The House of Wood

by Anthony Price

  This is ridiculous, she thought. The house hadn't done anything to her, it had been him. The house itself was just a building, an inanimate object that couldn’t do anything except look creepy. So why did she feel such hatred towards it? The dolls, she thought. Nothing could explain the dolls. Anger and bitterness, ate away at her. She hated it and everything it represented.

  As if on autopilot, she moved forward and around to the right of the house. The bleak silence seemed to permeate everything, seeping in to her pores. The isolation was almost suffocating. It clawed at her mind, trying to find a crevice, any recess in which it could embed itself. There’s nothing out here, she thought, as she continued her tour around the fringes of the building. There was just the house. And of course, the blackbirds that plagued the farms in the area. The town had always had an abundance of them. Two were perched on the dark roof, their beady eyes watching her, as she walked along the final wall. One of them had some kind of dead animal carcass hanging from its beak. A mouse, maybe? Whatever it was, it looked like a horrific way to die. She shuddered. The birds were another thing she hated about the place.

  Rachel was back at the front now. She had noticed something; no matter where she stood to look at it; front, back, side, it was still the same old building. She supposed it always would be like that. At certain points, it had felt as though it was going to come alive and lurch forward, crushing her beneath its huge mass. In a way, she wished that was possible.

  Her hand had started to tremble. Bending over, she picked up a reasonable sized stone. It felt sharp and harsh in her smooth palm. It would do.

  She stood up and launched it at the house.

  “I hate you, I hate you!”

  The rock hit the wall, chipping off some of the new paint, before falling lifeless back to the floor. She selected another.

  “You ruined my life,” she screamed, hurling the stone.

  It struck. Then another, and another. Her breathing had quickened, going in and out with short, ragged bursts.

  “You took everything from me.”

  Deep down, she knew it wasn’t the house she was aiming at; the house had done nothing, except act as the setting to her nightmare. But she couldn’t stop herself. The person she wanted to get at wasn’t here. Her seething anger had broken through to the surface and was in full swing. There was no stopping it.

  More and more rocks ricocheted off of the white wooden walls of the building. Scarring them. The final stone flew through the air and struck the window with a loud crash that seemed to reverberate around the hillside.

  She stopped, the sound pulling her out of the maelstrom that was her fury. She took a deep breath trying to slow her heart rate. She looked up at the broken window. The jagged hole in the black pane made it look even more sinister. But the whole event had felt like a cleansing, a releasing of the pressure valve that had been slowly rising since she had arrived in town. There was no telling how long it would last. No doubt it would bubble and boil over again before her time was done. She prayed that she would have left town by then.

  She turned to leave, stopping only once to look over her shoulder at the house. It was still. The only thing was the ever present silence. She closed her eyes and walked away.

  What she missed was the face staring out of the broken window. Smiling.

  ***

  The figure moved away from the window, gliding along the floorboards. A single blackbird sat in the corner, pecking at a rat carcass.

  “I know they can’t find out.”

  “If they find out the truth it’ll be down to you. Could you forgive yourself if they do?”

  “Just leave me alone!” The figure shouted causing the bird to look up.

  It was pitch black in the bedroom. A small shaft of sunlight peeked through a crack in the curtains. Unlike the rest of the house, the upstairs hadn’t been touched yet. It was like a blank canvas waiting to be transformed in to a work of art. Something beautiful. But the old furniture that had survived the fire was covered in dirt and dust. Cobwebs adorned the lampshade and every available ceiling corner.

  “Well could you forgive yourself if people find out the truth?” A silence passed for a few moments. “Well? You know what your brother did. You’d be ruined.”

  “NO!” The figure spat, slamming a fist against the wall. A small cloud of dust leapt in to the air.

  The figure sat alone in the living room of the old house contemplating what would happen if the time came to come clean. It probably wouldn’t come to that. Most people didn’t last long around here anyway. Something always scares them off.

  “You won’t take me like you did the rest.”

  “I want revenge on that bitch.”

  “We shall see. Nothing happens to her before I get the full story of what occurred here.”

  Silence.

  The figure moved around the house, doing bits and pieces before leaving out the front door. Rachel was long gone. Call it chance, or fate, but whichever it was, it was a fine thing. She was exactly what was needed. It would be time for answers soon. Everything would work out just fine.

  ***

  It hadn’t taken Rachel long to walk back in to town. By the time she had reached the bed and breakfast, the heavy rain had turned in to a light drizzle. Even the sky was beginning to brighten, the sunlight finally fighting its way through the dense grey cloud. She lowered her umbrella and let the damp air hit her face, refreshing her before she went back inside. It was as if she was washing away the previous hour spent travelling to and from the house. It felt good.

  She tried not to make a sound, as she entered the small hallway. Off to her left, the dining room was beginning to stir with the first, early morning patrons eating their complimentary breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs drifted down the hallway straight to her nostrils. She felt like Eve being tempted by the Apple, and her mouth filled with saliva. The tantalising aroma was tempting. She put a hand across her stomach. No, the last thing she needed was people coming and talking to her. The best thing would be to get back up to her room, lock the door and shut out Willows Peak. At least until her meeting with the sheriff. God knows why he wants to see me, she thought, crossing the threshold. With any luck, it'll be to tell me that the investigation is over and that I can go home. That was all she wanted. To go home.

  The door made an audible click, and it swung back into its slot. Without skipping a beat, she spun around and threw herself at the first few steps. She knew what was coming. It was inevitable.

  “You seem to be in a hurry, dear,” Mrs Ryan said, making no attempt to hide the distaste in her voice. “May I offer you some breakfast?”

  Rachel turned around to face the annoying little woman. She was standing in the doorway to the parlour, two beady little eyes searching for any hint of gossip.

  “No thank you, Mrs Ryan. I think I'll just return to my room.”

  “Been anywhere interesting?”

  “Just out for a stroll.”

  “At this hour? It's far too early for just a stroll. I hope you aren’t thinking of bringing a gentleman back in. I won't have any of that going on in my establishment.”

  Mrs Ryan was beginning to grate on Rachel's last nerve. She could feel that familiar tingling in her hands. The same she had felt at the house. She bit back her tongue.

  “No, of course not,” she replied, hoping her voice didn't sound strained. “I just needed some fresh air.”

  “Oh, fresh air, I see. Well remember what I’ve told you. I know the stories. The first sign of trouble and you’re out of here. I don't want my place -“

  “Will that be all?” Rachel cut in.

  Fire burned hot in her eyes. How dare this evil little woman accuse her of anything? What did she know? Nothing, that's what. She was just another one of the small town gossips vying for her pound of flesh. Well, she wasn't going to get it. Rachel had already noticed her inching backwards.

  “Y-yes, that'll be all. You've been warned.”

  Mrs R
yan shot off in the direction of the dining room, as Rachel bolted up the stairs, her feet pounding on the well-worn wood. She no longer needed to be quiet. The damage had already been done. The tranquil calm she felt outside, gone, along with every ounce of love she had for her hometown. The bitch had been just like the rest; too quick to judge something they didn't understand.

  She slammed the bedroom door without thinking. Becky flew upright in the bed, her back so erect, she looked like Frankenstein sitting on the operating table.

  “What the hell?” she said, still half asleep.

  “Sorry, it’s just me. I didn't mean to wake you.”

  Becky looked at the clock. “Where have you been at this hour?”

  “Nowhere,” Rachel replied. “Just walking.”

  “Just walking?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re alright?”

  “Yes, I'm fine. It's nothing a nice, warm soak under the shower can't fix. You just go back to sleep.”

  Becky threw the cover over her head. By the time Rachel had stripped down to her underwear, she was fast asleep. Soft snores filled the silent void in the room.

  Chapter Five

  The noonday sun blazed through the white spectral clouds over the downtown area of Willows Peak. Citizens of the sleepy town ran to and fro between the small shops that made up Main Street. The area was experiencing unusually high temperatures for that time of year. The weather forecasters would later call it an Indian summer. Whatever it was, it wasn't normal.

  Rachel sat at the back of the quaint little café at a secluded table. She looked out of place, sitting in front of her laptop, but she had to sit down. And anyway, there was something about the place she liked.

  Her feet throbbed under the constraints of her Nike trainers. First there had been some papers for school that needed dropping off at the post office; then she had to rush across town in order to make a 10 o’ clock meeting with the sheriff. Usually she was solid and wouldn’t care. But today was different. Today she wasn’t on her game.

  The cursor on the blank Word document blinked at her, as if it was frustrated at not moving across the page. In her left hand she was fiddling with the doctor’s business card. Why shouldn’t I take him up on his offer? She mused. It had been three years for Christ’s sake. He was a professional. What was she afraid of?

  Her right hand absently fondled with the silver inscribed locket around her neck.

  To my high-school sweet heart: Always and Forever.

  Yeah, until….

  “Howdy Little Lady.”

  Nathan's voice made her jump. He stood there beaming at her.

  “Fancy a coffee?”

  “If you're buying,” Rachel replied with a smile.

  She sat for several moments watching him at the counter. He was such a good friend. If the chips were down, then she knew he was a man that could be counted on. But his reaction the other day had taken her by surprise. Her mind, like a child reaching for the cookie jar at the back of the cupboard, just couldn't grasp what it meant. Was he jealous? He had never shown any romantic interest in her. And it wasn't as if David had asked her on a date. It was professional curiosity. Nothing more. So why would he be jealous?

  Snippets of conversation filtered through over the Barista’s clamouring; the weather, the trouble in the middle-east, public scandals, the mundane topics of conversation. To a lot of people they wouldn’t have been mundane, but to her they meant nothing. Her mind was too full.

  Nathan returned to the table carrying two steaming cups of black liquid.

  “Thank you,” she said, as he sat down opposite her.

  “No problem. How’re you feeling?”

  “Tired.”

  “I can imagine,” he replied. “Pa mentioned he'd seen you this morning.”

  Rachel let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, he did. Not that there was much point. Isn't there anything you can do?” She so desperately wanted to go home.

  “I’m sorry Rach, my hands are tied. This is a small town. We've only got thirty officers and ten of those are part-time.”

  “But it’s ridiculous.” The frustration at getting nowhere was bubbling beneath the surface. “It was either an accident, or not.”

  “We’re not sure,” Nathan replied, lowering his eyes to the table.

  “For Christ's sake, how can you not be sure?” Rachel shouted at him.

  Tentative heads turned in their direction.

  “Rach, calm down. We’re doing all we can. These things take time.”

  “I just want to be able to go home. How can they even suggest I’m a suspect, I wasn't even in town.”

  Nathan looked at her square in the eyes. “It’s just routine. We have to investigate every possible avenue, just in case. Nobody really believes you could be involved. Especially not me.”

  He smiled at her. The warmth and genuine care in his eyes melted away the tension. It wasn't until that moment that Rachel realised how much she had missed him. She smiled back. “Thank you. I'm sorry I was being a bitch.”

  “That’s okay,” he replied. “No one can blame you.”

  Moments ticked by, as the two of them sat in silence. Tiny dust mites danced in the air, as the lazy sunlight burned through the glass window, causing them to flash silver.

  Rachel took a short sip of her espresso, rolling the bitter black liquid over her tongue. Not once did she take her eyes away from the window. How long would she have to wait? She wondered. A part of her was pleased to be back in town among old friends and familiar places. Over the road was the shop where she bought her prom dress; next to that was the small cinema, where she had her first date. There had been so many good times. A lot of them with the guy sitting opposite. But there was another part of her. The part that knew this was the last time she would return home.

  “Nathan,” she said, not looking up from her coffee. “I’ve missed not having you around. You're about the only thing I have missed around here.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Slugger. The place hasn't been the same without you. Without any of you.”

  “Yeah.” The silver locket around her neck was cold against her warm skin. Why did she still wear it? She didn't want to think about that now. “When I go home, promise you'll come and visit.”

  She noticed Nathan's shoulders slump. He took a long sip of his coffee.

  “I’ll try,” he said, no longer looking at her. “With work and all. You know how it is.”

  “I won't take no for an answer. I'm sure Becky would like to see you again.” She let the insinuation hang in the air. It went unnoticed. “I think she likes you.”

  “I doubt it, we only just met.”

  “Well, she hasn't stopped talking about it since the funeral,” Rachel replied. “Maybe, you should ask her out on a date?”

  “Maybe,” Nathan said. He fidgeted in his chair. “Talking of dates, maybe we -“

  A loud crash from the back of the shop cut the sentence short. Rachel turned her head away to see what the noise was. It was only a mousy waitress with tomato red cheeks; a result of her clumsiness with the tray. Rachel turned back. As she did so, her face lit up.

  “Doctor Cochrane.” The words fumbled from her lips before she could stop them.

  David looked over his shoulder with a frown. His eyes roamed over the patrons of the café. As soon as they locked onto Rachel, she felt her stomach drop. He smiled at her, picked up his coffee and walked towards her.

  “Doctor Cochrane, hi,” she said, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush. Nathan fidgeted again.

  David swept back his fringe. “Hello, Miss James. I didn't think I'd have the pleasure of seeing you again. I hope all is well?”

  “Things could be better, but on the whole, I'm not too bad.”

  “Good.” He turned to Nathan. “Afternoon, deputy, keeping the streets safe I hope.”

  “We do our best,” Nathan replied at the joke, not bothering to look up.

  Rachel could see the tension mounting on
his face. The air had become awkward.

  “Doctor Cochrane -“

  “David, please.”

  She smiled. “David, would you like to join us?”

  “I’ve got a break now. I’d love to.”

  David sat down in the seat next to Rachel. If looks could kill, then she would have dropped stone dead on the floor. Nathan was scowling at her.

  She gave him a quick kick under the table. “Have you met David before, Nathan?”

  “We’ve met a few times, yeah.” He picked up his cup. His eyes glared at her through the steam as he drank. Rachel ignored it.

  “The deputy and I met not long after I arrived in town. In fact, he was one of the first people I met.”

  “Oh really,” she replied. “How was that?”

  “Wow, is that the time. I really must be going.” Nathan jumped out of his chair like a Jack-in-the-Box. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, doctor.”

  “But, you haven’t finished your coffee,” Rachel said, bemused. “Stay a bit longer.”

  “Sorry. Can’t. Sheriff Ross’ll have my balls if I don't get back. Say hi to Becky for me.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  Nathan was gone before the last word had left her lips.

  It was the second time he had done that to her in a week and it was starting to worry her. She didn't want things to be awkward between them. Maybe it had been too long? She thought. People change over time.

  David cleared his throat, pulling her mind back to him.

  “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks turned red. “He’s normally a really nice guy. I'm not sure what's got in to him.”

  “Please, don't worry about it. The deputy has a very stressful job, keeping the town safe and all.”

  Rachel smiled. He was so understanding. The more time she spent with him, the more relaxed she became. It was the first time in her life that she felt as though she could open up to someone. Tell him anything and not be judged.

  He motioned to her empty cup. “More coffee?”