Saving Brooksie

by Scott McElhaney

  “Well, if that were the case, the house would have gone to Rich when John died,” Carl added, “Instead of going to some far off distant cousin.”

  “The house went to my mom – John’s niece,” Eddie stated, swiveling back to his computer terminal, “But my mom didn’t want it, so she offered it to me and now it’s mine.”

  Carl shot a few staples at Eddie’s hair. Eddie brushed them onto the floor and then flung his staple remover at the irritant seated behind him.

  “Whatever,” Carl said, “Anyway, I’ll come to the party if you have it.”

  Carl watched as Eddie pulled up a web page for an old fashioned band. Eddie started scrolling down the page as he propped his chin up on his hand.

  “What are you looking for?” Carl asked.

  “Well, now you’re giving me the creeps about my house,” Eddie said, “I slept in my old apartment these last two nights.”

  Carl laughed as he tossed his stapler onto his desk. He slid the staple remover back onto Eddie’s portion of the cubicle.

  “You moved all your stuff into the house and you’re still sleeping at your apartment? What are you going to do when the lease on your apartment is up?” Carl asked.

  “I guess I’ll have to sleep in the house, but…” Eddie said, swiveling back around to face Carl, “Can I tell you something without you thinking I’m crazy?”

  Carl leaned back and gave Eddie a speculative stare.

  “Go ahead. I’ve always thought you were crazy anyway.”

  Eddie sighed, looking down at the shared desk top between them.

  “I heard olden day music coming from my basement last night.”

  “What?”

  “I was about to fall asleep when I heard old band music. You know – the kind of music those old waltzy bands used to play,” Eddie said, shaking his head, “I snuck about halfway down the stairs to verify that it was really coming from the basement and it was. I never made it any further, of course.”

  “Holy cow, man!” Carl hollered, covering his mouth with his hand, “It really is haunted?”

  “I checked the basement in the morning and there’s nothing to speak of down there. There are no speakers, radios, or anything of that nature. All I’ve got down there is the washer and dryer my parents bought me. There’s a water heater and a furnace, but otherwise the basement is empty.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Carl said, leaning back in his chair again, “You’ve got to stay there tonight and keep a bright flashlight ready. If it happens again, you’vegot to go down and find the source.”

  Eddie shook his head.

  “You have to,” Carl said.

  Eddie stared at the desk top and continued to shake his head.

  * * * *

  Eddie was ripping open the box containing all of his mismatched dishes and his limitedtime only restaurant cups when the music started. It was faint, but unmistakable. He wasn’t familiar with old-time band music, but everyone in the world knew the Blue Danube Waltz. The version he remembered most was performed by the Great Wakkorotti from the Animaniacs. Of course, that version included a lot of loud belches.

  He stood up and stared at the basement door. He had purposely left all the basement lights on, but he snatched the flashlight from the counter anyway. He stepped over to the door and inhaled sharply as he slowly turned the knob. He cautiously drew the door open and peeked down the stairs.

  The lights were still on down there. That was a good sign. If this was a horror movie, the lights would have gone out with the start of the ghostly music. The orchestra continued to perform the familiar piece as he cautiously made his way to the bottom of the stairs.

  He listened again, pinpointing the direction of the music. It was definitely coming from the back corner near the built-in shelving. For some reason – perhaps an irrational fear of alerting the ghosts - he tiptoed past the furnace and toward the empty shelves.

  He turned on the flashlight and aimed it at the wooden shelving unit. As he approached, the music became noticeably louder. Just then, he could hear someone talking nearby. He stopped abruptly at the sound of the ghostly voice.

  “She has to be home by 11:00. Her pop don’t care for me much, so you know how it is,” the voice grumbled from beyond the shelving.

  In that moment, Eddie took note of the shape of the basement. Something was missing. The basement should have been perfectly rectangular, but it wasn’t. It formed into something of an “L” shape.

  Why didn’t he notice that before? There had to be a room in the corner, but there was no door. He glanced quickly at the windows – two on the left and one on the right. There should be another window.

  Someone was in his basement! Some vagrant had taken up residence in his own house! In order to keep an element of surprise, he tiptoed back to the stairs and quietly opened the side door. He stepped out into the chilly evening air while easing the screen door closed. Keeping the flashlight aimed at the house, he ran around the back and over to where the other window should be. To his amazement, he actually located it. There were truly two windows on each side of his house.

  He stopped and inhaled sharply. He took a guarded step toward the window when a cat darted from beneath his back deck and startled him. Eddie glared at the trespassing feline as it rushed over into the neighbor’s yard. He finally exhaled as he took another step toward the window.

  He aimed the light at the dark window and peered into the room. The light was off – assuming of course that the room even had a light fixture. The suspicious room was empty with the exception of a vise mounted to a tall wooden table. The hidden portion of his basement was covered in dust and cobwebs like it hadn’t been accessed or used in years. That was when he noticed the door. The room was cordoned off from the basement by a dark, yet decoratively engraved door. It appeared to be constructed of an expensive wood with ornamental flowers engraved along the corners.

  That door, if he had his bearings correct, should have been located directly behind the shelving in the basement. That explained where the music was coming from, though not entirely. He stood up and paid a quick glance around his yard. Other than the vagrant cat watching him from the neighbor’s yard, he was alone. He shook his head and then rushed back into the house.

  He closed and locked the door behind him before starting back down the stairs. Music was still emanating from the back corner, though now it was a different song altogether. He approached the shelving again, but this time he noticed something different. The giant shelving unit wasn’t actually built into the walls of the basement as he had previously surmised. It was just a massively constructed unit, pushed up against the wall – and perhaps against the door.

  Eddie set the flashlight down and then grabbed a hold of the center shelf. He tugged, only moving the unit a centimeter or so. He pulled harder on the heavy unit, causing it to slide a little further. He tugged several more times, achieving about an inch of movement each time.

  Now able to squeeze himself behind it, he put his back to the wall and pushed the shelving unit. It moved about two more feet, giving him plenty of space to see the dark-colored door.

  He retrieved his flashlight from the floor and returned to the door. A ghostly voice spoke from the other side.

  “You got a smoke? I’m all out,” the person said.

  This was frightening. Someone was definitely standing on the opposite side of the door. The music and the voices were all too real. It didn’t matter what he had just seen through the window.

  “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. I left my Luckys in the car.”

  Whoever these people were, it sounded like they just walked away. He reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it. Since he had expected to find it locked, he was surprised when it opened and the music erupted louder into his basement. He peeked into the little workroom only to discover a massive dance hall littered with hundreds of people.

  “What in the…” he mumbled.

  The people were dressed like they were all performing in
the movie Titanic. A band of about a dozen people played their cellos, violins, saxophones, and French horns while the people danced under the vaulted, flower-strung ceiling. Dozens of people loitered along the walls, talking, watching, even kissing.

  Eddie looked back into his basement. This definitely explained the music, but it didn’t even begin to explain this massive dance hall. Not only did he somehow have an ancient dance hall in his basement, but it was large enough to put every wedding reception he had ever seen to shame.

  “You comin’ in or goin’ out? Make up your mind,” a female voice called from behind the door.

  He peered around to see who had just spoken to him. There behind the door, he discovered a woman who had presumably been pushed up against the door by her date. The way he continued to kiss her neck with no regard for Eddie suggested that he had almost interrupted a passionate moment – almost being the definitive word.

  “Sorry,” Eddie stated, stepping into the dance hall and allowing the door to nearly close.

  He stuck his fingers out to catch the door before it completely closed. The lady smiled at him as she glanced at his clothes. The man attached to her neck like a leech didn’t seem to distract her attention in the least.

  Eddie peeked into the crack of the door and still saw his basement waiting on the other side. In a shocking moment of bravery, or perhaps stupidity, he withdrew his fingers and allowed the door to close. Then he quickly opened the door again in fear. His basement awaited quietly on the other side.

  He smiled and nodded as he permitted the door to close again. He turned to the lady with the short, curly hair and offered her the same smile.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked, running her fingers through her date’s hair.

  “Beat it, kid,” her date growled, turning to him, “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

  He turned and decided to take a tour of his newly discovered basement. The band had just finished a song and then started into something a little faster. The wallflowers around him appeared to be excited over the change of tempo. People headed out to the dance floor as Eddie passed them by.

  He located another exit door and headed out into the bright lights of an amusement park midway. Lights were strung about from pole to pole, heading off toward a giant Ferris wheel a hundred yards away. The music of the dance hall was now replaced with the pump organ sound of a carousel nearby.

  The booth located immediately in front of him was proclaiming to offer ice cream sandwiches for only a quarter. Beyond the booth, set against the dark blue of the evening sky, arose two giant hills of a wooden rollercoaster. The full moon overhead reflected brightly off the white paint of the coaster.

  He could hear the screams of people on some unidentified ride nearby. He stared in amazement, bewildered by a park of this magnitude in an era such as this. His preconceived notions regarding the early twentieth century didn’t permit the existence of amusement parks, roller coasters, public kissing, or even those screams and laughter he heard in the distance.

  He strolled down the midway toward the roller coaster, hoping to get a better view of these ghosts on vacation. The animated people around him resembled nothing of the rigid people he recalled seeing in all those old photos in his high school textbooks. Most of these men could have blended in quite well into his own era, with the exception of a few who wore their hair greased down. The women had hairstyles that resembled some of the elderly women in his own time. Many wore their hair short. Some even had their hair matted down in wavy styles. He couldn’t recall the exact era of the Little Rascals, but that’s what these people reminded him of.

  It was during this mindless wandering that a man approached him and grabbed a tight hold of his arm. Fearful that he was being mugged, Eddie punched the man in his chest and struggled to escape from the criminal’s grasp. The man gripped his arm tighter and growled something at him.

  “You from ’89?” the guy asked.

  “What?” Eddie replied, still trying to reclaim his arm.

  “Nike doesn’t exist yet. What are you doing with a Nike shirt on and a pair of Reebok sneakers? Are you stupid?” he whispered.

  Eddie finally looked down at himself and then over at the greasy-haired man attached to him. The crazy person attached to him must have somehow identified him.

  “How’s my dad?” he asked.

  It took a moment for the word to register in his mind. Was Eddie roaming through an amusement park for the dead? Is this the ghost of Rich? Is all of this the result of having a dead body buried in his basement?

  “Are you Rich?” Eddie finally asked.

  “Yeah. Come on, how’s my dad doing? He got mad at me and stopped coming,” Rich stated.

  “He…” Eddie started, “Listen, Rich. I’m your cousin’s kid. I’m Jean’s kid - Eddie.”

  He stared at Eddie as though he had lost his mind. Then he shook his head slowly in disbelief.

  “Eddie? You should be 2 or 3 years old.”

  “This isn’t 1989. It’s 2009. I inherited your house and… well, I just discovered the weird door in the basement of your house,” he replied.

  Rich gasped and looked up at the sky. He continued to shake his head.

  “And my old man?” Rich asked.

  Eddie sighed as he glanced over Rich’s shoulder. A group of three young women were pointing discretely in his direction while making some hilarious comments to each other. After a couple of teenage giggles, they walked on toward the roller coaster. Eddie returned his attention to Rich, offering a placate smile and an apologetic shrug.

  “He passed away. Your parents divorced when you disappeared. Your mom’s still alive somewhere.”

  “Divorced,” he said with a chuckle, though it was obvious that he wasn’t amused, “She probably blamed him. She knew that Dad and I were coming here every weekend to hang out and ride the rides.”

  Rich shook his head. His focus was cast somewhere toward the Ferris wheel, though his thoughts didn’t seem to follow. He blew out a long breath before turning back to Eddie.

  “Oh, and welcome to Bethel Lake Park, by the way.”

  Eddie looked at the man in bewilderment.

  “Bethel Lake Park?As in the same lake down the road?”

  “Same exact place. It was an amusement park from 1895 through 1958. Quite a place, wouldn’t you say?” Rich said, holding his hands outward, “Started out as a trolley park.”

  “And this is real? You’re alive and we’re really here – like as in ‘time travel’ here?”

  He nodded with something of a grin.

  “So you and your dad used the door in the basement and came here on a regular basis?” he asked, “And your mom knew about it?”

  He nodded as he motioned for Eddie to sit on the nearby bench. Eddie picked up an empty cup from the bench and dropped it into the nearby trashcan. Then he sat down next to Rich.

  “Mom even came with us once, but she was too scared to ever do it again. She was afraid the door would stop working and we’d be trapped in the 20’s forever,” he said with a snicker, “And to an extent, she was correct.”

  Eddie’s jaw dropped as his stomach churned in fear.

  “Oh no!” Eddie said, springing from the bench.

  Rich grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him back to the bench.

  “The door still works. Trust me.”

  “You’re sure?” Eddie asked, still unable to shake the sudden rush of fear that had paled his face a moment ago.

  “Positive,” Rich replied, passing an invitational wave over the seat beside him, “Have a seat. You may want to listen to this.”

  Eddie stared down at the bench. When he didn’t sit down, Rich simply draped his arm across the back of the bench and continued.

  “Surprisingly, the door in the basement had a few hidden rules built into it. We didn’t know this, of course.”

  “Rules? How can there be rules for a wooden door?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms in front of him.


  “It’s obviously more than just a block of wood. I’m only telling you what I’ve discovered. I can tell you for certain that if you stay here past midnight when the Wisteria closes, you’re stuck here until at least 8:00 the next evening. The door only seems to work between 8:00 and midnight,” he said, “Which would explain why you only hear the music in the evening.”

  Eddie inhaled sharply as he stared at the other time traveler. How could Eddie be standing here discussing the rules of a magical door with his mother’s long lost cousin? He had spent the last twenty-three years living in the real world. Magical doors with secret rules didn’t exist in the real world.

  It didn’t matter what Eddie believed, however. He wasn’t asleep and this place appeared very real. The smell of cotton candy and popcorn was very real. The sounds of all the laughter and those energized screams were very real.

  “So, I take it you discovered all these rules the hard way?” Eddie asked, easing himself down onto the bench.

  Rich nodded with a chuckle. He clasped his hands together and looked down at the ground.

  “Dad warned me about another rule. He was… well, he was known to get very philosophical at times. People like him always seemed to float through the world with their heads in the clouds. I took much of what he would say with a grain of salt and maybe that’s why I didn’t believe him.”

  Eddie watched as a veil of sadness fell over Rich’s face. He seemed to be focused intently on the discarded gum wrapper by his feet.