The Bell House

by Lori Titus

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  He ignored her jab and took a gulp of his beer.

  The hallway between the den and the bathroom was dark, but he didn’t bother with lights. Feeling his way along the wall, his fingers touched the light switch.

  Just before he flipped the switch up, something moved out the corner of his eye.

  It was black and thick and curled like oil. It crept up the baseboard of the far wall, moving like a vine.

  Henry turned.

  His fingers flicked the switch.

  Nothing.

  He stared at the empty wall. He’d expected to see something. Even the movement of a bug or a fly would have done something to soothe his shock and discomfort.

  Nothing.

  Just a clean, white wall.

  He went into the bathroom and showered. When he was done, he made sure to turn on the hall light before he emerged.

  He half expected that spreading stain of darkness to be there. But there was nothing.

  “This is foolishness,” he muttered to himself and walked briskly to his room.

  JENNA WENT TO BED LATE that night with the television on.

  Since Stephen died she’d been unable to sleep unless there was - noise in the background. She had tried music, but that kept her awake. It was only the soft glow of the television screen and the murmur of voices that soothed her.

  Sometimes the dialog between characters would creep into her sleeping mind. Other times they became the soundtrack to the dark thoughts she silenced in the daytime.

  But last night, she’d dreamed of Stephen.

  It had been like a memory, but more vivid than real life could ever be.

  They’d been in bed together in their old house. He’d lain on his side, looking at her.

  They hadn’t touched, but she’d been aware of the warmth of his body. He’d yawned, and she’d smiled at him. Beneath his dark stubble, his skin blushed red, but it was golden brown where he was tan. His eyes, which held smudges of bright green and gray, sometimes appeared blue or amber in color. In the dream, he breathed, and each breath he took made something inside her chest hurt.

  She was trying to touch him. Just to stroke his cheekbone with her hand or smooth his wavy hair into place, but she was paralyzed.

  “Jenna,” he whispered, his voice a warm, rich tenor.

  She opened her mouth. Why can’t I speak?

  “Only the living are silent,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “You can’t follow where I go.”

  AHMAD’S THINGS WAITED in the house out back.

  Diana went alone. She thought about bringing the kids with her for company, but in the end decided against it; they would be more hindrance than help.

  She started on the downstairs first.

  Ahmad had always been horrible about cleaning up after himself. Most of the stuff in the living room was just garbage. Things Diana wasn’t sure about, she piled onto the kitchen counter for closer inspection.

  On the coffee table, she found his high school yearbook.

  Unable to resist, she made a space on the couch and sat down. Her son had been a handsome boy. She remembered how the girls used to chase him, and how it used to amuse him. He played basketball all the way through school, and yes, there had been talk that he had the potential to make a career of it if he held tight and kept his nose clean through college.

  But the car accident ended all that.

  Diana paged through the book. Ahmad with a pretty girl in a cheerleader’s uniform. Ahmad poised at the net in the final minutes of a game. Ahmad sitting among a group of other boys with skateboards.

  He had an infectious grin. She remembered his chuckle.

  Putting aside the book, she went upstairs.

  She grabbed a handful of plastic bags, and unceremoniously- began to throw his clothes in.

  At first, she had considered giving the clothes to the local charity.

  She felt like doing something else now.

  The clothes were so heavy that it took her three trips to haul them downstairs. Then she had to go to the shed in the back. The barbeque pit hadn’t been used in months and was so heavy that she strained her back pulling it around the yard, but she managed to do it.

  Once she had the matches in her hand, she paused, but only for an instant.

  She piled the clothes on the grill and burned them.

  JENNA FELT ODD SHOPPING for furniture by herself.

  It was one of the things that she and Stephen used to do together—go out on weekends and see where they could find consignment stores or mom and pop furniture outfits that had unique pieces. It didn’t feel right going on a shopping spree without him, knowing that he would have enjoyed it.

  So you like some of the things that I do now, don’t you? He’d say. I pulled you over to the dark side.

  Stephen was such a geek that it wasn’t funny. But he was smart and sexy, and he was hers. It was insane that one of his dumb jokes would make her want to tear up, but it did.

  She walked through the aisles slowly. She had taken measurements on her last trip to Diana’s (it was strange that she still thought of it as her sister’s place, but she did) so she knew what size couch she would need. The bed would be another four-posted maple piece, but a queen this time instead of a king. Anything larger than that would only emphasize the fact that she was expecting to sleep alone for the foreseeable future.

  Lamps. Rugs. End tables. Amazing the number of things you have to buy when you’re starting all over again.

  She thought everything would blend well once she got into the space. There were repairs that needed to be done too—the fireplace needed cleaning, and she wanted to install a ceiling fan for the bedroom.

  She did a double take when the saleswoman handed her a tally of the bill. Jenna sighed, shook her head, and passed the woman her credit card. Though she was buying things she needed, it somehow felt wasteful. Outside, sunshine slanted against her face. It wasn’t noon yet, but the autumn light was already harsh. Jenna decided that this would be a good time for an early lunch.

  SHE FOUND A PASTRY and sandwich shop at the end of the block. As she opened the door, the smell of hot coffee and croissants made her stomach grumble.

  She realized that she hadn’t had anything to eat since noon the day before.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute, ma’am,” a teenage girl yelled from behind the counter before disappearing into the back.

  “Hey, I’ve never seen you here before.”

  Jenna turned on her heel and was greeted by a familiar face. “Amanda!”

  The two women hugged. Jenna was relieved that she had not actually broken into tears earlier since she hadn’t seen Amanda since the funeral.

  “How are you, honey?” Amanda said. She was a little woman, and as usual, she was on the go—still wearing her yoga pants and sneakers from the gym.

  Amanda’s face was flushed. She blinked, her bright blue eyes wide beneath thick lashes. Her brown ponytail bounced on her back.

  “I’m good.”

  “Well it’s great to see you out and about. I never see you in my neck of the woods.”

  Jenna smiled. “That’s right, your boys go to Oakhurst.”

  “Yeah. I was trying to squeeze in a workout. And you?”

  “Shopping.”

  “Always a healthy outlet!” Amanda chuckled.

  THEY HAD BRUNCH TOGETHER at a table in a corner window, and Amanda’s bright mood couldn’t help but lift Jenna’s spirits. They had met years ago when Jenna was teaching kindergarten and one of Amanda’s sons was enrolled in her class. She remembered it vividly. It was Amanda’s first time leaving her little boy behind in school, and she had stood in the back of the class for ten minutes, red-faced, trying to hold back her tears.

  They talked when she came back to pick up her son, and the two of them hit it off. Amanda was a stay at home mom, but before she married, she’d worked for a magazine in New York. She had a degree in journalism and a def
inite talent for photography. Once she married and had kids, though, she happily gave it up to live in Chrysalis with her family.

  They talked and laughed for a long time about nothing particularly important. Jenna knew—a change in topic was coming when Amanda touched her hand.

  “Hey, you know, I have been meaning to ask you this, but there’s not really a polite way to do it. How well do you know Diana?”

  Jenna paused. She raised an eyebrow.

  “Not a lot to be honest. I babysit for her grandkids now and again, and we talk on the phone every few weeks or so.”

  “It’s a small town. So I am aware of the whole thing with her mom and yours,” she said carefully. “I was just wondering about this sudden show of . . . well, her inviting you to live out there.”

  “It’s not really sudden. I mean, I have had ownership of that house for years. I just never took advantage of it. And when her son was a teen, I told her she could go ahead and let Ahmad stay there.”

  “So she has no choice in the matter, really? That you finally decided to move in?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, no.”

  “There’s always been talk that Diana is . . . not the most stable of people. I know that she lost her son, and that’s not something a parent ever recovers from, especially not a mother,” she put a hand over her chest, shivering at the thought of what would happen if she lost either of her sons. “And I am not one of those people that believe minor things should be held against you forever.”

  “What kind of talk do you mean, specifically?”

  “When Ahmad died, there were questions about where he got the alcohol from. And why his friend was driving.”

  Chapter Three

  “Aunt Jenna’s here!” Maya cried.

  Maya ran past her grandmother, who stood in the kitchen smoking a cigarette, and joined her sister in the front yard.

  “Look at that,” Diana said, tapping the ash into a plate beside her on the kitchen countertop. “She has a furniture truck backing up in here. Who does that?”

  Henry shook his head. “Well, all her shit got burned up, remember?”

  “Oh,” she said between puffs. “Yeah.”

  Jenna’s car, a black BMW, followed behind the truck. She parked a few spaces back and emerged from her car wearing black sunglasses, jeans, and a pink tank top. Her hair was pulled back and piled into a high ponytail.

  Diana noticed Jenna’s smile as the girls ran to greet her.

  “AUNT JENNA!” TALEYA reached her first, throwing her arms around her waist.

  “Hi, baby,” she smiled, patting the girl’s back. She crouched so that she could be on eye level with them both. Maya kissed her cheek.

  “Well, I’m here! It’s going to take a little while for those men to finish putting my things in the house, but I’m going to be able to visit you guys all the time now. It’s going to be fun.”

  “Can you come watch cartoons?” Maya asked. “We have a new one about the cat and . . . the cat and . . . what’s it called, Taleya?”

  “Cat and Crazzle,” Taleya rolled her eyes. “And that’s for little kids. Aunt Jenna doesn’t want to see stuff for babies.”

  “Well, how about you, Aunt Jenna. You brought all your movies?”

  “I don’t have any movies,” she replied. “I may have to buy some.”

  “She means she doesn’t have any movies for little kids like you,” Taleya said.

  “You’re not so big! I’m gonna be taller than you,” Maya pouted.

  “Nuh-uh!”

  “Girls!” Jenna intervened, holding back her laughter. “How about you come inside with me to see your Gramma?”

  Taleya shrugged. “Alright. But I don’t know why you wanna talk to her.”

  “OH, HERE THE BITCH comes,” Diana muttered.

  Henry sighed. “This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?”

  “Why do you say that?” she snapped, turning to look at him.

  The front door opened just then, and the girls came skipping through with Jenna right behind them.

  “Hey, honey,” Diana called. “How are you doing?”

  “Alright,” Jenna came over and gave Diana a brief hug. “Hey, Henry.”

  “Hey, sis,” he nodded and headed for one of the bedrooms, a beer in hand. Jenna had the feeling she’d just walked in on something unpleasant.

  “Don’t mind him,” Diana said. “He’s just pissy today. I thought you weren’t coming out until later today.”

  “That was the original plan, but these guys finished their other deliveries early. I came by yesterday and had a look at the place, but you guys were out. Thanks for getting it so clean for me. It’s pristine now.”

  “Yeah, that was a week’s worth of work.”

  “I see you painted the kitchen too! Thanks, but I wish you would have let me help you.”

  “No, that’s alright. Really I wanted to be the one to do it.”

  Jenna nodded. She wasn’t sure what else to say when Diana could be so stubborn about the smallest thing. So she decided to change the subject.

  “By the way. Since I’m going to be here now, let me know when I can keep the girls for you, and you and Henry can have a date night sometime. I know it can’t be easy when you don’t have a babysitter anymore.”

  “Yeah. When Elva moved away—I’m not gonna lie, honey—that shit hit me hard. We have no time,” she leaned in, lowering her voice. The children were in the living room, safely out of earshot. “There is no privacy in this house with these kids here, and I can’t even begin to tell you what I have been missing. I’ll just say it’s been a long time since that man in there did any maintenance on these pipes.”

  Jenna laughed. Diana did too, and they were soon both shivering with laughter.

  “Girl, I know you been married, so I’m sure that you know what it’s like with the . . . well, changes, dips and flows,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Not to be insulting, but you haven’t never been really married until you’re married with some goddamn kids. That takes shit to a whole other level, ’cause you might want to romance a motherfucker, but who’s got the time?”

  Jenna sobered. “Yeah. Well, I have heard the same from friends of mine, but none of them quite put it that way.”

  “I believe in being real. After you get remarried and have a couple kids, you’ll tell me how right I was.”

  Jenna leaned back against the sink, crossing her arms. “Well, that’s going to be a while off.”

  Diana reached into the refrigerator and took out a package of grapes. “Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  “Alright. Hand me that colander up there, baby. Since you’re a little bit taller than me.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Jenna reached into the cabinet and pulled the colander out. She was actually a good seven inches taller than Diana, without heels.

  “By the way, how did you manage to get all the height in the family?” she teased. “That shit ain’t fair.”

  “Well, some of mama’s people were pretty tall.”

  “Wasn’t Miss Louise like my height?”

  “Yeah, give or take an inch. But a couple of her sisters were five eight.”

  “Dang, they make you chicks solid. She’s a brick house, huh?” She didn’t miss Diana’s appraising stare. “You got a nice little shape, though. My mama didn’t have any tits as you can see,” she patted her own chest. “And I don’t know why nobody on her side of the family don’t have an ass. I mean, we’re black women. What the fuck?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I guess no one has everything.”

  “Oh, but you do,” she said slyly.

  Diana actually started singing the old song, “Brick House” with a devious little smile on her face. Then she abruptly stopped and said, “You know, since Henry’s home, we can have some wine and cheese with this. There’s crackers over there in the pantry. Just sit back and relax a minute.”

  “Thanks,” Jenna said. “It means a lot, you know.”
>
  Diana smiled. “I like the idea of having a little bit of blood here.”

  AT SOME POINT IN THE early evening, Henry herded his adopted granddaughters into their room for bed. Diana and Jenna were in the kitchen talking about God knows what. He could tell that their chatter at least sounded friendly, but he didn’t care to participate. The beginnings of a bad headache were brewing at his temples, pulsing hard and wrapping around his nose and the back of his eyes. He was never one to have headaches often and had never experienced a migraine. He wondered if this was what one felt like.

  He lay down on the bed. There was a replay of a game that he’d been waiting to see all day, but he found that he was growing drowsy as the announcer spoke.

  He closed his eyes. The fan whirred above the bed, cooling his skin. Soon he was asleep, his breath falling into an even rhythm.

  The barest of noise, almost a whisper, woke him. All was quiet. The lights in the house were all off, and Diana was asleep beside him. The stillness let him know the children were also sleeping in their room.

  There was a pale light coming from the hallway, a night light that they’d put in so the girls could see their way to the bathroom.

  The thin, white glow lay against the white cotton curtains.

  Henry blinked.

  Something black was creeping against the wall. It crawled stealthily, like a fast growing vine, stretching its limbs soundlessly.

  He blinked again, shook his head, closed his eyes, and opened them.

  When he looked, the blackness was still there, growing. There was a pulse to it, like a heartbeat.

  Henry screamed.

  THE NEXT MORNING, JENNA woke, not sure where she was.

  Often in the morning—almost every day—she woke with the sense that Stephen was right beside her. His weight in the bed, the warmth that always radiated from his skin, even the smell of him—shampoo, aftershave, a hint of sweat—were ingrained into her being, a part of her own flesh that ran deeper than memory or words. There was something both animal and spiritual about the way they were together.