A House for Keeping

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A House for Keeping Page 25

by Matteson Wynn

What was I going to do now? I supposed I could stuff the necklace in my suitcase. Not wear it anymore. But just the thought made me feel so naked and vulnerable that I felt even worse.

  That decided me. I may not like what the necklace had become—I’d have to wait and see. But for now, there was no way I was going to leave it behind. I folded the scissors back up. Then, I pulled the chain out of my pocket, strung the pendant back on, and placed it back around my neck. Despite the fact that I now knew that something was living in there, the familiar weight was comforting.

  As opposed to my blood-encrusted shirt, which was fifty shades of gross. And starting to itch. I peeled it off, crammed it into my dirty laundry bag, and put on a clean one. After a moment’s debate, I decided to leave the charm in my bra, since I promised Zo I’d hang onto it till Monday.

  Next, I looked for my purse, but it and my cell phone were missing. Well, that narrowed my choices.

  “Okay, house. As quietly as you can, please answer my questions. Remember, it’s one for yes, two for no. Ready?”

  A ding came from the bathroom.

  “Have you bonded with Meg yet?”

  A loud ding ding followed by the floorboards groaning.

  I felt relieved. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did.

  “Okay, is Nor in the house?”

  Ding.

  “Is Wil?”

  Ding.

  “Hot damn! Are they upstairs?”

  Ding.

  “In their rooms?”

  No response.

  “Huh. In Wil’s room?”

  Ding ding.

  “Nor’s room?”

  Ding.

  “Even better. Anyone else up here?”

  Ding ding.

  “As long as I stay upstairs for now, is it safe for me to leave my room?”

  A pause. Ding.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  I put Fuzzy down and tried to leave the room without him, but he glued himself to my legs, tripping me as I walked.

  “Okay, okay. You can come, too, for now,” I said, picking him up.

  I cracked open the door, saw that the coast was clear, and tiptoed across and down the hall to Nor’s room, where I knocked quietly on the door. “Nor?” I whispered.

  The door whipped open. Nor stared at me for half a second, then grabbed my elbow and yanked me inside. She grabbed me by the shoulders, scanned me from head to toe, then gave me and Fuzzy a brief hard hug.

  “Holy shit.” That came from Wil.

  Nor released me as Wil came over.

  They talked over each other with Nor saying, “Are you alright? Where have you been?” while Wil said, “How’d you get back here?”

  “I’m doing okay—thanks for the slurpee, Wil. As for where I’ve been…” I plunked myself in a chair, with Fuzzy on my lap, and explained about the cell and Sarah’s visit. “As for how I got here, I, uh, had some help. I’ll explain more later.” I took in the circles under Nor’s eyes and the general haggardness of both their faces. “Are you guys alright?”

  “We didn’t sleep much,” Nor said.

  “We’ve been trying to figure out a way to find you and get you back here,” said Wil.

  Nor said, “Sarah took our phones and computers, so our options have been limited. She’s been offering us every bribe she can come up with not to cause problems now or to make a fuss once this is over.”

  “But we’ve been plotting anyway,” said Wil with a grin and a wink.

  “Well thanks, I appreciate it. If I hadn’t’ve gotten out on my own, I sure would have needed the help getting out of that place. Hey, is that food?”

  Nor and Wil turned to the tray behind them, loaded with fruit and sandwiches. Nor waved at the tray and said, “Help yourself. We’ve basically been locked up, too, just under house arrest instead of in an actual cell.” She compressed her lips and frowned. “I can’t believe she put you in a council facility.” She looked at Wil.

  He shook his head, “We’re so far off the map for a usual selection that I have no clue what’s happening at this point.”

  I put Fuzzy down and let him explore while I raided the tray. Around a mouthful of sandwich I said, “Speaking of things not going according to schedule, I have a question. Is there any way to buy some time here, so we have a chance to figure things out?”

  “As long as Sarah is here in charge, they’re not going to delay,” said Nor.

  Wil said, “The bonding is due to start in an hour. But even if we could somehow convince Sarah to delay, it would have to be a short delay. The bonding must take place today.”

  “Okay, so I have an hour to break this up.”

  Nor and Wil traded a look. Nor cleared her throat and sat down in a chair next to mine. “Not to be a wet blanket, Finn, but why? Have you changed your mind about becoming housekeeper?”

  My mouth went dry, and I had a hard time swallowing. “No,” I said.

  I must not have sounded very convincing because Nor raised an eyebrow at me.

  I put down my sandwich. “I just, well, I need a minute to think. I, just, I need breathing room!” I got up and walked to the window, staring out at the woods.

  I could feel Nor and Wil having a silent exchange behind my back.

  “What?” I said, without turning around.

  Nor said, “If you’re having doubts, any doubts, about leaving, then you need to give the housekeeper position serious and full consideration.”

  Wil said, “Nor and I were talking. There’s no doubt in either of our minds that you would be the best housekeeper this place has had in a long, long time.” He sighed. “I thought about what you said. You’re right. The family hasn’t treated the house very well. And nobody noticed. Nobody cared. But you did—you do. That says something.”

  I leaned my forehead on the window, letting the cool glass soothe the headache that was threatening to return. “I just need time. Quiet time. Freedom to think.”

  Wil said, “Well, until the bonding is over, we’re not going to get much freedom. And there’s not a lot we can do about stalling, either. The housekeeper can only be temporary for a limited amount of time—”

  I turned around, “Wait, wait, wait. I think I have an idea.” I noticed Fuzzy stalking the sandwich platter and pulled him onto my lap as I sat down. “Meg’s temporary, right?”

  “Right,” said Wil.

  “As in not permanent, not bonded, just a placeholder?”

  “Er, yes?”

  “Can we switch temps? I mean in the real world, temps come and go all the time—that’s why they’re called temps. So can’t someone else be the temporary housekeeper?”

  Nor stood up. “I see where you’re going. Wil? Put that photographic memory to good use. Is there anything in the archives about switching temps?”

  Wil leaned against a wall and stared into space. After about five minutes he said, “Yes. It happened once that I can remember reading about, back in the late 1700s. The temp got pneumonia and wasn’t going to survive long enough for them to complete the selection process. But the temp was being stubborn, insisted he was fine, and refused to give up the bond. So they forced a switch, took the temporary bond off the old temp, and transferred the power to a new temporary housekeeper.”

  “Great. How?”

  Wil frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Finn. It won’t help us. You need the house’s permission.”

  “Well, I have no problem at least asking.”

  Wil was still shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You have to petition the house by name.”

  Okay. That was a problem.

  However, before I could think of a way around it, I heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I jumped up, clutching Fuzzy, and dashed into Nor’s bathroom. I made it around the corner just as the door to her room banged against the wall.

  While Nor was saying, “You really want to add forced entry to the list?” I whispered, “Hide me. Please,” to the house.r />
  The wall between the tub and the sink silently split open. I stepped into the back of the closet in the adjacent room. In the few moments it took me to step in and turn around, the wall had already closed behind me.

  I heard a heavy tread enter the bathroom. It walked right past where I’d just been standing. A swish-clinkty-clink told me the shower curtain was being opened.

  Fuzzy became a ball of coiled tension, eyes fixated on whoever was on the other side of the wall. If he’d had laser vision, whoever was out there would’ve been nothing but a puff of smoke by now.

  The thumping footsteps went back into the main room.

  “All clear in here,” the Real Girl called.

  I heard a door close in the distance and footsteps approaching Nor’s room.

  “She’s not in her room, either.” That was Lars.

  Oh crap. They knew I was out. That was so not good.

  Lars reached Nor’s room and added, “But her cat’s gone.”

  I looked down at Fuzzy. Maybe taking him with me wasn’t a good idea.

  “Have you seen Finn?” Lars asked.

  Nor said, “Finn? You mean Finn that you dragged out of here, bloody and unconscious?” There was a pause. “Do you see a bloody, unconscious body anywhere?”

  Wil said, “Did you guys decide to bring her back here, after all? You should let me see her. Is she awake? Did you give her the shake I sent? She really needs to drink that whole thing.”

  Lars ignored Wil’s questions and asked, “What about the cat?”

  “Off wandering, I imagine. If you’d let me hang onto him instead of insisting I put him in her room, he probably wouldn’t have gotten bored and wandered off. Why the sudden concern about her kitten?” asked Nor.

  “Sarah wants him,” says Lars.

  I looked down at Fuzzy again. Okay, taking him was a great idea.

  “No kitten here,” said Wil.

  I assumed Nor was slapping them with one of her lawyer looks because I could hear Lars’s sigh through the wall. “Stay here,” he said.

  I heard them clomp out, and the door close. The muffled sound of them talking made its way through the wall, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I heard footsteps tromp away.

  “Finn?” Nor was in the bathroom whispering.

  “You can let me out. Please,” I said to the house. The wall opened, and I found myself facing a startled Nor.

  Her look of surprise changed to a smile. “Well done.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “One of them is outside the door, standing guard.”

  Wil came around the corner, caught sight of me standing in the open wall, and laughed softly. “Nice.”

  Nor and Wil started whispering back and forth, trying to figure out what we should do next.

  I tuned them out, thinking furiously. The thought that kept hammering at me over and over was I need more time. I needed to sit still and really think with no drama swirling around me. So how could I buy myself some breathing room? I realized I was alternately patting Fuzzy and the wall as I was thinking. Staring at the wall, I got an idea.

  I interrupted Nor and Wil with, “Look, I’m not staying.”

  Wil asked, “What? Where are you going?”

  “I’m not sure. You guys sit tight for now.”

  Nor frowned but didn’t argue. She said, “Be careful.”

  With a nod, I said, “Close it up please,” and the house closed the wall.

  I turned around and opened the closet door a crack. The room on the other side was empty.

  I closed the closet door again and put the hand that wasn’t holding Fuzzy against the door.

  “House,” I whispered, “can you hear me? If you can, please signal me as quietly as possible.”

  The lightbulb in the closet blinked on and off.

  I smiled. “Speaking of lightbulbs,” I said, then whispered my idea. I finished by saying, “I want to be really clear that I’m not making any promises here. I’m just trying to buy us time to consider our options. And, most importantly, this is only if you want to do it. You get to make a choice here, too. If you just want to go ahead with the bond with Meg and get it over with, I totally understand.”

  There was a pause in which I assumed the house was mulling over my proposition. Even though I could feel the sands leaking from the hourglass, I waited patiently. Even Fuzzy was holding still.

  The closet door in front of me swung open.

  As I tiptoed into the room, the wall on the far side split open. The house was directing me somewhere, so I followed its lead.

  I hurried through the hole in the wall and found myself in Wil’s room. He had books, papers, and clothes strewn everywhere. I tried to pick my way through it, but I bumped into something, and it fell to the floor with a thud.

  I froze. Fuzzy froze in my arms. I think both of us were holding our breath, hoping maybe no one had heard anything.

  The clomp, clomp, clomp heading in my direction told me I wasn’t going to have any such luck.

  The house opened the wall in front of me just as I heard the door to the room between Nor and Wil’s whomp open. The boots went inside.

  If they were going room by room, they’d check Wil’s room next. I ran through the opening in the wall, into the next room, trying desperately not to make any noise as I went.

  The wall had just closed behind me when the door to Wil’s room slammed open, and I heard the heavy tread go inside.

  My heart was pounding, and my sweaty palms were sticking to Fuzzy’s fur. The room I’d entered was at the end of the hall. There was nowhere else for me to go.

  The house opened a much smaller segment of the wall in the front, right corner of the room, to the right of the door.

  “I can’t go out into the hallway, he’ll see me,” I hissed to the house, as I skittered over to the hole in the wall.

  When I reached it, I realized that I was looking at an enclosed staircase, not the hallway. My brain churned. I remembered it was the stairwell to the attic. It smelled kind of musty, but right then I didn’t care. Footsteps were approaching the room.

  I put Fuzzy on a stair and squeezed myself through the narrow hole in the wall and joined him. I whipped around to see the hole snap shut just as the door to the room opened.

  I held still. Stairs headed up to my left, but I paid more attention to the door to my right, terrified he would open it. My heart was doing its best impression of a bass drum at a death-metal concert, and I was panting quietly.

  The footsteps moved around the room, then paused in the doorway. Too close to me. Too close to the attic door.

  I heard another set of footsteps coming up the back stairs from the mudroom.

  Fuzzy was already halfway up the attic stairs. He came back down a stair, swishing his tail at me. He went up a stair, looked over his shoulder at me, and flicked his tail again.

  Right. Up the stairs, into the dark. Sarah had said there was tons of junk in the attic. Maybe we could hide there.

  While I crept up the attic staircase, the footsteps reached the top of the back stairs.

  From right outside the attic door, Lars said, “Problem?”

  “Thought I heard something. Might be nothing but…” the Real Girl said.

  “But nothing is going the way it should today,” Lars said. In a lower voice he added, “I told them they should have taken Finn farther away. It was stupid to put her at the facility right in town.”

  I paused. Well, that explained how they thought I’d be able to get back to the house already. I hadn’t been that far away to begin with.

  “Did you check in here?” Lars asked.

  “Not yet,” said the Real Girl.

  I felt the stairs vibrating under me and took that as my cue. It sounded like the door was sticking, which gave me the extra few seconds I needed. I hurried up the remainder of the steps and made it around the corner just as I heard the door at the bottom of the steps open.

  A beam of light flas
hed up the staircase, but both Fuzzy and I were well out of its reach.

  “Look at that layer of dust,” said the Real Girl. “No one’s been up here in a while.”

  “Fine, but leave the door open. In fact, let’s leave all the doors open. I don’t trust the house not to cover for her if she does show up. And it’ll be easier to keep an eye out for the cat this way.”

  “What’s Sarah want it for anyway?”

  “My understanding is she’ll use it for leverage if Finn shows up.”

  I swallowed the snarl that I felt rising.

  As they wandered off down the hallway, the Real Girl gave a soft whistle. “Dude, that’s harsh. I’ll be glad when this job is over.”

  Lars said, “With you there. Now focus.”

  Then they were out of hearing range.

  I turned my attention to the attic. A few randomly-spaced, dirty windows let a dim, gray light into the space, but I couldn’t see all the way to the other end. Dust motes drifted and settled on shrouded hulks that were strewn willy-nilly throughout the space. In the immediate vicinity, I saw a couple of steamer trunks, a sheet-covered thing that I was betting was a couch of some kind, a floor lamp that was missing its shade, and a precarious stack of old magazines. I bet Wil would have a field day up there.

  I followed Fuzzy a bit farther into the room, picking my way around the various obstacles. I was dying of curiosity and had to force myself not to snoop. I stopped and whispered, “House? What now?”

  I felt the floor vibrate softly. At first, I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Then I saw Fuzzy’s and my footprints disappear, and I realized the dust was shifting. Within a few seconds, a clear spot appeared on the floor in front of me. Then it spread, the dust parting to form a nice, clean walkway. A path. It was a path.

  Fuzzy figured it out before I did. He stepped onto the clean floor, shook a paw, gave the dust a dirty look, then proceeded along the path, tail in the air. He paused at the first bend to look back at me.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re smarter than I am. Everyone knows this. No need to rub it in,” I whispered. I followed after him down the path.

  I came around the first bend and found myself facing one of the windows. It was nearly opaque with dust, but I realized I was looking down at the left side of the house. I hadn’t walked around this side of the house yet, so I paused to look. With my bird’s-eye view, I could see parts of a path that wound through the woods and a circular clearing with a bunch of big rocks in it.

 

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