by Trinity Crow
I felt a curious feeling of warmth flood me. The Camplings barely knew me but had stuck up for me as if we were really friends.
Cassie elbowed me, pulling my attention back to the binder. "Look at this! The house is fully furnished!"
Adam leaned over my shoulder and I felt little chills go up and down my spine at his closeness.
Stop being ridiculous, I scolded myself. He is not interested in you. He is not threatening you. Just breathe.
"That's cool," Adam admitted, “but that roof. . . There's no telling how sound the house is."
"Shows how much you know," Cassie put in. She flipped to the back of the binder. "There's an inspector's report for every house. I just showed you on the one you bid on," she said exasperatedly.
"You bid?” I said, amused after all his protests.
"She made me," Adam informed me. "It's just in my name so she can bid on more than one."
"Looks like the roof damage is recent. A freak tornado a month ago. But hey," she said, running her finger down the report. "No worries, you have your own storm cellar!"
Adam laughed, his breath ruffling my hair and the chills at his nearness subsided into a welcome warmth.
***
I laughed politely, but my eyes were fastened on the pictures Cassie was flipping through so blithely. I startled myself by reaching over and taking the binder to read it more closely.
“O…kay!” Cassie said, making a face. “You're welcome!”
I nodded absently as I read the abstract. Twelve rooms total, not including a screened-in back porch. The rooms looked frozen in time, with over-stuffed furniture and way too many knick-knacks. There were pictures of a garden laid out in paths and rectangular raised beds, all of it run rampant and wild. Overgrown tangles of vines spread across falling fences and trees clustered at edges.
I had seen enough. And hadn't I known from the moment I bought the tickets that this was the one? I found myself curiously reluctant to put down the binder, so I closed it and used the flat surface to fill out my information. Crisis struck as I stared at the blank lines. Address? Phone number? What was I supposed to put down?
My breath hitched and I bit my lip to keep from crying. Why did everything have to be so hard? Couldn't something go my way just once? The fear and stress of the past few weeks rolled over me and I bowed my head.
“Need help?” Adam asked quietly by my side.
I took a deep breath. I had no choice but to trust him. “I can't put down an address and I don't have a phone,” I admitted. “I left a. . . Uh. . . The thing is. . . my mom joined a cult when I was nine. I ran away two weeks ago when I turned eighteen. I can't go back. I won't go back. I'm almost out of money. I need this house.” My voice cracked shamefully as I laid my troubles out before these strangers.
A gasp beside me made me turn.
“Sorry. . .” the young girl next to me said with a heart-breaking smile. “It's just. . . It's just I know exactly what you're going through,” she said, looking down at her tiny handful of tickets.
“You were in a cult, too?” Cassie said rudely.
Cass!” Adam said. The girl's eyes filled with tears and she shook her long, dark hair. “No, of course not. I'm. . . I'm so sorry.” She backed away from us, looking terrified.
I made a move towards her, the fear in her eyes so exactly mirroring my own, but Cassie held up a hand.
“I'll go,” she sighed. “I'm the one who screwed this up.” She shot her brother a look. “You comfort your girlfriend.”
"Uh-oh,” Adam said with a grin as Cassie ran over to the girl and started talking. “We're busted.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, too miserable to share his laughter.
“Hey, hey.” He tilted my head up with a long, strong finger. “I'm not. Cassie should know better than to set me up. You saved me remember? The ice queen?”
I gave him a wan smile.
“Now, let me save you,” he said huskily. He leaned over me, impossibly close and scrawled his address and phone number on the top ticket. “There, that simple.”
"Five minutes, ladies and gentlemen," a voice blared over the loudspeaker. "Five minutes to place your raffle tickets. There will be no refunds on unused tickets."
"What?" Adam said, startled. "I thought we had till four."
"Tickets sales close at two," someone told us. "Drawings start at three. Dollar house raffle is at four. It's all about the media coverage!"
“Whoops! Trust Cassie to get it wrong," Adam said, with a headshake. He pulled another pen out his pocket. “Better give me half and write fast.” We divided the stack of tickets among us and hurriedly filled them out.
With dismay, I saw there was a small pile of tickets now in the Rickrack House box. I put mine on top. Adam stirred them with his hand and then laid his carefully on top with a wink. “Cover all the bases.”
We looked around for Cassie and saw she was now helping the pink-haired girl fill out tickets. The girl, too, had a frantic look, though she was trying to hide it. She finished with a distinct air of relief and went to put them in her chosen box when the man who had tried to stop me from bidding on Rickrack house slapped the lid shut and taped it.
“Time's up!” he said with a smug grin.
The girl looked horrified. “I… I need a house,” she said, her voice desperate.
My throat closed up, hearing my own fear in the girl's voice. So many sad stories, I thought turning blindly. So many of us running from something. Adam wrapped an arm around me and I leaned in to him, letting him comfort me.
"Hey," a dark-skinned guy said, leaning over the table. "Don't be such a jerk."
The man just smirked and added an extra piece of tape.
“Screw that," Cassie muttered. Grabbing the tickets from the girl's hand, she raced to the end of the table and dumped them in a box, shaking it wildly.
The man looked furious. “All of you..step back…NOW!”
The group of us, bonded by dollar houses and desperation, moved together underneath a nearby oak to wait.
The pink-haired girl was half-leaning on the dark-haired one that Cassie had snapped at. I heard her murmur: “I meant what I said, if I win and you don't, you can stay with me.”
“Same here,” the other girl said and they exchanged smiles.
“That's sweet,” Cassie said with a smile, her mood changing lightening fast, yet again. “You can crash with me if you need to, Abby.”
I stuttered a thank you, feeling overwhelmed by all the tension surrounding us. Introductions distracted us for a little while, but mostly the whirl of exchanging names went over my head. All I could focus on was the sick feeling in my stomach.
The sound of a loudspeaker made me jump.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll quiet down, we will now draw the winners from the auction houses. If your name is called, you will proceed to the clerk's table to sign the paperwork.”
“Oh!” Cassie yelled in excitement. “They're starting.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you. . .Captain Obvious!” Adam rolled his eyes and winked at me, making me laugh.
“Per the rules, one house per person. As new owner, you must live in the property for one year. You must take possession of the house within thirty days,” the man's voice continued. “The first house drawn for any given name is final. In the event a name is pulled a second time, we will redraw for that house until a new name is selected. For that reason, we will be pulling the more expensive homes first.”
There were groans from the others as they realized our houses would be last. The two girls, Tasmyn and Nikki, wandered off in search of a bathroom and Cassie, after checking that I wasn't something called vegan, ran off to find food.
Adam brushed off the edge of the curb and we sat, watching the crowd and listening to cheers of excitement as the hundred dollar home winners were announced. There was an easy silence between us and I was grateful for a chance to catch my breath.
“Listen,” Adam said after a long
while. “That whole cult thing. . .”
“I should have told you,” I interrupted.
“No,” Adam said, putting a finger to my lips. “You don't have to tell us anything.”
“That's your business,” Cassie said, plonking down on the other side of her. “We like you. When and what you share is up to you. Pizza?”
The smell hit me like a speeding truck. “Oh,” I said limply. “That smells so good.”
Cassie chuckled and handed me a piece on a napkin. I chewed and swallowed, feeling my face go soft with bliss. Pizza. It had been so long. I took the second piece Adam handed me, barely noticing when the others rejoined us.
Chapter 4
When the raffle moved on to the twenty dollar homes, Cassie leaped to her feet and clasped her hands together.
“This is my best bet for flipping,” she told me, her eyes big with apprehension. “Cross your fingers, toes. . .whatever.”
I stood up beside her to offer support. I was afraid Cassie might levitate off the sidewalk, so tense was the other girl.
“Lot number 37. Single family residence located at 446 Broadmoor Avenue. And the new owner is. . . Adam Campling.”
Cassie screamed like a siren, rising in pitch. I stumbled backwards to escape the full blast. She grabbed me and hugged me and then hugged Adam and then hugged me again.
“We won! We won!” she said, over and over, her eyes bright with tears. I smiled and let her scream. I hadn't realized just how much this meant to the other girl. I felt vaguely ashamed that I thought it was just a lark for her.
“Will Adam Campling, please come to the front and have proof of ID ready for the clerks?”
Adam had managed to pull Cassie off of him and was grinning like he had just won the house himself. He smiled down at his sister and gave her a big hug. “I gotta go,” he said, laughingly. "I want to hurry and be back to see the rest of you win.”
His gaze lingered on me and I blushed, but my eyes followed him as he walked away. The others crowded around us, offering her their congratulations. Another winner was called and other lucky person yelled in excitement. My stomach clenched, wishing it was over and done.
Cassie sat down on the curb with a bump. The excitement had drained away and she seemed curiously listless.
“Why is this town so empty anyway?" Cassie asked abruptly to no one in particular. “I mean fifty-nine houses in a town this small is a big deal. What's wrong with this place?"
The dark-skinned guy laughed. “You didn't do any research before deciding you might move here?”
“Yes!" Cassie made a face at him. "I mean, kind of. So what? Are you saying you did?”
“You bet! Finn Bishop.” He introduced himself and held out a card. “I want to start a haunted B and B and maybe do a tour with all our haunted dollar houses on it.” He passed me a card as well. “No need to decide now, just keep me in mind. It's a good way to bring in a little income.”
Cassie laughed, looking a little steadier. “Quite an entrepreneur!”
“That I am. But to answer your question, the textile mill shut down. There wasn't any work and people had to move away. The owner declared bankruptcy overnight and didn't even pay the workers their last check.” Finn paused. “They normally got paid once a month and then two days before payday, the owners shut down, chained the gates and moved away. So all these working families. . .here their bills came due and there was no money.”
“Wow,” Cassie said, “That sucks.”
I nodded in sympathy.
“You have to figure,” he went on, “That a lot of the murders, suicides, violence and rumors are because of how desperate the people were and how hard times got. No money for food, means stores start closing down. Gas stations went out of business last. First to go were luxury places, like florists, fancy coffee shops. The only thing that saved the town was low rent and the easy commute to the university.”
Cassie was once again smiling. “Yeah,” she said, her eyes alight. “That's what I thought! This place is perfect for me to live while I get through school. And property values are bound to go up with all the money the town is investing.”
Cassie seemed to be focused only on the good part of that story, I thought, uneasily.
"Were there a lot of, you know, what you said. . .murders, suicides and violence?" Tasmyn leaned over to ask, her face coolly reserved.
"That could happen anywhere," dark-haired Nikki put in before he could answer. "And anyway, not all the dollar houses have rumors of being haunted. The one I picked didn't."
"You're right," Finn said easily. "The tour will be for any house with a history that could give it a possible haunting."
"You'd fake it?" Cassie asked. She and Tasmyn shared an amused look.
"No, not exactly. I'd give the people a show," Finn protested. "I wouldn't need to lie, not flat out. These houses all have something that will pique people's interest." Finn looked around at our group and hesitated before speaking. “Besides, there's something else about this town that. . .”
The loudspeaker blared cutting off what he had been about to say. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, the event you have been waiting for. The one dollar houses.”
“The horror houses!” someone yelled and the crowd responded with yells and whistles.
“First up, is Lot Number 49. A commercially zoned structure located at 1220 Hemingway Boulevard.”
“That's me,” Finn said. He stood up and nodded to the group. “Don't forget to keep in touch!”
He looked at the pink-haired Tasmyn when he said it, but she looked away.
“And the winner is…Finnegan Bishop. Finnegan Bishop, please make your way to the front with your photo ID.”
Cassie clapped for him and he again looked over at Tasmyn, but she was looking at her phone. He shrugged and walked up to claim his prize.
A warm hand slipped into mine and I looked down to see Cassie close beside me.
“Oh, Lord," she breathed. “I'm going to die if they don't hurry.”
I squeezed her hand and opened my mouth to reassure her, but the loudspeaker roared again.
“Lot number 50, single family residence located at 302 Chessler Street. And the winner is …Cassandra Campling. Cassandra Campling, please…”
The rest of his words were drowned out by Cassie's squeals. She leaped up and down, screaming and yelling and then ran from girl to girl, hugging us. She raced away through the crowd who were all smiling at her exuberance without even a backward glance at me.
I felt the loss of Cassie's presence keenly. The crowd seemed too large and too loud all of a sudden. Tasmyn and Nikki stepped closer to me to show their support.
It took a while to settle the audience down, and then the raffle began again. Lot number 51 went to a couple and the relief on their face was painful to see. A low murmur had started in the crowd.
“Hollow Hill?” someone in front of us remarked. "I thought that place was condemned."
"They're nuts,” someone else said.
“No, just dirt poor. Look at her shoes!”
There was cruel laughter.
“Fifty bucks says they leave in a month.”
“You're on!”
"Lot number 52, single family residence located 2399 County Road 205. The historic Rickrack House. And the winner is. . .”
"Burn it down!” a hoarse voice hollered. "Burn down that ungodly place!”
“Holy crap,” Tasmyn said in a low voice. “Which house is that?"
"Mine,” I croaked the word out through a dry throat.
"Burn it! Burn it, I say!' the unseen man bellowed. "Thou shall not suffer a witch to live among you!"
The cops moved through the crowd seeking the protester.
“And the winner is…Abigail Jones.”
I jerked in surprise at hearing my name. Oh, my dear Lord, I had to go up there alone through all these people. I shot Nikki and Tasmyn a look as if maybe they could help me. Nikki, her black eyes liquid with emotion, gave me a
sympathetic smile.
“Abigail Jones, please make your way to the front with your…”
“Witch!”
The word broke over me like a blow, An old man with baggy clothes and wild tufts of grey hair clinging to his bony skull grabbed me by the arm. He put his face close to mine and the rotting smell of his breath washed over me.
“Buuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnn!” he roared. “Burn the evildoer!” He shook me back and forth, his fingers cutting through my blouse and shawl. “Those that mock the Lord shall die by fire and brimstone!”
I cried out and tried to pull loose, but he was too strong.
“Is she a witch?” someone asked in astonishment.
“Look at her clothes. I mean, she's dressed like a witch,” a girl's voice sneered.
“A grandma witch!” another voice cawed.
The cruel words hit me harder than the old man's blows which rained about my head.
“Let her go,” Nikki yelled suddenly. The tiny, dark-haired girl beat fiercely at the man. And then Adam was there and Finn. They closed in around me, shielding me from the crowd.
“I got you,” Adam whispered in my ear, his arms strong around me. "You're okay.”
I put my head down and let him lead me, trusting what he said was true.
***
The paperwork part blurred together as I dutifully signed all the X's marked in highlighter. I carefully signed the waiver saying I had read and understood the condition of the house and the unsavory history as was currently known by the town researcher and historian. The historian turned out to be the hateful man in the suit who had tried to take the binder from me. Rather than go over the document with him, I just signed.
I don't care anyway, I told myself. No matter what had happened in that house, I was going to make a fresh start. Even if it was so haunted that I ended up living in the chicken coop out back.
When I was done, I met the others underneath the same oak tree. Cassie was jumping up and down, hugging people and still squealing.
