The Haunting of the Creole House

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The Haunting of the Creole House Page 4

by Blake Croft


  “I’ll have my PA send you my bill.” Dr. Hurst touched her arm.

  She led him outside. The air was fresh and full of opportunity out on the porch. She watched as Dr. Hurst headed towards his car and got in. She knew what needed to be done; make peace with Richard and assume a more submissive role, but it made her grit her teeth just thinking about it.

  It felt good out here on the porch, but the house loomed behind her and all the people she was responsible for inside it.

  She wanted to run away, be young and free again. But duty called, so she turned back to the house and went inside.

  Chapter Eight

  — ∞ —

  June 15th – 12:01PM

  Lakeshore Drive, Mandeville – Louisiana

  “F or God’s sake, Dave!”

  Abbie just about managed to hold on to the casserole dish and retain her balance. Dave backed up a little but not enough to provide Abbie room to move around. It was boiling hot in the kitchen, and Abbie was already annoyed. Dave looked worse than usual. His face had a haunted quality, and his eyes kept darting around to the corners of the room. Abbie’s heart would have gone out to him at any other time, but she was exhausted by the temporary move, the unpacking, and lack of sleep from being woken every night by Dave.

  She was mentally exhausted because she knew the whole thing had been an unnecessary mistake, and doubly annoyed that Richard refused to accept that. Now Richard was in the study, his injured foot propped up on the desk, and Abbie was trying to get lunch in the oven.

  “Mom! Mom!” Aiden came skidding into the kitchen, his hair matted to his forehead from sweat. “Look at what I did! I taught Maurice our song!”

  Abbie grimaced at the sight of the filthy bear, hoping it would pass off as an encouraging smile. She really didn’t have time for any of this. These same kids getting in her way right now would be the ones complaining loudly if lunch wasn’t ready in time.

  “Go on, Maurice. Sing.”

  Dave clutched Abbie’s hand in a tight grip.

  The bear remained silent, its tatty face blank yet giving the expression of mild curiosity.

  “Bumble, bumble, my busy bee,” Aiden prompted. “Go on, you know it.”

  Nothing.

  “Buzzing around, The mulberry tree. From hither to tither, from blossom to bush, making up honey, for... Go on, Maurice... Mummy and me,” Aiden continued.

  Still nothing.

  “He sang it a minute ago.” Aiden pouted. “Maybe he’s shy.”

  Dave let go of Abbie’s arm, and even stepped away from her, giving her much needed space to access the draining board.

  “That’s a shame, Aid.” Abbie was distracted. “Why don’t you go in the living room and try again.”

  She didn’t know when the children slipped out of the room. She peeled and chopped vegetables, and set them in a bowl for later, her mind on the pointlessness of this house and this retreat. She finished seasoning the chicken, and washed her hands while the oil got hot enough to fry the poultry in. She dried her hands idly on a kitchen towel, her gaze wandering to the blue sky and sea beyond the kitchen window.

  Her hands stilled.

  A woman stood on the beach staring directly at the house. Abbie would have taken no notice of her, there being some people on the beach throughout the day, had she not recognized the fuchsia headdress and the robust figure.

  Doralise tilted her head down. Their eyes met across the distance, and Abbie was suddenly certain that this was no coincidence. Doralise had come here with the intention of meeting Abbie.

  She was surprised by her own anger. Abbie hadn’t marked Doralise as a typical con artist trying to hustle a few dollars out of honest working people, but apparently she was wrong. It all made sense now, asking to see Abbie’s hand, then making a great show of fear and anxiety and refusing to tell her what she had seen. So when she saw Abbie next, the mark would be primed to pay anything for the information.

  Well, if that’s what she thinks, she has another think coming. Abbie threw the paper towel down in the sink, and made to storm out of the back door to the beach and confront the woman.

  Frantic screams from inside the house stopped her in her tracks. She rushed up the stairs, ignoring Richard as he came out of the study to demand what was going on. The screams got more high pitched and desperate as the seconds went by, like the howls of a trapped and injured animal. Abbie ran faster, her heart in her throat, images of blood and her injured children racing before her eyes.

  The children’s room was pristine, no toy out of place, no bed unmade. Yet the sight of David cowering against the wall, his fingers clawing at the plaster as if he could dig his way out of whatever nightmare was in front of his vision, lent the room an absurd perversity, as if chaos lurked under the pretense of order.

  “It’s only a closet, Dave.” Aiden was standing next to the closet, holding its doors open, teddy set on the floor beside his feet. “It won’t hurt you.”

  “No!” Dave howled. “Shut it! Please, close it! Aiden, please!” Dave pleaded, tears and snot running down his mouth and chin.

  “You’re being silly, Dave,” Aiden insisted, making no move to close the closet. “Look, I’ll go inside it to show you that it’s safe.”

  “No! NO!” Dave’s screams got worse as Aiden made to step inside the dark closet.

  Abbie had seen enough. She marched into the room, hauled Aiden out by an arm, and she slammed the closet shut.

  It was like turning off a switch. Dave instantly quieted, deflating like a balloon. He lay slumped by the wall, all the energy drained out from his small body. For a moment Abbie was afraid that he had fainted, but his eyes were blinking even though they were unfocused.

  “What do you think you were doing?” Abbie rounded on Aiden who shrank back from the fury in his mother’s face.

  “He was being silly,” Aiden protested.

  “He was petrified,” Abbie snapped. “And you just stood there making it worse for him.”

  “I was trying to help him see…”

  “You were taking revenge because Dave wouldn’t play with you. I’m very disappointed in you, Aiden. I thought you were better than this petty behavior.”

  “That’s not what I was doing.” Aiden stomped his foot, his lips pouting in frustration, and tears brimming in his eyes.

  “Well, I don’t believe you,” Abbie said unkindly. “And I can see that my saying that has upset you, but I’m not going to take it back because I want you to know how Dave felt.”

  “It’s not fair!” Aiden stomped his foot again, making Abbie grit her teeth.

  “That’s it. You want to know what unfair is? Fine. You’re grounded. You will eat your lunch and dinner in your room, and can’t leave till your punishment is over. No dessert.”

  Aiden didn’t say anything, knowing him protesting would only make things worse, but the look of absolute dislike he gave to Abbie was cutting. Yet Abbie knew the pitfalls of motherhood. You weren’t here to be friends with your children. You were here to provide care, discipline and structure to their lives. So Aiden hated her at the moment, well tough, she’d just have to live with it till he got over it.

  She turned her back on her youngest son, and knelt down to where Dave lay in an exhausted heap. She was disappointed, but not surprised that Richard hadn’t come up to see what was going on, or provide a helping hand. Actual parenting wasn’t his forte, and when he had been bitten by the writing bug nothing else mattered as much.

  “Hey, buddy.” Abbie brushed Dave’s sweat soaked hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  Dave didn’t answer, just nodded his head slightly.

  “Why don’t you get in bed and get some rest. I’ll bring your lunch up.”

  Dave shook his head frantically.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your bed…. Please…”

  Abbie pursed her lips. She knew Richard wouldn’t like Dave sharing their bed, but then she dismissed Richard’s feelings out of hand
. She had told him this place wasn’t good for Dave. She had warned him it would get worse. She had suggested an alternative plan, but Richard hadn’t allowed her to do anything concrete to help her son. Well, he better get used to sharing his bed with a ten year old, because if that was the only thing that would bring comfort to Dave then that was what Abbie would do.

  “Of course. Come on, I’ll help you up. A little sleep, a little food, and you’ll be as good as new.”

  She helped Dave get up on his feet and then guided him out of the room. She knew Aiden was staring at her back, willing her to look back at his tear stained face, to see him miserable and melt. But she didn’t look back. She shut the door on him.

  Chapter Nine

  — ∞ —

  June 16th – 1:03 AM

  Lakeshore Drive, Mandeville – Louisiana

  T he room was dark but for a single beam of light that illuminated the cards table. Richard had only three poker chips left. His hand itched to reach across the table and snag some of Lemmy’s, but his guards were watching, tall men with Mastiff heads.

  “What have you got, Richard?”

  He froze. Abbie was standing at his shoulder, a long knife in her hand.

  “Abbie, I can explain,” Richard stammered.

  “Don’t explain it to me.” Abbie’s smile was feral. “Explain it to your friends.”

  Lemmy’s throat was slit from ear to ear. His guard’s heads were torn off and nailed to the wall, their sad Mastiff eyes staring forward. On their stumps were the face of Dave and Aiden, blood tickling out of their mouths and ears.

  His eyes flew open suddenly, his body jerking as it was wrenched out of sleep. He breathed deeply once, and twice, his eyes darting frantically over the unfamiliar room. The room was dark. The only light was a faint beam of waning moonlight that illuminated two other sleeping figures in the same bed as him. A box of Kirkland Sleep Aid was on Abbie’s bedside table with a half drunk glass of water. Dave slept between them, his head resting against Abbie’s back.

  Richard’s sleep addled brain wondered what had been the point of planing the children’s bedroom door if David was going to sleep with them.

  The sound of the lake and the wind was soothing music. Richard’s eyes were heavy with sleep when he heard the noise.

  It was a short, sharp cry from down the hall, as if someone had been pinched briefly, or been pricked suddenly with a sharp needle. Richard shifted his position and met a wall of arms and legs. Dave was limiting his movement.

  Someone was whimpering in the children’s room.

  Aiden.

  Richard sighed. He made to get out of bed, but he collapsed back against the pillow, scratching his belly. Sleep was coming in a like a tide at sundown. The kid had probably woken up in the dark and found out he was alone in the room.

  Great, another kid afraid of the dark and wanting my bed, Richard thought. He extended an arm and nudged Abbie. She grunted.

  “Check on Aiden. He’s awake.” Richard yawned.

  Abbie shifted in bed. “Wha-?”

  Richard flipped his pillow to get the cooler side. The bed creaked as Abbie shifted some more. Richard slunk into deeper sleep, snoring lightly. Abbie turned her cheek on her pillow, Dave’s head nestling underneath her chin.

  He faintly heard her murmur “Hmm.Whaa…?” but was fast asleep so was unaware that Abbie had gone back to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  — ∞ —

  June 16th – 8:12 AM

  Lakeshore Drive, Mandeville – Louisiana

  D ave and Aiden ran up the stairs. Aiden was wearing navy sailor shorts and a large white shirt that was nothing like Dave had ever seen. He held the teddy, good as new, in one arm. His eyes were wide and his lips white with fright. Dave couldn’t see what Aiden was so frightened of. The way Aiden clutched the teddy tight to his chest, and the way his limbs fidgeted hasten Dave’s pulse. He knew something bad was coming after them.

  “Come!” an urgent whisper drifted down the stairs. “Come fast!”

  Dave and Aiden jumped. They looked at each other, and Dave nodded encouragement with a trembling chin. They followed the voice up the stairs.

  “Hurry, come hide,” the voice called again, petulant and wheedling but louder. It didn’t sound like an adult, and part of Dave was repulsed by the whiney tone of the voice. He distrusted it.

  He followed Aiden inside their room.

  The closet door was ajar.

  “Get in. Hurry! There is no time.”

  Clothes flickered, and the hangers struck each other with soft thuds.

  Aiden rushed forward, but Dave didn’t move.

  There were two boys already in there. Their faces were mashed pulps of blood. Aiden sat beside one of the dead boys. “Come on, Dave!”

  Dave made to go back, but the sound of heavy footsteps and the slow dragging of an iron pipe down the hall stopped him in his tracks.

  She was coming.

  Dave was caught between a rock and a hard place. Unable to make a choice, he froze. Except his eyes; they moved frantically from the room’s door to the closet. When the steps reached the door, he got panic-stricken, and joined Aiden in the closet, his shirt getting soaked from the blood that coated the wooden walls.

  The closet door closed as if by invisible hands.

  Only a thin line of light streamed in. Dave held his breath, wishing his heart would stop so it wouldn’t give him away. The bedroom door opened, and the footsteps brought in the pipe. It whistled as it rent the air.

  Dave swallowed. His body shook and perspiration peppered his scalp. He held Aiden’s hand.

  A shadow obscured the thin line of light. Dave closed his eyes and looked away. The door creaked open. Dave could hear someone whimpering. He squeezed Aiden’s hand and realized it wasn’t Aiden’s hand at all. He was holding the teddy bear.

  He opened his eyes. Aiden was gone. The dead boys were turned towards him, watching with their eyeless faces.

  “I told you to never hide from me,” a woman’s voice gurgled as if she were speaking from the depths of a deep pool.

  Dave looked up and screamed. His tiny chest constricted and his bowls loosened. The woman’s eyes were white in her pale haggard face and her hair was a mess of slimy seaweed. She was tall, broad, and terrible.

  “Come with us, Dave. Join your brother. He is very happy with me. I will always keep you happy.”

  Dave screamed again. He scrambled to his feet and tried to run but tripped on her skirts. He extended his hands to break his fall but found himself in bed, the morning sun streaming down on his face through his parent’s bedroom window.

  “Good, you’re up.” Abbie was standing above the bed, still in her pajamas her hair tucked in a bun. “Brush your teeth and come down for breakfast. I’m making pancakes today.”

  Dave felt empty. He knew what the dream meant.

  — § —

  The day was hot and promised to get hotter as it progressed. Abbie was sweating profusely, her shirt drenched and sticking to her back. Pancakes sizzled in one pan, and bacon in the other. Dave sat at the counter whisking some eggs. Abbie touched his hair gently, smiling when he looked up at her, frowning when he looked away.

  She was unsettled, had been since she woke up. She couldn’t put her finger on what was bothering her, but she assumed it was Dave and how he had been acting.

  Richard came into the kitchen a foolish grin on his face, his injured foot hovering slightly above the floor. Abbie clenched her hands into fists. Richard’s buoyant mood grated on her.

  “I’ve struck gold.” Richard winked and poured himself a mug full of coffee. “The first draft is coming along nicely. I can’t wait for Tom to read it.”

  “When do you think you’ll be done by?” Abbie asked, slicing bananas and strawberries.

  “Don’t know yet. Could be two weeks, could be two months. You can’t rush-”

  Abbie slammed the knife down on the counter. Dave jumped and spilled some milk on his shirt.r />
  “Give me an exact date.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Abbie took a deep breath and turned on her heel. She smiled down at Dave.

  “Go watch some TV. Mom and Dad need to talk.”

  Dave jumped off the stool and rushed out.

  “I need a date, Richie.” Abbie folded her arms. “I need to know when we can leave this awful place.”

  “Not this again.” Richard put the mug down. “I told you I can’t put a deadline on my work. It disturbs the process—”

  “I’m not interested in your process. Sure, I’m not a writer, but I’m not blind to what’s happening to my son.”

  “Our son.” Richard took a step forward. “Don’t make it look like I don’t care about him.”

  “If you care, let me take him back home. Let him go back to his friends, his neighbors, and his life.”

  “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you’re being? The only reason I rented this house was so all of us could live here. Now you want to leave. What’s the point of renting such a place if it’s only going to be me?”

  “Then you should have asked for my opinion before you went and paid for the place.”

  The silence was deafening. Abbie knew she had gone too far, but she had been pushed there. Richard’s obtuse optimism and self-centered approach was tolerable in Colorado where Abbie had her own life and freedom of movement. It was agony here, where he willfully turned a deaf ear to her problems.

  “So that’s what’s bothering you.” Richard had a strange gleam in his eyes, and his smile was smug and contemptuous. “You’ve finally come to the point of contention. You hated that I planned this retreat without consulting you. You resented that I did something without asking for permission like a good Mama’s boy. Well, you don’t tell me what to do.”

  Abbie was thrown by Richard’s accusations. Is this what he thought of her; some controlling bitch who liked to keep her family tied to her purse strings?

  “What has gotten into you, Richard? Can’t you see that this isn’t about you? Dave is suffer—”

 

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