by Ayse Hafiza
The door to the children’s bedroom swung closed behind Idris, Saima knew she should be in with him consoling her sister and apologizing for never being allowed to watch television again. But before she could do that she had a job to do. Instead of going into her room she turned left, her focus was on the white door of the box room. Tentatively she took steps toward it and slowly pushed open the door. The bed was there, but all of her uncle’s things were gone. Holding back tears she stepped further into the room. He wasn’t meant to leave, he had promised them that their parents would be okay. If she had known he had the ability to protect them, Saima would not have made a bargain with Lizzy offering him to her while she was sick. She shuddered, she didn’t want to think back to that moment when in her delirious state she heard the words her uncle had spoken about making a bargain for her own safety.
He was the only adult who offered them protection, so now he was significantly more important than Saima could have ever guessed before. Feeling cheated she sat on his bed swinging her legs underneath her. As she sat there she remembered the feeling of ants crawling on the inside of her skin, it had been such a strange feeling when Lizzy had overpowered her. Her brain had hurt, and she knew she wasn’t in control of herself. Saima had unmistakably offered Uncle Waleed to Lizzy, it was all she could do to keep herself and her family safe while she was sick.
She needed to think of a way out of this. As much as she wanted to confront the people downstairs, she knew that wouldn’t be good. As long as she pretended she wasn’t aware of what was happening, things would be ok. That would be the only way she could ensure her brother and sister’s survival. As she looked around the room, she saw a strand of his hair laying on the window sill. It was the only thing that belonged to him left in the house. Saima picked it up and held it between her fingers, feeling the texture as she rolled in between her thumb and forefinger.
“Where did you go?” she asked it, knowing the last answer would be America. Blowing the hair into the air, it caught the dying light as it fell slowly to the carpet. Landing in a horseshoe shape both ends pointing to the back of the house. Before it had even landed, she knew the answer. Of course, that was where he went because that was where George had been for so long, Saima knew whatever happened she would never step foot in the garage again. If her uncle had disappeared into the garage, then there could be no doubt. She couldn’t think about that. It was too terrifying to contemplate.
She turned and left the room. Saima had a head start over her brother and sister, at least she knew who the people downstairs really were and what was going on, and for that reason when she joined them to commiserate the loss of the television, she didn’t share what she believed to be true. Instead, she listened to Idris calm Laila, and she said nothing at all.
A model child was what Kawser thought of her youngest daughter as she watched her eat the food on her plate. She hadn’t even complained that her mom had made them bacon sandwiches for dinner.
Laila had, she wondered why her mom would cook them bacon because they had never eaten it before, Lizzy couldn’t hide her surprise, why hadn’t the children's mom made it for them? Then she remembered what Frank had said about the immigrant family being of a different religion. Laila had said that as Muslims they didn’t eat bacon, she had given her another slap for that. But Lizzy knew that the children were just a little bit different to herself and George, and that was going to take getting used to.
She thought nothing more of it, and later that night as she looked at her face in the bathroom mirror her mind wandered. The mirror before her wasn’t the same as the one Lizzy used to gaze into for hours, this mirror had nothing special about it. It was just a cubed reflective square that showed an unfamiliar brown face. Lizzy had to remind herself that now she was Kawser. So far it seemed that no one had realized, especially not that meddling Waleed. He honestly thought he would turn up and be the hero. Lizzy knew family didn’t behave like that, normal families usually left but he never seemed to get it. He never took the hint that his meddling wasn’t appreciated.
She washed her face and put on her nighty, Lizzy waited in the bathroom until she heard George, or Rashid as he was now known, go into his bedroom. She crept from the bathroom into the bedroom where the three children were sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. This was the time at which Lizzy would sit and watch them all night. They were a perfectly happy family, something that she had been unable to provide George while they were alive. This time though, this time she hoped that finally he would be happy.
Lizzy lay down pulling her frilled bedspread up around her neck and watched Laila’s chest rise and fall, many times she had to remember not to call her Gail. It was hard for her to get her tongue around all these foreign names. Although the amount of time in which she had spent observing them all, she knew how to pronounce their names, little Saima had taught her. And well conquering Kawser hadn’t been difficult at all. Lizzy already had a connection with little Saima so she could reach her easily. A mom would do anything necessary to protect her children. That was her way in. She had terrorized Kawser into submitting to her. That was what Lizzy had wanted. She had been angry at George for trapping her in their old house for so long, she needed to give him an offering, she needed to appease him and if that meant living with him again in their house that was what had to happen.
With her eyes open she pretended to sleep. She watched little Saima fall asleep, the last of all the children. She was the child Lizzy liked the most, the one that used to stay up with her at night and who stood with her looking out from the bedroom window watching George. Lizzy couldn’t help but wonder if she realized what had happened. The little girl didn’t seem interested in keeping an eye on the garage anymore. Had she realized that George wasn’t there? Even if she did, it didn’t matter much. Tomorrow Kawser decided that she would go and buy a bottle of Georges favorite whiskey. If he was happy hopefully he would let her go.
After returning from dropping the children to school, she found George in the garage. Lizzy stopped briefly by the back door, wondering if she should go and see what he was up to. They seemed to be getting on better than ever before, so she decided to take a chance. Lizzy slowly made her way over only stopping when she reached the garage door, she wanted to offer to help. But the garage was George’s domain, and she was acutely aware of that.
“What can I do to help?” asked Lizzy.
“Nothing,” grumbled George as he moved Waleed’s body onto a plastic sheet.
‘He was always the same,’ she thought to herself. ‘Always in a bad mood.’
“You better watch that mood in front of the children,” warned Lizzy.
George said nothing, the children were in school, so he didn’t need to pretend around her.
“I’m going to take his car and go dump his body; do you want to come?” asked George.
He never asked her to do anything with him, so Lizzy knew it was working. George was starting to soften toward her, she could only have hope that he would release her from this personal hell if this continued.
George drove the silver Datsun into the alley and Lizzy helped him lift Waleed’s suitcase, which contained his gruesome remains, into the trunk of the car. George had managed to butcher him perfectly. They sat in silence as they drove to the bog and with her help and a few rocks the body was banished to the bottom.
Together they watched the mud slowly cover the surface of the suitcase.
“Do you think Waleed will come back?” asked Lizzy.
He knew what she meant, she was talking about whether they needed to worry about his presence coming back into their house. Whether he was going to come and try to defend the children somehow.
George shook his head, he wasn’t going to worry about it. It wasn’t him that the little girl made a bargain with, so in reality, George had very little to do with the death of Waleed. George shrugged, if Waleed came back it wasn’t going to be his problem.
They drove back to the house, and Lizzy was in
good spirits, it was the first time in a very long time that they had done something together. Well, actually that was wrong, they possessed the bodies of Kawser and Rashid, so murdering Rashid’s brother was another thing that would count.
If they chose to do one more thing together, then that would be three things, and everyone knew that by doing three things together made it a habit. Lizzy knew what that would be, but that was a larger operation and it would take some work. Right now, she was happy that she and George, after a lifetime acting like they had done so in the past, were now acting like a couple again. Even though it felt foreign, it still felt good. Lizzy hadn’t been used to be being with him, she had always served him. But now for the first time, she was his equal, his partner, even if it was in crime. If George could somehow find happiness then maybe things would change, and he would release her from prison.
Lizzy needed things to change, she was so very tired of being angry. The only thing she had felt since her death was anger and now she finally had a chance to be something other than that. They weren’t perfect, but somehow after their deaths, they were still together and working on their relationship. In itself that wasn’t a reason for happiness, but somehow if she did enough to earn his forgiveness then maybe, somehow, she would be able to finally be free of him. Things were already changing, when she had been away from the house, George had decided to possess Rashid so he would be the man of the house again.
Lizzy was hopeful that in some way there would be an end to their perpetual existences and that they would be able to move on somewhere else. As she watched Rashid drive the car, she finally started to feel something that had been alien to her. She couldn’t name the emotion, but it was hope, and she was beginning to recognize it.
22
After School Club
The children were ready for school with no fuss, which surprised Lizzy as she got ready to take them that morning. Without access to the television, they were so much faster, so much more obedient. Surely George would have no complaints if the children behaved like angels. Without having to tell them off too much the children had picked up on the authoritarian atmosphere in the house. She gave them their kiss at the school gates and waved goodbye to them, letting the children escape to normal lives.
During their breaks, they would watch the other children play hopscotch in the schoolyard. Saima was envious that those children would go home to a normal family. A real mom and dad, instead she would go home to two monsters. The last thing Saima wanted to do was go home.
Idris would watch her, and she knew she needed to tell him. But how could she tell him that their parents weren’t really the people they once were. That they had been tainted by the ghosts who lived in their house and that she had an idea about what they were planning to do with them, and that idea terrified her. She watched the other children as they ran around her, and all she wanted to do was live someone else’s life, then it occurred to her that was exactly what Lizzy and George were doing. Suddenly Saima felt guilty for wishing things were different. Instead, she committed to working out how they could escape from both of them and the house.
An overactive imagination, those were the words her teacher had said, and those were the same words her older sister had repeated to her when she complained about their lack of television privileges. Maybe Saima had an overactive imagination, but her survival instinct was stronger than her imagination.
At the end of the school day, Saima dragged her feet as she walked toward Lizzy who waited by the gates. She thought about saying the words Hi Lizzy, just to see how she reacted. Maybe if their mom went crazy, the teachers would see and Saima and her brother and sister wouldn’t need to go home with the old woman. But she didn’t dare, the welt she had on her face before had convinced her that she needed to play ball. Besides, their missing uncle who was probably being hidden in the garage was enough to convince Saima that she needed a different plan.
The children didn’t run home, they knew that Rashid would be there.
“Did Daddy go to work today?” asked Laila.
Saima shook her head, Laila was dumb.
“Why don’t you go to work Laila, if you are so concerned about who is or isn’t going?” replied their mom.
Laila looked at the ground as she took her steps, their mom had never spoken to her like that before.
Saima was in no doubt that icy tone belonged to Lizzy.
“Can we have some money?” asked Saima.
“What for?” asked Lizzy.
“So we can buy some penny sweets and come home later?” replied Saima.
Lizzy took out her purse, Idris watched her every move like a hawk. She opened it and shuffled the pennies around then she looked up.
“No, sorry kids I don’t have enough,” said Lizzy, even though there was an abundance of copper one and two penny pieces that the children could see. Lizzy gave Saima that smile, the one which drove a chill down her spine.
That fake friendly smile.
They walked slowly back to the house. Saima stood on the paving slab, the one from her nightmares, and thought back to the nightmares she once had. How tame that dream seemed now. She actually wanted the concrete paving slab to capture her now and stop her from going back to the house where she knew her dad would be waiting for them. But her foot came away and Saima knew that it was fate, she would have to go into the house. There would be no getting out of it.
“Did you hear from Uncle Waleed? Did he get to America okay?” asked Laila.
As quick as a whip their mom clipped her around the ear, Laila would get beaten again if she continued to ask questions like that.
“Go wash up children and come down after for your snack,” her voice was almost sing-song as they piled into the house. The sound of the television blaring from the back room was enough to tell them that Dad was home still.
The children rushed upstairs.
“Why did Mom hit me?” asked Laila as she rubbed her ear.
“Dad and Uncle Waleed were arguing, maybe that was the reason. Maybe Mom didn’t want to discuss it,” said Idris.
Saima walked to the back window and looked out at the garage, she couldn’t see Uncle Waleed, but she sensed he had been in there, almost as if his body heat left a signature that she could pick up on. As she stood there watching, she noticed their mom out in the garden picking up the laundry. As if sensing she was being watched her mom turned and looked up at her. Saima took a step away because instead of her mom’s beautiful big brown eyes were the abyss like holes of Lizzy.
Laila had left the room so only Idris had noticed his sister stumble back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mom is sick too,” said Saima stepping further away from the window.
“How do you know that?”
“I can see that Lizzy has got to her.”
“I told you don’t mention her name.”
“Idris you need to believe me. Lizzy attacked Mom at uncle’s house. I wasn’t sure about it, wasn’t sure if I dreamed it, but now I know it was real. Ever since it happened Mom has been acting weird and just now. . .her eyes looked exactly like Lizzy’s.”
“I never saw her eyes, I could only ever see a black mist,” said Idris sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I think we need to run away,” Saima looked at him as she said it.
The children hadn’t noticed the bedroom door was partially open and standing outside the bedroom, was Laila and she had heard the tail end of their conversation. She knew that her little brother and sister were planning on running away.
Well, the other thing about Laila was that she had been punished by Lizzy with a clip around the ear and she didn’t enjoy being the only child who was singled out. So, Laila took that valuable information about her younger brother and sister’s plans and headed downstairs, determined that they too should also be punished.
The house was silent when Saima and Idris walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Their mom had not put their snacks on the t
able. “Mom aren’t you going to give us our snacks?” asked Idris.
Saima could see that her mood had changed, and it would be difficult to miss the smug expression on Laila’s face.
“Mom and Dad know,” she announced triumphantly.
“Laila!” shouted her mother.
“Know what?” asked Idris, doubting their older sister would have been so incredibly stupid as to tell on them.
“That you are planning to run away,” said Laila.
Idris held his breath; how could she betray them like that? That wasn’t what she was meant to do, she was supposed to be looking out for them.
“Don’t be so silly Laila,” said Saima, her casual tone masking her growing panic. “Don’t make stuff up to get us in trouble.”
Saima went and sat at the kitchen table. Idris joined her. Their mom watched them suspiciously.
“But–but,” Laila stuttered as the clap sounded Kawser’s hand met with Laila’s face.
The children winced at the sound, that would have hurt there was no doubt about it, but they pretended nothing was wrong as Laila ran back upstairs sobbing.
The two children sat and ate their after school fruits quietly. Between them they understood that if they were going to run away, there would be no margin for error. And no room for Laila to join them if she didn’t realize that her parents had changed.
After they finished their snacks, they went up to see Laila.
“Don’t you get it?” asked Saima in a whisper.
“Get what?” she sobbed as she nursed her reddened face.
“Mom and Dad aren’t who they used to be.”
“Well if they aren’t Mom and Dad then who are they?”
“They are Lizzy and George pretending to be them,” said Saima.
“Who are they?”
“The people who owned this house before us. They both died, and their ghosts are trapped here,” said Saima. “Don’t you remember I told you about my imaginary friend Lizzy?”