One by One

by D. W. Gillespie

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” was the last thing Alice heard as the door closed.

  She waited, tracking her mother’s footsteps back upstairs and into the bathroom. Moments later, she heard the faint hum of the shower. When the coast was clear, she emerged once more and approached Dean’s door with a slight tap. He grunted from behind the door; she opened it slightly, peering inside.

  “What is it?” he asked as he rummaged through one of his boxes of clothes.

  “Nothing,” Alice said, stepping into the room.

  “Then go. I’m busy.”

  Alice nodded but refused to move. When Dean looked up again, he threw his hands out to his sides.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” Alice said truthfully. “I don’t know what’s going on with any of us. I just…wanted to talk about it, I guess.”

  “Then talk.”

  Alice realized, to her surprise, that she didn’t know what to say. “It’s just…I…I…”

  They stood two feet apart, her brother hulking over her, a surly, teenage giant. His face was blank, a mask of utter malaise that met every moment in life, the good and bad, with nonchalant complacency.

  “I…I…”

  The longer she looked at him, stumbling over her words, her thoughts bubbling into a mess that even she couldn’t decipher, the more alone she felt, stranded on an island in the middle of the sea while her brother stood in a boat just offshore, too stubborn to come save her.

  “Spit it out.”

  “I mean…” She paused. “I don’t know what to say. Her lip quivered. “Maybe Dad was right. Maybe we all deserve to be roughed up. If all that we can do for each other is just stand there and stare, then maybe our dumb family doesn’t deserve to be happy at all.”

  Alice intended to turn and stomp away, to escape the room with the final word before the tears actually started to stream down her face, but Dean never gave her the chance. He swept over her like a tidal wave, wrapping her up in a big brother hug that she couldn’t hope to escape. Alice melted.

  “It’s okay,” he said as she cried tears onto his chest. “It’s going to be okay.”

  They stayed like that for a while, neither of them quite able to break away. More than once, she could hear him sniffing as well, and Alice knew the boy who played with his little sister was back, at least for a moment. When she finally did push back, her eyes were red.

  “Thanks for being my brother again,” she said.

  Dean rolled his eyes. “Shit,” he muttered, “I always was.”

  Alice scurried off to the kitchen, feeling surprisingly better. The entire situation was still a mess, but the sun was out. Things would get better for all of them; she had to believe it.

  Unless, the dark voice whispered, they get worse.

  Chapter Eight

  “Shit.”

  Alice stepped into the kitchen, the smell of apple cinnamon oatmeal with granola filling the air. It was her favorite breakfast on workdays when her mom was in a hurry. Weekends were for homemade waffles.

  “No, no, no…shit.”

  Debra was standing at the stovetop, slowly stirring the oats that had been warming on the stove. She was already dressed for the office, and her job as the director of finance at a corporate shipping company was never one to let her have too much time off. She and Frank both tried to take off as much time as possible during the winter break between Christmas and New Year’s, but occasionally, she had to make an appearance. She held her phone in one hand and glared at it as she stirred with a wooden spoon.

  “Shit, shit, shit!”

  “What?” Alice asked finally.

  Debra turned and gave a frustrated half smile. “Sorry…didn’t realize you were in here yet.”

  “What’s the emergency?”

  “It’s the damn weather,” she said with a sigh.

  Alice perked up. “Snow?”

  “Yes,” Debra replied. “The forecast is still calling for a lot. Ugh. I have so much crap to do at work, and there’s not nearly enough food here.…”

  She launched into a list of what she needed to get done before making it home that day, but Alice didn’t hear most of it. She was too occupied with the very exciting development that there might be snow. Their part of Tennessee didn’t get much snow. For them, half an inch was enough to close schools, so the potential of a real blizzard was beyond exciting.

  “How much?” she asked.

  “How much what, honey?”

  “Snow?”

  “I shouldn’t even tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll probably be disappointed. Whenever they predict this much snow, it hardly ever turns out.”

  Alice’s eyebrows shot up. “How…much…?”

  “Six to eight inches.”

  The most snow Alice had ever seen was probably a solid three inches. That was enough to get them out of school for four straight days, and every one of them was spent sledding. But six to eight? She imagined building entire igloos with that.

  “Go tell your brother to come eat if he wants something hot.”

  Alice did so with a bounce in her step that she wouldn’t have thought possible mere minutes earlier.

  “Dean!” she said, poking her head through his door.

  “What?” He was still working on the box of clothes, and Alice couldn’t help but think how odd it was to see her brother proactive for once.

  “It’s going to snow.”

  He tilted his head. Any remnants of their earlier moment seemed to have melted away, but Alice didn’t mind. Now, she knew that the big brother was still hiding inside the teenager if she ever needed him again.

  “Cool…”

  “Six to eight inches!” she squealed.

  He tried not to smile, and she wasn’t sure if it was from her news or from her bubbly reaction. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  She told him about breakfast before she raced back into the kitchen for a bowl. She filled it up with brown sugar and granola and sat at the table, bouncing in her seat and crunching away. Halfway through her bowl, Dean strolled in as well.

  “You’re in charge today,” Debra told him.

  “I know,” he replied.

  “I’ve got to run. I’ll probably be home early, but I have to run by the store.… Who knows what kind of a mess that will be. Keep an eye on each other. Don’t go outside.”

  “Why?” Alice asked with a full mouth. “What if it starts snowing?”

  “Fine,” Debra said. “Just don’t go out alone.” She had her purse over one shoulder and was nearly out of the kitchen when she stopped, seeming to consider something.

  “Don’t go out by the pool.”

  Neither of the kids argued with that.

  “Love you two…have a good day.”

  And then, she was gone, and the two of them were alone with the giant, silent house.

  “No way in hell it’s snowing,” Dean said as he filled up his bowl.

  “It might,” she replied.

  The wind was picking up outside, so strong that she could almost feel the house shuddering around her. Dean took his breakfast into the living room, and Alice followed along behind him. They ate in silence, surrounded by the wide windows. She didn’t pay any attention to the movie he turned on. She only stared out into the gray day, up at the heavy sky.

  It’s going to happen.

  “All right,” Dean said suddenly. “Going to get my game on.”

  “Why?” Alice asked. “What if it starts snowing?”

  “Don’t care. Come get me when it hits eight inches.”

  She tried to convince him, but he wasn’t hearing it. She let him go and stared at the screen for a minute. It was a movie she’d seen a dozen times already, but she didn’t feel like changi
ng it to something else. It was cold in there, colder than most of the house, so she wrapped herself up in a throw and sank down into the couch. After the last two restless nights, it felt good to finally relax, and if she closed her eyes, she could easily imagine she was back in the old house.

  Back home…

  No. Home was gone.

  The snow’s coming. And then, after that…

  * * *

  “Alice!”

  Confusion. The day outside too bright.

  I’m in bed.…

  No, not in bed, on the couch, the same place where she drifted off. Dean stood at the edge of the couch, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking out the window.

  “Alice, wake up!”

  Excitement in his voice. A strange sound. A forgotten sound. She sat up and blinked once, twice. Then she saw it.

  “Holy crap!”

  The ground was already mostly white, and the air was so thick with fat snowflakes that she could hardly see the woods.

  “I’ll be damned,” Dean said as he sprang past her toward the sliding glass door. He wrenched it open, and the wind raced inside so quickly that it reminded Alice of sci-fi movies where someone opens a door into space. The cold wind hit her with a whoosh that blew back the throw blanket. It was terribly cold, and both of them were barefoot, but they didn’t care. Even a fifteen-year-old could still be excited by snow, and so they ran outside, leaving bare footprints on the white concrete.

  “I can’t believe how fast it’s coming down,” Dean said as the snow coated his shirt.

  Alice was beaming. “Holy shit!” she yelled out into the blizzard. Dean turned to her, his eyebrows cocked, a sneaky grin on his face.

  “Holy fuck!” he yelled back. They stood out there, taking it all in as long as they could before they felt like their toes had turned to ice.

  Dean cocked his head and held a finger to his mouth.

  “Shh…you hear that?” he asked.

  “Hear w-what?” she asked through her chattering teeth.

  Dean stared out into the woods beyond the fence, and Alice did the same. There it was that familiar, creaking sound of bare tree trunks rubbing against each other. It was a grotesque sound, like a room full of empty rocking chairs moving by themselves.

  “Th-the t-t-trees…” she added.

  Dean stared for a moment longer. “Maybe,” he said finally.

  The two of them ran back inside, chased by a plume of fresh snow that blew through the open door. They were both giggling once they slammed the door behind them, their frozen toes wet on the doormat.

  “Holy shit,” Dean repeated.

  “I know,” Alice replied, feeling giddy with the snow and the parent-free house. “It’s…fucking crazy.”

  Dean doubled over in laughter as he locked the door behind them. “Damn, we need to get Mom and Dad to leave us home alone more often.”

  They walked into the kitchen, and Dean, as always, raided the fridge. “Hope Mom’s going to the store. There’s nothing to eat.”

  “When are they going to be home?” she asked, suddenly aware of how freakishly quiet the house was. Usually, there were voices, footsteps, and the ever-present sound of electronics squawking in every room.

  “I dunno,” he said, pulling out a plastic tub of sliced turkey and eating it straight from the pack. “With all this, they better get home soon, or they might be spending the night at work.”

  Alice saw from the clock over the stove that it was already after ten.

  How did I sleep that long?

  “You should call her,” Alice said.

  “Why?” Dean asked with food in his mouth.

  The correct answer – the proper answer – was, because Alice wanted to make sure her parents were okay. The honest answer was, because Alice could already imagine being snowed in without any parents around. All that darkness, combined with the knowledge that there might not be a way out, was more than she wanted to consider.

  “To make sure she goes to the store,” Alice said in a moment of inspiration.

  “All right.” Dean drew out his cell phone.

  As Dean dialed their mother, Alice walked into the living room. Snow was drifting around the pool, and already there were several inches pressed up against the glass doors.

  “Yeah,” Dean said in the kitchen, talking through a mouth full of food. “Are you kidding me? Yes, I’m keeping an eye on her.”

  Even with the talking, Alice could hear the house breathing deeper now. It was wind. It was always wind, but it felt too strong. Too purposeful. A strong gust blew across the roof, and it brought with it a rattling sound overhead.

  Sounds like footsteps.

  Nonsense.

  Dean was just stirring up her imagination, the way he kept staring into the woods, as if he were suspicious of the trees. Something vibrated and clanked, and Alice looked up to see a picture frame dancing and jittering on the wall above the entertainment center.

  Not your imagination.

  Maybe not. But it was still just wind, just the house responding to the weather. Suddenly, the sound stopped, and Alice was aware of the fact that she was holding her breath.

  “Hang on,” Dean said, sounding annoyed from the other room. He stomped in and handed Alice his phone.

  “Here,” he said, “calm your momma down.”

  “Hello?” Alice said.

  “Hey, baby,” Debra replied. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It got crazy out there.”

  “You’re telling me,” Debra said. “I’m really hoping I don’t get stuck in this mess. Traffic is already a nightmare. I’m leaving work now, but I still need to run by the store.”

  “Milk and bread?” Alice asked, grinning.

  “Something like that. You two stay put, and I’ll be there soon.”

  “Mom?”

  “What is it, sweetie?”

  “Is…Dad coming home?”

  Debra sighed. “He’s good. He’s heading home too.” She paused, seemingly considering how far to go. “He might be there before me…so we’ll see.”

  “All right. I’ll see you soon,” Alice said. “Love you.”

  “Love you too. Put your brother back on.”

  Alice sighed. “Fine.”

  She handed the phone back to Dean and listened as he got the same message. He drifted out of the room, giving his mom the usual series of Yes…No…Yes….

  Once she was alone again, Alice dropped onto the couch and picked up the remote. She didn’t want to watch anything, but she needed noise, needed distraction. Just something to cut the unbroken tension of being in this house without parents. She hit the power button. Hit it again. Then she slapped it against her hand and hit it a third time.

  Nothing.

  Alice walked into the kitchen and tried flipping on the light.

  Nothing.

  The fridge had been on earlier. She’d seen the light, so she knew it was working, but when she opened up the door, it contained nothing but more darkness. Alice gasped, and the house creaked in response, the sound like a cold, guttural laugh.

  No power, she thought as she dashed from the room, chasing Dean down.

  “The power is out!”

  “Are you shitting me?” Dean said, cupping his hand over the phone. “Mom, the power is out.”

  He squinted, listening as she spoke. Then he sighed the way that only teenagers could, summoning all of the annoyance in his body.

  “Fine,” he said. “Love you too.”

  “Are you sure it’s out?” he asked after ending the call.

  Alice followed him through the house, trying lights, remotes, and finally, the fridge.

  “Dammit!” he said. “I almost just went over to Max’s house. Now I’m stuck here all day with jack shit to do.”r />
  The house creaked and moaned, and Alice stared up toward the ceiling.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  Dean stared up as well, but when he spoke, the confidence had drained from his voice. “Wind.”

  “What should we do?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, retreating back to his room. “I’m taking a nap.”

  “What?” Alice asked. It was almost as if the last twenty-four hours hadn’t happened at all. Her old brother, the lazy, sullen teenager had returned, replacing the sweet guy who let her cry on his shoulder.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “I’m bored. There’s nothing going on. We might as well just chill and wait for the power to come back on.”

  “What if it doesn’t come back on?” she asked, following him. “Shouldn’t we get some candles or flashlights?”

  They passed a pile of boxes in the hallway, still unpacked. He pointed at the stack. “Go nuts. Good luck actually finding anything.”

  “What about…the painting?”

  He rolled his eyes and continued back to his room without a word.

  “How can you be so…so…?”

  “So, what?” he asked as he walked away.

  “So like this?”

  “I don’t know!” he said, turning on her suddenly. “You expect me to have answers, and I’m really sorry to disappoint you. But I don’t. I don’t.”

  There was a familiar glare in his eyes, but it wasn’t until that moment that Alice realized what exactly she was seeing.

  He’s afraid.

  There was no denying it. He’d been avoiding the situation, but not because he didn’t care. Dean was, quite simply, terrified, and this was his attempt to hide it. While her instincts told her to track down the truth, Dean stayed true to form, taking the path of least resistance.

  “I just want to chill out,” he added. “I don’t want to think about all this shit, okay? Mom will be home soon, and everything will be fine.”

  The two of them turned the corner, Alice nipping at his heels like a tiny dog, both pretending not to see the crude family portrait when they walked past it. It was the same as before, the thick, black lines, the unfortunate X over the family pet. Alice wanted to stop, to study it, to puzzle out what exactly was going on, but she didn’t dare, not by herself. She wanted Dean to jump in with her, to create a plan, to help her find a way to make it all make sense. There was an answer, there had to be, but she didn’t think she could find it alone. Dean’s pace quickened, and he refused to so much as glance at it.