by Harry Glum
Her daughter shot at her a surprised look. She seemed sleepy, and a little bit scared.
- Nothing, mum...
- Weren´t you talking to somebody?
- No. I was just sleeping.
Cathy checked that the window was well closed and then she took the doll, now that it looked like a lifeless object in her hands. But again she felt, she seemed to sense, that the expression of the doll had changed once more: she showed a determined look, even defiant.
- I don´t like this doll. I think we should leave her in the place you found it.
- No, mama! Please, please, please... she´s my friend!
Again, she felt the heaviness of the divorce on her, and that after Penny´s parents split up, she could not deny the doll to her, because she was suffering in silence, and that object, that doll she was becoming so fond of, at least seemed to give her daughter certain happiness.
- Alright. But I don´t want any more conversations at night – sentenced Cathy, convinced that her daughter knew more or less what she was referring to.
The week passed by with certain normality. However, Cathy couldn´t help but thinking about the doll. About Pat. She had become almost an obsession. She thought it was a bad influence for her daughter. And then they were those expressions. When the weekend came and Paul, her ex-husband, told her he didn´t like it either, she saw a door opened.
- We have to make Penny give the doll back to its owner, or at least make her leave it in the place she found it, at the crossroads of 10 Street and M.
- That´s a wonderful idea. As this weekend she is coming to my house, we will do the following: we will leave the doll here; so that she starts getting used to the idea- suggested Paul.
They had a hard time convincing Penny, who almost broke into tears when she sat in her father´s car, heading to the house they owned in the city outskirts, leaving her beloved Pat in her bedroom.
- Pat is going to be really mad. She will get very angry with mommy, and surely with you too.
- Well Penny, she will get over it. After all... she´s just a doll!
That night Penny phoned her mother to wish her a good night and to tell her all she had been doing during the day in the company of her father.
- Good night sweetie. I see you tomorrow – Cathy said to her.
- See you tomorrow!
Cathy went to bed early. But soon she felt uncomfortable: she knew it would not be easy for her to get to sleep that night and she thought of taking a tranquilizer. It happened to her rather frequently, when Penny slept outside home, no matter if it was her ex- husband´s home. At last, she relaxed, but when she was almost asleep, she seemed to hear someone was whispering somewhere in the house. At first she felt the shivers, but then she got up determined to frighten the possible intruder away. She took the wireless phone with her, in case it was necessary to call the police, and a starter pistol (she was terrified to use a real one). She left her bedroom barefoot, walking slowly along the carpeted hallway of the second floor. It was in that exact moment when she discovered that the whispers came from Penny´s bedroom. How could it be? She approached to the closed door, but she didn´t dare to open it.
- Who´s there? I´ll call the police immediately! – she almost shouted.
And then, a deadly silence invaded the whole house. She waited a couple of minutes, almost holding up her breathing. She knew that on the other side someone was awaiting. And, tuning her ear, she seemed to hear some weak footsteps, which wandered around the room fairly slowly. Determined, she opened the door in a rush, pointing with the starter gun at the center of the room. Nobody was there. Wait a moment: the doll was thrown in the middle of the room, and she perfectly remembered having put her on the bed that same afternoon. Who had moved her? She searched desperately in the bedroom, looking even inside the closet and under the bed. There was no one there. And suddenly, a crazy idea crossed her mind. It was an idea as ridiculous as terrifying. She picked up the porcelain doll from the floor and looked at her face. Indeed: she had changed again. Now she was showing a malevolent smile, in which some irregular and sharp teeth could be spotted. Was she becoming insane? Furious, she smashed the doll against the wall. Pat´s porcelain face cracked, and it was marked by a huge scar that made a path, from her forehead to her chin. Cathy, satisfied, went back to her bedroom even more relaxed and fell immediately asleep.
The next day, around eleven, the phone rang at Paul´s home. It was really strange that someone phoned on a public holiday, and he thought that maybe it was his mother, wishing to invite him and her granddaughter to have a barbecue and to eat a delicious plum pie.
- Who is it?
- Am I speaking to Mr. Paul Rosemberg?
- Yes – answered Paul, really intrigued.
- I am the county sheriff... Look, I am really sorry to tell you that a neighbor has found, around half an hour ago, your ex-wife dead in her bed. We need you come over here. I am sorry.
Paul tried, with consternation, to obtain some more information, but the sheriff refused to facilitate it. He left Penny in his parents´ house, without telling her anything, and he headed to his previous home. It was surrounded by a yellow tape, and lots of neighbors and journalists were crowded outside the house. He asked for the sheriff and some agents took him immediately to the hall, in which they had improvised a kind of office for both the police and CSI.
- Paul, this is going to be complicated. We would like you to recognize your ex- wife´s body. And it´s not a scene you may like. If you prefer it, we can wait for CSI to finish and do the authentication this afternoon at the morgue.
- No, no... I wish to help in the investigation. But I don´t understand anything... Has she been murdered?
- Well... We don´t have the forensic report yet, but judging by the state of the corpse... I would say it results evident.
The sheriff took Paul upstairs, as if he already knew the whole house. He shrugged his feet, drowning, without getting to believe that all that was really happening. And in his mind, a fixed idea was harassing him: How would he explain Penny that she was not going to see her mum ever again? But all his thoughts vanished when the sheriff pointed at Cathy´s body, lying face- down on her bed. What the hell was that! His ex-wife had her neck completely rotated, obviously shattered, counterclockwise to the rest of the body. Her eyes injected with blood seemed to overwhelm the orbits of her eyes which loosely kept them attached to the face. Paul fell on his knees on the floor and broke into tears like a little baby, disconsolate.
- I´m sorry... I understand that she´s your ex-wife – the sheriff whispered, posing one of his hands in Paul´s right shoulder.
He just nodded between sobs. He thought he would faint when suddenly an image startled him: between his knees and the leg of the bed rested Penny´s doll, that wicked doll. She was lying on her side, with her perfect face of fine porcelain, and she was sending him a stare of satisfaction... Yes, she was looking at him, and she was pleased to see the pain that the crime she had committed was causing him!
THE FORGOTTEN HOUSE
At last he had spotted his dreamt place. Maybe he could leave behind, now and forever, all his problems, those damn problems that had been pushing him since a few years ago. The house has situated at the top of a small hill, just in the outskirts of the insignificant town. It was a wonderful construction of Victorian style, lovely and far away from the bustle. Exactly what he needed to recover his senses and to retake his profession: architecture.
- It is obvious that it has long been abandoned, but it´s not in bad conditions – the state agent told him, cheerful. He was a stout, friendly and talkative man.
- Okay... - he muttered, so as to say something.
- Alright then: I´ll lower your rent to 200 dollars, I´ll take care of the cleaning crew and business finished – the agent replied, shaking his hand.
- It´s an offer you cannot refuse.
The signed the rental contracts on the table of the wide kitchen. The agent was ecstatic because
he had spent more than a year trying to fix that house on someone. Its location hadn´t helped at all, but that foreigner seemed to have found exactly what he was looking for. The price of course was a bargain, but it was worth it instead of having it empty.
- This is a real opportunity.
- It´s not haunted. Is it?
The agent shook his head, forcing a smile. That strange question didn´t seem a joke, but he preferred to place it as if it was. He was a peculiar guy, but... what the hell, he had just given him six months cash in advance!
The architect came back with his stuff a couple of days later. The agent had kept his promise and the house was spotless. Yes, this time things were going to be fine.
Soon, he was trying to make some acquaintances in the zone to get some contracts. There weren´t many architects around there, so even though there weren´t many jobs, there wasn´t any competence either. Money wasn´t a big problem for him, up to now, but boredom was.
Luckily, he soon made good friends with a somehow grumpy guy, but very cult, who used to take his dog for a walk in the hill where his house was situated. His name was Tyler; buy everybody in town called him Lonely, because he was always wandering alone from one side to the other. In old times, he had written a book which brought him fame and benefits, but the early success shuttered his career, his inspiration and his dreams. He had retired to live off the rents in that place, forgotten from god´s hand.
That afternoon, he saw him coming with his dog, Daddy, a nervous Beagle who was always sniffing around his house and who didn´t stop barking at him no sooner he was at less than two meters away from chucho.
- He doesn´t like you! - exclaimed Lonely with a big smile, as he was approaching to shake his hand.
- No, that´s true. I think I have never sympathized with dogs; but my thing with Daddy is already a divorce, a real one – replied him, resigned.
- Don´t worry, architect. He´ll end up liking you.
They used to spend time chatting for a while. On some occasions, Tyler used to come inside the house and share a couple of beers, while both hypothesized about life, about life going by and about good literature. On others, they encouraged each other to provide some company during their long walks around town, just to do some exercise and stretch their legs.
Everything seemed at ease; at last he had found the right place. But no. It had to happen again. Two months after having moved into that pretty, comfortable and huge house, his nightmare returned. As usual, very late in the early morning someone was banging the door. He went down the stairs and got to the entrance with the hope that it was just a gang of bored children: it was Saturday night and in that small town a gang of adolescents couldn´t find a better way to spend their time.
- Who is this? – he yelled, to encourage himself, and to try to instill some respect.
The banging suddenly stopped. The architect slowly approached the entrance door. He knew that there was somebody at the other side. He could hear the shortness of breath. He recognized it immediately. He had had to hear it more than a thousand times during his whole life. It was like a 12 or 13 year- old- girl´s gasp. However, the banging that had just shaken his door could have been only hit by a young, strong and well- built man.
- Who are you? Leave me alone once and for all!
The breathing he was hearing was now more inaudible, almost imperceptible. As other times before, he leaned against the eyehole of the door and checked that nobody was outside. The yellowish light in the porch lighted a few meters, but enough to detect any intruder.
Suddenly, he felt a shiver of terror and he turned away from the door as if pushed by a spring. Someone had just covered the eyehole of the door, when he was trying to find out who the hell was on the other side.
- I´ll open. I carry a gun and I won´t doubt in using it – he lied.
The architect was trembling from head to toes. Ploughing up the courage from his own guts, he raised and turned the handle violently. Nobody. Absolutely nobody.
The weeks went by and, as it had been happening for many years, every dawn the same terrible experience was repeated, which was destroying his spirits. From time to time he used to think that the solution was escaping again: at least he could count on one or two months of certain tranquility. But on many occasions the idea of committing suicide crossed his mind.
- Never that! That´s the last of the possibilities. Before that, we need to exhaust all the other possibilities, even the craziest ones – sentenced Tyler, to whom he had shared his terrible secret.
- But my strength is giving out.
- Well, but now you have me to try to hold you.
Lonely had found a friend after many years, and he didn´t wish the architect to leave the town. He had gotten used to his company, the lovely walks one afternoon yes, one afternoon no, and the endless talks about books.
- You know I barely speak to people, but I have a niece in New York with whom I stay in touch via Internet. He´s a clever boy and he loves his old, grumpy uncle. He´s a psychologist. I´ll ask him to find some information about what is going on with you...
- Thanks...
Just a couple of days later, almost at dusk, Tyler was in front of the house in the hill, with a serious expression, followed by the good Daddy and carrying a handful of papers.
- Architect, there are many things in your past that you haven´t told me. I ´m a complete jerk, but my niece is a geek and he has sent me a good amount of news about you – Lonely said, as soon as he crossed the threshold of the house.
Both men sat down and had a look at the papers Tyler had brought with him. Most of them were scans of newspaper clippings, but there also were some digital reports and a couple of entries from two well- known Blogs devoted to gossip. Almost all of them were giving news about the death of a famous actress´ daughter, in a fire. The actress was married to a renowned architect. Then, they informed that the actress hadn´t put up with the pain and had ended up killing herself a few months later.
- I don´t enjoy telling my life to anyone. It´s not a tasty dish. And I don´t like to remember either... - the architect made an excuse.
- Easy, I understand. I´ve come to spend the night with you. My niece thinks that maybe you may be undergoing some psychotic episodes, and the best way would be if you put yourself in the hands of a professional. In the meantime, I´ll be by your side. Well, we will be by your side. Daddy is staying too. By the way, since I came here he hasn´t barked at you even once!
Both of them went to sleep. The architect felt more at ease than ever. He didn´t regret having told Tyler the whole truth. Maybe, that was what he should have done from the beginning. The idea of being suffering from psychotic episodes wasn´t funny at all, but letting someone help him was the best he could do... once and for all.
They decided to sleep in the hall, because there were two big sofas which would allow them to sleep next to each other, without the uncomfortable obligation of having to sleep in the only bed upstairs. The first part of the night passed with calm and peace, but in the very early morning, some knocking awoke both men abruptly.
- Have you heard it? – the architect inquired, anxious.
- How on earth would I not be able to hear it! I have just had a terrible damn fright – Tyler replied, upset.
Daddy also awoke, and he was barking at the door as if he was possessed. The architect approached it, and without undue he opened it. Nobody.
- You see? There´s no one ever on the other side! And now we can´t say that I´m mad... You heard it too, even Daddy heard it! – the architect exclaimed, banging the door closed.
- Of course my friend... Either something very strange is happening here, or your madness is contagious – Lonely joked, trying to diminish the importance of the matter, even though he was utterly worried.
Some minutes of uncomfortable silence went by. Both men were reflecting, trying to draw conclusions from what had just happened. In the meantime, Daddy hadn´t stopped growling and huffing. An
d then, a succession of new banging startled them.
- Wait! Don´t open – the architect said, holding Tyler´s arm, which was approaching the door handle with rage.
- What do you mean?
- Just a moment...
The architect got closer to the keyhole and observed. There was no one in the outside porch. After just a few seconds he could feel that agitated breathing which was so childish that made him crazy.
- Do you hear it?
Tyler nodded. He didn´t understand anything. Maybe, in reality he was sleeping soundly on his bed, and influenced by all the information his niece had sent him now he was being captive of a terrible nightmare. But no, he knew this was real. At the other side of the door someone, or something, was breathing. It was creepy.
- Let me peep through the keyhole – Lonely suggested, as if driven by a sudden strange feeling.
The architect let his friend pass, thinking that he wasn´t sure what his intentions were, but he had nothing to lose. Tyler approached slowly the keyhole. He felt as if his heart was running away from his mouth, he felt the beats swelling the veins in his throat, which were compressing against the neck of his pure cotton shirt. And at last he could contemplate the outside... A thunder of horror fired in his guts. Standing in the front door, there was a girl, with her clothes and body almost completely charred, and her empty eye sockets fixed in the eyehole... She was challenging him from the porch! And she looked really pissed.
