by Carol Weekes
Tanya was just finishing up making a call to a restaurant.
“I’ve ordered an extra-large pizza for the boys,” she started, then saw his face. “What’s wrong? You’re running around like something’s upset you.”
“I haven’t seen Cory for the past couple of hours. Cole said he was exploring the house about an hour ago, but I can’t find him.”
Tanya gripped the telephone receiver. “He must be outside, or maybe exploring the basement. You know how curious he is. I’m sure he’s fine, honey. They’re going to spend days exploring this place.”
“I’d just like to know where he is,” he snapped.
“Robbie. He’s a kid. He’s going to go play. One of the reasons we bought this house was so that the boys could have a lot more room.”
Robbie turned and went into the basement, searching. He opened the two car garage and peered into its murk. No Cory. He hurried outside, dodging the rain and stepped into the small barn, poking inside the stall, behind leftover hay that he made a mental note to remove soon, and climbed the ladder to the loft.
“Cory!” He yelled. His voice floated away, drowned out by a rumble of thunder. Frantic, he spent the next twenty minutes searching the grounds and edges of the woods around the house. Tanya ran out with an umbrella towards him, her expression mounting in concern.
“No luck?”
“No, and that creek is filling up from this rain.” For the first time, fear crossed her features.
“You don’t think he’d try walking into town, do you?”
“I’m going to go get the boys and have them help search for him. This storm is increasing and I don’t want him outside in it.”
They burst in through the front door and he mounted the stairs towards Cole’s room where he could still hear his older boys conversing.
“Boys! You need to help Mom and I find your brother.”
At the same instant, he heard a thud come from inside the guest bedroom area and felt the hair on the back of his neck lift. He thought he heard something shuffling.
Chapter 6
“What the hell is going on?” he said and hurried into the room. The main room was empty, but he sensed something in that damned bathroom again. He ran into it. Cory, looking dazed and sitting on the bathroom floor, stared up at him. His clothes were dusty. Robbie gaped at him.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour!”
He looked like a disoriented kid waking up from a heavy sleep, his lids heavy, his gaze unfocused. He had cobwebs in his hair and a scrape along the inside of his right forearm, freshly beaded with blood. Robbie squatted down beside him.
“Son, where have you been? And what happened to your arm?”
He seemed to look through his father. “I don’t know. I came to look in this room. I wasn’t sure if I wanted this one or the other one. I can’t remember.”
“Did you fall asleep in a closet somewhere?”
“I don’t know.”
Robbie helped him stand.
“Did you find some hiding spot in the house?” he persisted. “I won’t be angry. I just want to know where you went. I looked through these rooms. Where did you come from?”
Again, Cory just stared at him. Chris and Cole came into the room behind them.
“I don’t remember,” Cory said. “I came in here and then I just don’t remember.” Tears formed along the lids of his eyes.
“Okay, okay,” Robbie cuddled him. “Don’t cry. At least we found you. It doesn’t matter.”
“Is he all right?” Cole asked.
“Yeah,” he said quickly, although his gut told him otherwise. “Did you see him come into this room?”
“No,” Chris said. “We’ve been in our room the whole time and he never walked past us.”
“Well, he had to have done it because he’s here, right? And he wasn’t in here when I searched before.”
Tanya reached the top of the stairs now. “Did you find him?”
“Yes,” he said above the boys’ heads. “He’s here. He’s scraped his arm somehow, and he seems out of it as if he fell asleep somewhere.”
Tanya looked at Cory.
“Honey, where were you? You scared Dad and I. We know you want to explore, but Mom would really like it if you keep tabs with us, okay? Cory?”
He looked past her, at the mirror in the guest bathroom. Robbie saw his reflection and how his eyes looked like deep, dazed orbs. He shivered powerfully. Had he seen something in that glass too? What the hell was it with this mirror? Robbie wanted to ask, but didn’t want to upset Cory any further than he already was. He made a note to wait until the right moment.
“I’m thinking that you fell asleep somewhere, like maybe inside a closet or a cupboard and that you’ve just woken up.” Tanya kissed his forehead. “I’m not sure how you scraped your arm, sweetie, but I’ll get that fixed up for you. Let’s all go downstairs. Food’s on the way. Dad will get a nice fire going in the wood stove for us.”
A bolt of lightning cut through the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the house. Tanya took Cory by the hand and led him downstairs. Chris followed them. Cole waited in the spare room for Robbie as he stood in the bathroom, his face quizzical.
“Go down and join them,” Robbie told him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Cole hesitated.
“What?” Robbie said.
“What’s bugging you?” Cole asked. “You’re acting weird. He’s okay. Like Mom said, he probably fell asleep somewhere. Everything’s cool.”
“I know.” He lied to him next. “I just want to clean up these insects first. Go ahead.”
Cole shrugged, turned, and Robbie heard his feet banging down the stairs a few seconds later.
* * *
Robbie rested his hands on the counter top and looked into the mirror. He tried to move the frame, but it wouldn’t budge. It was adhered to the wall. It was old, smoky glass. He knew that Tanya might want to keep it because it was probably original to the house, but he realized that he wanted it gone. The house had a few other mirrors; one inside their walk-in bedroom closet, a modern one in their bathroom, another mounted in the main entrance hall. A house needs mirrors, he thought. But he certainly didn’t like this one.
“What did you do to him?” he asked. He examined every facet of the mirror, using his fingers to follow along its frame and edges, seeking anything that could indicate an entrance point, a lever or switch that might open it and into a crawl space behind a wall…anything that would make sense to him because now he knew that the stuff on Cory’s clothing was plaster dust. He’d been somewhere between the walls of the house, some internal crawlspace or area not meant for daily living. He also knew that his two other sons were telling him the truth when they said that Cory hadn’t walked by their room to get here. That meant only one thing: he’d been in here all along when Robbie had first looked for him, but he’d been hidden from sight. Where and how?
“Fucking room,” he murmured and examined the tub area, behind the door, opening the cupboards and searching for any crawlspace or hole that could lead into the house’s walls. He found nothing. He stood up, exasperated, as the doorbell rang.
“Pizza’s here, Robbie, if you want some,” Tanya called.
“I’ll be right down.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas,” he said to the mirror, not sure what or who he thought he addressed. He felt as if he’d just purchased a house with a malignancy in it. To argue to sell it would crush Tanya. She’d think him insane. And what would he tell her? That he wanted to sell because he was afraid of the mirror in the guest bathroom, afraid of the house in general because something about it felt ‘funny,’ something for which he couldn’t put a finger upon? He went down to join his family in the kitchen for dinner, but he’d lost any semblance of an appetite.
Chapter 7
After they finished dinner, Robbie got a fire going in the woodstove, given the day had grown cool and damp.
They sat on the floor with their food and drinks. Robbie picked at his food. Tanya noted it.
“You not feeling well?”
He shrugged. “I’m tired; long day. Maybe I’ll want to eat more later.” He pushed the plate away.
Cory, on the other hand, had snapped out of whatever funk he’d been in when Robbie had found him. He looked through some electronic gaming magazines that Chris had found inside a box. Robbie watched him. When his usual smile returned, Robbie relaxed a little, but he’d be keeping an eye on him over the evening and into the next few days to see where he went. A part of him wanted to deny access to that guest bedroom, but that would make it frightening to his family and he couldn’t offer a rational explanation for doing so. Who wanted to live in a house with a concealed room that sits like a secret behind plaster and paint?
“I’d say it’s time for you to go to bed soon, sleepy head,” Tanya told Cory who’d curled up in a nearby chair.
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” he asked. Tanya looked surprised. It was not something that Cory had asked to do since he’d been three or four years old.
“But we set up your bed, honey,” she said, “and it’s all ready to go. Your nice blankets, some of your toys; it’s your own space.”
“The house is so big,” he said. Something about his words made Robbie shiver again.
“What if we start you out there and see how it goes?” Robbie asked. “You can’t sleep with us every night.”
“It is really big,” he said. “It goes everywhere.”
“Everywhere,” Robbie echoed, wanting to ask him what he meant by that, but Tanya interjected.
“We can leave a soft lamp on in the hallway for the first few nights so that you can find the bathroom, okay?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Pajama time.”
Robbie reached out and touched her hand as she passed him, and she gave his fingers an affectionate squeeze.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she told him. He didn’t want her to leave Cory alone, not even in their bedroom. He had this overwhelming fear that he’d go to check on him and he’d be gone again. There had to be a rational explanation that he just hadn’t discovered.
Chris and Cole got up a few minutes later.
“We’re going upstairs to play some backgammon.”
“Okay,” Robbie said, feeling better that the older boys would be up there. Then another thought struck him: what if something happened to all three of his children? Okay, he thought. Enough. This was not a good way to begin living in their new house.
“Have fun, boys,” he said. “Do me a favor and peek in on Cory over the next little while. Make sure he doesn’t get up and go wandering again.”
“Yeah, okay,” Chris said, his tone suggesting that Robbie was being the overly-worried parent yet again. Robbie sat in the parlor and watched the reflection of flames dance across the walls of the room.
Tanya returned and they poured more wine to enjoy in front of the fire.
“You happy?” he asked her. “With the house?”
She gave him the biggest smile. “Sweetheart, it is a dream come true,” she said. “I couldn’t be happier. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, and thought that it was a good thing she couldn’t see his face because, as happy as he was for her, he couldn’t rid himself of a dreadful anticipation of something unknown. He heard the older boys pad along the hallway, a toilet flush, and knew that one of them peeked into his and Tanya’s bedroom. Nothing undue occurred. At eleven o’clock Tanya and he went upstairs to bed, the woodstove fire nicely kindled for the evening. Cory was fast asleep in the middle of their bed.
“I’ll get him into his bed,” Tanya said and went to reach for him.
“No,” Robbie said. “Let him stay with us tonight. I don’t want him falling down those damn stairs in the dark.”
Tanya laughed. “I can leave the light on the bathroom. Robbie, the boys will be fine.”
“Just let him have tonight with us,” he said. “We’ll get all of their rooms fixed up tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m glad we have a queen-sized bed.”
Tanya fell asleep with Cory snuggled against her. Robbie laid awake in the dark and listened to the house go quiet. He heard rain tap along the roof and move along the eaves. He felt the gentle warmth of the heat from the woodstove rise up the stairs to embrace them. Sometime after midnight, he finally fell asleep.
* * *
He wasn’t sure what woke him up, but it came as a sound that traveled through his sleep like a gentle but persistent nudge. Robbie’s eyes shot open in the dark. He felt a sense of disorientation, then remembered where he was. He saw Tanya’s sleeping form, her face pale in soft moonlight. Cory slept with his mouth open. Robbie relaxed, yet listened for something. He heard the toilet in their bathroom trickle water along a pipe. The storm had long passed on, leaving the night sky clear and star-studded.
Something slid over the floor in another room. He propped himself up, listening, wondering if one of the boys was awake. He rose and padded into the corridor, pausing by Chris’s room. Chris was asleep. On impulse, he reached into the common bathroom and sought the light switch. He felt a sudden need to yank his hand back, as if something in there might grab onto his fingers. Warm light filled the room and spilled into the hallway. He edged along the corridor, peeking into Cole’s room. Cole was also asleep.
Robbie faced the doorway of the guest room. The air near it felt cooler, as if the continuing warmth from the woodstove met some kind of transparent barrier outside its entrance. He put his hand up and felt inside. It was definitely cooler and the air smelled faintly of chalk. He closed Cole’s door so as not to wake him, switched off the light in the bathroom, then padded back through darkness to the spare bedroom. He stepped inside, triggered the light switch, and shut the door so he wouldn’t awaken his family. He faced the room. He’d thought he’d heard a soft, shuffling sound, like the noise of a box or something solid being pushed along the floor.
Its emptiness met him face on, its windows looking black against the night, its walls like four hands cupping him, its closet door wide open to its sterile interior, its adjacent bathroom darker. He walked around the room, feeling its walls with his hands, running his fingers along runnels in its plaster, looking for something, some hidden button or device that might open the chamber that had taken his boy into it. He found nothing. He searched the closet with equal intensity. Again, nothing.
“I know the sound came from you,” he whispered to the room. Although his family slept within twenty-five feet, he felt alone, stranded in here. Angry, he hastened to its bathroom. He almost turned on the light, then had a notion to leave the light off and to look into the mirror.
Chapter 8
The tub shone like dull alabaster, the toilet sitting prim like an ivory sphinx. He spun to face the mirror.
Cory stood there, facing him from the opposite side of the glass, his fingers moving along the surface and making soft squeaking sounds as if trying to find a way out. His eyes were focused on something beyond Robbie. Then, he began to cry. “Daddy?” he asked. “Mommy?”
“Cory?” Robbie rushed at the mirror, fingers crunching hard against glass to reach his son. Instantly, Cory blinked out, his image replaced with Robbie’s stark, horror-etched reflection.
“What the fuck?” he yelled. Robbie slapped the mirror hard with his hands and felt a strange kind of tickling on one side of his face, the sensation of fine filaments brushing over his skin as if something had passed him in the dark. He pulled his hands back and the mirror stuck to him with the movement, glued against his skin like wet material – a thin veil of silver that clung like cool jelly before retracting. He yanked his hands back and watched the mirror ripple, then go still. Mesmerized, he poked it with a finger. It was hard, silver glass again.
“I’m not dreaming,” Robbie said. “I know what I just felt.” A dank aroma of old wo
od, dust, and something else, something rancid like long-dead mouse bodies, blew at him and he knew without doubt that not only was the house dangerous, but that something within this room served as its core energy source, a malevolent pivotal point, a portal to something sinister. It was an innocuous room in a house that didn’t feel right; it wasn’t the traditional creepy basement, wasn’t the lonely attic – the familiar tenets of ‘bad places’ in too many horror films. An empty bathroom at the end of a corridor…
Something cold swept over his feet. He looked down and saw that, in the minute he’d been captured by the mirror, the tub had filled with stagnant water that bubbled up from the drain, foamy and black, the bubbles bursting with the stink of methane gas. The sinister water trickled over the edge and onto the tiled floor. Robbie felt things move in that water and something stung his bare feet.
“Get off me!” He slapped at the light switch in the bathroom. Light spilled on. The tile floor was clean, white, devoid of water. The tub was stark, sterile. His feet were dry, untouched. He stared at the mirror. He saw a man with a night’s worth of beard-growth whose dark blue eyes formed pinpoints of terror. He tore through the empty bedroom and ran towards the door, expecting it not to open. It opened and he stumbled into the hallway, urine-yellow light spilling out behind him. Cole stirred in his bed and Robbie heard his mattress squeak as he got up. His form filled his doorway, his longish hair looped in messy cowlicks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Robbie. “You look spooked. What are you doing in that room?”
Robbie hurried past him and burst into the main bedroom, feeling for Cory. He found him cuddled against Tanya. He felt warm, soft. He heard Cole approach their door.
“Dad,” he whispered. “He’s fine. You’re having a bad dream.”
Robbie stood, hands shaking, the spit in his mouth gone dry.
“I’m awake,” Robbie said.