Ghost House Revenge

by Clare McNally

  “Have you decided it was all a dream?” Gary asked hopefully.

  Melanie shrugged. “I suppose so. But even if it was a dream, I wonder who that woman was?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Gary said. “Everything is just perfect for us now, Melanie. Well never be afraid again.”

  His embrace tightened. “I promise you that.”

  As Derek drove along Houston Street on the way to the racquetball club, he thought of Gary and Melanie and the love they shared. It had been six years since Elaine’s death, and in that time he had never let another woman into his heart. Now he felt an emptiness deep within himself. He really needed to love again. A nice, smart, beautiful woman like Elaine.

  “No one’s like Elaine,” Derek whispered.

  But he did meet someone that very day. It happened when he was practicing his Z-shot. He was so mesmerized that he didn’t pay attention to anyone else around him, and as he dove for the ball, he slammed into a woman, knocking her to the floor.

  “I’m sorry!” he cried, turning quickly to look down at her. “I wasn’t—”

  He stopped talking for just a moment to look at her. She was a vision, a beautiful woman with high cheekbones and almond eyes. She was dressed in a pale green jogging suit, her long legs sprawled out in front of her. Looking at Derek through strands of dark brown hair that had fallen over her face, she held up her hand. Immediately, he broke from his spell and helped her to her feet.

  “You have eyes just like Ava Gardner,” he heard himself say.

  “What?” the woman shrieked with an embarrassed grin.

  Derek shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m a lot stronger than I look,” the woman said, “although I’ve probably got a nice bruise on my backside.”

  “I was working on my Z-shot,” Derek explained. ‘I wasn’t paying attention. Is my court time over?”

  “Well, no. I was watching you, and I guess I became so caught up that I didn’t realize I was walking in here. It was my fault.”

  “I hope you liked what you saw,” Derek said, “for the price you paid.”

  The woman smiled, showing brilliant white teeth. ‘I’ve been trying to get that damned Z-shot for weeks, but I can’t seem to do it. You make it look so easy.”

  “Well, I could show you,” Derek offered. “Here, stand like this. . . . By the way, what’s your name?”

  “Liza Crewe.”

  “I’m Derek Miller. Now, you hold the racket this way, and . . .”

  He showed her a perfect shot. Liza tried to copy him, in vain. Laughing, she tried again and again. While she practiced, she and Derek talked. Liza seemed very interested in Derek’s work as a therapist. In turn, she told Derek she was a dance student.

  Liza missed the shot for the tenth time, and sighing in frustration, she took a step backward.

  “See what I mean?” she cried, waving the racket a little. “I just can’t get it”

  “You’re aiming too low,” Derek said. “Here, like this.”

  “Well,” Liza said as she tried again, “I may not be the world’s best racquet ball player, but I know I can dance. You’re looking at the next Fonteyn.”

  “You’ll be better than Fonteyn,” Derek said, though he wasn’t quite sure who Fonteyn was.

  Liza practiced the Z-shot a while longer, until she did it right a dozen times in a row. She squealed with delight and turned to flash a grin at Derek. She was positively the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. For a moment he forgot about Elaine.

  “Do you live here in town?”

  “I have an apartment over a house,” Liza said. “I’d like to live in the city, but there’re just too many worries there. Belle Bay is so peaceful. It’s a nice place to come home to after a long day.”

  “You don’t seem like a worrier,” Derek said as they walked off the court.

  “Oh, I worry a lot,” Liza admitted. “I worry that twenty-eight is too old to take ballet lessons. And stage fright is my pet phobia, believe it or don’t.”

  “I don’t,” Derek said. “And I think it’s great you’re studying something you enjoy. Just one question?—why did you wait so long?”

  Liza sighed. “My father has been sick for many years, and I felt guilty about leaving him down in Florida. That, and the fact I couldn’t afford it. But dad’s better now, and he even paid half my tuition.”

  “I’m glad he did,” Derek said.

  They went off to their respective locker rooms. Thirty minutes later Liza reappeared wearing a lavender dress that showed off her figure beautifully.

  “Will I see you here again, I hope?” Derek asked.

  “Sure, when will you be here?”

  “Saturday morning?”

  Frowning, Liza shook her head. “Sorry, I have rehearsal. How about next Thursday?”

  “I’ll be here,” Derek promised.

  He grinned ear to ear all the way home, too caught up in his thoughts of Liza to notice the blond-haired woman watching him from the roadside.

  6

  Derek wasn’t the only one falling in love that day. In the cafeteria of Saint Anne’s school, Alicen was sitting with red-haired Jamie Hutchinson, much to her chagrin. Too shy to let the boy be her friend, she had tried to ignore him. But Jamie, who was naturally friendly, had followed her to the lunchroom every day to sit across from her. He tried to win her over with bags of cookies and potato chips, but Alicen always refused. She would stare down at her food, barely glancing up at him every once in a while.

  “You’re too weird, Alicen,” Jamie said one day. He took something out of his lunch bag—a huge chocolate bar—and pushed it across the linoleum table. “That’s for you. And don’t tell me you don’t like chocolate.”

  “I love chocolate,” Alicen said, gingerly touching the candy. She had never received a present from a boy before and didn’t know how to react. Her “thank you” was barely audible.

  “Don’t mention it,” said Jamie. “And listen, don’t leave it in your desk. It’ll melt.”

  Alicen nodded. Then suddenly she found her tongue. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Being so nice to me,” Alicen said.

  Jamie clicked his tongue. “Because I like you, silly. Can’t you take a hint?”

  “Why?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because I’m fat and—”

  “You’re not that fat,” Jamie said.

  Alicen started to protest, but he stopped her.

  “You really want to know why I like you?” he asked. “ ’Cause I knew from the minute you walked into our classroom that you weren’t a phony. You weren’t wearing designer jewelry, like all the other girls. I think those things are dumb.”

  “So do I,” Alicen said. She was surprised to find herself smiling.

  “Gee, you look pretty when you smile,” Jamie said.

  He was so charming that Alicen felt herself begin to relax. She learned in their conversation that his father owned a butcher shop in town, and when Jamie asked why she had come to Belle Bay, she told him that her father was a therapist. He became very excited when he learned she was living in the big white house on Starbine Court Road.

  “But I already told you that,” Alicen said.

  “No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “You just told me you were living with some girl named Gina.”

  “Her father’s my father’s patient,” Alicen explained.

  “Wow!” Jamie cried. “You live in that spooky old mansion? Did you know it was haunted?”

  “That’s silly,” Alicen said, taking a bite of her sandwich.

  “I heard stories,” Jamie said. “See, it was built a zillion years ago, and everytime anyone moved into it they either left in a hurry, or”—his eyes became very round, and he spoke slowly, teasing Alicen—“they died.”

  “You’re crazy!” Alicen cried.

  “Q
uiet down there!” the cafeteria monitor yelled.

  Jamie was snickering. Alicen frowned at him.

  “It is not haunted,” she said in a softer voice.

  “A bunch of people died there last year,” Jamie said, “And if you don’t believe me, it was in the papers.”

  “Liar!” Alicen hissed. “I’m not going to make a jerk out of myself by looking up a story that never happened.”

  She was glad when the lunch bell rang. She moved quickly away from him, but he caught up with her.

  “Hey, I’m really sorry I scared you,” Jamie said. “But it is true.”

  “Well, I’ll ask Mrs. VanBuren tonight,” Alicen said. “And I still think you’re lying.”

  But somehow, she was unable to ask Melanie. Dinner came, and still she hesitated. She was terrified that they’d make fun of her or that her father would become angry that she’d fall for such a story. Murders? In this beautiful old house?

  Still, she wasn’t quite so sure. . . .

  “Alicen, pass me the bread?” Kyle asked.

  Alicen started, jumping out of her thoughts.

  “What’s up?” Melanie asked. “Daydreaming?”

  “No,” Alicen said. She handed Kyle the bread basket.

  “I’ll bet she’s thinking about that Jamie Hutchinson,” Kyle teased.

  Alicen looked at him.

  “Kyle—” Gary said in a warning tone.

  “Who’s Jamie Hutchinson?” Derek asked.

  “Just a boy in my class,” Alicen said, embarrassed.

  “Well, I hope he’s just a friend,” Derek said. “You’re much too young for boys.”

  “How do you know about him, Kyle?” Melanie asked. “Do you eat lunch at the same time as Alicen?”

  “No,” Kyle said. “Jamie’s brother Mikey is in my class. He told me Jamie talks about Alicen all the time.”

  Alicen sank lower into her chair.

  “That’s so neat,” Gina said. “I wish a boy would talk about me.”

  “Somebody will, honey,” Gary said. “When that day comes.”

  Nancy, who had been concentrating on her dinner, held out her empty plate. “Mommy, I want more spaghetti!”

  Melanie took the plate from her daughter and went to the kitchen to refill it. She was surprised when she turned and saw Alicen behind her. Alicen shook her head when asked if she wanted more, too.

  “Uh, Mrs. VanBuren?”

  “What is it, Alicen?”

  “I just wanted to know if, uhm—”

  She shifted back and forth, staring down at her feet. “Oh, never mind!” she cried, hurrying back into the dining room.

  “Now, what was that all about?” Melanie wondered out loud as she watched the door swing shut.

  Alicen probably wanted to ask her something about boys but was too embarrassed. Considering she didn’t have a mother, she probably didn’t know what boys were all about. Derek didn’t seem the type to sit down with his daughter and talk about the facts of life.

  “The poor kid,” Melanie said, picking up Nancy’s dish. “It must be tough growing up without a mother.”

  Later, when Gina and Alicen were helping her with the dishes, she leaned over and whispered, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here. I can keep a secret.”

  “Okay,” Alicen said. She appreciated that, but still couldn’t bring herself to ask Melanie if the house was haunted. The more she thought, the more Alicen decided it was just a silly story.

  Until that night, when she heard the laughter again. . . .

  As before, she was in bed when the laughter started. She turned on her stomach and buried her head under her pillow. The laughter rose to a high pitch, filling her room. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any more—she had to convince herself that it was only a draft blowing through the grating in the floor. She climbed out of her bed.

  When she switched on her light, the glare blinded her, and she had to grope toward the grating. She was going to put her hands over it, to feel that there was air coming up through it. Then she would know there was nothing to fear.

  She dropped to her knees on the carpet and put her hands out. No draft, though she could still hear the laughter. What was that? Something made her crawl nearer, and she looked down into the grating.

  “EEEYYYAAA!”

  She jumped back, screaming. A hideous face had smiled up at her! Even as she stumbled to her bed and sat there crying, she could see it in her mind’s eye. The eyes had been blue and filmy, the smile revealing sharp teeth. There was blood caked on the blue-veined forehead.

  The door opened just then. Alicen looked up through tears to see her father entering the room, his eyes shadowed with concern.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, coming nearer to her bed. “Were you dreaming?”

  “I—I saw a face,” Alicen choked.

  She pointed to the grating in the floor. “I heard funny noises, and when I went over to look, there was this ugly face under there!”

  “Alicen, that’s just ridiculous,” Derek said. “You were dreaming.”

  Now Melanie was standing in the doorway. “I heard Alicen. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Derek said. “My daughter was just having a bad dream. I hope it didn’t wake the other children.”

  “They’re sleeping soundly,” Melanie said. She came up to Alicen’s bed. “Honey, what on earth were you dreaming about?”

  “It wasn’t a dream,” Alicen insisted, wishing they would just go away and leave her alone. “I saw a face staring at me under the floor grating.”

  “It was probably just a trick of the lights,” Derek said, standing. He had Alicen firmly by the arm. “Come over here and I’ll show you there’s nothing there.”

  “NNNNOOOO!”

  “Shut up!” Derek snapped. “You want to wake the other kids, like at the Laines’ house?”

  “I don’t want to go over there!”

  Melanie moved forward to intervene, but not quickly enough to stop Derek from dragging his screaming child to the floor grating. She stood stiffly, with her face turned away, an icy chill crawling over her.

  “Look at it, Alicen,” Derek ordered. “There is nothing there!”

  “No!”

  Derek, exasperated, twisted her arm a little. Alicen obeyed him at last and saw the grating was empty.

  “Dad, I know I—”

  “You were dreaming,” Derek insisted.

  Melanie felt something in her stomach go sour, something that told her Alicen hadn’t been dreaming at all.

  “What made you have such an awful dream?” she asked.

  “Jamie Hutchinson,” Alicen said. “He told me people were murdered in this house. Is that true?”

  Melanie gasped a little, then quickly said, “No no, of course it isn’t true. Now, you just lie down and go back to sleep. Would you like some tea or hot chocolate to help you relax?”

  Alicen was looking into Derek’s eyes. The warning in them made her shake her head.

  “No, I’ll be okay,” she said.

  Seeing the girl shivering, Melanie went to the bureau and pulled out an extra blanket. To her surprise, Derek took it from her and laid it over his daughter. Then he bent and kissed her forehead.

  “You’ll be all right,” he said.

  He walked with Melanie out to the hall, closing Alicen’s door very tightly before speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why she behaves so hysterically.”

  “It’s all right,” Melanie said, resisting the urge to tell Derek off for being so rough with the child. “I’m sure Alicen will forget all this by morning.”

  Derek waved his hand. “No. She’s had nightmares before this—about Elaine’s death. I was certain she was over them. Now she’s probably wakened your children.”

  “I told you they were sleeping,” Melanie said. She laughed, trying to ease the tension. “My kids sleep through wars.”

  “I just don’t understand her,” Derek said softly.

  “It’s
no wonder she had nightmares,” Melanie said. “After those stories Jamie Hutchinson told her about murders. What would possess a boy to do that?”

  “Showing off, I guess,” Derek said. But something in Melanie’s face told him there was more to it than this. Her eyes were just a little too wide, and her smile was just a little too forced.

  “Uh, there isn’t any truth to that, is there?” he asked. “I know it’s a stupid question, but—”

  “Derek, nothing bad ever happened in this house,” Melanie insisted. “Look, I’m really tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  With that, she hurried down the dark hallway. She got into bed, closed her eyes, and pressed herself close to Gary, as if his body could act as a barrier against the darkness. She pulled the covers clear up to her chin, not wanting an inch of her body exposed to the night. Then she buried her face in Gary’s chest and breathed deeply. Soon, out of sheer exhaustion, she fell asleep.

  Someone touched her arm. Melanie opened her eyes slowly and looking at the clock radio vaguely noted that several hours had passed. She closed her eyes again and snuggled closer to Gary. But when she heard her name, she opened them again and turned around.

  The dark-haired woman was standing next to her bed. “Come,” she said, taking Melanie’s hand.

  Without protest, Melanie rose from the bed and followed the woman from the room. She felt sleepy and yet keenly aware of the noises in the house. The wind blew outside, rattling the windows. Nancy was mumbling in her sleep, and Lad gave one yelp from the kitchen.

  But Lad was sound asleep when they entered that room. Once again, the light was shining brightly. Able to see her surroundings, Melanie felt stronger; her voice was somewhat harsh when she demanded, “What does all this mean?”

  The woman shrank from her words.

  “Please,” Melanie said, more gently, “I know you’re trying to tell me something. What is it?”

  “It is not over yet,” the woman said sadly.

  “What isn’t?” Melanie asked, though she felt something gnawing at her stomach. “Please tell me! I can’t fight what I don’t know!”

  “You must leave this place!” the woman cried. She looked over her shoulder, her brown eyes wide with terror. Then she turned back to Melanie.