by Ray Garton
When Lily saw the house she had already seen in her visions, she was overwhelmed for a moment by a vertiginous sense of deja vu. An almond-colored Dodge Durango was parked in front of the closed garage. She knew that behind the house stood a swing set and a slide, and that probably in the house somewhere there was a teddy bear with a winding key sticking out of its back, a bear that played Brahms’s “Lullaby” when wound. She had some of the pieces, but was not yet able to put them together.
As Claudia slowed the Beetle to a stop, the front door of the house opened and two women came out. The first was a tall blond woman in jeans and a red sweatshirt whom Lily recognized immediately as Jenna Kellar. The other was a short, plump, busty woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail—Lily had never seen her before and paid little attention to her. Jenna Kellar noticed them first as she and the brunette walked to the front gate, and a worried look darkened her face.
Lily opened the door and got out of the Beetle before Claudia could kill the engine. Her eyes stayed on Jenna Kellar.
“Hello,” Lily said as she neared the gate wearing her biggest smile. “You’re Mrs. Kellar, right? Jenna Kellar?”
She opened the gate and stepped through, nodding. “Are you from the newspaper? Because I’d rather not—”
“No, my name is Lily Rourke. I called you yesterday, from Mt. Shasta. Your husband, uh ... he didn’t want to talk to me.”
“That was you?” Jenna said. She reached out her hand, and Lily shook it gingerly. “I’m sorry about that. We’ve been ... well, things have been very’ strange around here. This is my friend Kimberly Gimble.”
Still smiling, Lily shook Kimberly’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you,” then turned back to Jenna. “Mrs. Kellar, you have a swing set and a slide in your backyard, don’t you?”
Jenna frowned. “Yes, we do. How did you know?”
“I told you, I’m psychic. I’ve been having visions about you. You have a son. His name is Miles, right?”
Jenna’s eyes widened. “Yes. What about him?”
The front door opened and a man came out wearing a baggy gray sweatshirt, blue sweatpants, and slippers. The left sleeve of his sweatshirt dangled at his side, empty. His brown hair was spiky and mussed, and he looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. Jenna glanced over her shoulder when she heard the door shut and saw him coming toward the gate.
“What about my son?” Jenna said, quietly and urgently.
Lily said, “I have a powerful feeling he’s in some kind of danger. I think you’re all in danger, frankly, but your son most of all. Something in your house—”
“What’s up?” the man said as he came through the gate. His weary, puffy eyes moved back and forth between Jenna and Lily, but he faced his wife.
“David, this is Lily Rourke.”
He turned to her and frowned. “Lily Rourke?”
Lily sensed a wave of confusion from him—not about her name, but a more general confusion roiling inside him. He was preoccupied, disturbed by something.
“She’s the one who called us yesterday,” Jenna said. Before he could say anything, she continued quickly. “I think we should listen to her, because she thinks Miles might be in some kind of danger.”
“I told you not to call back,” David said. “I didn’t realize I had to be specific about not dropping by the house.”
“Mr. Kellar, if I could just talk with you for a few minutes—”
He turned to Jenna. “Go in the house.”
Jenna said, “David, I think we should listen to her.”
“We are not listening to any psychics!” To Lily, he said, “Get back in your car and go. You’re not welcome here. If you show up again, I’ll call the police.”
Kimberly stepped over to Jenna and gave her a brief hug. “I’ll call you later today, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks for coming by.”
“I mean it,” David said, “get out of here now.”
“All right, all right,” Lily said, taking a few steps back, “I’m not going to argue.” She turned to go back to the Beetle as Kimberly walked by her and whispered, “Follow me.” Lily walked around the Beetle and smiled at the Kellars, who stood together by the gate. Jenna returned the smile, but David did not. She got into the car as the front door opened and an old woman in a pale green housedress stood in the doorway. Lily wondered if the fat man she had seen lived with them as well. She did not think so—there was something different about him, something very wrong.
“Follow the SUV,” Lily said as the Durango backed away from the garage.
Claudia followed the Dodge down the long driveway and turned left onto Starfish, back the way they had come. In town, Kimberly pulled over and parked in front of a small strip mall. Claudia parked beside her as Kimberly got out and came to Lily’s side of the Beetle. Lily fingered the button and made the window hum down.
Kimberly said, “I think we should talk.”
David slammed the front door. “You see what’s going to happen now?” he said. “We’re going to hear from every nut-Job psychic and fortune-teller in the country.”
Martha had retreated to the kitchen as soon as she heard David shouting. Jenna went into the living room, fingers stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans, and paced. David came in and sat down in the recliner.
“You’re making a big mistake, David,” she said, fighting to keep her voice low. She was angry too, but she held it in. “We need help, and that woman was offering it. She said we’re in danger, that Miles is in danger—she knew his name. I believe her, because there’s something in this house.”
“And who told you there was something in the house?” he shouted. “It was one of those damned mediums! They’ve got you so worked up, you’re starting to believe their bullshit.”
“Before I ever called a medium, I saw things that made me believe there’s something in this house.”
“Look, I’m not in the mood to fight about this. All I’m saying is—no more of this shit. No more psychics or mediums or—”
Jenna put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath before interrupting. “You’ll just have to learn to deal with it, David,” she said firmly, “because I’ve already called someone. The Binghams, Arthur and Mavis. They’re an older couple. They run the Phoenix Society of Paranormal Research in Arizona. They don’t charge anything, not a dime. They’re going to be here this weekend to check out the house.”
“Check out the— You mean to tell me these people are going to come here all the way from Arizona and they aren’t going to want money?”
“Two people have told me, independent of each other, that there’s something in this house, that we’re in danger because of it, and that Miles is in danger most of all. You want to ignore that?”
“To ignore it would give it too much significance. I’m going to pretend you never said it and hope all this passes, like a bad mood or something.”
“David, I think you know something’s wrong, but you won’t admit it because it would mean that you’re wrong, and you just can’t stand to be wrong. Am I right? You know something’s going on in this house.”
He averted his eyes a moment, then shook his head and said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well, whether you like it or not, the Binghams will be here tomorrow.”
“You can call and tell them not to come, or they can make the trip for nothing—it’s up to you, but they’re not coming into this house.” He turned and left the living room.
Jenna said to his back, “Well, I plan to let them in.”
She heard the stairs creak as he went up. Her hands trembled and she noticed she was clenching her teeth. She sat down on the couch and tried to think herself out of being angry, tried to relax. David was in pain, on drugs, and he hadn’t slept well—
Because he was out driving around in his sleep last night! she thought.
—and on top of that, he was probably boiling with worry inside because he knew it would be a while before he could w
ork again. And David had always resisted anything that smacked of religion or spirituality. It was a racket across the board, as far as he was concerned. It was perfectly natural for him to react so strongly to something like this. But surely it couldn’t last. He had to come around, just as she had. She had a feeling he was already having suspicions, but it would take something big to make him admit it—she just hoped that something didn’t involve anyone getting hurt, especially Miles.
Martha came into the living room and whispered, “You did the right thing.”
Jenna looked up at her mother and appreciated her smile. “You think so?”
Martha nodded. “He’ll think so too, eventually.” She smiled. “How about I make some corn bread for lunch?”
In a small donut shop in the strip mall, Lily sipped coffee while she listened to Kimberly Gimble.
“Normally, I wouldn’t tell you any of this,” Kimberly said. “I mean, I don’t know you. But Jenna mentioned your call and said she wished she could’ve talked to you alone. So I think she’d want me to tell you everything, because I don’t think David is going to let her.”
Kimberly told them everything she knew, paying particular attention to the seance she had attended in Jenna’s living room. When Kimberly was finished, Lily said nothing for a long time.
Lily was a psychic, not a medium. While she often received information about the dead, she’d never made any attempt to contact them directly and did not even know if that was possible. She knew, after listening to Kimberly, that these visions were taking her into unfamiliar territory.
“Now that Jenna knows she’s not seeing her dead son,” Lily said, “what exactly does she think she’s seeing?”
“She has no idea. But she’s not the only one.”
Kimberly told them about the things Martha had seen in her bedroom at night, and that she was now sleeping on the couch, and about the fat man Miles had seen coming out of his bedroom floor.
“Fat man?” Lily said.
“They assumed it was a nightmare, but now she doesn’t think so. She lets him sleep with his overhead light on because he says the fat man only comes in the dark.”
“Only comes in the dark,” Lily muttered. “So there’s no fat man living with them.”
“No. Did you think there was?”
“I wasn’t sure. I’ve seen a fat man in my visions. In the house. And he’s a threat. Especially to the boy.”
“Is he ... well... a demon?” Kimberly said.
Lily’s instinct was to roll her eyes, but she knew Claudia would disapprove of that, and she didn’t want to lose an ally like Kimberly Gimble, so she smiled instead. “This isn’t my area of expertise, I’m afraid,” she said. “Do you know who lived in the house before the Kellars?”
“Jenna’s father. She inherited it from him. She never knew him, though.”
“He had other children while he was living in the house?”
“I don’t think so, no. Jenna said he lived there with his parents until they died, and then he lived there alone.”
“Then why is there playground equipment in the backyard?” Lily said.
“There is?”
“A slide and a swing set.”
“How do you—” Kimberly leaned back in her seat and cleared her throat with a small cough. “I’m sorry— never mind.”
“Do you know her father’s name?”
“No.”
“Could you find out?”
“Sure, I guess so.”
“If it’ll cause trouble for Mrs. Kellar, don’t mention that I want to know. Just tell her ... I don’t know, tell her you’re curious, that you’re wondering if you might have known him when he was alive.”
“I can do that.”
“Then call Claudia’s cell phone.” She turned to Claudia and said, “Please give her your number.”
Claudia took one of the bookstore’s business cards and a pen from her purse and wrote the number on the back. She handed the card to Kimberly.
“Call as soon as you know,” Lily said. “And if it’s not too much trouble, could you find out right away?”
“Sure.” She stood and smiled. “You’ll hear from me soon.”
While they waited for Kimberly to call, Lily directed Claudia to Eureka’s Old Town. Claudia parked the Beetle in a small lot and they strolled the streets, looked into shop windows, and occasionally went inside to browse.
Lily was stroking a beautiful green cashmere scarf in The Irish Shop when Claudia’s cell phone chirped. Claudia answered, then handed the phone over to Lily, who stood between the display of scarves and another of sweaters.
“Her father’s name was Leonard Baines,” Kimberly said. “She knows nothing about him, and her mother doesn’t know much more.”
“But he lived in the house most of his life.”
“Yes, along with his parents, until they died. He killed himself nine months ago.”
“Thank you, Kimberly. I’d like to keep in touch, if that’s all right with you.”
“Sure, if you’d like. But Jenna’s already called somebody to come help them with the house. She said David doesn’t like it, but she’s going to insist. They’re coming tomorrow.”
Lily closed her eyes a moment. “The Binghams. Arthur and Mavis Bingham.”
“Yes, the Binghams. Do you know them?”
“I know of them.” Having seen the Binghams in one of her visions, she was not surprised to learn they were involved. But they were only going to make things worse. Lily suspected they were going to find something in the Kellar house for which they were not prepared, something much more than the alcoholics and emotional basket cases to which they’d become accustomed. “I’m going to hand you back to Claudia so you can give her your phone number.”
Claudia quickly dug around in her purse for a pad and pen.
“Thank you for your help,” Lily said. She gave the phone to Claudia, then turned back to the scarf she’d been stroking. She turned the name over in her mind: Leonard Baines.
“Okay, I have her number,” Claudia said as she put her phone back in her purse.
“Good. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going now?”
“The police station.”
“Police station? Why?”
They left The Irish Shop and headed back up the street toward the parking lot where they had left the Beetle, talking as they walked.
“I want to know if the police had any trouble with Leonard Baines while he lived in that house,” Lily said.
“What makes you think they’ll tell you?”
“I’ve dealt with the police before. There’s a chance they might even have heard of me here.”
“Heard of you? Why?”
“Back when I first moved to Mt. Shasta, I helped the police in Redding find a guy who was stabbing young women to death. A few years later, I helped police in Dunsmuir stop a series of rapes that were taking place in the area. That sort of thing has happened a few times over the years. Cops talk, word gets around. Sometimes they’ve heard of me, sometimes they haven’t.”
“You’ve never told me any of this before.”
“You’ve never asked.” Lily was getting winded. “Honey, I’m too fat to walk and talk at the same time. Let’s wait till we get to the car.”
They waited a moment at a corner for the light to turn green before stepping out into the crosswalk. Halfway across the street, Lily smelled bananas. The periphery of her vision began to flash, as if she were flanked by electric-blue strobe lights.
Lily grabbed Claudia’s hand and picked up her pace.
“What’s wrong?” Claudia said.
Lily stepped up onto the sidewalk on the other side of the street and led Claudia to a bench at a bus stop on the corner. Lily dropped onto the bench, and Claudia perched on the edge of it beside her.
“I can feel one coming on,” Lily said. “Please sit with me.” She continued to hold Claudia’s hand, but her grip loosened as her head fell back and she slip
ped away.
Eyes still closed a couple minutes later, Lily heard a car horn honk and the sound sent a spike through her skull. She became aware of other sounds around her—traffic, footsteps, voices. The throbbing pain in her head was so bad, she did not want to open her eyes. She felt Claudia’s hand still holding hers.
“Has anyone noticed?” she asked quietly before opening her eyes.
“No.”
Lily groaned as she sat up on the bench, put a hand to her temple. Her stomach churned and she put her other hand over her mouth and took a couple deep breaths, fighting the urge to vomit.
“You want me to get the car and come pick you up?” Claudia asked.
Lily nodded once and she took off at a run. A couple minutes later, Claudia pulled up at the curb on the corner, reached over, and opened the passenger-side door. Lily wavered a little when she stood, got into the car, and pulled the door closed.
“Do you still want to go to the police station?”
“Take me back to the motel. Quickly.” She leaned her head back. “We’re running out of time. That boy’s in danger.”
“Do you know what kind of danger yet?”
“Unless I can intervene somehow, he’s going to be killed.”
Less than ten minutes later, Lily entered their room at the Motel 6 and went straight to the bathroom to vomit. Afterward, she brushed her teeth, rinsed with mouth-wash, then got a pill from her purse and took it with a glass of water. She took her notebook and a pen from her purse and sat on the edge of the bed. In spite of the throbbing pain in her head, she jotted down a few lines of notes about the vision she’d had in town, including two names that had come to her—the names of two little boys whose agonizing cries still remained vivid in her mind: Billy Enders and Jonah Wishman. Then she stretched out on the bed with a groan.
