Still, it didn’t explain why Noelle couldn’t recall where she’d been yesterday. That information should have been at the tip of her tongue.
“I’m sorry.” She paused to reflect on her inability to answer me. “I don’t remember.” Her jaw dropped as a haunted expression took up residence on her face. “How’s that possible?”
Downstairs, John Doe let out a high-pitched yelp, one that relayed surprise and fear.
Noelle met my gaze, her breath coming quick. “That sounded…off.”
I’d never heard J.D. make such a frightening sound.
6
I throttled down the staircase with Noelle on my heels. Seeing Lilah slouched on the couch with her empty glass held high above her head, I wondered if my mother was so incapacitated that she hadn’t heard John Doe cry out. I reached the first floor and, not seeing J.D. in the family room, I rushed toward the kitchen. It still stank in there, but I was so worried about our dog that I overlooked the scent.
“I’d appreciate a refill,” said Lilah.
At the outskirts of the kitchen, I didn’t see J.D., so I veered around the corner, only to find Noelle emerging from our mother’s bedroom with a shake of the head before entering and exiting the bathroom. She sighed, her face gripped with worry.
“What happened to J.D.?” I asked Lilah as I entered the family room, my voice hoarse but still loud enough to reach my mother in the other room. “Lilah! Did you hear him?”
My mother pushed herself up higher on the sofa and spun her head in my direction. “What?” She jingled her glass. “A refresher? Why, I’d love one. How very thoughtful!”
“Fuck your refill!” I shouted. “Where’s J.D.?”
“Whoa! Those poor manners will not be tolerated. Enter the bathroom and grab a bar of soap. You know what punishment awaits you!” She still raised her glass and shook it.
I wanted to charge her, swat the glass from her hand, pinch her cheeks between my fingers and demand that she concentrate on trying to recall hearing John Doe squeak.
“Chill, guys,” Noelle said, making her way toward the front door. “I’m going to check the neighborhood.”
Light poured in from under the door. I’d been so upset that I’d missed the obvious. After my sister left the house, she ran across the front yard and to the right. I darted off to the left and checked our miniscule fenced-in backyard that I needed to mow one last time before fall ended.
J.D. wasn’t in the yard, so I hurried to the other end of the house. Not seeing him anywhere in the vicinity, I scanned the perimeter, knowing he couldn’t have traveled far because he never ran, probably from achy joints.
I raced back to the house, stopped in the doorway, and peered in at Lilah. “Why did you leave the door open?”
She didn’t answer.
Had J.D. been whining to go out? If so, maybe the sound irritated my mother so much that she accidentally stepped on him, causing him to squeal. She may have let him out to avoid his whining.
“Hey!”
“I will not respond when you snap at me. Mind your manners, young lady.”
It pissed me off that she chose to drink every day, a decision that had already destroyed her career and our relationship, but she didn’t care enough to see the damage she’d done and how her decision had affected those who loved her.
I grabbed his leash off the wooden coat rack and said to Lilah, “I’m getting in the car to look around the neighborhood. I shut the door and shot over to my car.
An hour later, after having circled the neighborhood three times and searching the outlying areas twice, I returned home, no longer angry but incredibly worried.
Lilah lay asleep on the sofa, her face dug into the cushions, one leg strewn across the coffee table opposite her.
J.D.’s disappearance paired with seeing my mother passed out made me break down and cry.
A sob must have woken my mother because she stirred, groaned in anguish, and straightened up. Rubbing her eyes as hair sifted across her eyes, she clucked her mouth. “Such a pleasant nap. If you ever have the opportunity, I highly recommend them.”
“Unless that’s a public service announcement from Alcoholic’s Anonymous, I don’t give a damn.” Thankfully, she never blacked out or passed out, which would have made it difficult to awaken her. She merely nodded off, woke up, and started drinking again. Although her behavior scared me, I was glad she knew not to pass a certain limit.
It occurred to me that I shouldn’t appreciate that my mother hadn’t been worse off, which made me accept her drinking as almost acceptable in nature. And just like that, I was infuriated, this time with myself for making it so easy for my mother to live this way. I’d enabled her. And I only had myself to blame.
But I didn’t have any time or interest in having a pity party. I had more important matters to attend to. “Where’s Noelle?”
“She went door to door looking for the dog.” Lilah yawned and stretched her body wide. “Did you find him?”
“No. Why did you open the front door?”
“I didn’t.”
“The same way you didn’t hear J.D. squeak? It sounded like he was either afraid or in pain.”
“I didn’t hear him because I was asleep.” She grabbed her empty glass and stared at it. “Damn.”
“The front door was open,” I repeated. “Last I checked, J.D. couldn’t stand on his hind legs and turn a knob with his front paws. Noelle and I were upstairs. You were the only one down here, and doors don’t open by themselves. Now, I want you to think real hard: why did you open the front door?”
“I told you,” she said, grunting the words. “I did not open that door. Why would I do that?”
“Maybe because you accidentally stepped on J.D. and that’s why he yelped? And maybe you felt bad about that or got pissed off that he was interrupting your TV show, so you let him out? That way, you wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. But here’s the thing: you could have let him out in the backyard. So why did you open the front door in hopes that he’d leave and never came back?”
Not that it would happen. I’d left the front door open numerous times to enter and exit the house with groceries. In all that time, J.D. waited obediently by the front door, watching me while wagging his tail. So even if Lilah had opened the front door, what had persuaded J.D. that now was the right time to step through the threshold? Unless Lilah had pushed him out. But even then, I suspected he’d wander around the house and look in the window, waiting for someone to notice him and let him inside.
A disturbing idea trickled across my mind. Had she opened the door because the ghost had talked her into it? The same way it may have persuaded Noelle to attack Jake?
Neither recalled actions that were otherwise out of character for them. Yet both had used the Ouija board.
But so had I. So why hadn’t the entity tried to get me to do something that I wouldn’t remember later? Then again, maybe it had already convinced me to act in whatever fashion it wanted, and I suffered from the same amnesia that had affected Lilah and Noelle. That sent chills curving along my spine. I didn’t want to follow that line of logic because I’d never discover the truth, and thinking about it could only end up with me growing paranoid.
Lilah stood up, tottered for a moment, and when she regained her balance, she extended an index finger at me while gritting her teeth. “I did not step on the dog. I did not hear him squeak. I did not open the front door. I did take a nap. That rounds out the events of this afternoon.”
“A dog doesn’t just vanish from a house.”
“Would you prefer that I lie? Will that calm your nerves?”
“After you started using the Ouija board,” I started, “did anything contact you?”
“The one time it may have, you put an end to it.” Her lips morphed into a snarl.
“So you didn’t hear anything or see anything out of the ordinary?”
“No.” Her tone carried a hint of annoyance. “And what does that have to do wit
h John Doe?”
“Apparently nothing,” I said, unsure whether I believed her. On second thought, my mother was omitting details as well as affection…at least when it came to me. But as far as I knew, she’d never twisted the truth. Given those circumstances, I wanted to believe her, but intuition told me I shouldn’t.
Lilah stared at me with those emotionless eyes.
That strange expression pushed a knot of fear into my shoulders and made me put a palm across my eyebrows to shade my face from her image. It took a few heavy breaths to compose myself. When I recovered, I pulled my hand away from my eyes.
My mother now stood halfway inside the kitchen...about fifteen feet away. She’d moved without eliciting the slightest sound.
“Lilah?” I asked, feeling an icy chill around me. “Are you okay?”
She swayed in place. Ever so slightly, a smile tipped her lips upwards, even if no other muscle in her face moved.
I backed up a step, not because I thought she’d attack me, but because her behavior was deeply unsettling. Nevertheless, my mother stood before me, even if she was lost inside the darker, more nefarious individual who had relied on alcohol to get through each day.
Lilah spun on her heels in a robotic manner and walked toward the couch. When she stood before it, she crouched and fell onto the sofa. She stretched out along its length, laid her head onto an arm pillow, closed her eyes, and within five seconds began snoring.
What the hell just happened? I entered the front room and stared at her sleeping figure.
I remained at the outskirts of the kitchen to regain my breath and courage. I’d never seen anything so bizarre in my life, although the last two days held quite a few strange occurrences. Likewise, I’d never before seen anyone sleepwalk, but this seemed more unusual than mere sleepwalking.
Had drinking so much alcohol made her body react this way? Although I’d studied the effects of alcohol addiction because I feared for my mother’s health, I hadn’t seen anything about alcoholics sleepwalking in my research, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist.
Based on this strange turn of events, I couldn’t rule it out. Different people reacted in different ways to the long-term effects of substance abuse. In those cases, however, I’d discovered they had difficulty reaching REM sleep, resulting in sleep disorders that could cause hallucinations. My mother might have seen something that didn’t exist.
I couldn’t imagine seeing visions that appeared out of nowhere and have no idea how they’d arrived in my home. I could only hope my mother hadn’t suffered from that side effect. After a few moments, I found enough courage to move my feet, which felt like they’d been glued to the ground. With a little effort, I pushed them into motion, made my way to the sofa, and looked down at my mother.
With both palms pressed together and lying under her right temple, which lay against a pillow, Lilah revealed a slight smile as though she’d discovered a secret no one else had the luxury of knowing. She looked harmless, fragile even.
I stared down at her. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I remembered the times before Dad had died that she’d taken Noelle and me roller skating or swimming, to the zoo or museums in the city, to movies and plays, or even just treating us to an ice cream cone or a meal at a fast food joint. I didn’t want to shake those memories away. I needed them. Granted, she made a point of giving Noelle attention, while withholding it from me. But still, had I not memorized every detail from these outings, I wouldn’t be able to look at her without wanting to wring her neck.
With her eyes still closed and her breaths coming with a regular rhythm, Lilah reached out, gripped my left arm and tugged me toward her. Her head leaned forward, her eyes batting open as she grinned at me.
I drew back, gasping for oxygen, unable to comprehend what she’d done.
Lilah retracted her hand. Her mouth returned to a flat expression. She closed her eyes and fell asleep once more.
I stared at her, shocked at the unexpected movement. How could she have known where I stood and grabbed me without even looking my way? It’s not as if her arm wavered in the air before she latched onto me. She’d struck like a snake. I waited for her to react again, but she stayed motionless.
Lilah took in soft breaths and let them out without the least bit of trepidation. She adjusted her body, and a perky smile came to her lips, as though dreaming of bottles of vodka lined up in the cabinet above the stove, all with knobs easily opened by a swift turn of the wrist.
I backed away from her and tiptoed along the rug, making my way around the sofa and toward the stairs, unwilling to do anything that might awaken her.
Soft giggling came from near the sofa.
My shoulders hitched at the sound. Having prepared to drop my right foot on the first step of the staircase, I swung my head toward her, listening. I stared at the couch, waiting for my mother’s head to pop up from behind the cushions.
Silence.
She didn’t move.
Neither did I, but I kept staring in that direction, expecting her to shift in place, expecting her to say something. It didn’t happen. I waited a full minute before making my way up the stairs. I took each step tentatively, expecting Lilah to utter something or begin giggling again.
It didn’t happen.
I rounded the banister and crept behind the wall, so I could see her below.
The door opened and Noelle, with wide eyes and her hair frazzled, stormed into the house before slamming the door shut behind her. “Is he here? John Doe? Did he turn up?”
My mother woke up. Catching sight of my sister, Lilah scrambled to her feet. “He hasn’t returned to us.” She grabbed the empty glass on the coffee table and started for the kitchen.
“Where could he have gone?” asked my sister.
“I’m certain he will return soon enough,” Lilah said. Glasses clinked together for a moment until something solid thumped against the counter. Liquid splashed into a glass, followed by ice cubes. A second later, my mother released a long, satisfied sigh and returned to the family room.
Noelle purchased liquor for Lilah on a regular basis. We’d clashed on this subject numerous times. I sold Lilah’s car to help pay our mortgage, which also had the added benefit that she couldn’t get in a car while drunk. Nevertheless, Noelle kept Lilah fully stocked with liquor to maintain their relationship, perhaps secretly hoping that she’d get sick of getting trashed every day and ask for help.
Lilah started toward the family room again. She clumped her fingers together on one hand, placed them to her smiling lips, and with a kiss, blew her fingers away like someone would do upon seeing a delicious meal and saying, “magnifique”. Her hand rattled as she lifted it to her lips again and swallowed, once, twice, a third time.
At the top of the stairs, I moved around the corner to the left so they couldn’t see me. Both had acted strangely of late, and this was the perfect opportunity to see how they chatted in my absence.
My sister pushed her hair down across her head. Her eyebrows darted upwards in fright. “Hopefully, Jocelyn finds him.”
Lilah sniffed as if that question didn’t dignify an answer. “What significance does he hold in your heart? You wanted that dog. Do you care for it? Feed it? Bathe it? Walk it? No. I do. If your sister hadn’t informed you that John Doe had gone missing, would you have even noticed?”
Disgusted, Noelle looked her up and down. “Why are you acting like this? J.D. is gone. A car could have hit him. He might be mangled and whimpering all alone while some drunk driver steps on the gas and tears down the street.”
“Daddy issues, have we?” asked Lilah with a spiteful tone and a wicked little grin.
My mouth fell open. How could Lilah talk like that about her deceased husband? She’d had so much respect, admiration, and love for him that…to hear her speak about someone who meant so much to her tore me up inside.
My mother spun toward Noelle. “Or perhaps you feel culpable for wanting that old dog. Tell me, daughter, do
you feel guilty?”
“What’s gotten into you?” asked Noelle as she approached our mother, folding her arms across her chest as though doing so to protect herself. “This is serious.”
“I’m well aware of that fact,” said my mother, a look of disgust on her face. “Jocelyn has set blame upon me for reasons I cannot comprehend. If you’d seen the look of hatred she directed my way…well, I wish I’d been guilty of permitting John Doe to leave the house. At least she would have someone to blame.”
The depth behind Lilah’s response hit like a needle of adrenaline to the heart. It seemed she had no problem telling Noelle that she cared for me, but what made it so difficult for her to tell me directly? Had she seen me up here watching them? Is that why she let those words slip past her lips? Because I was watching?
If so, was this all a ruse to get me to believe that she cared about me? But she didn’t look my way or even give the impression that she saw me watching them. I became more aware of my surroundings, and I wish I hadn’t moved because I noticed that the noxious scent in the house had reached intolerable levels. Although it seemed to emanate from the kitchen, I wanted to check this floor to be certain.
I went into my room, and thankfully, the smell hadn’t snaked its way there yet. Something about that seemed odd. I swept across the corridor and checked the bathroom and Noelle’s bedroom. The disgusting scent wasn’t in either place. How had it traveled all the way from the kitchen and up the steps so quickly?
I returned to my hiding spot and looked below.
Lilah and Noelle were huddled together, arms thrown across each other’s backs as if they were two boys in the schoolyard, coming up with a plan to devastate the defense during their two-on-two game of basketball.
I’d stepped away for one-minute max, so how had they smoothed over their argument in that time? I couldn’t explain their behavior, but I watched them for a while, hoping to catch a snippet of whatever they whispered, but I couldn’t hear anything.
The Possessed Page 6
