Organza’s no-holds-barred leap onto Reece’s back seems to break Obidiah’s hold on him and he comes staggering backward as Organza slips off and lands lightly on the floor. She peers into his face with a sisterly concern that makes my heart twang. “Are you okay, Reece?”
Crash. Something big hits the floorboards in the living room and the sound vibrates up the hallway and runs under our feet. I hear my own gasp, a big suck-in of air, as I whirl around.
“Jesus Christ.” Liam, who seems to have suddenly pulled himself together, runs down the hallway to the living room even though I’m yelling at him not to go. Of course I follow him, but not before grabbing Reece and Organza’s hands and dragging them along with me. I’m not going to just wait here like a good little girlfriend while my boyfriend runs headfirst into mortal danger or whatever the hell it is that’s making the noise out there.
Nostradamus is lying on his side next to the TV, as casual as you please. Just taking a nap there while the TV plays re-runs of Love Island to no one and a demonic spirit tries to take over the house. The rocking horse’s teeth are barred at us and its wild, crazy eyes are staring up at the ceiling.
“What the actual fuck?” Liam comes to a screeching halt and I nearly barrel right into the back of him. “What the hell is going on in this house?”
“Liam, what happened in the bedroom? What did you see?” I have to know even though I think I can guess. I’m about willing to bet my back teeth that he saw Obidiah and his red, glowing eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Liam snaps. “We’re leaving. We’re not staying here a minute longer.” He wrenches the front door open and I’m right there with him, pulling Organza and Reece along behind me.
Officer Leonard is standing at the gate, along with our bags of groceries, and his cruiser is parked on the street behind him. He has his hands on his belt and his legs are astride. He looks mean and I get another awful feeling of deja vu. “Doc Wentworth told me you kids have brought the measles to Gypsy Creek. Get back inside. You ain’t going nowhere. There are a lot of folk who don’t believe in vaccinations here and we don’t want the infection to spread.” He touches a hand to the gun in his holster and I know he sees himself as some heroic sheriff guarding the vulnerable citizens of his Wild West town.
Liam jumps down off the step and marches down the path, as if he thinks that cops really are there to serve the people. “You have to help us. There’s something in the house.”
“Stop right there,” Officer Leonard warns, hurriedly stepping back as Liam approaches. “Git away now, son. I don’t want to have to use this gun.”
I see Liam’s steps falter then he quickly veers off and pretends he was walking down there to collect the bags of groceries all along. “Just getting our supplies. Do you want us all to starve?”
“No, I don’t want you to starve. You take those groceries back inside and shut the door, nice and easy now. You’re welcome to come back out once the Doc has given the entire family the all clear.”
“What if we don’t?” I can’t help myself. I have to question him. This feels too much like talking to Sheriff Milroy through the bars of the padlocked gate at Cemetery Hill. Organza asked me if we were going to do this all over again and my answer is no, not if I have any say in it.
Officer Leonard pushes his hat back on his head and glares at me. I know he’s wondering why I’ve dared to answer him back but I don’t see why I shouldn’t. He’s practically just told us we’re prisoners in our own home and why shouldn’t I question that?
“Then you might find yourself in a whole lot of trouble, girlie,” he growls.
Yeah, yeah. I should have shut my mouth then. But I don’t. “Are you telling me you’re going to stand outside our gate for the next ten days and make sure we don’t leave?”
He shifts his feet and glances down the street, as if he’s hoping someone will come rescue him from this back-chatting annoyance that he never invited into this town in the first place.
“Well?” Yep, I still can’t shut that mouth of mine.
“Someone will always be out here. Might not always be me, but someone will. Now git back inside before I really lose my temper.”
Liam has arrived back at the step with the bags of groceries. “Do as he says, Ellie,” he mutters. “We’ll talk inside.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Organza unpacks the groceries and puts them away while Liam helps Reece to drag Nostradamus back into his bedroom. I keep myself busy, picking up the discarded tissues from the floor and straightening the cushions on the sofa. I don’t let my eyes wander back up the hallway just in case I see something up there that I don’t want to see.
It hurts to find ourselves back in this same situation, stuck in a house in a dead-end town where no one is willing to help us. You know how some people say that a person keeps making the same mistakes until they get it right? I wonder why the same bad things keeps happening to me. It’s not like I’m purposely making the mistakes – it’s more that I’m innocently stumbling into them and dragging the people I love along with me.
I was the one who wanted this house, much more than Liam did. He was interested in a newer property in Lyntworth, a town about 50 miles from here, but I coaxed him into letting me have my way. I can’t help but think that it’s a combination of several different things that has brought Obidiah back: something weak in the structural goodness or history of this house, Obidiah’s continued hold over Reece, and the fact us three kids are back together again for the first time in years.
Reece and Liam finish maneuvering Nostradamus back into his spot by the window and come back to the living room just as Organza finishes putting the last of the groceries away. We all stare at each other without saying anything and I can see how scared everyone else looks. I straighten my spine, fully prepared to be the one to step up and take charge. I can do this.
“We need a plan,” says Liam.
“I know. I was going to start searching for Father Lucerne once you were asleep.” I have to remember that Liam and Organza aren’t well. They need to look out for themselves. “Do you still want to take a nap?”
“What? How can I take a nap now after everything that’s happened?” He looks toward the hallway. “Anyway, I’m not going back into that bedroom.”
“You do know he can move around the house, don’t you? He’s not just stuck in one place. He was outside in the oak tree yesterday.” I feel a pressing need to remind Liam of this. Not that I’m feeling too enthusiastic about going back to our bedroom but we have to be sensible about this. It’s obvious Obidiah isn’t bound by the same physical boundaries as we are.
Reece scratches his head and gives me a weird, sideways look. “We must get your eyesight looked at.” He’s not using his voice, he’s using the curious old bastard’s voice, but no one but me seems to notice.
“Where are we going to sleep tonight if we can’t go up the hallway?” Organza says in her most irritating, whiney tone. “Someone has to do something.”
“We’re sleeping in our rooms,” I say with more confidence than I’m feeling. I stare hard at Reece but he’s picking his nose now and just acting like Reece. “We’re all going back up there now and we’re going to have a look in each room. I want everyone to see that we’re fine. He thrives on surprise. He’s not going to show himself if we march right in there without a single concern in our heads.” Yeah, I know. Talk it up, Ellie. I certainly don’t have any idea if what I’m saying is true but as I said before, someone has to take charge. I give Liam a bright, cheerful smile. “Ready?”
“Uh.” He doesn’t look ready. He looks tired and sick and I almost tell him to forget it and instead suggest that we pull all the mattresses off the beds and drag them into the living room. But I don’t. This is my house, my dream, and I’m not letting that nasty old devil worshipper control any more of my life. I stride across the living room and walk up the hallway, smiling over my shoulder at the others as I go. “Come on.”
“Over there. Behind the bed.” He raises a shaking hand to point out the spot. “Kind of up against the wall under that painting.”
There was an old painting in our bedroom when we moved in and we haven’t got around to taking it down yet. It’s one of those bleak, brownish-colored agricultural scenes of wispy woods and hills, the fields dotted with indiscernible shapes that might be cows or might not be. Apparently, they were once very popular but I have no idea why anyone would want to hang such a gloomy picture. There’s a large stain on the wallpaper below the bottom frame of the painting that I can’t remember seeing before but otherwise, the room looks ordinary.
“It’s gone,” Liam announces, probably unnecessarily.
“Nothing in there now,” says Reece happily. “I’m going back to my room to read my book.”
I wince at his use of the word nothing but I don’t say anything out loud. No use putting the screaming mee-mees up everyone. “Wait. We have to make sure Organza’s room is safe for her.” I started this excursion and I’m going to finish it so that everyone can get peacefully on with their day.
We all take a look in Organza’s room after that but it looks the same as it did before, with her unmade bed and her discarded clothes and shoes flung around everywhere. “And here we have it, a shining example of a room that’s been possessed and turned upside down by evil spirits.” Liam tries to make a joke of it but no one laughs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Reece is reading in his room and Organza is painting her nails in front of an episode of The Bachelor on the TV. I carry my laptop out to the kitchen and sit it on the countertop. It’s a pain not having a table and chairs but Mr. Devall said it’ll be at least four weeks before the new stock arrives. The lack of a TV cabinet isn’t so much of a problem – we have the TV sitting on a coffee table right now – but when there are four people living in a house a table would be handy. Especially as it seems we’re stuck inside for at least the next week and a half.
Liam follows me, looking like death warmed up. He’s refusing to go and lie down, won’t even nap on the sofa, and I’m tired of trying to persuade him to. He’s a big boy now and he has his own mind. If he’s stupid enough to trail around after me when he feels like crap, so be it.
“And you can’t remember his email address?” Liam asks me now.
“Are you serious? How many email addresses do you remember off the top of your head?”
He looks at me with dead eyes. “I meant your grandfather’s email address, not Father Lucerne’s.”
“Oh, the curious old bastard. No, I don’t remember it.” I switch on my laptop and wait for the magic to happen.
“Why do you call him the curious old bastard? I’ve always wondered. It’s an unusual name for a granddaughter to give to her Grandad.” Liam leans up against the counter as if he’s afraid his legs won’t hold him up unless he has some additional support.
I shrug and move the cursor so I can sign in. “I didn’t make it up and I certainly never called him that to his face. Dad gave him the name. They never saw eye to eye. Grandad was a difficult man and it he made it hard for people to like him. He was stubborn and ornery and he never listened. I think what Dad meant by curious was that he was a bit peculiar. You know, like a curiosity.”
“Did your father ever call him that to his face?”
“Hell no.” I make wide eyes at Liam to show him how extraordinary and out of line that would’ve been. “He only called him that behind his back. I guess I overheard Mom and Dad talking so I picked it up too.” I open the browser and type in Father Lucerne St Josephs.
“And he became a zombie, right?”
“Dad? Yeah.” Several pages have opened up and the first article has a photo of Father Lucerne attached. He looks a lot younger in this photo than the last time I spoke to him on Skype. I open it expectantly.
“Not your Dad, your grandfather.” Liam sounds embarrassed and I look up at him in surprise.
“Sorry, Ellie. I feel clumsy asking you these questions. You lost nearly your whole family up on that hill.”
“No, I didn’t. I still have Mom and Reece and Organza.”
“Yeah, but you lost your grandparents and your Dad. That’s kind of major.”
“Mmmm. I guess I’ve grown to accept it now. Can’t go back and change anything.” I turn my laptop a little so he can see the screen. “This was when he still worked at the parish.”
“Do they have any contact details? Maybe you can email them and they can tell you where he is now.”
“Good thinking.” I scroll through the article, something about a fundraiser for a new stained glass window, and click on the link for St. Joseph’s. “Oh, there’s a number. Can you pass me my phone, hun?”
He slides my phone along the counter and I catch it and push the bottom to turn the screen on. Nothing. I pick it up to try again, sure that I charged it overnight. There’s nothing there, not a thing. “Battery must be flat. I thought I’d charged it to 100%.”
“Use mine.” Liam pulls his phone out of his pocket and depresses the button on the side with his thumb. I’m watching his face, already sure of what’s coming, and sure enough it comes. “Hey, it’s not working.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
Liam is still pushing buttons on his phone, refusing to give up so easily.
“We’ll have to recharge them.” I’m not about to make too much of a fuss. I’m just glad that Obidiah didn’t drain the battery on the laptop as well.
“This phone is new. The battery shouldn’t be this fucked already.” He sounds blocked up and snotty, and I can tell his sinuses are swollen and sore. I reach over and gently take the phone out of his hand. “We can sort it out tomorrow. When you’re feeling better. Go and curl up on the recliner and I’ll bring you a soda and a Tylenol.”
“We need phones, Ellie. We can’t stay locked in here with no contact with anyone.” He drops the phone onto the counter and it skitters across the fake marble surface, stopping just short of falling off the counter and onto the floor.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll plug them both in and recharge them. It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” I give him a Mom-smile but he isn’t looking at me. He’s staring at the fridge with his nose wrinkled in revulsion. “What the fuck is that?”
I turn to see what he’s looking at and recoil in disgust. The fridge door is smeared in something brownish-reddish that looks a lot like that smeared opossum we found on the tree roots. “I don’t know what that is.”
He takes a cautious step closer. “It smells… sweet.”
Organza walks into the kitchen just then, flapping her hands to dry her nails. She sniffs loudly and glares at me. “I need a painkiller. I don’t feel good.”
“Well, you do have the measles so what do you expect?” I have no tolerance for Organza’s dramatic performances right now. “Go back out to the living room and I’ll bring you some medication shortly. We have a situation we’re dealing with right now.”
She looks over to where Liam is studying the mess on the fridge door. “Ooops. My bad. I ate a piece of cake and I had frosting on my hands when I went to get something out of the fridge.”
“Organza!” My relief adds increased exasperation to my voice and she frowns her displeasure at me. “Calm down,” she says. “It’ll wipe off. Don’t lose your mind over a bit of frosting.” She turns and flounces off, not offering to do the clean up herself. I roll my eyes at Liam and go to get a cloth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The house is finally quiet. Liam and Organza, dosed up on Tylenol, have gone off to their beds to sleep. Reece is lying on his stomach on the floor, writing or
drawing in a notebook, and the TV is off for once. I plugged in both of our phones before Liam went to bed and I go over now to check the charge bars on my screen, hoping against hope that it’s working.
Two flashing green bars. I yank the charger out of the slot at the bottom and carry my phone back to the kitchen. Reece doesn’t need to hear this conversation. Not that I think he’d bother to listen but I want to be sure that what I need to ask is as private as I can make it.
I tap out the long phone number on the keyboard – international code, country code, county code, phone number – and then I hold the phone to my ear and wait. It seems to be a long wait. There doesn’t seem to be anyone anxious to pick up the phone wherever it’s ringing over there in England. I’m starting to wonder if I should’ve checked the time difference first to make sure I’m not trying to connect at 12.05 am when someone finally answers. “Good afternoon, St. Joseph’s Parish. How may I help?”
Have you ever noticed that if someone speaks to you in an extra-polite voice that you go out of your way to do the same? No, just me? Anyway, I’m on my best behavior with my reply. “Hello, my name is Ellie Friedlander. I’m an old friend of Father Lucerne. Are you able to give me his new contact details? I know he’s retired from service but I don’t have his updated details.” I hold my breath and wait.
“Father Lucerne?” There’s a brief pause. “Who did you say you were, dear?”
I’m picturing a kindly old man in black religious robes with a white collar, someone around the same age as Father Lucerne was when I first spoke to him. Perhaps he has grey hair with a bald patch and he’s probably wearing eye glasses with thin, gold rims. “Ellie Friedlander. I’m calling from America.”
“Ah. Yes, the accent.” He goes silent on the end of the phone again, as if he’s waiting for me to say something more.
The Nothing House Page 8
