The House In the Woods

by Marguerite O'Callaghan

  ‘If you push her, we will let you live, Margaret. If you don’t, then you both go over. Understand? That’s the deal.’

  Barbara can remember the moment when the girl realised what the man had said, and looked right at her. A second later, the man let go of them, Barbara grabbed the girl, and pushed her over as hard as she could. She was light as a feather, and didn’t resist or scream, even on the way down. But, right after she heard her hit the bottom, Barbara screamed. She fell back into the dirt, and clawed and screamed as the seven men laughed and cheered around her.

  ‘You’re one of us now, Margaret. You’ve past the test! That one was retarded, touched by the devil himself, so don’t worry too much.’

  A part of Barbara died that day, and so many times since then, she’d wished that she went over the cliff with the girl. But, an instinct to survive had taken over, and the will to escape the ranch before the same thing happened to her and her sister. Later, she found out that the girl had some sort of disability and she and her mother were picked up by members of the church who found them living in a small trailer at the side of the road. Her mother was very ill, and had tumours in her stomach. She had been extremely worried about who would look after her daughter when she died, and come to the ranch thinking it was the best thing that could ever happen to them, only to be tossed over the quarry edge a few hours later, and her poor daughter sexually assaulted, tortured, and eventually murdered. It was cruelty and evil beyond anything you could imagine.

  Back in the present moment, Barbara struggles to tell the priest what she seeks forgiveness for.

  ‘Father I... a long time ago I was in a very difficult, awful situation and somebody forced me to do something I didn’t want to. It meant that another person got very hurt and I played a role in that. Although I didn’t want to. I was forced.’

  Barbara’s voice starts to break into a cry and the priest tells her to take a moment.

  ‘This was a very long time ago and I was barely even sixteen years old.’

  She starts to weep again, and he leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath.

  ‘You’re sorry that this other person was hurt, aren’t you? You’ve been carrying the guilt around for all these years?’

  Barbara nods through the tears; she really has been carrying it around, and thought about the girl, and what she’d done to her, every single day. Her heart ached to undo the horrors of the past and to save her.

  ‘We cannot change what has already happened, my child, but God sees and heals a loving soul. Go, pray for your sins, and know that your saviour has forgiven you. Say ten Hail Marys every day for a week.’

  And that’s it. Barbara stumbles from the confession box, and makes her way slowly to the top of the church to light a candle for the girl. She never even knew her name. Then, the thought enters her mind again that maybe Kate being taken is pay-back for what she did that day in the quarry. Barbara has spent decades running from her past, but its poison has still found a way to the very thing Barbara loves more than anything; her family.

  7

  Lydia arrives home to be greeted by Molly barking and jumping at the front door. She pops her head into the kitchen to see her dad frying some eggs, but Brian barely acknowledges her in the doorway, and Lydia’s heart sinks. He’s the most visibly broken out of the three of them right now, she thinks. At least she and her mum can hide behind a layer of make-up, but her dad looks like he’s about to keel over and die any second. Brian Stone is a tall man, and always been quite slim, but over the past few months he’s just seemed to fade away, no matter how much he eats. Lydia walks over and rests her head gently on his shoulder.

  ‘I love you, Dad. You’ve taught me that there are good people in the world... and good men, too. I hope you know that.’

  Brian is taken aback by his daughter’s words. He turns to her, smiles, and kisses her on the forehead.

  ‘Thanks for that, love. You know just what to say to make me feel better. How did things go with your mum?’

  Lydia realises that she’s been gone for hours, and her dad must think she and mum were together this whole time. Maybe he’s worried she’ll take her mum’s side, and that’s why he seems off.

  ‘Oh! Sorry... yeah I met her earlier, and then met a friend for a couple of drinks after that, actually.’

  Brian smiles and nods when he hears she’s been drinking, and playfully suggests that’s the reason she’s been so sweet. Lydia laughs with him and takes a seat at the kitchen table.

  ‘Mum’s hiding something, isn’t she?’

  Brian stops what he’s doing and asks what Lydia means.

  ‘Dad, you don’t think she’s hiding something and not telling us? I know you do, because I’ve heard you two arguing at night. I’ve heard you asking her to tell you the truth. That’s why she left, isn’t it?’

  Brian dries his hands with a little yellow towel, pulls out one of the wooden chairs at the table, and sits down across from Lydia. Molly lays at his feet, and he strokes her head.

  ‘You’re right Lyds. I’ve had my suspicions about your mother for a while to be honest, but it wasn’t until Kate went missing that I started to feel the need to know the truth about her. I don’t know why it took this happening to make me ask questions but... I don’t know.’

  Lydia asks what his suspicions are; she has no idea what he means, what ‘truth’ is there to uncover? Brian clears his throat, leans forward, and adjusts his shirt sleeves; procrastinating what he needs to say. He looks at his daughter, and with a gentle voice, explains that he believes her mum is in some sort of witness protection program, and was not born Barbara Kelleher, either. He believes her real name is Margaret. He’s found an old bracelet with Margaret engraved on it, and a few months ago he also came across a photograph of Barbara as a teenager with a few other girls and ‘Margaret’ had been written on the back, along with the names of the others. Every time he had asked her about it, she denied everything, and told him he was being paranoid, but he knew she was keeping something from him, and just couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t tell him the truth. Lydia remembers the day the strange man stood across the road from the house and was shouting for Margaret, and her mother had seemed disturbed by the news when Lydia told her about it. She asks her dad if he thinks that man knew her mum from before she changed her name.

  ‘It’s very possible, darling. If you ever see him again call me, okay? I don’t know who else we could actually ask for answers besides him...’

  Her dad’s brow is furrowed, and he seems frustrated that he doesn’t know more, but Lydia is relieved he’s finally talking to her about what’s going on. She has a sudden thought.

  ‘What about Jane? Surely, she would know if something was going on? She’s Mum’s sister after all. Dad we need to talk to her.’

  Brian explains that he’s already tried with Jane, and she hangs up the phone when he asks about their childhood, who Margaret is, or anything like that. Obviously, Barbara has warned her not to talk.

  ‘Maybe I can try?’ Lydia suggests. She takes out her phone and sends her aunt a message.

  ‘Okay! I’ve asked her to Skype later. She’s already mad at me for not talking to her on my birthday, so she’s almost expecting this.’

  Lydia is actually excited. She picks up one of Molly’s chew toys and starts to play with her. The dog jumps and barks; delighted at the attention. Brian has left the room, but returns a few minutes later and puts the bracelet and photograph on the table for Lydia to take a look at. She stops playing with the dog and strokes her with one hand, while picking the photograph up with the other. It’s marked 1992. That’s six years before she and Kate were born, and three years before Barbara left the United States to come to England.

  ‘Mum’s so young here! Oh my god, she’s beautiful.’

  In the photograph, Barbara is leaning on a wooden fence, her long dark hair is almost to her waist, and she’s wearing a white blouse with some sort of detail in the neckline, and tan-colour
ed shorts. Her skin is very brown, and her smile is wide. She seems genuinely happy, and the other girls alongside her look pretty happy too.

  ‘Any idea who they are?’

  She looks to her dad.

  ‘Nope. School friends maybe… or cousins? Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart. All I know is that ‘Barbara’ is not listed as being on there, and that’s definitely your mother in the picture.’

  Brian taps the photograph gently and shakes his head, but Lydia stares at it resolutely.

  ‘Dad, thanks for telling me. I feel so much better now that I know this stuff. Let’s keep talking, okay? We will find answers. I just know it.’

  8

  Kate didn’t expect things to change as quickly as they have, but within a couple of days of finding out that she’s pregnant, Melvin moves her to a room on the second floor of the farmhouse with a window and double bed. She’ll still be chained, but now has fresh air and daylight. The wonderful smells of nature outside the window actually start to cheer her up, and for the first time, Kate knows that she’s in the countryside; she can hear cows, sheep, the distant sound of tractors, not to mention the constant birdsong that surrounds the house. But, she doesn’t hear any traffic, and thinks this must mean they’re in quite an isolated area.

  Kate had imagined having children one day, maybe when she was in her thirties, but there’s no way she feels ready for anything like that now, at nineteen. But, being in captivity with two psychotic people does things to you, and she actually takes enormous comfort from the little life growing inside her. She starts to sing to her baby; anything she can remember from Disney movies or nursery rhymes, and even starts to make up songs about their future life together. Kate’s world has become pretty small, and when that happens, things start to seem more significant. She starts to notice the detail and rhythm of a day, and without a clock, she learns to tell the time based on the light, the sounds from outside, or meal times in the house. She quickly starts to keep track of the days and weeks; the fact that every Sunday Melvin and Christine go to mass in the village, and Kate estimates that because the journey doesn’t take long, the village must be close, because they’re never gone for more than an hour and a quarter. As far as she knows, it’s the only time that both of them leave the house at the same time, and one of them, usually Melvin, rushes to make sure she’s still there when they return. Kate imagines that attending mass together is an important thing for the couple to do, and it must give a good impression to the other villagers. Some days, Melvin leaves the house for several hours too, and Kate wonders if he works, but is too afraid to ask, and she decides to wait for him to tell her himself, and also considers the possibility that he has friends somewhere, although that seems unlikely…

  Christine is out this evening, and Melvin comes upstairs with Kate’s evening meal on a tray. He seems to be in really good spirits and calls out ‘Room Service!’ as he opens the door. Kate greets him with a smile. She’s learned that the nicer she is to him, the nicer he is in return. He sits at the end of the bed, puts the tray down, then unlocks the chain around her wrists. As he’s doing it, she sees that there are two plates of food on the tray. He must want to stay and eat with her.

  ‘This looks lovely, Melvin. Thank you. I’m hungry today.’

  He seems satisfied with the way things are going, and hands a plate to her. She takes it awkwardly.

  ‘Go ahead.’ he says as he picks up his own plate and starts to eat. Kate hasn’t eaten with another person like this since before she was kidnapped, and it feels like a privilege. She had spent months sleeping on an old mattress on the floor in the basement, and almost lost her mind with hunger, isolation, and lack of stimulation. Having a bed, daylight, and meals on a tray now, feels almost too good now. It’s funny how your perception can change so quickly, and how things that once felt ordinary can feel extraordinary. Kate can’t help but feel close to this man. She relies on him for everything; he decides whether she lives or dies. He and Christine have become a strange mix of captors and evil parents to her. Melvin starts to tell her about life on the ranch in Texas; how many people lived there; how crazy a time it was, and how they had to hide from the law to keep the place secure. They also needed to vet anyone who expressed an interest in joining them; they couldn’t have afforded to allow any spies in, or anyone that would spread lies about them in the outside world. He speaks about the ranch like it was the best place on earth.

  ‘It was huge and beautiful. We had all these horses and cows... My father was the leader of course, and that meant I was one of the most respected of the men folk.’

  Kate looks at Melvin and feels the urge to ask about her mother. He seems to know this.

  ‘You’re wondering about her, and her sister, aren’t you?’

  Kate nods gently and tries to smile at him.

  ‘Only if you want to tell me.’

  She’s learned that being submissive gets the best results when you’re in captivity. Plus, she was good at reading Melvin, and using simple reverse psychology, where she suggests he might want to tell her something more than she wants to know, might just yield the results she longs for; to find out about her mother’s past.

  ‘Margaret arrived when she was sixteen years old and I was eighteen. It was perfect. My father had been having the visions for years before that, and we all knew; every single man, woman, and child, when we laid eyes on her that she was the one who would give birth to my child, and save our souls.’

  Melvin goes on to speak for almost an hour about what happened after Margaret arrived at the ranch. He thought that she would be afforded the same luxuries and treatment that he and his immediate family were. He thought he was going to marry her, and they would love one another, but there were men in the group who were suspicious of women, and they were unsure about whether Margaret was really ‘the one’. They insisted on putting her through a series of tests before she was allowed to marry Melvin, and if she passed, they would agree that she was the chosen woman, and give their blessing for him to take her as his wife. Kate listens as Melvin describes the men. They sound like clan elders to her; older men who advised Melvin’s father, and made all of the laws for the church members. They were misogynists to say the least, believing that the purpose of women was to serve men, and they were cruel to their wives and daughters. They were also involved in lots of other strange rituals that Melvin doesn’t want to tell Kate about, but he says they were very unusual and secretive. When Melvin had asked his father about the men, and how cruel they were, his father explained they were the ones who battled with the dark side, and the evil in the world, so that the rest of them could live in peace. Melvin never really understood that reasoning, but he trusted his father, nonetheless.

  ‘What tests did my mother have to pass, Melvin?’

  Kate hasn’t planned on interrupting him, but she can’t help herself. These men sound awful, and she is terrified about what they might have done to her mother.

  ‘They would go off to do their rituals into the mountains for days, or sometimes longer, and they’d take girls with them. Some were only children really, bless them. I remember their mother’s faces and the screaming and tears when they left. I guess they needed to weed out the weak ones and... well, not all of the girls made it back.’

  Kate is forming a picture in her head. It was obvious that her mother had been taken, raped, and maybe beaten by these men. She was only sixteen years old back then; it must have been devastating. Melvin notices that Kate has started to cry, and looks genuinely concerned.

  ‘You shouldn’t be getting upset like this. It’s not good for the baby. I’m sorry. You take a few deep breaths and I’ll get us both some tea and biscuits, okay?’

  9

  Lydia’s in her room waiting for her aunt to answer the Skype call. When she eventually picks up, Jane looks like she’s been crying, and she looks older too and more serious than Lydia remembers. Lydia wonders what’s going on in Jane’s life; they used to talk all the time
, and the two families would visit one another at least once a year. But when the girls reached their teens, things seemed to change, and these days, Lydia didn’t have a clue what any of the family in Florida were doing, besides what she sees from the occasional photo one of them posts on social media. Lydia hasn’t made any sort of plan about what she’s going to ask Jane about exactly, but she needs some sort of confirmation about her mother’s previous life, and who ‘Margaret’ is. After five or ten minutes chatting about what her cousins are up to, she changes the subject:

  ‘You know Mum has moved out, right?’

  Her aunt nods, and looks genuinely concerned.

  ‘Your dad said, honey, and I’m so sorry. Did she say why?’

  Lydia hesitates. This could be a way in. All she needed was some confirmation that her mum was keeping something from them.

  ‘Well... I think that Dad thinks she’s not telling him everything about her past, you know?’

  Jane moves about in her seat, takes a drink from a carton of juice, then nods her head in understanding.

  ‘Yeah, that must be hard on you, honey.’

  Lydia is irritated already, and feels patronised, but tries to stay calm and casual.

  ‘What do you think about it all, Jane? Do you think Mum is lying to us? Is she protecting us from something?’

  Jane looks away momentarily, as if planning what to say next.

  ‘I’m not sure what’s going on, honey. I don’t like to say, okay? It’s between your mom and dad.’