Stranger in the Woods

by Geof Johnson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Geof Johnson

  ISBN: 978-1-6822270-0-8

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Thanks to Valerie Johnson for her helpful suggestions and editing expertise.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  So far, it seemed like a normal day.

  Zach rode home from school with his mother, just as he normally did.

  His mother said what she normally said when the garage door slid up and revealed the black Escalade that was still there. “Looks like your father didn’t go job hunting.”

  “Maybe he went, but he got home already. He said he might go out looking today.”

  “Honey, he always says that.”

  “Maybe he did it online. He said that’s better, anyway. Saves gas.”

  His mother didn’t answer as she steered her Honda into the open space next to the big SUV. She switched off the ignition, turned toward Zach and opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, but closed her eyes instead and sighed.

  “Really, Mom. That’s what I would do, if it were me.”

  “He needs to meet people face-to-face, Zach, so he can look them in the eyes and shake their hand, not sit at home all day in his bathrobe watching television.”

  They left the car and went through the door that led to the kitchen. She set her purse on the counter by the sink and called, “John?”

  Zach hung his backpack in its normal spot by the window, a hook his father had installed six years ago when Zach started kindergarten.

  “Maybe he’s napping on the couch,” his mother said. “I don’t hear the TV.”

  He followed her into the family room, which was quiet and dark. “It’s depressing in here.” She went to the nearest window and twisted the long rod that opened the blinds, and light poured in. “That’s better. Now it doesn’t look like a tomb.” She headed toward the hall and called again, “John?”

  “Shhh!” Zach hissed. “You’ll wake him up.”

  “He needs to be awake. It’s almost five o’clock and it’s a beautiful spring day. He’s still got time to mow the grass before dinner.” She pushed open their bedroom door. “John? Where are you?”

  “Maybe he went for a walk.”

  “Not hardly. He might walk to the kitchen for a snack, on a good day.”

  “Give him a break, Mom. He’s just been tired lately. That’s all.”

  “Tired of lazing around the house, more like.” She knocked on the bathroom door and waited a moment. “Maybe he fell asleep in the tub.” She turned the knob and pushed it open.

  Then she screamed.

  * * *

  Liz steered the car off of Interstate 40 onto the westbound two-lane road and read the odometer. “We should be there in about an hour and a half.” Zach didn’t reply, so she glanced at him, sitting beside her with his earbuds in, staring out of the passenger window. She raised her voice and said, “Zach, did you hear me?”

  He twisted his head toward her and gave her a narrow-eyed look, then turned back to the scenery and whatever music he was listening to.

  “Honey, talk to me, for gosh sakes. You haven’t said two words since we left Raleigh.”

  He faced her again and said, “Word, word, word. Are you happy now?”

  “Are you trying to be funny?”

  He shrugged, barely, and looked away.

  “I don’t think—” She bit her lip, forcing calm into her response. “Are you going to sulk all the way to Whitmer?”

  He answered with another small shrug.

  “Why are you so mad at me?”

  He snatched his earbuds out and spun in his seat to fully face her, his jaw tight. “Why are you making me move away from Raleigh?”

  “This again?” She let out an exasperated burst of air. “How many times do I have to tell you? I couldn’t afford that house anymore.” She couldn’t bear the thought of going into that bathroom again, either. It had taken Edie, her best friend, most of an afternoon to scour the blood off the tiles around the tub.

  “You could’ve bought another house.”

  “Not in that neighborhood and not on my salary. We were already two months behind on our mortgage. We were lucky Mrs. Panos was able to sell it for as much as she did. Otherwise we’d be in big trouble.”

  “So? We could’ve moved to another neighborhood.”

  “Not in your school district. Everything that was available was way out of our price range, so we would’ve ended up somewhere else and you would’ve had to change schools, anyway. Isn’t that what this all about?”

  Again, another barely detectable shrug.

  “Zach. Arggh!” She squeezed the steering wheel with both hands and fought to keep her tone level as she spoke. “We’re lucky things turned out as well as they did for us. They could be really bad, you know. I found a decent-paying job, we got rid of most our debts, and we have a place to stay for free.”

  “Yeah, an old haunted house.”

  “It’s not haunted! It’s just that nobody’s lived there for about a year. It’s fine.”

  “Bet it’s got spiders and snakes and rats in it.”

  “No. It doesn’t.” She measured every word carefully as she said them. “Your grandfather has been looking after it, and he said it’s livable. It’s still got furniture in it, though I don’t how much of it we’ll keep. It belonged to my great uncle, and Aunt Winnie put some of her things in it, too, so it’s probably not my style.”

  “So what do we do with our stuff? I like our furniture.”

  “We’ll see what’s already there and pick what we want to keep and give the rest to charity or sell it. It’s a big house. There’s plenty of room for everything, according to my Dad. We can store some things in the garage if necessary.”

  “What about cable TV and Internet and stuff?”

  “I think Aunt Winnie had the house wired for cable, though it won’t be turned on, yet. Neither will the phone. Just electricity and water.”

  “How long?”

  “Before it’s turned on? A few days, mayb
e.”

  “A few days? What am I supposed to do?”

  “You can watch TV at your grandfather’s. It’s only two houses down from ours. Or you can read, or maybe meet some of the neighborhood kids.”

  “There aren’t any kids in that neighborhood. It’s nothing but old people.”

  “You haven’t been there since you were seven, honey. Somebody’s probably moved in by now.”

  “You mean somebody old. Old people, old houses, old everything.”

  She glanced at him again and couldn’t help feeling sorry for him when she saw the dejected look on his face. She knew this move was hard on him. Not only did he lose his father, he was losing his friends and everything he was familiar with. “Don’t you want to hear a little more about my job? We haven’t talked about it that much.” He didn’t answer, so she continued anyway, “I’ll be working in the attendance office. That’ll be something new for me. I’m excited about it.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be an English teacher.”

  “They didn’t have any openings, but they did in the front office. I told you that already.”

  “It’s my school?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you were working at the high school.”

  “They don’t have a separate middle school. Well, they did, but they combined it with the high school when they built the new one.”

  “I gotta go to school with high school kids? Mom, they’ll kill me. I’m only gonna be in seventh grade!”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  He turned toward his window again. She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything was going to be all right. They were going to make it. Two months earlier, she wasn’t so sure. “I won’t have time to get the kitchen organized and grocery shop today, so why don’t we get pizza tonight?”

  “They have pizza in Whitmer? Wow.” His tone was sarcastic. “They’ve joined the modern age.”

  “It’s not as small as you think. It’s not like Raleigh, but it’s got some nice things about it. You’ll see. I ought to know, I grew up there.”

  “But I don’t want to grow up there!”

  “Zach….” She reached for his hand but he it pulled away and pressed closer to the passenger door. “I’m sorry things worked out like this, but that’s just the way it is and we have to make the best of it. You’ll meet new friends and I’ll be able to support us with this job. Really, we could be doing a lot worse, all things considered.”

  She had to focus fully on the road when it began to curve ahead of them, but out of the corner of her eye she could see his gaze fall to his lap. She knew he wouldn’t cry in front of her, but she was sure that he wanted to. “Honey, I told you, it’s not your fault,” she said gently. “It not yours or mine or anybody else’s. Maybe I should’ve seen it coming, with your father and all, but I don’t know what else I could’ve done.”

  He put his earbuds back in to show that he was through talking, and she concentrated on the highway again and began counting down the miles to their new life.

  * * *

  She nudged her son awake when they neared the road sign that said Welcome to Whitmer, the jewel of Western North Carolina, pop. 12,270. “We’re here, Zach. Look.”

  He pulled his earbuds out and stared at the billboard as they went by. “Twelve thousand? That’s tiny.”

  “There are probably fewer than that, now. This town has been shrinking for years.”

  “Oh, great.”

  They passed an old industrial building, a hulking red brick structure by the river that appeared to be abandoned, with broken or boarded-up windows and weed-covered, empty grounds. A chain link fence surrounded it, and at the gate was a sign: Keep Out. “What’s that place?” Zach said.

  “The old mill. Your grandfather used to work there, years ago, before he opened his repair shop.”

  “It’s closed?”

  “Long time ago. A company from up North was supposedly buying the property to build an auto parts factory, but they backed out at the last minute. That was after Whitmer started building the new school, in anticipation of all these people who were going to move here, but it didn’t work out. That’s why they combined the middle school with the high school. Even still, it’s barely half full.”

  “The school’s brand new? Well, at least everything isn’t old.”

  Just past the factory, they slowed to a stop at an intersection. Zach pointed up and smiled cynically. “Hey, a traffic light! They have those here?”

  “Of course.”

  “How many, do suppose? Two?”

  “No! They have a few…I mean, several.” She felt herself grow flustered. “They have enough.” Then she said quietly, almost at a whisper, “They have enough.” She sighed and looked out of her window while she waited for the light to change. Whitmer. I can’t believe I’m back. I hope you have enough of what we need. I’m not asking for a lot. Just…enough. That’s all.

  Zach felt his mood darken further when they turned onto Davenport Street and drove past the ancient-looking houses that lined both sides of the road. Victorian, he remembered. That’s what Mom said they were. Each one was a brooding, two-or-three-story monstrosity, deep porches out front with heavy columns that supported their roofs, and scrolled bannisters in need of paint. Enormous trees brooded over the yards like sullen giants. He half-expected to hear creepy harpsicord music and see green-skinned people stumbling around with their arms extended like zombies, cobwebs trailing after them like shrouds. “Mom, are all the houses here this old?” he said to his window.

  “No. This is the one of the older neighborhoods. This is where the rich folks used to live.”

  “Where do they live now?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure if there are any rich neighborhoods anymore.”

  “Why do all of these have front porches?”

  “Many of them were built before most people had air conditioning. They’d sit out there in the late afternoon and early evening to escape the summer heat, and to visit with their neighbors.”

  “Does our house have AC? Don’t tell me it doesn’t. I won’t live there. It’s hot already.”

  “Yes, it has AC. Aunt Winnie had a new unit put in, along with a new roof and hot water heater.”

  “How long did she live in the house?”

  “Ten years, maybe. She’s in a nursing home, now. You met her when you were little, but I doubt you’d remember her.”

  “Who’s she related to? I forgot.”

  “She’s your grandfather’s older sister. She never married. She was a missionary for most of her life.”

  “How come I haven’t been here in so long?”

  “Because last time, I came by myself, when my mom got sick. After she died, it made more sense for your grandfather to visit us in Raleigh instead of us coming here, since he’s not equipped to take care of company by himself.”

  “He didn’t come see us much.”

  “He didn’t like your father.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, they uh…it’s hard to explain. He just didn’t. Let’s leave it at that. We’re here, anyway.”

  His heart sank all the way to the bottom when they pulled into the driveway of their house. It was as big and ugly as the others around it, if not bigger, painted a dull, olive green with flat black trim. Concrete steps led up to the porch, which was nearly hidden behind overgrown shrubs that stood at least eight feet high. Jutting out from a second story corner was a wide cylinder with narrow windows and a conical roof, reminding Zach of a turret on a medieval castle. That’s probably where they kept their prisoners, he thought morosely.

  “Well,” his mother said as she turned off the car, “let’s go have a look.”

  The front door of the house swung open and an elderly man came out — Grandpa Rick, looking much older than Zach recalled. He was still tall, but he had a noticeable bulge at his waist now. His thick hair was completely gray and his clothes were rumpled, and he limped do
wn the steps to meet them. He hugged Zach’s mother, patting her gently on the back and saying, “Glad you’re back, Liz.” He released her and faced Zach. “You couldn’t be my grandson. You’re too big.”

  Zach didn’t say anything. Grandpa extended his arms as if he expected another hug. Zach didn’t offer one.

  “Too manly for that?” Grandpa held out his hand. Zach shook it, half-heartedly.

  Zach’s mother glanced around the yard and frowned. “Dad, I thought you were going to get this place ready for us.”

  “I did, kinda. I mowed the grass, front and back, and opened up all the windows and aired it out and everything.”

  “What about these shrubs? They’re ridiculous. They’re blocking the windows. I bet the inside of the house is dark as a cave. And did you dust and vacuum, or clean the kitchen and bathrooms?”

  “Uh, not yet.” He scratched the back of his neck and grimaced. “I was getting around to those things. What time does your furniture get here?”

  “The truck is about two hours behind us.”

  “Oh, good. I called a friend at Goodwill, and they’ll send somebody over for whatever furniture that’s already here that you don’t want. Some of it you can store in the garage, which is around back. It’s separate, if you’ll remember, just like mine.”

  “Is any of the furniture worth keeping?” They started up the steps together, Zach trailing them, eyeing his new surroundings dubiously.

  Grandpa held the door open for them. “There are some valuable antiques, I believe. They’re probably not your style, though. You may want to sell ’em and use the money to replace the windows. They’re the original ones, and they’re drafty in the winter, no doubt.”

  “You know,” Liz said, “I’ve never been inside this house. I was too scared to, when I was a kid.”

  “Uncle Nicholas wasn’t exactly the social type. You probably don’t remember him very well, but he spent most of his time in his laboratory downstairs.”

  Zach suddenly perked up. “He had a lab?”

  “It’s still here, in the basement. Can’t find the key, though. I bet all his old equipment is still in it.”

  “We can’t get in?”

  “It’s got a steel door to it, and I can’t take it off the hinges, either. We’ll have to get a locksmith if we can’t find the key. Winnie never had it.”