====
His sister was at the table when he walked in doing a jigsaw puzzle. It was spread across the surface, a small section established. He glanced sideways, recognizing St. John’s, a historic church in Cold Spring Harbor.
“It’s a puzzle of the town.”
“Yeah, Allison bought it at the church auction last year. We never got around to doing it.”
“You don’t mind?”
“What, no. I don’t mind at all. Neither would she. You gonna crash here?”
“Do you want me to? What did you find?”
Gently, he pushed the pieces away to make a spot at his end of the table. “Kids?”
“All asleep. You know it’s past ten, right?”
He ignored her comment. “Look, it’s Hannah Andrews’s diary.”
“No shit. The murdered girl from Stillwell?”
“The one and only. I found it in a small crawl space over her room. You interested?”
“Sure.” She continued with the puzzle.
“She’s a young girl here.” He scanned the pages. “Hah, she complained about the sermon at St. John’s. Wow.”
They both looked at the incomplete picture on the table.
“Funny. It’s like we’re all connected.”
Thunder boomed and lightening lit up the window bathing their faces in electric blue. Their eyes met and they laughed, but drew closer together. They heard the rain pummel the roof.
“Tell me about it!” he huffed. “I’m cutting to the chase.” He flipped the pages carefully to the year of 1777. “Here.” He squinted as he started to read: “I met a boy. He’s the son of Mr. Wendover. Mr. Wendover and my father had some business to conduct. His name is John and is as swarthy as a gypsy.”
“She’s cute,” Lisa said. “Get to the good stuff.”
“Wait,” Paul mumbled, taking it all in. His lips moved rapidly as he read to himself. “The romance progresses. They are meeting by the wishing well, secretly. Her maid, an Irish one…” He looked at her.
“And that is significant, because...” she said without looking up.
“Because June’s ancestor was an Irish maid in the household.”
“And you know that because?”
“June related a story about her ancestor.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure they had more than one Irish maid.”
“Could be, but only one left because she was pregnant by the boss. Listen to this: ‘I despise my father. Brigitte is increasing. He is a beast. I know it was him. She has not told me, but I have seen her bruises. She is a dear, sweet little thing. He is an animal, a great hairy beast who takes advantage of defenseless servants. Should I tell Mama?’”
“Wow. Now that would make a good book.”
“There’s more: ‘My hatred grows. He has forbidden me from seeing John. I love John. I fear the worst has happened. I am increasing and my father has locked me in my room. What shall I do about my babe? John has promised that we would wed. Papa has forbidden me from seeing him. I will not be able to hide my babe much longer.’”
“Gothic. Keep going.”
“‘Brigitte has come to me.’” Paul added, “Oh, it’s terrible.” Then he continued reading: “She has overheard my father’s plotting. They are planning on putting compromising papers on John’s person. They will hang him as a traitor. My father thinks to end our romance in a heinous way. He is pure evil. I shall die if I can’t have my John. Sweet John...my own sweet love, who shall protect us. Who will protect our child? I greatly fear what my father will do. He will give away the babe. I must protect the babe. I must find a way to protect John and our child.”
“Do you think the father murdered his own daughter?” Lisa sat back, engrossed in the diary.
“Don’t know. She’s scribbling here, it’s hard to read. I don’t quite know what…” He read silently.
“What! Share, Paulie. I’m totally titillated.” She hit his arm.
“She’s planning an escape. They are going to meet by the well. The date, shit, look at the date.” His finger pointed to the date on the top of the yellowed page. It was 235 years ago, tonight.
“Wow. I just got the chills.”
“I gotta go back there.”
“Paulie,” his sister pleaded. “It’s enough with that house. It’s late. It’s pouring.”
“Lee. I want to go. I have to go.”
“It’s not a haunted house. It’s haunting you. You’re searching for Allison. You have to stop this obsession. It’s possessing you.”
As if on cue, a crack of thunder shook the house.
“In more ways than you know. I think I’ll get the answers tonight. It’s too coincidental, the diary, the apparition…”
“What apparition? Paul, this is getting too weird. Maybe, we should…” She reached for the diary.
“I’m not insane, Lisa, I know what I’m seeing. What I am dreaming. It’s not kids; it’s Allison and she needs me. She’s communicating with me. Allison needs me. Please stay here tonight. Let me finish this.”
“I’m afraid to think what you need. Maybe some little blue pills.” She stared at her brother, worried about him, her face pained.
“I’m not nuts. I’m not crazy. I have to see this through,” he told her quietly.
“I’ll wait up.” His sister held his hand. “Do what you have to do.”
“You don’t have to wait up.” He grabbed his jacket and keys and rushed out the door.
“But I will,” she told the empty room.
=====
The road was dark. Light pooled only around areas that had lampposts, the road of ribbon of silver, wet and slick. He careened onto 25A; it was empty, not even the cops were out. In the dark distance, the rain made it hard to see. Squinting, he made out a shape, which was a lump, crawling into the middle of the road. His wipers brushed furiously at the downpour and the road lit up as its void was fractured with a jagged bolt of lightening. The lump rose to its feet, holding out both arms to stop him. He swerved, but as he bypassed, he felt a hard thump hit the car. He glanced back, and searched, but could see nothing but stygian darkness. He slowed, feeling his nerves raw, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckled hands. Not more than five feet, it rose up again, now closer to the middle of the hood of his car. It was the beast. Out in the open. He pressed the gas, hoping to hit it. He wanted to see its ugly, hairy face when it died. Adrenaline rushed thought his body, he sat up, his face a snarl of rage. He wanted to kill. The engine groaned as he put the gas pedal to the floor, and he heard a resounding crunch as the car drove over the thing. “Come meet me, face to face, you mother fucker!” he screamed at the monster. He turned in his seat and lost control for a minute as the car skidded into an embankment. He got out holding a bloody nose, the rain plastering his shirt to his body, running back to see if it was dead. He jogged ten feet, sloshing though puddles and saw nothing. He searched for a landmark to see where it went down, and couldn’t find anything. He looked at his car lying sideways, walked another twenty feet, and saw there was nothing there. His breath came in short pants as he ran back to his car. He ran his hand along the front fender and felt for signs of an impact. There was none. No blood, no hair, no dent. What was happening to him?
He saw though the gloom that he was at the base of the Stillwell driveway. Grabbing the key and his phone, he approached the entrance, lightening flashing and the smell of ozone heavy in the night air.
He pressed on, running up the driveway in the pitch black to Stillwell, the house a dark silhouette in the night sky. It was silent as he opened the front door. His feet echoed in the stark hallways. Taking the steps two at a time, he launched himself upstairs, leaving a trail of water. He positioned himself near the window, gazing out at the well. The orbs were back, dancing around the stone structure.
“Show yourself to me!” he urged. “How does this tie in to Ally?” He felt a tug on his shoulder, and as he turned, a beastly arm swung forward and hit his chin. It tasted salty with b
lood. It was back! A huge foot stomped his gut, and he rolled impotently on the floor. A well of anger surged within him and he jumped, smacking down the demon, its tail whipping around in a wild frenzy. They rolled on the floor toward the doorway. His knuckles split as he pummeled the hard hairy back of the thing. “Ow, ow, ow.” He shook his bruised hand. It hurt like a mother. He kicked the beast hard, satisfied with the hiss of pain. He used the wall to steady himself and rose and scrambled out of the room, a hot breath of hell on his back. The stairs rose up to meet him as the monster landed on his back. They tumbled down together in a bizarre primal dance. He escaped to run out of the house, but for a reason he couldn’t explain, he ran to the well instead of the safety of 25A.
The well was lit with an unexplainable incandescence. Paul raced toward the shining beacon while slipping on wet grass. Hot breath heated his shoulder, the dank smell of rot enveloping him. His fingers bit into the solid cobblestone of the well. He leaped onto its wall and reached for the orbs, wanting to grab them. Touch them. He could feel them glide upon the hairs of his arms. Like static electricity, it didn’t hurt, but crackled with energy. Their heat enveloped him. Reaching forward, he held out an arm, his balance precarious. The cobblestones were slick with water. A solid thunk to his back sent him reeling downward, his head banging into the hard wall of the dark cavern. Lights flashed behind his eyes; he saw a figure in the distance. He reached out, but the floor rushed up to him and then the air left his body as he hit the bottom of the well.
It was so silent it hurt. Time seemed suspended and he didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later. He felt lighter than air and rose slowly upward. Enveloped in peace, he glanced back to see himself lying on the bottom of the well. He was dry, the rain had stopped. Oh, he thought, so this is death. Music came to him, soft whispers of sound, not quite singing, but a peaceful chanting. A light pricked the darkness, growing larger and larger as he moved toward it. A woman dressed in white had her back to him, tendrils of blonde hair swaying around her graceful body. She was surrounded in a white light, so bright it should have hurt his eyes, but strangely it didn’t. As he reached out, he noticed his hand showed no sign of his fight; his knuckles weren’t bruised or bleeding. “Allison,” he whispered, happy and relieved to feel her presence. She held out a translucent hand and turned her palm up to stop him. She floated in one spot. “What...”
“I love you, Paul.” Her voice was like music.
He swallowed the lump that lodged in his throat. Her voice continued, “I love you, but you must do something first.” He heard her loud and clear, though her lips never moved. “You must deal with the demon first.”
He drew back but knew it was behind him. Its hot breath bathed his neck, while rivulets of fear curled down his spine.
“Turn around, Paul, and face your demon. Paul...”
“I don’t want to.” He pleaded.
“But you must.” She shook her head. She gave his shoulder a slight push, and he knew there was no way he could refuse her.
“I’m here to save you,” he persisted, trying one last time, suddenly afraid to turn around.
“If you truly want to help me, you have to face the demon...Turn, Paul.” Her voice echoed in his mind.
Slowly, he spun, his eyes tightly shut. He could hear the rasping bellows of its breath and smell the decay of its existence. It came close, so close he felt its bared teeth against his cheek.
“Open your eyes, my love.”
He slowly opened his eyes to look at the great hairy beast. Though its shoulders were big, and it had the long arms of its monkey ancestor, the face that Paul saw reflected was not a monster. It was not simian but quite human. It was a face he knew oh so well. Staring back was his own image. Grave and wounded, sad and defeated, he looked at himself, the monster within himself.
“You have to let me go,” his wife told him gently. He turned, tears gathering in his eyes. “You have to stop fighting. Release me. If you love me, you will let me go.” Her voice echoed in his head.
“I can’t. I love you. I don’t want to, I don’t want to,” he whispered like a child. “I don’t want to be without you. It’s me. I am the monkey wrench!” he cried.
“Yes, my dear, my sweet, my own. Your love is holding me back. You have to release me. I need to go.”
He swayed, his heart breaking. Sensing his pain, Allison touched his chest, filling him with light and love. “I am right here, Paul.” Her hand caressed his chest. “I will always be right here.” The electricity pulsed through his heart.
“Our love is eternal and you will never be without me. Release me, Paul. Remember our pledge; it’s on our rings. I will love you more than eternity.” He moved toward her, ready to take her hand and go. She slipped out of his grasp, holding up a palm to halt him. “It’s not your time now, Paul. You can’t go with me. You still have things to do. Yes, I know you want to go, but you can’t. I will be waiting for you. I will be the first face you see when we meet again. As long as there are stars in the sky, I will be waiting for you.”
Contentment started to replace regret as he watched the monster beside him shrink, slowly disappearing. It deflated, sinking into a smudge, leaving only a soft wisp of smoke.
“It was my time, dear heart. I came to do what I had to do in this lifetime. You have not completed your lessons. Learn quickly, my love, but not too quickly. There are still sunrises for you to enjoy.” Soft words caressed his face as he felt Allison around him, inside and out.
“But I don’t want…” He heard the words come out as a petulant whine.
His wife became as translucent as smoke, and he watched her brighten once more, only to fade away. A ghostly hand gently touched his cheek, and he knew suddenly that she was gone. Perhaps forever.
Allison’s tinkling laughter echoed in his head as he became aware of the aches that consumed his body. Gritty dirt filled his mouth; his skin screamed from a dozen raw places. He heard the incessant ring of his cell phone and realized it was lying outside the well. His sister’s cries coupled with the sound of sirens wailing in the background. He cleared his throat, unsuccessfully crying out, “Here!” It came out as a croak, and he wondered how he was going to explain all this. It was daylight, and the rain had stopped. A soggy sun lit the well. He moved his arm, but it was dead weight. Broken, maybe. It rippled with pain as he tried to pull himself up. He was one massive bruise. A glint caught his eye, and he sat up, his back against the stone well. Reaching with his good hand, he pried the gold thing embedded in the rock. It came loose with the struggle and fell to the bottom of the damp well, circling to rest in front of his knee. There was enough light now. As he inched over, he picked up the ring. It had engravings on the inside as well as the outside. He brushed years of dirt and saw the words “more than eternity” engraved on the outside. He pushed himself upright and scanned the inside of the ring. “Hannah and John Married September 1777.” He made a fist and clutched it.
A chill danced down his spine, and he watched a rope slither down the well. “You OK, buddy? We’re coming down.”
“No.” He stood slowly. “I’m fine. I didn’t see the well and stumbled in. I can get up on my own.” He held onto the rope then straightened his arm with a groan. It appeared to work, bruised not broken, after all. He put one foot in front of the other, gripped the rope, and heaved himself up and out of the musty well, his newly awakened muscles screaming in protest.
“I was so worried. I kept calling and calling your phone.” His sister brushed at the bruise on his forehead. “What happened? Oh my God, Paulie. I was so scared. What did you do to yourself?” His sister lovingly checked him for damage.
“Later. I want to go home. I’ll tell you later.” His voice sounded rusty to his own ears.
“Do you think we should go to the hospital? They want to call the paramedics.”
“I’m fine.” He stretched. “A bit bruised. Nothing much. Let’s get out of here.”
An officer approached him. “Was it tho
se kids? Did they push you in? I’ll have their hides for this.”
“No. Really. I stumbled in.”
The officer eyed him.
“One day I’m gonna nail those little bastards.”
“I’m sure you will.” Paul smiled.
His kids ran to him. They had been corralled by the police on the terrace. Crouching, he gathered them to his chest and kissed their heads. The twins, satisfied he was well, started walking toward their car. Stella held onto his leg. He disengaged her and bent low.
“I’m OK, honey. Let’s go home.”
“Mommy?” She cocked her head.
“Mommy is fine. Really fine.”
Stella smiled sweetly, and when they turned to leave, she pulled him back from the departing people. She tugged his arm and pointed, “Daddy, look!”
The sky was bright with the promise of a new day. He held Stella’s hand as two ghostly specters materialized and met face to face. They hovered over the Stillwell wishing well. Hannah and her John stood together, hands clasped like a bride and groom. They turned slowly, their faces peaceful, happy. Hannah touched the slight swell of pregnancy at her waist. She looked up and smiled at Paul then raised her hand and gently waved farewell. Stella waved back. As they turned to the other direction, they floated hand in hand, vanishing into the horizon.
Paul looked down at the ring clasps in his hand, his thoughts on Allison, his children, and love. He considered what people do for love, honor, sacrifice. Closing his hand into a fist, he whispered Allison’s last words to him. “As long as there are stars in the sky.” He knew for sure she would be waiting for him.
Stella tugged on his hand and he bent painfully to be face to face with her. “Where is Mommy now? Right now?”
He pointed to his chest and then touched hers. “As long as there are stars in the sky, Mommy is right here with us. She will always be with us.”
He picked her up and took his older children’s hands to live the life they had chosen. To fulfill the dreams of the ages, to complete his job, so that he could reach for the stars someday and be reunited with his Allison.
Stillwell: A Haunting on Long Island Page 13
