by LL Helland
Brittany heard her great-grandmother running down the hall, saying, “Brittany, I’m coming. Are you all right?”
Brittany felt a little stupid, waking her granmama and worrying her over a chicken. Granmama looked as if she had been sleeping. Her gray hair was smashed down on one side and sticking out on the other. A few hairpins stuck out, ready to fall to the ground with just a few more steps. Her green robe was not quite on her shoulders, and she struggled to adjust the armholes. She did have both slippers on, but they didn’t match. One green slipper went with her robe, but the other one was fluffy and pink.
Before her great-grandmother could say anything, Brittany gave her a sheepish smile and said, “I guess the call bell works.”
Granmama sat on the side of Brittany’s bed and said, “Are you all right, Brittany?” She felt Brittany’s forehead. “You are a little warm. Let me get you something for your fever.”
Brittany said, “Before you go, did you see that chicken running around the room?”
“Brittany, what chicken are you talking about?”
“The chicken that used to be on the wall mural over there.” As Brittany pointed to the wall, she saw the chicken in the exact same place that it had been earlier.
“Brittany, you rest, dear. I’ll fetch you something for your fever.” Granmama walked into Brittany’s bathroom and came back with some aspirin and a glass of water. Brittany knew there had been nothing in the bathroom but her toiletry bag—no aspirin and certainly no glass. Maybe she felt worse than she thought.
After Brittany took the aspirin, Granmama kissed her on the forehead and said, “You feel cooler already. Can I get you anything else?”
“No. Thank you for the aspirin. Good night, Granmama.” Brittany could hear her walking softly down the hallway. She wondered why her great-grandmother hadn’t put on the isolation gear like she had earlier that evening. Brittany peeked over at the mural, but the chicken was in its place. I must be tired, she thought. I hope I feel better by tomorrow. I don’t want to ruin everyone’s trip to Scotland.
Brittany didn’t think she had fallen asleep or pressed the call button, but she heard her great-grandmother running down the hallway. “I’m coming, Brittany.”
When her great-grandmother entered the room, she was wearing the exact same thing. A green robe half on, one green slipper, one fussy pink one. But, there was one big exception—Great-Grandmother was a five-foot-tall rat. “Brittany, what is it, dear?”
“Ahhh, Granmama, is that you?”
“Yes, Brittany. What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure you aren’t Chris in disguise?”
“No, sweetie. Let me feel your head.” The life-sized rat in her granmama’s robe put its paw on Brittany’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm. What’s this about Chris in a disguise?”
“Nothing.” Brittany slowly reached her hand out and touched the fur on Great-Grandmother’s arm. “Yep, it’s fur!”
Granmama brought Brittany’s hand up and kissed it. She wanted to pull away. She was being kissed by a giant rat.
She said softly, “Granmama, have you looked at yourself lately in a mirror?”
“Why no, dear! I know I’m not as young as I used to be, but my mind is still sharp.” Granmama didn’t really know if this was true anymore. She had started to forget things.
“Maybe you should go in the bathroom and have a look.”
Great-Grandmother got up and walked into the bathroom. The next thing Brittany heard was a scream. She threw the covers off and ran into the bathroom, half expecting to see her granmama on the floor. But, when she entered the small bath, she saw she hadn’t fainted as Brittany had thought.
Great-Grandmother said, “Look at my appearance! I look like a street person with no destination or home to speak of. You must think I look terrible!” She took her rat paw and smoothed her hair down and re-pinned any strands that were hanging down.
“Granmama, is that all you see in the mirror?”
“Dear Brittany, if you want me to take a closer look, I’ll have to go get my glasses. You know, when you get to be my age, you don’t want to look too close, might discover something unpleasant on your face that wasn’t there the day before.”
“No! You don’t need to get your glasses. I guess I’m tired.” She started to kiss her great-grandmother good night, but she just couldn’t bring herself to kiss the rat.
Granmama reached over and kissed Brittany on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning, dear. Try to get some sleep.”
Brittany watched the rat walk out of the room. “I’ve got to lie down.”
Before going to sleep Brittany heard an unfamiliar sound. Someone was dragging something along the wall in the hallway. She thought it best that she didn’t look. Probably another large rat, or it could still be the one dressed like her great-grandmother. This prank was too elaborate for Chris to do by himself. He must have had help from Great-Grandfather. She would have to search out her odd great-grandfather tomorrow and explain to him that she didn’t like magic all that much. Even if he was a spirit, she needed to set some boundaries.
Was Brittany delirious with fever, or had she really seen her granmama as a life-sized rat? Was the rat a symbol for something yet to come?
CHAPTER 16
As soon as Jon entered his room, the lights went out. He didn’t think he could find the flashlight that Great-Grandmother had left him in the messy room. He fumbled in the dark, stepping around the papers on the floor, looking for the desk lamp, and hoping it would work. Jon heard a cat meowing, and his eyes started swelling and itching. By the time he reached the light, his nose began to drip. He switched the light on and looked around the room, but there was no cat.
He noticed the Murphy bed was back in place and wondered if the cat could be trapped in the bed. He pulled the bed down, but no cat. He could feel his throat closing. When he thought he remembered what Great-Grandmother had done to clear the air, Jon grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it over to the vent. The chair was a little wobbly, but it would hold his weight. He opened the shut the vent several times, but nothing happened. He had not really wanted to do the peculiar dance Granmama had done, but it looked like he would have to try.
Jon’s mind worked quickly. He waved his hands in the air, and still nothing happened. He contemplated going to get Great-Grandmother, but he decided to try one more time. Under his breath, he mumbled the words Granmama had used earlier. They did not make sense to him, and he would feel a little foolish for saying them, especially if the vent did not open.
He chanted, “Skinny penny air blow in, fresh and clean before we sneeze.” A burst of fresh air blew from the vent, almost knocking Jon off the chair. As before, his throat cleared, his eyes stopped itching, and his nose dried up.
He found his luggage behind the desk and pulled out what he needed. Jon carried the desk lamp as close to the door as he could and looked down the hallway for a bathroom. There was one right next door. The light barely shone in to the bathroom, but Jon didn’t plan to be in there very long.
As he finished brushing his teeth, he saw several drops of what looked like dried blood on the floor. His stomach turned, and he started to retch. He could not stand the sight of blood even if it was old and dried. He looked away until he finished, then quickly picked up the lamp and headed back to his room. As soon as he left the bathroom, the blood spatters vanished.
He felt lucky to have such a comfortable bed. He laughed when he thought of the other accommodations that his siblings had.
Jon turned off the light and jumped into bed. He pulled the covers up over his head and went fast to sleep.
Jon was a very light sleeper, and something brought his thoughts to his conscious mind. Something in the hallway was making a scraping sound. He didn’t know if his younger brother, Chris, had something to do with this noise, but he was going to find out.
He got out of bed, and the floor was cold. Jon quickly got his socks on and crept into the hallway, where
it was completely dark. He turned on the flashlight and put his fingers over the lens to drown out some of the light. Jon stopped and listened for the noise again. There it was. It sounded like it was now on the first floor. “It’s got to be Chris.”
He stepped on something warm and almost landed on his rear. Jon lifted his foot and checked the bottom of his sock. It looked like blood. He thought about going back, but the noise was loud. It sounded like someone arguing. He continued on, trying to follow the blood spatters.
Jon got mixed up slightly in the long hallways, but soon found the stairs. He knew he was headed in the right direction because of the blood spots on the floor. There was something scraping against the walls of the hallway. As he got closer, he turned off his flashlight. There was only a small amount of light, but once his eyes got adjusted, it was enough to silently make his way down the corridor and surprise his brother, Chris.
The only one getting a surprise was going to be Jon.
He peeked around the corner to see how best to scare his brother, when he saw a gruesome sight. There was an old, bearded man, dressed like a hippie, trying to pull a large man down the hallway.
The old man said, “Eanrik, we need to get you back into the basement.”
It wasn’t the front of the man that was horrifying; it was his back. Sticking out of his back was a long knife with blood dripping down his shirt and onto the floors. Blood spatters were everywhere. Jon suspected the odd-looking man was his great-grandfather, whom he knew to be dead. The knife sticking out of the giant’s back scraped against the wall, which was the sound Jon had heard. It wasn’t his brother at all.
Jon was frozen with fright. He wondered if any of his siblings had seen this thing. The thing with the knife in his back was obviously huge, some type of experiment gone wrong. The old man was having a lot of difficulty maneuvering the thing toward the stairs. The giant creature’s hands were huge and his fingers short and stubby. His nose was smashed. Jon did not know if that was due to a fight or if that was natural. His lips were big, but not big enough to keep his tongue inside his mouth. Drool fell on his shirt. The old man was working up quite a sweat trying to move this thing down the hallway.
There was no way that Jon was going to help, even if this was his great-grandfather. This was just too weird. Jon was never scared of anything, but this was one time that being cautious just might save his life.
He turned to go back to his room, but not before hitting his toe on one of the old artifacts that lined the hallways. Jon clenched his teeth and put his hands over his mouth until the pain went away. He peeked around the corner, only to see that creature pulling the old man in his direction. How he wished that was his brother making that noise, and not this thing. It must have heard him. Jon ran for the stairs with his flashlight on. He could still hear the thing scraping the knife against the wall as it was trying to get loose from Jon’s great-grandfather.
Jon ran down the hallway not caring if he woke his siblings, who had no knowledge of Jon’s soon-to-be death. Once he reached his door, he slammed it shut and locked it. The upper part was made out of glass, so that wasn’t a lot of protection against something like this. Once his heartbeat and breathing quieted somewhat, he listened with his ear at the doorjamb. There was no noise. Nothing. Not that thing, or his great-grandfather, nor his siblings. Jon ran to his bed and dove under the covers. He wished the Murphy bed would close up into the wall so he could be safe.
What he wouldn’t do to change rooms with one of the others. They all had heavy doors, or at least a solid door with a lock on it. He thought about going in search of his brother’s or sisters’ rooms, but he didn’t want to run into that thing. He decided on a very practical situation. He took the comforter off and shoved it under the bed. Jon then crawled under the bed and wrapped the string around his wrist. This would keep the bed on the floor. If someone should enter the room, they would think he had gotten up and gone to the bathroom.
It took Jon a very long time to fall asleep, especially since he was a light sleeper. But eventually he was out.
Was Eanrik just a worthless annoyance, or would he hurt the Hellandback children? When the children’s father was young, Granmama and her husband were a lot younger. Had Alastair and Granmama lost their ability to control what went on in their house?
CHAPTER 17
As all four of the Hellandback children slept, things were changing in the house. The mystery rooms were now taking shape.
As Chris slept, he started to get cold. He reached down to pull up his sleeping bag, but could not find it. He fumbled around in the dark. The table felt like ice, and his surprise woke him up. He finally sat up and looked around. He lay on the ice in just his T-shirt and pineapple boxers. There were four small creatures standing around him. Chris’s lacrosse stick was half frozen to his hand.
He yelled, “Get back! All of you get back!” He swung his lacrosse stick. At first he thought he was dreaming, but then something about them looked familiar. When the one had shown up in his closet in Boston, Chris had thought he was either a little person—or a very large rodent.
He recognized their big heads, large ears, and red, flickering eyes. They had long, dark, gross fingernails. Chris said in a whisper, “So, that’s what those things are, fingernails.”
They were only a few feet tall and were covered with green, dirty fur. They did not look that threatening, and Chris figured he could take all of them if he had to.
While he felt chilled, he was not as cold as he should have been sitting partially clothed in the snow. An enormous wall of ice rose in front of Chris, going on as far as he could see. “Where am I?”
One of the small creatures said in a high-pitched, slow-moving voice, “Let me introduce myself and my friends. My name is Tompack.” He was the tallest. “That small, funny one is Bihydrant, the one that is darker green is Kaver, and the one with the chunk out of his ear is Quill. We are Bundlebobs.”
They held up a lacrosse bag. “Is this yours?” Bihydrant asked.
Chris stretched and yawned. He thought he was still a bit tired and couldn’t tell if he was dreaming. “Yeah, that would be mine, or my older brother’s. You see, it’s Jon’s old bag from middle school. He gave it to me when he moved on to high school. Number eleven always brought him good luck.”
Tompack said, “I guess you’re the one that’s come to save us.”
Bihydrant felt Chris’s muscles, or lack of, and said, “Seems a bit small to be helping us.”
As Chris took his lacrosse bag from the Bundlebobs, he said, “Help you with what?”
Tompack said, “Alastair said you would help us get to the other side of that ice wall.”
“You mean that hippie?”
The Bundlebobs just looked at each other. Tompack looked at the bag again and said, “This is yours?”
Chris nodded.
Tompack continued. “Then you must be the one who has come to help us.”
Chris did not understand. “Help you do what? I can’t even get myself out of this mess.”
Tompack sighed, “We need to reach the other side of this ice wall and get back to our families. We were banned years ago for a minor infraction. Bihydrant over there”—he pointed to the smallest one in the group—“cut through the ice in the forbidden pond and ate one of our leader’s talking fish.”
Chris spied a look at the little one who was now trying to dig through Chris’s lacrosse bag.
While he spoke, the other three Bundlebobs had begun fighting and poking each other.
Chris said, “Hey fellas, let’s save the energy for something constructive.” He got in between the Bundlebobs and tried prying their fingers off of each other. He wasn’t making any headway. Chris was outnumbered, and the Bundlebobs together had many more hands than he did, all moving at lightning-quick speed.
Chris yelled, “Stop, you overgrown guinea pigs!”
Each Bundlebob immediately let go of each other and covered their ears in pain. The Bundlebo
bs’ ears were very sensitive to any loud noise. The flesh inside their ears actually tore, causing them to cry out in pain.
Chris grabbed his bag from Bihydrant and started going through it. The Bundlebobs played with each item in the bag as it came out.
One of them grabbed Chris’s cleats, put them on his ears, and said, “Perfect fit!”
Chris snatched his cleats back, dug his socks out from inside, and put them on. Tompack found a lacrosse ball in the bag, and the four of the Bundlebobs started throwing the ball around. Chris took advantage of their distraction, putting on all the clothes that he found in the bag. When he finished, he must have looked strange in all his mismatched clothes, but he was a lot warmer. He now wore one black sock, one white high-top sock, wild tropical-print shorts—wore them every Friday practice, the wilder the better—and his game shorts, then his practice jersey, game jersey, and sweatshirt. He even found several bandanas in his bag. He tied one around his neck and the other around his head, like he did during practice.
When he looked up, Bihydrant had his helmet on, with his ears flipped over, hanging in his eyes. Though only two feet tall, the Bundlebob’s head was huge, so the helmet was almost too tight.
Chris looked at the Bundlebobs’ long fingernails. “Tompack, do you know how to dig?”
Tompack shook his head sadly. “We can dig, but not under the wall. It goes down below the surface for miles. I have heard stories about many Bundlebobs who have tried to dig to freedom. They all died from exhaustion.” He cleared his throat and said, “You are the one who has come to save us.”
“No way! I’m only eleven years old, and I think I’m in a bad dream. I’ll wake up soon, and this will all end.”
Quill said, “No, Alastair is your great-grandfather, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but I doubt if I trust that man with making any decisions. He had a hard enough time picking me out this watch.”
Bihydrant came over to examine it and shrugged his shoulders.
Chris said, “My feeling exactly. Not even an expensive watch.”
Tompack said, “Nonetheless, you are the savior who has come to help us.”
