Fall of the House of Crain

by Cindy Winget

  They all took a moment to catch their breath. As her heaving lungs began to slow, Theo glanced over to the solitary tree in the driveway. Eleanor’s black roadster was wrapped around it in a hunk of twisted metal and broken glass. “Oh, Eleanor,” she cried. “I’m so sorry!”

  Luke wrapped his arms around her as sobs wracked her body. She felt like her heart was being squeezed. Although she realistically knew that Eleanor’s death was not her fault, she had a hard time convincing herself of that. Would she forever be haunted by the memory of this moment like she was the day her brother died?

  When she had calmed down a bit, Luke led her toward his cream-colored coup. Theo wiped at her eyes and glanced back over her shoulder one last time, looking at the accident that had taken Eleanor too soon. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Dr. Montague handed Luke two envelopes. “Your payments,” he said. “I’m sorry that things ended this way.”

  “I guess you found what you were looking for,” said Luke.

  Dr. Montague gave him a sad smile, climbed into his motorcar, and sped out of the driveway, his tires spitting gravel out behind him as he went. Theo vaguely dwelled on the fact that she would likely never see him again.

  Luke handed Theo her money and she climbed inside his car. Two hours later, they arrived at the police station and let them know that there had been an accident up at Hill House.

  Epilogue

  Nine months later

  “Coming!” Theo called as she took one last look in the mirror.

  She stepped into her black Mary Jane pumps and went to open the front door. There stood Luke, looking handsome in baggy white trousers, a blue V-neck sweater, and patent leather shoes. He wore a flat wool driving cap.

  “Where are you taking me tonight? The latest speakeasy?”

  “Nah. Been there. Done that. I’m not in the mood for hooch and partying tonight. I want to take you somewhere special.”

  Theo smiled as Claire came walking down the hall.

  “Do I finally get to meet this mystery fella of yours?” asked Claire.

  “Luke,” said Theo, “this is my roommate, Claire.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Claire looked Luke up and down and nodded her approval. “And I, you,” she replied.

  “Well, should we get out of here?” Luke extended his arm.

  Theo hooked her arm in the crook of Luke’s elbow, and they stepped into the hallway of her apartment building and took the elevator down to the lobby. She let go only when she had to get into his coup, and they headed for the hills. Luke’s ‘somewhere special’ was to take her on a picnic to a wooded spot where you could see the entire city.

  “This is the bees-knees!” exclaimed Theo.

  “I’m glad you approve. Seeing how it’s our six-month anniversary, I thought I would do something extra special,” he explained. He withdrew a small box from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “This is for you,” he said, his face turning red.

  Theo gasped in appreciation as she opened the box to reveal a silver necklace with her birthstone. “I love it!” she squealed. She gave him a sidelong glance, “You did pay for this with your own clams, didn’t you? No stealing pocket change from your aunt.”

  Luke laughed. “No, No. I paid for it myself, I promise.”

  “That new job of yours must be paying well,” Theo said.

  “It’s all because of you, Theo. You make me a better person. You know, terrible as it was at Hill House, I’ll always be grateful because it brought me you. The experience taught me that I have value and that I could be useful to others.” Luke took her hand and kissed it.

  Theo sobered at this. She hadn’t told anyone about her experience at Hill House, not even Claire. She tried not to dwell on her time spent there, but she thought of Eleanor often. Theo would forever be grateful for her help in defeating Hill House. She prayed that because the house had been destroyed, Eleanor’s soul, along with Valdemar’s, was at least free to travel to the next life. If not, she tried to take solace in the fact that Eleanor would remain in a place that she claimed to have loved.

  She often wondered what Eleanor’s life would have been like had she lived. Eleanor had led such a tragic life, and for it to end like that…Theo gave a slight shake of her head. and tried to think of happier things.

  Like the time she had spent with Luke. She had always told herself that she was too free-spirited and independent to let a man into her life, especially considering the cynical way she had viewed the male species as a whole. She had felt that a modern woman should make her own way in the world and not rely upon some man.

  She felt differently now. Luke was kind and thoughtful, and she loved being with him. Instead of holding her back, like she thought he would, he had always lifted her up to new heights, pointing out insights about herself that she could develop and use to grow.

  As Theo lay on the checkered blanket, her fingers intertwined with Luke’s, gazing out across the city, she couldn’t help but think that despite the tragic end that had come from her time spent at Hill House, she had at least walked away knowing that it was possible that her dear brother was still out there somewhere, perhaps even witnessing this moment of happiness.

  Taking great comfort from these thoughts, Theo was determined to move on with her life and not look back.

  * * *

  “No!”

  Dr. Montague sat up in bed with a yell and placed his head in his hands, waiting for the horrific images to fade. He wiped at his sweaty forehead with a trembling hand. Would he always be plagued by Hill House? Was he doomed to find Valdemar waiting for him in his dreams every night?

  Sometimes he thought about returning to Hill House and trying to uncover the body of Valdemar. Bury his friend properly. But truth be told, he was scared to return. Too afraid of what the property may do to him. Would he finally be driven insane? Even more so than he had been? Would he become trapped, never able to leave that cursed land? What horrible memories would the place force him to relive?

  No. Things were better left as they were. The rubble was too extensive, and the authorities would never understand that he was innocent of any wrongdoing. Hill House would forever hold his secret and he would go to his grave without ever telling a soul what had happened. Other than Theo and Luke, of course, who had each promised to leave it to him to decide what was best.

  Was he not entitled to some happiness? Would this one mistake, albeit a big one, be enough to relegate him to a life of solitude and endless woe?

  Looking at the clock, he was amazed to see that it was nearly six o’clock in the morning. It felt like the middle of the night. Seeing no point in staying in bed, Dr. Montague threw the covers off and got up. After a quick shower, he dressed and headed for the kitchen.

  As he sipped at his black coffee and read the newspaper, his mind wandered to Annabel, as it often had since leaving Hill House. He wondered what she was doing, if she was happy. Had she found solace in the fact that ghosts were real? Did it give her hope that their son was not lost forever?

  He had thought about calling her more than a dozen times but doubted that she would want to talk to him.

  Just then, the telephone rang. Dr. Montague stood from the table and picked up the receiver. After the operator connected the call he said, “Hello?”

  “Hello, John.”

  He was amazed to hear the voice on the other end. “Annabel?”

  “I was wondering if you were free for dinner Friday?”

  “Dinner?” He was having a hard time wrapping his brain around this new development. Was she asking him out on a date? He knew that women these days had begun to act in ways different than what they had previously, but it still struck him as strange.

  “What is this about?” he asked.

  “Does it have to be about something? Can’t I just want to see you?”

  Dr. Montague swallowed in a dry throat. “Yes, of course. Where and when?’

  “This Friday. Sev
en o’clock. The Union Oyster House.”

  The Oyster House? That was the restaurant where they had spent their first date. “Alright. I’ll meet you there.”

  He hung up the phone and went to rinse out his mug. Perhaps Valdemar had been right. Maybe Annabel hadn’t left because of him. Maybe it truly was because losing a child was painful and she couldn’t deal with it.

  With a new spring in his step, Dr. Montague decided to take a walk in the park. Perhaps he should pick up a bouquet of flowers before Friday night. Or was that going too far?

  Was this even something that he wanted? If you had asked him that question before the events of Hill House, he would have said no. But now…seeing her there, the protectiveness he had felt, the jealousy when she had spoken to Harry Houdini, convinced him otherwise.

  He did deserve some happiness, he decided. And Annabel had a lot to do with what would make him happy. He would try and forget about Hill House. He would be more open and loving with Annabel than he had previously been. He would not shy away from talking about Peter. He would be there for Annabel in any way that she needed. He would open his heart to new possibilities and let life take him where it would.

  When Friday night arrived, he walked down to the corner store and bought a bouquet of lilies, Annabel’s favorite flower. Not wishing to drive, he took the trolly instead, tipping his hat to everyone he met. Upon walking into the restaurant, he gave his name to the hostess who called over a waitress. She brought him to a corner booth where Annabel already waited for him.

  As the waitress shifted her weight, he noticed that she was not alone. An older, white-haired gentleman with spectacles and a short beard sat next to her. The smile slid from his face as he sat, and the waitress handed him a menu.

  “Thanks for coming, John,” said Annabel, looking pretty in a blue wraparound dress and matching cloche hat. “This is my dear friend, Tom Nichols.”

  Tom held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Dr. Montague reluctantly shook his hand, letting go as soon as was deemed polite.

  “Are those for me?” Annabel indicated the bouquet of flowers gripped tightly in his hand.

  “Oh…yes. They are.” He awkwardly handed them to her, his face going red as he glanced quickly at Tom.

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” She took a sniff of the blossoms before setting them down on the table. She looked at Tom and her friendly manner suddenly cooled, her eyes turning serious.

  “I have ulterior motives for asking you to meet with me today. I hope you didn’t think…” Her gaze settled on the lilies.

  “No,” said Dr. Montague quickly. “I didn’t expect anything. I just knew you like lilies and…I mean…I just thought you would like them,” he finished lamely.

  “I do.” She doodled invisible shapes with her fingertip upon the tablecloth. “I think we need to talk, John. About what happened at Hill House.”

  That was the last thing he wanted to do, especially with a stranger listening in. “What is there to say about it, really? What’s done is done.”

  “What happened to Valdemar? Truly?” she asked.

  Thrown by the question he sputtered, “V-Valdemar?”

  “I know he didn’t really leave.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “To be honest. I talked to Theo. I called her two months ago to see how she was doing since the events of Hill House and she alluded to the fact. I couldn’t get any details out of her, but I got the sense that something bad had happened to Valdemar while staying at Hill House.”

  Dr. Montague gritted his teeth. How dare Theo say anything to Annabel! It was none of her business!

  “Please, John,” said Annabel, placing her hand over his clenched fist upon the table. “Tell me what happened. I’m not here to judge. Theo is concerned about you.”

  “She need not be. I’m fine,” Dr. Montague attested.

  “I don’t think so. When I think back on how you have acted since Valdemar ‘left’ I realize now how not fine you really are,” insisted Annabel.

  “What’ll you have?” asked a woman’s voice.

  Dr. Montague blinked at the waitress, trying to wrap his brain around what she had asked.

  “Three coffees please,” said Tom.

  “What’s he doing here?” Dr. Montague growled, inclining his head in Tom’s direction as the waitress walked away.

  “Dr. Nichols is a psychologist,” said Annabel. “One of the best. I want you to talk to him.”

  Dr. Montague folded his arms and refused to say a word.

  “I have all night, ya know,” said Tom. “And I guarantee I’m at least as stubborn as you.”

  He had murdered his friend. He tried to tell himself that the man was already dead by the time those events had taken place, but it did little to comfort him. Maybe he should talk to this man. Maybe if he got it all out, he would finally get rid of the bad dreams. Although Luke and Theo knowing about it seemed to have done little good. But this man was a professional. Would it be any different?

  “I’ll give you five minutes,” he said grudgingly.

  “That’s all I ask for,” assured Dr. Nichols.

  The waitress returned with their coffees. “Anything else?” she asked.

  “No. We’re fine for right now,” Dr. Nichols told her. Turning his attention back to Dr. Montague, he said, “Let’s start at the beginning. Why did you want to travel to Hill House? What was your purpose there?”

  “To prove the existence of ghosts.” If he thought these words would shock the man, he was sorely disappointed.

  “Go on,” was all Dr. Nichols said.

  So he did. He told the doctor about his assistants he had hired, about inviting Valdemar to tag along, about calling Annabel when things seemed to be getting out of hand. He explained about all the supernatural phenomenon they had experienced in the house. When he got to the part where he mesmerized Valdemar, he had to stop. Emotion welled up, thickening his throat, and he found it difficult to speak.

  “This next part may seem fantastical. I hardly believe it myself,” he said.

  “I’m listening,” said Dr. Nichols, steepling his fingers together upon the white tablecloth in front of him. “I’m not here to judge.”

  Dr. Montague nodded. He explained about Valdemar being dead and yet still able to walk and speak. “He was undead, I tell you!”

  “What happened next?”

  He went on to explain about his attempt to unmesmerize him and how it went terribly wrong. “So I hid his body beneath the floorboards and told everyone that he had left,” Dr. Montague concluded.

  “I see. Well, you obviously can’t let go of what you did. Why do you think that is? Guilt?”

  Dr. Montague nodded. “In part. While at Hill House I felt only marginally guilty about bludgeoning Valdemar and hiding his body. It was as though the house wouldn’t allow me to feel too deeply or appropriately about what I had done.” He looked away. “But once I had left, it was like a wave of grief hit me. More strongly and powerfully than I would have thought possible.”

  He swallowed in a dry throat. His friend was gone. That was an inescapable fact. How had he not bothered to realize it?

  “I couldn’t properly mourn the death of my friend,” he told Dr. Nichols. “Not until I had been freed from Hill House’s influence. Then it was like I felt everything all at once. My best friend in the world is forever out of reach and it’s my fault.” There was some argument that it was the tuberculosis that had killed him, but that isn’t how he felt. “I shouldn’t have mesmerized Valdemar in the first place. I know that now. But I can’t take it back, as much as I wish I could.” Tears dripped from Dr. Montague’s eyes and left wet spots on the tablecloth.

  “I wish to meet with you twice a week,” said Dr. Nichols.

  “What?” Dr. Montague looked up.

  “I think you would benefit by talking this out more,” Dr. Nichols told him.

  “What more is there to say?”
/>   “You’d be surprised. You’ve suffered a trauma. That sort of thing doesn’t just go away.”

  “Alright,” Dr. Montague said in defeat, bowing his head. “If you truly think it will help, I’m willing to give it a try.”

  “Good. Here is my card.” After he took the card, Dr. Nichols, along with Annabel, stood and left the restaurant, leaving Dr. Montague with his thoughts as he lifted the coffee to his lips.

  * * *

  Dr. Nichols left the cell, locking the door behind him. He peeked in at Dr. Montague through the barred window—who was sipping at his imaginary coffee and fingering the fake flowers he always gave to his ex-wife—before turning to Annabel.

  “That went rather well,” Dr. Nichols told her. “We had a breakthrough.”

  “Yes. Much better than the last few attempts to get him to talk about the incident,” agreed Annabel.

  “Same time next week?”

  “Yes,” said Annabel. “Thank you again, Dr. Nichols, for agreeing to help me. I really think he will benefit from your treatment.”

  “Think nothing of it,” said Dr. Nichols. “Penbrooke Asylum is the best place for a man with delusions such as these.”

  “Oh, they aren’t delusions. Hill House was truly haunted. I saw that with my own eyes,” said Annabel. “I just think that the death of his friend has affected him in such a way that he can’t get past it.”

  “Did you see ‘with your own eyes’ that Ernest Valdemar was an undead being?” asked Dr. Nichols.

  “Well…no.”

  “But you believe that he was, in fact, undead at the time of his death?”

  “It seems unlikely, but given what else I saw…”

  “With all due respect, miss, I can’t verify the supposed ‘haunting’ of Hill House, but what I can confirm is that this man is very mentally ill.”

  “Do you believe that John murdered his friend in cold blood?” gasped Annabel.

  “All I can say for certain, is that John believes otherwise. Though in my professional opinion, it speaks volumes that John would assume Ernest was already ‘dead’ before killing him. His guilt could be such that no other explanation would appease his sick mind.”