by Yvonne Heidt
Loud footsteps sounded on the stairs. Her throat clenched and Natalie couldn’t breathe. Deep, masculine laughter boomed and echoed around the dark room.
Natalie screamed. “Go away, you’re not real!”
Beth cried out. “The key!”
The easel moved with unseen force and flew at Natalie’s head.
*
Van stood at the front door and shook the rain from her hair. What was taking Natalie so long to answer? Her car was out front.
Was someone crying? One moment she could hear it and the next, the sound was swept away by the wind. Van left the porch to check out the front windows. There were lights on in the third floor turret.
Natalie screamed and adrenaline flooded Van’s veins. She ran around to the back to use her key and raced through the house then pounded up the stairs. It was quiet now. Too quiet. Van was dimly aware of a pressure on her chest when she tried to open the door to the studio. It was stuck. She wanted to smash through it, but the door opened outward.
The knob finally turned and she flew up the stairs. When she saw Natalie on the floor she ran to her. She was struggling for breath and Van could see her rapid pulse pounding in her neck.
Van was alarmed at how cold she was. “Natalie?” She patted her face. “Baby, wake up.” When she didn’t get any reaction, she shook harder. “Come on, come back to me.”
“Van?” she whispered. “Be careful of the glass.”
“What glass?”
Natalie gained her feet and tried to drag Van to the stairs. “We have to hide. He’s here!”
Van used force to still her. “Sweetheart, there’s no one here.”
Natalie looked around with wide eyes. Everything looked normal. The window was closed and in one piece; the easel was still set up where she placed it. “It was so real.”
“What happened, Natalie?” Van led her to the chair and sat her down.
Natalie told her about the painting and apparent shift of reality.
Van believed her. How could she not after hearing everything that happened in this house? “What key?”
Natalie’s color looked better. “I have no idea.”
“Have you eaten today?”
“No, I was up here painting for hours.” Natalie finally stood and walked over to the canvas then cried out in shock.
Van rushed over to see what she was seeing.
The canvas was completely white.
*
Natalie tried to call her mother. “Damn it. Nothing but static.”
“Here, try mine.”
“No signal.” Natalie went to the refrigerator and started to pull together a fruit and cheese tray. “Grab me some crackers out of the pantry, could you please?” She still felt a little shaky, but refused to give in to the fear.
“Do you want to go to my place?”
She looked over at Van and noticed how pale she was. “God, I’m sorry. I never thought how this might be affecting you; how insane I must seem.”
“It is a little surreal.” Van popped a grape into her mouth. “When I was using the restroom earlier, I thought I heard somebody walking upstairs and I could almost swear I heard somebody tell me to get out. You have to admit it’s a little scary. Okay, it’s a lot scary.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave,” Natalie said. “I would understand.” So much for her budding romance, she thought sadly.
“Don’t you want to after that scene upstairs?” Van pointed to the ceiling. “Aren’t you afraid at all?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.” The chilling memory of the—what should she call it, vision—was fading, but Natalie’s heart still felt wounded. The pain she felt was real, even if it wasn’t actually hers.
Van’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Do you want to leave?”
Natalie thought of how many times she’d bowed to someone else’s expectations and did exactly what they thought she should. Her fear was replaced with defiance. The only victims here, as she saw it, were Beth and Sarah. “No, I want to stay and help them.” Her voice came out as strong as she suddenly felt.
“How?”
“I have to find the key.”
“Okay, where do we start?”
Natalie felt her heart skip a beat; she said “we.” It appeared that Van wasn’t going to run screaming into the night. “I’m guessing we have to solve the mystery.”
“Shouldn’t we call in a paranormal team or something?”
The question amused Natalie. “My mother just left the other day. For most of my life, I accepted strange occurrences that didn’t necessarily have any logical explanation, things that others aren’t comfortable with. I got used to keeping most of it to myself for so long, I shut out my gift.” This is another reason why, Natalie thought, she’d stayed in her sham of a marriage so long. Once you started building a brick wall of denial, it became easy to hide all sorts of things behind it.
“Okay,” Van said. “Let’s run this all down from the beginning.”
Natalie began her story at the point she drove away from her old house.
Van listened while she wrote a bullet list. The whole thing was beginning to sound like a Hollywood script, except it was coming from Natalie, and she had a part in the movie. Everything that happened sounded irrational, but after having her own experience in the house, Van couldn’t help but feel the story was plausible.
“This all fits in with what my dad said at dinner,” she said when Natalie finished. “So the previous owners were only haunted by who they called the dark man, and we know as Richard.”
Natalie nodded. “The asshole bully.”
Van grinned; she couldn’t help but think it was cute, hearing Natalie swear with that sweet voice of hers. “Back to the list. When you moved in, you dreamt of Sarah, who appeared to have thought you were Beth, who was married to the asshole bully, who also happened to be Sarah’s brother.”
“Pretty much, that’s how I see it,” Natalie said.
“And…” Van looked at her list. “You realized you were a lesbian during the course of the initial dreams.”
“In the beginning, I think the dreams made some kind of connection. But I was sure when I met you.”
“This brings us to my first connection, an ancestor who worked on this property.” Van drew an arrow from her name to Natalie’s on her paper. “The second connection I see is us together as a couple.”
The basement door rattled in its frame and the hair rose on the back of Van’s neck. “Jesus Christ, Natalie. A sane woman would run.”
“Apparently, we pissed somebody off.”
Van made eye contact with Natalie. She was already far more attached to her than she ever thought she would be when she met her. She loved that she looked fierce and not afraid. “Doesn’t this feel a little pre-ordained to you?” Van didn’t know how to feel about that at the moment, that someone or something else could plot her destiny.
Natalie looked thoughtful. “Because of the fact that I am the spitting image of Beth? Which, by the way, kind of gives me the willies, or because Beth moved in here and fell in love with Sarah?”
Van drew one more arrow. “Looks like both.”
“Then I have to dig deeper to find more connections and the key.”
A cool breeze blew through the kitchen. “Do you smell lavender?” Van asked.
Natalie nodded. “I’m going to take that as Beth and Sarah’s agreeing with us and I’m not giving Richard a fucking inch.”
“You’re becoming quite the potty mouth.”
Natalie blushed and started to say something, but Van interrupted her. “No, it’s okay. I like it.” Natalie had many facets and she found them all interesting. Life may have been much simpler before she met her, but it sure as hell wasn’t as fascinating. She raised her water glass. “Here’s to not giving Richard a fucking inch.” She was done with the frightful portion of the evening’s program.
“Let’s go back to the part about you being certain of
being a lesbian.” Van stood and beckoned Natalie closer. “C’mere and show me.” She opened her arms and held her tight before tipping her head for a kiss. Her mouth had barely touched Natalie’s when the front door slammed, rattling the stained glass panels in their frames. Van startled and drew blood when she accidently nipped Natalie’s lower lip. “I’m sorry, ” she said. “That door was locked when I got here.”
“Welcome to Natalie Land,” she said solemnly. “All spooky, all the time.”
“Where were we? Oh yes…” She spun Natalie around and nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.”
Natalie sighed against her cheek. “So, Van, you want to see my etchings?”
“Oh yeah.” Van followed her up the stairs.
*
Natalie ran outside into the dark night and pouring rain. Frantically, she looked around the overgrown yard and tried to place where the fountain should be. Thorns scraped and tore at her flesh as she pulled out brush with her bare hands. Her legs caught in the blackberry vines and she fell but did not stop tearing at the wall of weeds in front of her. It’s here, I know it. Please, I have to find it. She pushed back her wet hair and pulled the last branch out of her way. She’d found the fountain. The once beautiful structure was now broken, the cherub missing from his perch. There was no cheerful bubbling; the water was dark, murky, and full of dead things. Natalie fell to her knees before the wreckage and bowed her head. Thunder rolled across the sky and a crack of lightning flashed overhead and startled Natalie into a rocking motion on her knees. Heart wrenching pain churned through her, and she cried in the dark. What was she looking for?
“Oh, honey, what happened to you?” Van dropped to her knees beside her.
Natalie looked at her and held out her hands, noticing blood for the first time. Dirt crusted under her fingernails and she was covered with nicks and scratches. “I found the fountain.” Her throat felt scratchy and hoarse. She pointed to the crumbling structure just visible under a mountain of weeds, brush, and blackberry vines. She must have dug it out when she was…what? Sleepwalking? Her hands burned and she couldn’t seem to stop crying.
“Come on. Let’s get you to the house, okay?” Strong arms lifted her from the mud.
Van’s eyes locked with Natalie’s, the steady gaze making it easier for Natalie to pull herself together. Her knees threatened to give out, but Van held her steady through the house and back to the bedroom.
In the bright bathroom light, Natalie winced at her reflection. Her eyes looked too large for her face and several scratches welted her skin. Natalie limped to the edge of the tub while Van rubbed her down with a thick towel and then started picking sticks and brambles out of Natalie’s wet and tangled hair.
This had to be the breaking point, Natalie thought. This is where Van would run. Hell, she wanted to run herself. Van held her chin gently and wiped her face.
“I woke up and you were gone.”
“How did you know I was outside?”
“I heard someone crying.”
Natalie considered the location she had found her. “But how could you have heard me from here? It’s a long ways back and it’s pouring rain outside.”
“I repeat, I heard crying.”
“I don’t remember going outside. God, I don’t even recall falling asleep.” The last thing Natalie remembered was being completely sated and entwined with Van, inhaling her scent while she contentedly stroked the arm that held her. “Ouch!”
“I’m sorry,” Van said. “Sit still. I have a few more to pull out. I think you’re going to need a bath to clean out the scratches so I can see what I’m doing here.”
“You act as if you find naked and muddy women outside in the rain every night of the week.”
“Nope you’re the first.”
Natalie thought this must be the most bizarre night of her life. She was flirting and falling for Van while having the worst nightmares she’d ever experienced. The severe contradiction of emotion was leaving her a little hysterical around the edges and she was having a hard time processing the opposing feelings. She took a couple of deep breaths. She could do this; just one step at a time was all that was required.
“Have you ever walked in your sleep before?”
Natalie shook her head then shivered. “It’s a little fuzzy, but I remember seeing Richard ripping something from Beth’s neck and throwing it out the window.”
“Did you see what it was?”
Natalie tried to focus but couldn’t quite grasp the details. “No, I just knew it was imperative that I find what was hidden out there. I was consumed with grief, like someone I loved had died.”
Van looked away and Natalie realized what she had said. “I’m so sorry.” One more ghost for her to deal with.
“It’s okay. I know the feeling. Let’s get the tub filled.” Natalie and Van went into the large shower to rinse off with the handheld attachment while the bathtub filled. When Natalie opened the door, she darted a glance to the mirror to see if there were any messages and was relieved when she saw none.
She crossed to sit back on the ledge and Van knelt between her legs, resting her forehead against hers. Natalie felt Van’s rapid pulse in their joined hands. “I’m sorry, Van. I feel stupid about this whole thing.”
“Hush. Let me hold you for a minute. You were gone and I heard crying. I think my heart stopped for a second when I saw the front door standing open.” Van brought Natalie’s hand to her lips and kissed her scratches gently. “Honey, if you wanted the yard done tonight, you could have just asked.”
And there it was, Natalie thought, her reassurance that she hadn’t scared Van away. Not yet, anyway. She laughed softly, grateful for the olive branch. “I think next time, I just might,” she said as she slipped into the water. “Oh God, that burns. I have scratches everywhere.”
“And I’m going to kiss every one of them.”
Natalie flashed on Van’s excellent kisses then admired the way her biceps flexed when she reached for the soap and washcloth to make lather while Natalie picked the last of the sticks out of her hair.
“Lay back.”
Natalie ducked under. When she surfaced she lay back on the seat, lifting a leg to check for wounds. Van held her calf and washed her feet.
“They aren’t as bad as I thought. Give me the other one now.”
Natalie braced on her elbows with both legs in the air. Van used small, circular motions to travel higher on her thighs. The sensation was incredibly hypnotic and Natalie sighed softly, opening her knees to give Van more access to continue the caresses. Her eyes closed and she willed Van to reach the flesh that quivered in anticipation of her touch.
The phone rang in the bedroom, startling Natalie into sitting.
“Who is that at this time of night?” Van asked.
Natalie felt heavy with desire but tried to pull herself out of her sexual haze. “It’s my mother.”
*
The sun was just rising when Van crept into the bathroom to get dressed. She had just enough time to go home and shower before she should be at work. She hunkered beside Natalie and kissed her gently, so as not to wake her. They had stayed up even later after Natalie’s mother suggested they burn more sage and white candles. Even so, she had serious misgivings about leaving her alone.
“Morning,” Natalie said sleepily. “Running off on me?”
“No. I just wanted to kiss your pretty face before I have to go to work.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“Best day of the week for us.” She pulled a strand of hair out of Natalie’s eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”
“I’ll be fine.” Natalie looked at the clock and groaned before she slid back under the covers. “I’m going to go back to sleep for a while.”
“Are you sure?”
“Van, I’ll be fine. Go.”
“Are artists always so grumpy in the morning?”
“Only the really good, creative ones, bye now.”
Van kissed her again, linge
ring. She didn’t want to leave, but her father depended on her. She kissed Natalie’s bandaged hands and backed out of the room. The hallway still held traces of the sage burned only a short time ago.
It reminded Van that there was something to guard against. The unexplained events she’d experienced had left her a little numb, a little disoriented. And, she could admit to herself, a little afraid and uneasy. Sunlight streamed in the stained glass windows, reflecting a happy rainbow of color on the hardwood, but Van still felt chilled.
When she rounded the bed of her truck, she spotted the silver hairbrush and train case she’d meant to return to Natalie. Because of all the excitement last night, she had forgotten to bring it in. Since she had already locked the front door, she went around the side of the house and left the items on the kitchen table with a note, being careful to latch the back door on her way out.
Van didn’t have too much time to worry. As soon as she’d set up the booth, the farmers market was swamped with locals and tourists. She was glad that she’d had the foresight to hire some help. It was difficult to think of darkness and hundred-year-old ghosts when the sun was bright and she heard nothing but happy chatter around her.
She took advantage of a small lull around ten thirty and called Natalie. When she didn’t pick up, she felt some apprehension, but let it go when two more customers approached. Natalie was probably still sleeping.
*
Natalie was headed to the kitchen to make coffee when the cold hit her like a sharp slap.
“Give it a rest, would you?” Natalie snapped. Her entire body hurt from her impromptu excavation of the fountain last night. She would have thought that doing another house cleansing would have, at the very least, bought her another evening free of ghosts.
She turned and saw the train case and hair brush on the table. The items that Van’s crew found yesterday after an employee had been injured. Blood energy, she thought and felt the top of her head tingle.
