Wolfhowl Mountain

by Dian Cronan

  “Rose?”

  “What?”

  “Did you evah stop tah think that this is the real you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” he points at me, “the messy hair, the carefree outfit, the less-is-more makeup. The nice girl who smiles when I make a joke. The one who worries less ‘bout standin’ out and more ‘bout her little brothah. The girl who cares more ‘bout her family than bein’ head cheerleadah.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t. I’m too stunned.

  “Think ‘bout it,” he says as he eases the truck door open. “I like this Rose more.” He only makes it a few steps before Liam bounds out of the cabin with Lady right behind him, and wraps himself around Beckan’s legs. I stay in the cab, feeling like a heel.

  ***

  In the end, I decide not to lie, partly because there’s no makeup in the world that’ll hide this injury. It hurts something awful and I’m going to have to keep ice on my face all night if I want to look remotely normal tomorrow.

  The other part is what Beckan said. Is he right? I miss the status and popularity that came with being on the cheerleading team, but maybe he has a point. Maybe Mother is right too (not that I’ll tell her that). This move is a chance at a fresh start, a chance to change for the better. The trouble is, I’m not sure what I want right now. I’m not sure if I’m ready for change, or for any more change. I’m not sure I can handle it. I might just crumble under the anxiety of it all. What should I do? Who am I? Am I doing the right thing? Questions I’ve pushed to the back of my mind for months are suddenly unavoidable.

  Mother’s a little late getting home, but as it turns out, she’d run into Letta’s parents at the mailbox, conveniently located at the bottom of the hill where our driveway meets Letta’s street. Although I’m sure the encounter is no coincidence, and Letta successfully bought me a little extra time as promised, Mother doesn’t give it a second thought. She finds me at the kitchen table with my homework.

  “They’re lovely people,” she gushes. Mr. Bauer runs the local dry cleaning shop, and Mrs. Bauer gives piano lessons. They’d love to watch Liam tomorrow night so Mother and I can have a little fun. And, Mother hopes, Liam can spend each afternoon there, for a fee of course, so he isn’t spending so much time with such uncivilized company as Derry. Maybe he can even get some piano lessons too.

  Mother manages to relate all of this information before she notices my swollen nose and black eye.

  “My God Rose!” She says when she finally stops to take a breath. “What happened? Let me see.” Mother gives me one of her quick nurse-mom examinations. She lets go of my chin with irritation when she’s finished. Her touch isn’t nearly as gentle as Beckan’s.

  “You’re lucky it’s not broken,” she snaps. “You’ll have to keep ice on it to get the swelling down before tomorrow.”

  I hold up a half-melted bag of ice.

  Mother sighs and slides into the chair across from me. “Well, what were you on the wrong end of this time? A fist or a pompom?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Mother puts her head in her hands and rubs her eyes before she replies. “I suppose not. Did you at least make the team?”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, honey, I’m not gonna lie, but I’m glad.” Mother leans back in her chair. “I don’t know if I could’ve gone through another year of all the drama and tears. Not after...” Her voice trails off and she looks away. I will her not to cry.

  “Am I grounded?” I ask.

  “You know what, Rose? No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Mother says. “I always ground you and take things away from you and what happens? Nothing. You defy me anyway. I’m tired of fighting with you, Rose. I’m tired of fighting, period. This family has been through too much. So no, I’m not going to ground you.”

  I stare at Mother like she’s sprouted three heads. What happened to her angry Irish temper? What happened to the woman who screams over a late homework assignment? What happened to the woman who spanked me as a child for spilling a cup of juice on the carpet? Where’s the woman who once sent me into the trees behind our house, looking for my own switch?

  “Oh, stop looking at me like that,” Mother says finally, getting up. “I’m still your mother. I’m not possessed. Now, get a fresh bag of ice for that honker and help me with dinner.”

  “Mom, are you sure you don’t want to punish me?”

  She lets out a bizarre, humorless laugh. “Would you feel better if I did?”

  “Well, no. It’s just weird.”

  Mother puts her arm around me and kisses my forehead. “A fresh start, Rose. For all of us.”

  I nod, but I don’t feel any better. What’s going on today? First cheerleading tryouts are a disaster, then I fall into an identity crisis, and now Mother’s been replaced by some caring, compassionate being. What episode of The Twilight Zone am I in?

  After dinner, Mother washes the dishes and I try coaxing Liam into doing a bit of spelling homework. He’d disappeared from the table before he was finished chewing his last bite of mac n’ cheese, and I find him plopped on the floor in the living room, about three feet from the television.

  “What are you watching?” I ask.

  “SpongeBob!” Liam says.

  I sit on the couch and pull the coffee table closer, setting Liam’s spelling in front of me. “Let’s turn the television off for a bit and get this homework out of the way.”

  “No.”

  I look up. “Excuse me?”

  Liam doesn’t turn away from the television. His eyes are glued to the bright yellows and pinks of a pineapple under the sea.

  “Liam, get over here this instant,” I say, incredulous. I’m not used to defiance from sweet little Liam. “You need to get this done. Then you can watch cartoons until bath time.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  I can’t quite wrap my brain around what’s happening. First Mother, and now Liam? “Liam, what’s gotten into you?” He doesn’t reply.

  I snatch the remote control from an end table and turn the television off. I don’t realize how loud the cacophony of the cartoon music and sound effects are until my ears have the relief of silence. I hear Mother, clanking silverware together as she cleans at the kitchen sink. She’s humming something... something new and different yet somehow familiar.

  “Hey!” Liam whirls around on me. “Why’d you do that?”

  “I told you,” I say. “You need to do your homework. Now c’mon. It won’t take long.”

  “No!” Liam shouts. “I wanna watch TV!”

  Suddenly the noise of the cartoon returns and the darkened room is aglow with the eerie light of the television once more. I look down at my hand griping the remote control, my thumb hovering over the power button. Did I accidentally push it?

  “No, Liam,” I say sternly and turn the television off again. I put the remote down on the table and pick up a pencil. “Homework,” I say, offering the pencil to him. “Now.”

  “TV!” He shouts again, and it’s as if the mere sound of his voice brings the television back to life.

  “SpongeBob Squarepants! SpongeBob Squarepants!”

  “What the hell...”

  Liam glares at me until he realizes the television is back on. With a trance-like smile, he turns around and sits in front of the TV again, chin in his hands and legs folded neatly beneath him. It’s as if nothing about this situation is strange to him at all.

  “That’s it!” I stomp across the room and yank the television’s plug from the wall. And then I panic.

  The television is still blaring. And Liam, the sweetest boy on the planet, is defiantly sitting there in front of it, oblivious, with his wide eyes glued to his favorite cartoon.

  “Alright. I’m out.” I leave the room as fast as I can and start up the stairs. Mother’s humming assaults my ears with that new, yet familiar, tune.

  I seek refuge in my room, closing the door behind me. What the he
ll is going on in this house? My small family feels like aliens, myself included. I lean my back against the door. I want to block out the noise. No more cartoons. No more strange music. No more whirling thoughts. Only me and the silence.

  Even though it’s still early, I put on my pajamas, grab Pride and Prejudice, and climb into bed. I’m determined to put today behind me as fast as I can.

  ***

  The dream is more persistent than ever. The voice no longer asks to be let in; it demands it. The blood red doors bulge out toward me. The thunder deafens me and the lightning makes it impossible to keep my eyes open but for a few fleeting blinks of my hand twisting the knob.

  It isn’t until I wake drenched in sweat that I realize why Mother’s song is so familiar. She was humming the music from my dream.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Wolfhowl Manor

  Of course I’m up on time the one day I desperately want to stay home and bury my head in the sand. Fortunately the swelling in my nose went down overnight, but my head aches and my eye is black as coal. Just what I need, something else to make me feel like a leper around here. I do my best to cover it with makeup, but it remains a glaring reminder of my failure. I dry my hair and twist it into a fancy bun with several curled strands framing my face, hoping the fancy up-do will detract attention from my eye. For the first time in my life, I wish I had a pair of those dorky, thickly framed glasses to hide behind.

  The temperature dropped into the thirties overnight and the wind has picked up to gale forces, prompting Derry to grump “The storm, she’s a’comin’,” when he and Beckan offer us a ride to school.

  Derry sits behind the wheel and Beckan is in the middle. I climb in next to him. Liam, the devilish behavior of last night merely a memory, hops into my lap, and I strap the belt across both of our bodies.

  I try to ignore the weird feeling between us after what Beckan said last night. It’s like there’s this electric current, an annoying vibration, connecting us. I avoid his eyes, but say a quiet hello to his good morning.

  I go through the school day trying to keep a low profile, which is difficult after Ms. Brennan exclaims “Oh deah! That’s quite a shinah!” in homeroom. Anyone who hadn’t already noticed, turns to stare at me, and the rest of my day is full of jeers like, “Hey Ghost Girl, did you get into a fight with a ghost?” followed by laughter.

  I eat lunch with Letta and company, as usual. Tonight, Letta declares, we’re on the hunt for something ghostly. With her as our leader, we make plans to meet at Wolfhowl after dinner. Ronan swings by toward the end of lunch to remind me about the party. This time I play coy, still unsure of him.

  ***

  Mother comes home from work and immediately goes upstairs without a word. I watch the clock from my perch on the couch. It takes her over an hour to finish primping for whatever excuse to drink she’s headed to. In her haste, she of course forgets to do something about dinner. I make a couple of sandwiches for Liam and me, which we eat in the living room by the eerie blue-green light of the television.

  I stare at Liam’s pudgy silhouette sitting so close to the screen. His back rounds as he hunches over, his head in one hand and the last bite of his sandwich in the other. I think about all the positive changes I’ve witnessed in him since we moved here. I’d felt so sure he was getting better, happier, more well adjusted. Is that still true? What about his behavior last night? I guess it could be delayed backlash over the move. Or maybe it’s about Dad. Does he belong back in therapy? I feel like I’m staring at a stranger.

  I get off the couch and sit next to Liam. “Hey, squiggle worm.”

  Liam grunts without looking away from the television.

  “How are you doing?” I ask. “Do you like it here?”

  He shrugs. “It’s okay, I guess. Beckan’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah...” I say awkwardly. “You aren’t having bad dreams again are you?”

  “Bad dreams?” Now he turns to look at me.

  “Yeah, like when...” My voice trails off. I don’t want to upset him by bringing up the nightmares he had after Dad died, about what he’d seen in that hotel bathroom. I had nightmares too, and they were terrible for me, but I’m at least able to understand them. The frightening dreams were awful for Liam, who couldn’t understand them at all. Terrible images of Dad trying to drown him in a tub of red water, his eyes crazy with anger.

  “You know, um, about Daddy?”

  Liam shakes his head. “I haven’t had a dream about Daddy since we moved here.”

  “So you’re sleepin’ okay?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  I shrug.

  “What about you, Rosie?” Liam asks. “You’re the one who looks tired.”

  I laugh at Liam’s total lack of brain to mouth filter. “Actually I am pretty tired.”

  “Are you having nightmares?” He asks, for the first time seeming to really look at me, to see me sitting there beside him.

  “No, not exactly,” I say, “but I have been having this really strange dream ever since we got here. It’s about the house.”

  “Is it about the red doors?” Liam asks.

  I freeze and words fail me. It takes some time to gather my thoughts, and I finally whisper, “How’d you know?”

  “I had the same dream,” he says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing to worry about. “I was standing in front of the doors and they were locked. I kept hearing a voice. It said to let them in.” He imitates a deep voice and turns down the edges of his mouth. “Let me in, Liam.” He smiles. “Just like that.” Then he giggles, like we’re playing a silly game rather than talking about a nightmare.

  “And?” I ask intently. “Then what?”

  Liam furrows his eyebrows and shrugs, as if there’s no other logical response. “I let Her in. Duh.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. Liam’s been having the same strange dream, only he isn’t bothered by it in the slightest. I don’t know what to think. I’d been trying so hard to keep the menacing voice – and whoever it belonged to – out, and my little brother just let them right in.

  A chill races down my spine. “Who, Liam?” I grab his shoulders with my fingernails. “Who did you let in?”

  “Tada!” Mother enters the room with a flourish. She flips on the lights and we blink as our eyes adjust.

  Mother looks absolutely ravishing. Her pale Irish skin is ivory smooth. Her long red hair is curled and flows over her shoulders like a spilled glass of red wine. Her slinky emerald dress matches her sparkling eyes. The dress wraps her torso in a tight hug, but loosens at the hips and falls weightlessly several inches shy of her knees.

  “Well?” She asks when we don’t immediately reply.

  “You look pretty, Mommy!” Liam says.

  “Um, yeah, Mother,” I say, trying to shake the strange feeling that had come over me. “You look great.” And I mean it. Mother hasn’t looked this good in a long time. But instead of feeling happy for her, I’m mad. It’s too soon. It’s too soon for her go out partying, looking like this, all painted up like a doll, trolling for a man. A new man. A replacement. But I say none of these things, pushing them down to steep a little longer.

  “Alright, kiddo,” Mother says to Liam. “Grab your bag. We’re out the door.”

  “Aww, why can’t I stay home?” Liam whines.

  “Let your sister have fun with her friends, sweetie,” she says, winking at me. “You’ll have fun with the Bauers. It’ll be just like when you see Grandma and Grandpa.”

  Liam’s face brightens. “Does Mrs. Bauer know how to make chocolate chip cookies?”

  “I’m sure she does, but you know if she doesn’t, I bet she’d love to have you teach her.”

  “See ya, Rosie!” Liam grabs his overnight bag and bolts out the door.

  “Wait, Liam! Your jacket!” Mother chases after him and the door swings shut behind her with a loud, echoing slam.

  For the first time since that ghostly hand on my shoulder, I’m utterly alone in the house
. And I don’t like it one bit.

  ***

  A crack of thunder jolts me awake right before the doorbell rings. The hard rain beats down on the house like a timpani. Aside from the lights in the living room, were I’d fallen asleep on the couch, the house is completely dark. I feel my way along the wall to the light switch in the foyer and the door handle with a few flashes of lightning to help me.

  Four soggy dogs stand on the other side of the door as the sheeting, horizontal rain pelts their backs. Letta, Eileen, Patty, and Shane are thrown through the doorway with a strong gust of wind and I close and latch the door behind them with difficulty.

  “Holy cow!” I practically have to shout over the creaks and groans of the house in the wind. “How long has it been raining?”

  “You’re kiddin’ right?” Shane asks. “It’s been comin’ down like that for at least an hour.”

  “I fell asleep. Are you guys okay? Do you want something warm to drink, or some dry clothes?”

  “I think we’re okay,” Letta says, shaking off her raincoat as the others do the same.

  “We Mainahs are prepared for weather like this,” Patty smirks, hanging her coat on the old fashioned coat rack by the door. Mother found it at a flea market on one of our excursions a few weeks ago. The others follow suit.

  “It looks like it,” I say. Letta bends over her bookbag, pulling out flashlights, disposable cameras, and cookies.

  “Cookies?”

  Letta shrugs. “I was hungry. I grabbed them on the way out. They’re really good. Mom made them this afternoon.”

  I bite into a chocolate chip cookie. It’s the best cookie I’ve ever had.

  “Wow, right?” Patty winks as she bites into one herself.

  “Don’t worry,” Letta assures me, “I left plenty for Liam. Mom was so happy to have a kid around again that she made, like, four batches. Don’t worry about him. He’s in Heaven tonight.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I owe you one.” Letta’s assurance makes me feel less guilty that Mother and I basically abandoned Liam for the evening.