Seeking Samiel

by Catherine Jordan

  Her face, filled with concern, became amusing. I smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. No way." I shook my head back and forth.

  Knocking thumped overhead.

  "There it is again," Lindsey said, looking upward. The noise stopped.

  Another thump. "I've heard it before," I said, both of us staring at the ceiling. "I thought it was the pipes. It comes and goes. It's gotten louder. I've followed the noise to her room, but when I open the door, nothing. She's always asleep when it happens."

  The thumping continued.

  "I'm going up," she said, pushing passed me. "Wait here."

  The pounding stopped abruptly overhead, and I guessed Lindsey was at the bedroom door. She would open it and find nothing as I had done many times before. I was resolved to leave and allow her to be the one to fix everything. I had poured myself into work and had pushed Caroline aside, telling myself that she would soon recover, that Lindsey would pick up wherever I left off. But I never thought Lindsey would be so decisive, so swift.

  I moved into the living room and settled on the couch, waiting.

  40--CAROLINE

  Caroline saw them in her mind and in her room. She closed her eyes and saw one with a clown's white face, red curly wig, black eyebrows and red painted on lips, but the nose was a dog's snout, elongated and red. It snarled and its canine jaws snapped at her. She opened her eyes and it disappeared. Closed them and it appeared again. Their looks scared her, but their words--those deep, raspy voices--brought a freezing chill to the middle of her stomach. She could ignore the one living in the wall. Its long, thin arm dangled from the hole. The armoire Jeffrey plopped against the hole had picked itself up and slid back to its worn carpet spot on the floor.

  Caroline focused on the skyline outside the window and counted the clouds until her eyes began to hurt. Even her eyebrows throbbed. Her eyes were so dry that she worried she'd peel off her corneas with the next blink.

  Mother was at the door; that was her knocking now. One, two, three knocks.

  Mr. Granger knocked, too, its shoulder almost through the wall. Granger said little, but its words were big, weighty.

  Caroline kept her eyes on the window, raising her head when a little songbird flew by. She wanted to jump out the window and onto its back, hoping it would take her somewhere safe and warm. As it flew out of view, another shrieked after it, big and black. Caroline lowered her gaze and slumped into the bed's headboard.

  "You're awake," Mother said, pushing the door open. "I heard banging. Pretty loud." Caroline sensed Mother's eyes fixed upon her. "Everything all right?"

  Caroline wanted to tell Mother how she felt, her love selfish and needy, but couldn't find her voice. It was lost with the rest of her. She especially needed Mother now, like she had when she was a little girl. Caroline wanted Mother to run into her room and wake her from the bad dreams, soothe her with rationale, distract her thoughts with the safety net of those open hands; hands that squeezed and embraced her tightly.

  The first night Mr. Granger knocked Caroline had thought it was only a nightmare. That was the night of Eva's party. Everything changed that night, even Jeffrey. He had withdrawn, and the next morning, his voice held something she'd never heard before--a brutality rising to the surface. What happened at Eva's party had affected them both.

  Caroline stared past Mother. Mr. Granger, unseen by Mother, was working its way out of the hole behind the door. The hole got bigger every time it came through, covered with a thin layer of mucus like it had been birthed. Caroline sunk deeper into the headboard, shaking her head.

  "Is this the same hole?" Mother asked. Mother circled the room, looking for something, and Caroline held her breath when she stepped in front of Mr. Granger's extended arm, fingers splayed, reaching for her pant hem.

  41

  Caroline had followed Mena inside the house. She had intended to use the bathroom, and along the way, check out the precious items Eva might have on display. If anything was small enough, she might help herself to it or note it for later. Later, when Daddy was home, she would say to her father, "I saw that beautiful piece of crystal, or whatever, on her table, and thought it would look nice in our house. Where did she get it, Daddy? Might you buy one for me?"

  The moment Caroline stepped through Eva's doorway she heard the house's heartbeat, felt its breath in her face. "I . . . my Daddy told me to stay outside," Caroline said, backing her way towards the door, the door that had already swung shut. Her guard was up, but she tried to appear composed.

  "Eva is upstairs," Mena said. "She wants to see you."

  "But I just saw her." Caroline turned to the closed door, knowing that Eva and her father and Jeffrey were outside on the lawn. Only she and Mena were in the house.

  "She's upstairs," Mena said. "You're father wouldn't mind if you saw your own sister, would he? Hurry," Mena said, "she's waiting for you."

  Caroline put one tentative foot on the first step, then another. She took a few more steps, her eyes taking in the weirdness around her as she climbed. Upstairs was black. The blackness moved, and with every step Caroline took, the blackness slipped down the steps and along the walls.

  Horror--that was what crept over her like those shadows on the wall. Whatever thoughts were left in her mind had been blown from ear to ear. She was incapable of thought, movement, sound. Her muscles warmed, her skin chilled, and the combined sensation almost brought her to her knees. They gave out for a second and her legs went slack, but then she locked them. She willed herself not to blackout.

  One large shadow broke away from the black. It slid down the stairs and settled on the wall to her right. She sensed that it wanted to take form, to grow legs that would chase her and arms that would grab. Unable to avert her eyes from that particular shadow, she didn't move until Mena said, "This way," calling from a few steps above. Caroline's eyes went from Mena back to the dripping shadow, which had disappeared. She took two wobbly steps back.

  "Don't you want to see what Eva has for you?" Mena asked. "Isn't that why you're here, to get what's yours--to have a piece of Eva? Her show is about to start. Eva wants you to be a part of it, but you have to hurry."

  It was then that Caroline noticed the moving walls. They came towards her, closing in on her, until she could reach out both arms and touch them. It had happened so quickly, she hadn't time to turn around and run back down, to escape the house. She pushed against both walls with open palms and one hand caved through, opening a hole. She pulled her hand back as quickly as it had gone in. The hole was a small opening, no bigger than her fist. Red liquid oozed out and it filled the air with a metallic smell. The ooze was thick and . . . the wall was bleeding. Fat droplets ran down the wall and onto the floor.

  "You found a weak spot," Mena said. She pulled a paisley scarf from her sleeve and sopped the syrupy blood off the floor. A tiny fleck of drywall had dropped onto Caroline's shoe when she pulled her hand from the hole. She snatched it up whilst Mena wiped at the blood, holding it tight in her fist, intending to carry it away as a charm.

  If you could only catch a drop of that precious blood, said a voice inside her head.

  If Eva's seeds could turn lead into gold and produce rain, then what kind of magik lay within these bleeding walls? Mena stuffed the cloth into the hole and said, "That should stop it from crawling out."

  Caroline heard Mena, but had no idea what she meant by it. If she had, she never would have taken that scarf. Hindsight. If only.

  Caroline had to have that scarf, had to have the blood that was soaked inside it. When Mena turned away Caroline snagged the scarf and wadded it inside her purse. She couldn't explain the newfound greed that had come over her. Ever since she read Eva's book, desire had a vice-like grip on her will and Caroline wanted what the author offered--power, money. More money. Tremendous power. Like Eva's. To be just like Eva.

  They continued up the stairs, into the black. At the top landing, Caroline swatted at the tickle on her face. As a ray of light shot down from the opening in
the ceiling, Caroline saw that it was a rope that had landed on her face; Mena clutched its end in her hand. A set of stairs slid out.

  She led Caroline up the rickety steps, and when she reached the top, she awed over a life-sized portrait of a woman clothed in long red hair, looking up into the clouds. Animals at her bare feet also had their necks stretched skyward. There were other paintings in the room--an art gallery, she supposed--but Caroline hadn't a chance to look at any of others.

  Caroline stiffened when she saw movement from within the frame. Everything moved in that house. A hand reached out of the portrait, the grasp searing hot around Caroline's wrist, boiling the blood under her skin. The hand belonged to the redhead and she stared into Caroline's face with bright green eyes. The animals snarled and the clouds darkened. Her hair fell out of the portrait and touched the wooden floor below the frame. Caroline twisted away from the burning hand, too stunned by the pain to scream. Her fist spasmed closed, locking in the piece of drywall. Mena pushed Caroline closer to the portrait and Caroline tripped, falling out of reach, but not before the redhead claimed Caroline's purse, trapping it within the portrait. The scarf that had been in her purse fluttered to the floor. Caroline snatched it back. She scrambled down the attic stairs and ran clumsily down the main staircase.

  Mena tackled her just as she met the front door. Caroline hit the ground and her fists opened. She would not risk losing the drywall fleck, so she shoved it in her mouth.

  "Give it back!" Mena screamed, her knees pinning Caroline face up, shoulders to the ground. Mena's skirt flapped behind her and a black tail fell with a wet slap onto the floor. Fingers scratched at her lips, digging into her gums. Something long and black and wet slid across Mena's knee and onto Caroline's face. Caroline opened her mouth to scream and gagged on the drywall. Mena's fingers reached down Caroline's throat, past her uvula, and the thing that had been on her face was in her mouth, probing her cheeks. Caroline dry heaved, and then swallowed. Once the drywall was down her throat and beyond reach, Mena withdrew her fingers before Caroline's teeth could make contact. The thing in her mouth, on her face, was also gone.

  Mena stood and the black tail wormed off the floor and returned under her skirt, wrapping itself into place around her thigh, flattening against her skin to become nothing more than a snake tattoo. "We'll get it out of you. You can keep the scarf."

  Caroline balled the scarf in her hand. Her stomach contracted, rejecting the drywall, and Mena's face looked hopeful. Caroline placed a hand over her mouth, swallowing the drywall back down.

  "It's not of this world, and won't stay within you," Mena said. She then turned towards the staircase. Caroline sat up, her eyes following Mena's. The walls were back in their place, facing each other on opposite ends of the house, but the hole looked like it had been pushed out, not in. "It's out," Mena said, matter of fact.

  Caroline crawled over the threshold and pulled herself up along the open doorframe. "It will follow you," she predicted as Caroline stumbled across the lawn towards the seated guests.

  42

  "I thought we puttied this up," Mother said, taking twelve steps away from Mr. Granger's extended arm that reached out to grab her, and sat on the bed's edge. Caroline closed her eyes in relief, as if her silent prayer--You leave my mother alone--had just been answered. Mother pulled at the thin comforter hanging over the side of the bed and tucked it around Caroline. "You keep this room too cold. Let's open the window. It's hot outside and the fresh air will clear it out." She walked over to the window and pushed.

  "Stuck," Caroline whispered, unheard. Mother tried one more time, and then sighed, dropping her arms.

  "How do you feel?" Mother asked, a weak smile on her face. She rubbed Caroline's cold cheek with the back of her hand. "We're looking for Eva's book."

  Caroline winced at the mention of her name. "Mr. . . . took it," Caroline said.

  "You mean Jeffrey? Jeffrey said Tatwaba took it," Mother said.

  Caroline remembered Tatwaba spitting on it.

  "Where did you get it?" Mother asked.

  Caroline sighed, ready to answer. She realized that her attempt to explain what few would believe, even if they'd seen it with their own eyes, would be modest at best. She blinked seven times, and then opened her mouth, desperate for her tongue to spit out something coherent, to work in tandem with her brain whilst it still functioned.

  The words came out slowly. "I took a walk through town about a few months ago, I think, and passed shops, one by one, window shopping. The bookstore in town had a sign in the window advertising this new book, and it looked like a self-help book, like something I needed." Caroline paused, taking a breath. "I saw the author was my sister and I knew I had to have it. No one told me she had written a book. Daddy never let me go to her house, because you don't like her, so I thought."

  Mother squeezed Caroline's hand.

  "The sales girl told me that the book wasn't in any other stores yet. They were waiting for the author's book party, and then the book would be released to other stores." She paused for another breath. "People sat in the bookstore in comfortable chairs, reading. I thought I'd page through it, then buy it. I'd get myself invited to that book party."

  Caroline fidgeted with her sheets, twisting the corner seven times to the left.

  "The book had a lock and I couldn't open it. The salesgirl tried to help me, and reached for the key. I thought she took me for an idiot and resented her at once. I got angry, pulled the book away, told her I could manage and to mind her own business." Another pause, another breath. "The key fascinated me and I couldn't wait to insert it into the lock. I wanted to read it, and then lock those secrets away." Caroline twisted her sheets seven times to the right.

  "The book got heavier after I left the store. I couldn't carry it, so I sat on a bench outside the bookstore and time stopped as I devoured the pages." Caroline felt an urge to hold back, to keep the truth to herself. Would Mother believe what she was about to say? Caroline decided it wouldn't matter what she thought, as long as she stayed by her side. And right then, she was riveted to Caroline's bedside. "When I got to the last page I shut it, and it was then that I noticed the cover was not the same. It had changed. But I thought that maybe I had bought a different copy."

  Mr. Granger poked its head out of the hole. It twisted, maneuvering one shoulder at a time through the opening in the wall.

  "The secrets to the universe had unfolded before me, and I had to test the theories in her book. The book came with little black seeds that looked like pepper. The seeds brought water to my pathetic garden out back, and they turned a piece of lead into gold, which I used to buy a new dress and perfume. I needed new clothes, new shoes, hats; everything I owned smelled. After I wore an outfit it stunk, so I threw it out. I went through deodorant and perfume like water bottles." Granger worked its torso through the hole, slime scraping off its skin and onto the drywall. Granger locked eyes with Caroline. She would not let Granger intimidate her and looked away from it to Mother.

  "I found myself in the Shanty, scrounging around at night for lead. I didn't realize what was happening to me." Caroline began to twist the sheets again, seven times to the left. "I bought more dresses, shoes, jewelry. Then I ran out of seeds. The bookstore ran out of copies of her book."

  Granger was pulling its last leg out.

  "I discovered the invitation to her party tucked away in Jeffrey's briefcase, and I used Jeffrey to get myself onto her property, telling myself that this would benefit us both, that I'd get another copy and show the seeds to Jeffrey; let him use the gold towards his debt."

  She was afraid for Jeffrey. It was after that first sip of the potion at the party that Jeffrey fell out of love with Caroline and in love with Eva. That's what Granger told her, anyway. The drink put dormers over his eyes, shielding him from seeing the truth. Granger also told her that Eva needed his DNA and that Eva thought Samiel had taken possession of Jeffrey. Jeffrey was no longer hers. He would belong to Eva. Granger said Jef
frey's pity for her bordered on disgust. Caroline feared that his disgust would turn to hatred. Thoughts of disgust, Granger said, were always on Jeffrey's mind. Granger said that what goes on in the mind eventually comes out through the mouth.

  "Mena took me into that house." Caroline moaned and rolled onto her side, away from her mother, clutching her stomach.

  Mother leaned across Caroline, smoothing her hair away from her pasty forehead.

  "I feel sorry for Daddy," Caroline said.

  "Sorry? Why?" Mother asked.

  "He had to make a choice. I think he made the wrong one, and I'm afraid we're never going to see him again."

  Mother didn't say anything at first. "Your eyes. When did they turn green?" she asked.

  "A couple months ago," Caroline said. "I've been keeping them closed. I didn't want anyone to see."

  The knocking began from the corner behind her mother. Granger leaned against the wall outside the hole, legs outstretched, arm raised over its head, fist knocking. Mother turned towards the sound. Three knocks, then a pause, then two. Then the pattern repeated. "What is that?" she asked, facing Caroline. "I'm getting you out of this house. We'll get through this." She squeezed, pulling on Caroline. "We will. I promise."

  43--JEFFREY

  I dozed on the couch after Lindsey had gone up to Caroline's bedroom.

  Screaming and pounding. The ceiling creaked and shook, ready to collapse on top of me. I ran to the stairs and stopped as Lindsey half tumbled down them.

  She choked and sniffed, as if strangling. One hand clasped shut, she pushed me aside with the other and she ran out the front door, hacking, gagging, and crying. I turned to the steps.

  Upstairs was quiet. Down the hall, her bedroom door stood open. The bed had been flipped, frame and all, and the upended caster wheels spun silently. All the bedroom furniture was stacked on the frame, including the carpet, which had been rolled up in a heap and lay on the top. Warm, dry air blew in through the broken window.