That’s the only way I can describe it. The air is thick. Walking through the front door feels like sticking your head in a lion’s jaws. I’ve never felt anything like it. It actually made me dizzy when I first went near the place! I thought I was going to pass out!”

  Faint and slightly garbled, Allen’s voice buzzed from the cell phone’s speaker, “Aw, man, quit teasing me! You’re getting me all wet!”