CHAPTER THREE
The thirty-minute drive to the farm passed in relative silence. Andrew’s music hummed softly through the car’s speakers, a cheerful underscoring that clashed with the unease in the car. Neither of them had been out to the property since arriving. They came in late the night before from Massachusetts and booked a motel, conveniently letting them put off the strangeness of sleeping in a dead man’s home for one more day. Andrew didn’t know what Celeste thought about everything, but he knew for certain she didn’t want to stay in his grandfather’s house for very long.
It had all happened so fast. Andrew got a call one morning while getting ready for work that his grandfather had died in his sleep, and the next thing he knew, he and Celeste were the sole inheritors of his entire estate in Georgia. Of course, calling it an estate was a gross over-exaggeration. Corvus’s property consisted of 153 acres of half-decent farmland, an ancient farmhouse, and a ramshackle old barn that even on its best days ought to be condemned. Andrew had liked his time living with his grandfather, but his property wasn’t the best maintained even back then, and he shuddered to think about the state of it after all the intervening years.
The only child of an only child, Andrew was Corvus’s only surviving descendant. And with the way his father and grandfather fought, Andrew wouldn’t have been surprised if Corvus had left the property to him even if his father were still alive. His dad wasn’t a bad man by any stretch, but he wasn’t a great man either. Andrew’s mother died when he was six, and his father never picked up the slack in her absence. When he passed unexpectedly during his sophomore year, Andrew was sent to live with Corvus.
He learned more about life in the two years he spent with his grandfather than he had learned in the sixteen years he spent with his father. A lot of the lessons were hard to learn that late in life, but they shaped him into the man he was that day, driving toward a property that was undoubtedly littered with reminders of the past. The way Andrew saw it, dwelling on the past only kept you out of the present, and there were too many good things in life to let the bad things take away their beauty.
That philosophy was certainly being tested by this trip.
Andrew just didn’t want to dig up the past. He had learned to enjoy his time in Dry Creek, but it was also the hardest time in his life. He had been recently orphaned and sent away to live with a grandfather that he had only been taught to distrust. It took a long time to adapt to the man’s way of life and to grow to trust and build a relationship with him. He knew that going through Corvus’s property would just force him to relive all the hardships he had tried so hard to forget. Andrew got the feeling that he was going to need that drink from Jax soon.
So there he sat, in a car with the love of his life, driving toward a past that he’d rather leave buried. The silence of his thoughts was only broken when Celeste spoke up to comment on the lack of cell signal.
“Oh yeah,” Andrew replied, eyeing the road ahead. The open fields on the right were in direct contrast to the thick tree-line on the left. “You’re not gonna get any signal the whole rest of the way to the farm. We’re in a massive dead zone, but hopefully, Corvus got wi-fi in his twilight years.”
Celeste cracked a smile at his lame attempt at a joke. “With how old he was, I’ll be surprised if there’s electricity out here.”
“Oh, there’s electricity. But not in the outhouse where you really want it.”
“You’re hilarious,” she said, before growing slightly nervous at his lack of response. “There’s not really an outhouse, is there?”
“Not that I remember. But it would certainly be a step up from the chamber pot I had to use when I lived there.”
Celeste rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t want to do this. Any of it. I didn’t want to bury my grandfather, and I definitely don’t want to have to go through his stuff. It just doesn’t feel fair.”
“Death rarely does,” she said. “But on the bright side, we don’t have to stay very long. All we need to do is clean up the house, figure out what’s worth keeping, and sell the rest to the state. We’ll be here for two weeks, tops.”
Andrew spotted an opening in the thick tree line and slowed down before turning left onto the gravel driveway. The trees seemed to encroach on the road, their gnarled roots spidering out through the dirt and pebbles, adding to the bumpiness of the drive. Thick branches loomed overhead creating a tunnel effect before suddenly opening up, revealing a small field with the farmhouse in the center.
Time had not been kind to the ancient building. The dark wood was dry and cracked in many places, and more paint had peeled off than had stayed on. The windows were all yellow with age and filled with cobwebs. The wraparound porch was piled high with junk. Old farming equipment and moth-bit furniture were all littered across the old porch, with some places having given in from weight and decay. Andrew and Celeste both looked at the house, and then back at each other as he pulled up near the porch.
“So much for two weeks,” Andrew said, trying to get over the shock of just how much Corvus had let the house fall into disrepair. He was scared to see the inside.
“We’re both up to date on our tetanus shots, right?” Celeste asked. Andrew couldn’t decide if she was making a joke or being genuine.
“I don’t think there are shots for what we could catch from that stuff.”
She looked over at him with a look of disbelief. “And you’re still having us sleep here?”
“If it’s safe, yes,” Andrew replied, grimacing at the prospect of sleeping in that house. “We just don’t have the money to live out of a motel for weeks on end. Not when we’re both using vacation time for this.”
“Some vacation.”
The two of them unbuckled and got out of the car, and Andrew went around to the trunk. He pulled it open and was greeted by an impatient meow from their cat, Gracie, who looked up at him with large, unamused eyes. He unlocked her carrier and swung open the door. She took a tentative step out of the carrier and sniffed the air for a moment. Then, ignoring his outstretched hand, she hopped down and wandered off into the overgrown grass. Once there, she found a nice sunbeam and ruffled her fur a bit before flopping down onto her side.
“At least she’ll be happy here,” Celeste mused as she pulled their bags out of the backseat.
Andrew came around the side and took his suitcase from Celeste, and the couple walked up to the house. The floorboards on the porch creaked like they might give out under their weight, but they held firm. Towers of junk loomed over them on either side, threatening to topple under the slightest gust of wind. They approached the front door, which seemed to look down on them disapprovingly. Andrew didn’t remember the house having so much personality when he first lived there.
He took the keyring out of his pocket and found the most recent addition, which was an old skeleton key that the court-appointed executor had given him. It took more than a few attempts to get the old lock to turn, but Andrew eventually managed to find the trick and open the door. A strong musty smell emanated from within the house, somehow managing to be a different kind of smell that hung over the porch. The couple gave each other the same incredulous look before stepping inside.
Andrew reached over to the wall by the door and flipped a switch. Surprisingly, the lights worked, even though they only gave off a faint, orange glow. He and Celeste walked into the center of the living room and dropped their bags, sending up a small puff of dust. Andrew looked around the room, torn between the familiarity and alienness of it all. Most of the furniture was still the same, but the whole house had taken on an aura of neglect and disarray.
Several years’ worth of newspapers were stacked in a pile by the fireplace, all still in their original plastic. Scattered across the coffee table were generic magazines and papers covered in scribbles of nothing in particular. The only part of the room that seemed well maintained was the small bookcase under the living room window, whi
ch simply had two full shelves of books sitting in neat rows. Corvus had stopped taking care of the place in his old age and had possibly even started losing his grip on reality if the scribbles were any indication. Looking at the mess of the living room caused a whole new kind of mourning to pass over Andrew.
His grandfather had spent his final years alone and uncared for, and that was Andrew’s fault. He could have hired someone to take care of Corvus or had him move up to Massachusetts to live with him and Celeste. Anything would have been better than living out his days alone in a house that decayed with his mind.
But even through the guilt, a small part of him knew that his grandfather wouldn’t have allowed Andrew to help him even if he tried. Corvus was from a time where working was all you had. Andrew was certain that Corvus wouldn’t have wanted to be alive if he couldn’t live on his own and take care of himself. Maybe that life was what he wanted.
Celeste walked through the living room and around the half wall into the small kitchen area and ran the tap. The water came out clean, much to her apparent surprise.
“You know he drank water, right?” Andrew called across the living space, having a small laugh at his wife’s expense.
“Have you seen the room you’re standing in?” She called back. “I’ll be surprised if anything here is safe or healthy.”
She had a point. Corvus never excelled at cleanliness or tidiness, but it also wasn’t like him to let his house fall apart the way he did. The man had lived his whole life working the land and making things with his hands, so it was strange to see his home in such a sad state.
Celeste turned the tap off and walked over to the phone hanging on the wall. She picked it up, held it to her ear, and listened. A look of dismay fell over her face as she announced, “It’s disconnected.”
“What?”
“There’s no sound, no dial tone, nothing.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“I guess we’re on our own while we’re out here.”
“I think this is another point in favor of getting a room at that motel in town,” Celeste pointed out, clearly unhappy with the condition of the house.
“As I said before,” Andrew said through a clenched jaw. “We don’t have the money right now to stay in a motel for weeks on end while we fix this place up. If it’s safe, we stay. End of story.”
Celeste visibly stiffened at his words, and Andrew immediately felt bad for the way he had spoken to her. The frustration melted out of him.
“I’m sorry pumpkin,” he said.
“It’s fine,” she crossed the room and put her arms around him. “I know how hard this all must be for you, so we’ll stay here if we can.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Do you want to help me take our bags upstairs?”
A small smile spread across his face. “I’d love to.”
The two of them grabbed their bags and made their way up the stairs, which creaked loudly with every step. At the top of the stairs was a hallway with a bathroom on the left and two bedrooms on the right. Andrew led Celeste past the first door, telling her as he did that it was Corvus’s room, and he’d rather them sleep in his old room.
He opened the door to the bedroom he used to sleep in and recoiled at what was inside. Dozens and dozens of porcelain dolls filled the room. They were on the floor, lining the walls, on the rocking chair, the bedside table, and even all over the bed. There were cracks and holes on many of their heads, and broken shards of porcelain were littered across the room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Celeste balked at the sight of the ceramic carnage.
“I guess Corvus had some beef with all of Grandma Eileen’s old dolls,” Andrew mused.
“So our sleeping options are the room your grandfather died in or the room where he tortured children’s toys?”
“Okay, maybe just one night in a motel.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Celeste opened the front door of the old farmhouse and flipped the switch, but no lights came on. She flipped it a few more times. Nothing. She cursed under her breath and turned her phone flashlight on before stepping inside. The house was far creepier in the dead of night. A strong wind blew, rattling loose boards and whistling through openings in the structure.
She walked into the living room, shining the light across it. Old furniture came into view as the light went by, but nothing was out of place. She continued her search.
She turned and went up the stairs, led by a strange compulsion she couldn’t seem to name. She just had to. At the top of the stairs, the dark hallway beckoned to her. Her flashlight guiding the way, Celeste approached Andrew’s old bedroom. Her hand hesitated briefly before clutching the handle and turning.
The door slowly creaked open, revealing dozens and dozens of those wretched porcelain dolls, all cracked and chipped and broken. She scanned the flashlight slowly across the room, looking for any signs of movement. Nothing.
Celeste went back down the hall to the next door, to Corvus’s room, and pushed it open. There was a human figure laying in the bed, covered by the bedding. Against her better judgment, she approached slowly, tiptoeing toward the bed, her hand reaching out to grab the blanket. She finally took hold and threw it back, revealing an empty bed.
A rhythmic rumbling suddenly emanated from the other side of the wall, startling Celeste. It was coming from Andrew’s room. She crept out of the room she was in, went down the hall, and peeked around the corner to see what was making the sound.
The old rocking chair was aggressively moving back and forth, seemingly on its own. She went over and stopped it, plunging the house back into silence. Puzzled by the chair’s activity, it took Celeste far too long to realize that something else was out of the ordinary. Then, all at once, it hit her.
The dolls were gone.
Panic set in, and she found herself running. She ran out of the room, through the hall, and down the stairs, desperate to leave the house. She made a beeline for the front door but found it locked. She pulled and pulled, dropping her phone in the process. The flashlight landed facing the ground, and darkness surrounded her.
Celeste leaned down to pick up her phone and saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She slowly turned the phone, illuminating the living room behind her. Her heart dropped.
There they were. The dolls were perched all around the room. They were on the couch, the coffee table, the bookshelf, the floor, everywhere. And they were all facing her.
Celeste woke with a start and was relieved to find herself in the motel room. Soft morning sunbeams poked through the gap between the curtains, bathing the room in an amber glow. Andrew walked out of the bathroom in a pair of jeans with a toothbrush in his mouth.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said through a mouthful of toothpaste. “Sounded like you were having a nightmare.”
“Because I was,” she replied, still trying to convince her heart rate that she was safe.
Andrew walked back into the bathroom and spat before calling out, “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“It was those stupid dolls from yesterday. I had a dream that they were moving on their own and that they were coming to get me.”
“Can’t blame you there. They were super creepy.”
Celeste climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom as Andrew stepped out, their routine transitioning cleanly into the new environment. She sat down to pee. “They have got to go before you can get me to be in that house again.”
“I figured as much,” Andrew called from the other side of the door, where Celeste knew he was undoubtedly throwing on an old work shirt. Years of marriage had made the two of them more than a little predictable, which she preferred. “Why don’t you stay in town while I go out to the house and take care of the porcelain infestation? You can get your prescription filled and maybe do a little bit of window shopping. I’ll come back to get you once the house is doll-
free.”
Celeste finished washing her hands and opened the door to give Andrew a good morning kiss. “I knew there was a reason I married you.”
He put his shoes on, kissed his wife goodbye, and headed out the door, leaving Celeste alone in the room. She took a nice, long shower while listening to music. The past week had been a whirlwind, and Celeste was just thankful to have a morning of alone time. As she left the motel room, she thought that Andrew would probably appreciate it too.
A light autumn breeze blew past Celeste as she stepped outside, squinting in the sunlight. She had looked up the pharmacy and knew that it was just a few blocks away from the motel. To be fair, she thought, everything in that podunk town was just a few blocks away from everything else. Celeste put wireless earbuds in and turned on her music.
She walked down Main street, passing the only stoplight in Dry Creek, and marveled at just how empty it all was. Most people must have been at work or school because she was the only soul on the street at that time. Celeste had always grown up thinking that she was from a small town, but her 8,000 person hometown was gargantuan when compared to the less than 700 people that Dry Creek boasted.
She walked past the sheriff’s office, the Catholic church, and what was ostensibly the town’s only grocery store all in the span of ten minutes, and nestled between them were a series of mom-and-pop shops that each seemed to be relatively unoccupied, save for their proprietors. They all watched her pass in that way that people from small towns tend to do. Not being outright unwelcoming, but being more than a little aware of anyone who doesn’t look like they belong.
After twenty minutes of walking, Celeste finally arrived at the pharmacy. She pulled her earbuds out and stashed them in her hoodie pocket as she entered, sending a bell above the door into a frenzy of tiny clangs. Jax looked up from the counter and flashed her a large, toothy smile.
The Ragged Page 2