His smile faltered.
“I mean, I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Soon. I’ve got a few minutes.”
She fidgeted with the pull-tie from her hoodie. The room was a little too tidy. Books were lined up on the shelves with almost military precision, like they were only for display. Colored glass bottles stood on the windowsill, all filled with dark liquids that seemed to swirl and separate. A line of tiny porcelain figurines marched across the mantle over the fireplace. There was no fire at the moment, and except for the ash bucket and fireplace tools standing to one side, it looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. She felt a whisper of warm air brush her cheek.
There was a vent in the ceiling directly over her. Warm air was coming through it. The place had central heating. A modest television sat in a corner, but it was turned off.
“How did you…” she stammered. “How did you get my number, Mister…?”
“Sorry. It’s Hastein, but you can call me Bill. Jeremy’s my son. He’ll be down soon. I saw your flyer at the Edgemont library and kept it in my wallet. I’m glad I did.” He grinned his plastic grin at her again. It seemed almost like he was leering at her. “You never know when you might need another…sitter.”
She wanted to ask if he went through a lot of them.
She shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t like the way he kept pausing before finishing his sentences, as if he meant to say something else but then thought better of it. It was almost like he was listening to someone telling him what to say, someone only he could hear.
But there was no one else. In fact, she was beginning to doubt there was even a boy.
“I hope you don’t mind that I left your phone number with my parents,” she stammered. She hadn’t, but she thought it might be wise to make him think she had. “And your address. I told them I’d call them as soon as I arrived.”
“Of course. I understand.” He moved closer. “Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions?”
She took a step back, but shook her head.
“In the flyer, you said you were in high school?”
He circled around her, now leaving the front door completely unattended. She doubted she’d be able to make it there and unlock it before he was upon her. If he was so inclined.
She nodded stiffly. “I’m a senior. I’ll be eighteen next month.” She felt him behind her, his eyes on the back of her head.
“Eighteen? That’s…good. Eighteen’s a good age. Almost an adult. No,” he laughed rigidly. “What am I saying? You are an adult!”
“Do you mind if I just call my parents to let them know I’ve arrived?” She pulled out her phone.
“Oh, you won’t get a signal.”
She saw that he was right.
“There’s a land line on the table over there.” He pointed. “Feel free to use it. All I ask is that you don’t call long distance. Otherwise, make yourself at home. You’re not allergic to animals, are you?”
“Me? No. Do you have a pet?”
“A pet?” He chirruped. “No, no pets.”
“Then why—?”
“One other question before I go.”
She waited.
“Have you had any experience with…special needs kids?”
“What do you mean?”
He held up a finger, tilting his head as if listening. “Jeremy!”
Cassie jumped in surprise.
“Sorry. It’s easier to introduce you than to explain. In the meantime, this explains everything.” He handed her a sheet of paper. “Instructions, answers. Just read this and you’ll know ninety-nine percent of what you’ll need. Plus all my contact info, all that stuff. I doubt you’ll need it, but just in case…”
She nodded, slowly letting out her breath, relaxing. The paper said he worked for the public works department.
“Ah, here he is, finally. Jeremy, say hello to Cassandra. It is Cassandra, right?”
“Cassie,” she managed to say.
She was shocked by his size. The boy stood as tall and broad as a man. Even hunched over with his head bowed, he filled the room. When he looked over at her, Cassie could see that his eyes seemed unfocused; it was difficult to determine exactly where he was looking. Even so, she could see that they were clear and innocent, none of the hardness of a monster in them, not like some of the kids she’d sat for. These looked like the eyes of a child maybe four or five years old.
“He’s thirteen,” Mister Hastein said, as if he’d read her thoughts. “But I’m afraid he functions at only about half that age. But don’t worry. He’s a gentle giant. He obeys. He’ll be easy.”
He turned and addressed his son directly: “Jeremy, Cassie will be staying with you tonight while I’m at…work. Okay?”
The boy nodded shyly, glancing up at Cassie from the corner of his eyes, then quickly turning away.
“He’ll warm up to you quick. I don’t think he’ll need much, just a bit of company. His bedtime’s not till nine, so he can stay up for a bit. He likes to play…cards.”
“Cards?”
“Rummy.”
Cassie turned to the boy and gave him a weak smile. “I’d love to play cards with you, Jeremy.”
Mister Hastein smiled. Cassie could see Jeremy straighten just a bit and turn slightly more toward her. She nodded encouragingly, but he remained motionless, staring at the floor.
“If he gets upset, just put on a little music.” The man pointed to a small stereo on a shelf. “It’s got his favorite CD in it already. Just turn the power on and hit PLAY.”
“Music soothes the savage beast,” Cassie said, trying to sound cheerful.
Mr. Hastein stared at her.
“Um, does he have any food allergies?”
“Food—?”
“Tender vittles!” the boy exclaimed.
“No,” the man said, frowning at Jeremy. “No allergies, but he’s not to eat anything. Nothing, do you understand? It gives him horrible nightmares.”
“So, he’s—”
“You need to be firm with him. Nothing to eat before bed. Besides, he’s already brushed his teeth. I’ll be home by sunrise tomorrow morning. I’ll bring breakfast then. Understood? I need to know that you understand that last part.”
Cassie nodded.
Some of the tension drained from his face. He rubbed his forehead, as if trying to erase the obvious tension that had gathered there. “Call me if you need anything. Use the landline. And Jeremy? Behave yourself. You treat Cassie nice, okay? Listen to her and do what she says.”
The boy nodded.
“I’ll see you both in the morning, then.” He went over and gave his son a stiff hug and whispered something in his ear.
“Love you…too…Daddy,” Jeremy replied. Even hunched over, he stood six inches taller than his father. Cassie suspected if he straightened, the top of his head would reach nearly to the ceiling.
She suddenly felt very small.
“Oh, and one more thing. If the electricity goes out, there’s a generator down in the basement. I doubt it’ll be necessary,” Mister Hastein said. “But you never know out here. In the basement. Don’t go outside.”
“Out…side,” Jeremy muttered.
“Why not?” Cassie asked. “What’s outside?”
“There’s candles in the cupboard up there.” He pointed. “And matches.”
He slipped through the door before Cassie could respond. She heard the heavy deadbolt slide over and into its slot.
Mr. Hastein had locked her in.
† † †
After she heard Mr. Hastein’s truck start up and pull away, she went over and flipped the deadbolt and opened the door to make sure she wasn’t actually trapped inside the house. She wasn’t, but the open door seemed to upset Jeremy, so she quickly closed it.
“I’m not leaving,” she reassured him.
He shook his head. “Wolves.”
“There’s wolves outside?”
He nodded.
“Well, t
hen we’ll keep the door closed, won’t we?”
Jeremy immediately calmed down again, settling back into his drooping stance and staring only at the floor.
The departure of the boy’s father did little to ease the feeling that had settled over her. She was fairly certain Jeremy wasn’t the cause of it. Even though the boy was unusually large, even for a grown man, she now believed Mr. Hastein when he had told her that Jeremy had a gentle soul. She could tell that just by looking at him. The boy wouldn’t harm a fly. She even suspected that his condition (she had no other way to describe it) probably accounted for why they lived so far from town, out here where nobody might accidentally see him. Jeremy might have the heart of an angel, but out in the real world, she knew that supposedly “good” people could be relentlessly cruel.
His father on the other hand, she just couldn’t figure him out. He had said some very strange things before leaving. Had said them in a strange way, too. Then there was his abrupt change in demeanor, his sudden haste in leaving.
And why lock the door? Wolves couldn’t work doorknobs.
Could they?
She still felt tense, but at least now she could focus on what to do next, on how best to occupy herself for the next twelve hours of her life.
“What would you like to do, Jeremy? Do you want to watch TV?”
Jeremy didn’t move. He continued to stand in the center of the room, as motionless as a statue.
Cassie sighed. She squeezed past Jeremy to check that the phone on the table worked. She didn’t touch him, and he didn’t move. When she heard the familiar dial tone, she set the receiver back down on its cradle rather than calling her parents like she’d said she would. Maybe in an hour, after the boy went to bed. Her parents would be deep into Miracle on 34th Street by now.
“Hungry,” Jeremy mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“Hungry.”
“Oh,” she said. She dared to touch his arm. He flinched, but didn’t draw away. “I can’t. You’re father said—”
“You…Hungry?”
“Me?” And now, as if all it took was asking and she felt suddenly lightheaded. It had been at least eight hours since she’d eaten anything “Actually, I am hungry. I was going to have dinner when your dad called, but then I didn’t have time.”
“Get…food.”
He turned and began to shuffle his way into the kitchen.
“It’s all right. I can get something later.”
By the time she’d followed him in, he’d set out a plate and a jar of peanut butter. A loaf of cheap white bread sat on the counter.
“Make…sandwich.”
“Thank you, Jeremy. I promise, after I’ve eaten something, we’ll play a game together. Okay?”
The boy trudged out of the room, but before he went, Cassie was sure she’d seen the beginnings of a smile touch his lips and the faintest of nods.
She made herself a dry sandwich—there was, unfortunately, no jam in the cabinets or the fridge, and the bread was a bit stale. She washed it down with some cold coffee from a carafe on the counter. The television came on in the other room; she heard some muffled dialogue and the tinny sounds of childish singing.
He must be watching one of his cartoons, she thought, so she took her time eating, leaving the crusts on her plate and pushing it toward the middle of the table when she was finished. She was feeling better. At least the shakiness she’d had earlier was gone.
Jeremy was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, laughing and clapping his hands. On the screen was a green-faced monster with pink lips and bloodshot eyes. Cassie felt her skin crawl with revulsion.
“Why don’t we turn this off,” she said, hurrying over.
Jeremy shook his head. “Grin.”
“What?”
He repeated the word twice more, then clapped and laughed.
Cassie slumped into a chair and tried not to look at the TV screen. She was glad when a clock in some unseen part of the house struck nine. The movie was still on, but Jeremy dutifully stood up and turned it off.
“Bed…time.”
“Do you want me to come up with you?”
Jeremy didn’t answer. He shuffled away. After a moment or so, Cassie heard the creak of the stairs as he went up to his room. Soon, the faint rumble of his snores reached her ears.
Cassie smiled. Twenty dollars an hour for doing this? Even if it was out in the boonies and there was little to eat, this was going to be the easiest babysitting job she’d ever had.
† † †
She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when she heard the noise. It had sounded like a thump, like something soft falling onto the floor or hitting a wall.
She lifted her head. The table lamp beside her was still on, burning brightly. She listened, but didn’t hear anything save the moan of the wind in the trees and the rattling of dry leaves on the porch.
She got up and checked that the lock on the door was still engaged. It wasn’t. She quickly turned it, remembering that she hadn’t locked it back up after checking it earlier. But after standing at the door for a good five minutes, the sound didn’t repeat. She relaxed.
She wandered into the kitchen, thought about making another sandwich, then reconsidered. She picked her used plate, brushed the crumbs into the sink, and placed it next to the empty coffee cup on the counter.
The thumping noise repeated, this time sounding like it was coming from above her.
“Jeremy?”
There was a soft cry. He’d fallen out of bed.
The kitchen opened up on one side and, through the archway, Cassie saw a set of stairs leading up and into the darkness of the second floor. To the left was the bathroom. The soft glow from a nightlight illuminated the sink and toilet in the darkness.
“Jeremy?” she said in a loud whisper, standing at the base of the stairs.
Nothing.
She slowly made her way up the steps, stopping on each one and listening before moving to the next. Several creaked beneath her weight
At the top of the steps, right before they turned toward the landing, there was a small window. As she approached it, more and more of the forest came into view. The moon was covered by clouds, and except for the faint circle, the sky was as black as a cave. Light from the window downstairs spilled out and reflected off the unbroken snowscape. The tops of the trees were whipping about in the wind. She stood for a moment looking out, straining to see beyond the small circle of light, holding her breath.
Just as she was about to turn away, a dark shape made its way along the edge of the wood. She snapped her head back, losing it in the shifting shadows.
It had been too small to be a person. And it left no tracks.
Garbage, she thought. Just a plastic bag blowing in the wind.
In the dark depths of the house behind her, she heard another sob. With a grunt she turned away and slipped quietly up the remaining steps and down the hallway.
Behind the closed door she could hear Jeremy crying out in his sleep, mumbling words too quietly or too incoherently to mean anything. She opened the door and looked in.
Like the bathroom downstairs, Jeremy’s bedroom was dimly lit by a small nightlight, this one located near the floor beneath the window. She looked for him out of bed, but the shape of his massive hulk was clear beneath the twisted blankets. He was thrashing about. The mattress sagged heavily beneath him, and his movements rocked the bed. He jerked violently and the headboard knocked against the wall.
“Well, that explains the thumping.”
She went over and sat on the edge of the bed and reached over. An arm snaked from underneath the sheet and flopped to one side by her leg. The hand was closed, but there was something in it.
Cassie bent over to see what it was.
It looked like…
She gasped, holding her hand up to her face. It looked like a finger.
The hand pulled back under the blanket and out of sight.
“Jeremy?”
“Gr…,” she heard him say.
She frowned.
There was another violent spasm and the bed banged loudly against the wall. The hand reached out again, opened briefly. Out dropped the object. It tumbled to the floor.
Cassie drew back in horror, her throat constricting. She kicked it away, but it crumbled into pieces. It wasn’t a finger after all.
She reached over and picked them up.
Bread, squeezed into a thin mass by the strength of his grip. It fell apart at her touch.
She realized it was the crusts of her sandwich. Jeremy must have snagged them on his way to bed. And now he was having nightmares because she’d left them where he could find them and sneak them. He must’ve fallen asleep eating.
He yelled out, startling her.
“Jeremy—”
“No, no.”
She reached over to wake him. “Jer—”
“No, Grin!”
She laid a hand over his face.
Thump!
Cassie frowned. The bed hadn’t moved.
“Jeremy, wake up!”
The boy jerked. He shot up and out of bed, flinging the blankets from his body. His eyes were wide with terror, unseeing and yet seeing what Cassie could not see. His eyes were open, but he was still asleep.
“Grin…GRIN!”
Thump…THUMP!
“Jeremy! Wake up!”
She grabbed his shoulders and shook him as hard as she could. Even so, she seemed to have scarcely any effect on his body. He continued to stare about the room, sobbing, twisting about. His eyes didn’t settle on her. In his mind, she didn’t exist.
BANG!
The noise was coming from downstairs now. There was definitely something in the house with them.
“Jeremy,” she hissed.
“Go…away! No Grin!”
Cassie did the only thing she could think of doing: she slapped him.
Jeremy stopped thrashing. His head stopped jerking. He blinked and his eyes lit upon Cassie.
“It’s me, Jeremy, Cassie. There’s something…I need to…”
Terror drained from his face, but it was replaced by a different kind of fear. He cowered away from her.
Insomnia: Paranormal Tales, Science Fiction, & Horror Page 3