The Haunting of Hounds Hollow

by Jeffrey Salane

  “Do I … like cream?” Dad asked, confused.

  The old woman moved around the kitchen effortlessly. She slid open the drawers and pulled out spoons, then closed the refrigerator door with a ballet-style kick. Then she put everything on a tray and carried the drinks to the dining room. Like it or not, Lucas could see Eartha Dobbs was telling the truth. She belonged here.

  Dad realized it, too. “Yes. Yes, we do take cream, thank you … wait, did you say mansion?”

  “Well, sit, why don’t ya?” The old woman smiled. “Looks like we need to talk.”

  Lucas joined his parents and Eartha at the table. His father and mother sipped their coffee, but he didn’t touch the water she’d poured for him. He didn’t want to go to the bathroom again that night. Not with the old lady watching him.

  After his parents introduced themselves, Eartha led the conversation. Apparently, she was going to stay on as the groundskeeper of the Sweetwater estate and continue living in the cottage.

  “And you don’t have anywhere else to go?” Mom was trying, kindly, to give Eartha a hint. “Any family you want to visit? I just don’t think we need a groundskeeper. Frankly, I’m not sure we could afford it.”

  “I don’t need your money,” Eartha said proudly. “Only payment I need is the roof over my head. Only family I had was Silas, so that makes you my family now.”

  Lucas could see his parents deflate. It looked like the Trainers were stuck with Eartha Dobbs. She came with the house.

  “But you can’t move in tonight,” Eartha snapped. “Wasn’t expecting you. Didn’t know when or even if you’d show up. I’ll need to turn the electricity back on, make sure the water heater is boiling again, and get the air conditioner up and running.”

  “Move in to where?” Lucas asked. “I’m confused. If you live here, then where are we supposed to live?”

  Eartha let out a cackle that rattled in her chest, then slapped her hand on her knee. “Ha! From the mouths of babes. Where are we supposed to live? Ha!”

  Then the old lady saw the puzzled looks on his mom and dad’s faces. “Oh mercy, y’all really got no idea, do you? Bless your hearts. Okay, stay here tonight. Morning makes everything clearer—wait. What is that?”

  Eartha pointed at Lucky’s carrier, which his mom had placed by the front door.

  “It’s our cat,” said Lucas.

  “Cat?” Eartha said the word like it was a hairball stuck in her throat. “You don’t let it outside, do you?”

  “No,” assured his father. “Lucky’s an indoor cat.”

  “Hrumph.” Eartha glared at the carrier before turning to Lucas. She put her pruney hand on top of his hand. “Keep him in, boy. Always keep him in. Those woods are full of things that might like a cat snack.”

  Lucas nodded and tried to pull back his hand from under hers without recoiling as fast as he wanted to.

  His parents took long sips of their coffee that passed like a secret conversation between them. Lucas had no idea what they were saying, but he’d seen this kind of secret code happen before whenever he wanted to have a friend spend the night or rent a movie that they thought was too scary for him. Or when doctors gave them options about his treatment.

  But Eartha was not going to wait for them to finish their silent code. “It’s settled, then. Y’all will stay here tonight. There’s a guest room upstairs. Leave your things in the car. No one’s gonna bother it way out here.”

  “No, we couldn’t,” Mom said. “I’m sure there’s a motel nearby.”

  Eartha shook her head with a husky giggle. “No hotels or motels near Hounds Hollow. Ain’t no reason to stay! Now, please, I insist. You’re just steps from your new home.”

  “If it’s no trouble, then thank you,” Dad said, relenting. Lucas could see Mom’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “We’ll take the upstairs room and Lucas can sleep down here on the couch. You already know where it is, right, son?”

  “No,” Eartha blurted out. Then she caught herself. “I’m sorry, but I, er … I’m up so early, I’m afraid I’d wake poor Lucas. And a growing boy needs his sleep! There’s a pullout upstairs; he can use that.”

  This time Lucas deflated like a balloon. There was no escape from Eartha or his parents tonight.

  “You said our new house is steps away,” Lucas said. “Were you talking about that mansion?”

  “Well, I wasn’t talking about the forest outside,” Eartha said with a yellow-toothed smile. “Y’all must have seen it on the drive in. Darn near impossible to miss. You’re moving into Sweetwater Manor.”

  A haunted house. In the middle of nowhere. His parents had moved him to a haunted house in the middle of nowhere. It had to be haunted; there was no other explanation. Either it was haunted or this Silas Sweetwater was one seriously weird dude. Lucas gulped and the gulp echoed in the kitchen.

  “Honey,” Mom began, “it’s been a long day. Why don’t you head up? We’ll be right behind you.”

  Lucas nodded because he knew that this was parent code for We need to talk privately when you’re not in the room. He was used to hearing that, but this time he was pretty sure that they weren’t going to be talking about him or his health.

  Lucas carried his portable CPAP machine and Lucky’s crate upstairs into the small room that barely fit the bed. In the closet he found the rollaway cot where Eartha told him it would be. When Lucas unhooked the latch, the moss-green mattress flopped open like a dead fish and fit in the room like the last piece of a puzzle.

  Lucky hissed angrily from inside his carrier and reached a paw through the front grate. After such a long trip, who could blame the cat for wanting to escape? Lucas opened the carrier and the cat bolted out and bounded around the small room, under the bed, and even climbed the wall at one point before he froze and snarled. Then Lucky charged forward, nearly crashing through the window. The cat scratched furiously against the glass, then stopped and peered outside. Lucas was spooked by Lucky’s frantic trip. Silently and carefully, he joined the cat, trying to spot whatever he was staring at. From deep in the shadows of the trees below, Lucas saw something move. It was hard to make out, but it looked like an animal with white, glowing fur. It moved carefully between the trees, almost like it was sneaking closer to the house. With every soundless step, Lucas felt his heart beat faster. He exhaled sharply, fogging up the edge of the window. Lucas couldn’t decide if he was really seeing the animal, but Lucky seemed to see something, too. The cat pinned its ears back and crouched down low on the mattress.

  Outside, the animal’s movements were … glitchy. That’s the only way Lucas could describe it. The animal’s body was unnaturally blurred—like it was an image still loading on a computer. It seemed to be almost tearing through the night as it walked.

  Suddenly a tiny flash popped in the woods, followed by a high-pitched whine that filled the quiet world outside. Lucas searched to find the animal again, but it was gone.

  As he moved back from the window, a second flash popped farther from the house. Then a low shudder erupted from the other side of the room, causing Lucky to skitter over Lucas, claws digging into him frantically as the cat ran to hide for dear life. Lucas flinched, but it was only the air conditioner whirring to life. A drift of cold, crisp air crept into the room.

  “Okay, so we’re both scaredy-cats,” Lucas said as he reached down for Lucky. The cat poked its head out from under the mattress and playfully pawed at Lucas’s hand. “And we probably both need sleep.”

  He made a mental note to look through his Haunted History book tomorrow. Maybe there was a section on people imagining things in the forest, the same way people saw mirages in the desert. With a yawn, Lucas grabbed the blanket that was neatly folded at the end of the guest bed and tugged it around him. Eased by his owner, Lucky laid down on the cot, and Lucas felt the familiar weight at the foot of his blanket just as the air conditioner sputtered on. Without even changing clothes, he slipped his mask over his nose and sighed with relief. He was more tired than he tho
ught. And animal or no animal outside, Lucas had no problem falling asleep that night.

  Hiss. Hiss. HISS.

  Lucas woke groggily, but he knew that sound. It was Lucky. He reached to pet the cat and felt claws dig into his hand.

  “Ow!” Lucas cried.

  This wasn’t a playful swipe. This wasn’t a cat looking for food or for Lucas to wake up and give him attention. Lucky was scared. Lucas flipped his CPAP mask off and jerked back his hand to study the scratch in the gray, early morning light. The cut was deep, long, and red.

  “What was that for, you crazy cat?” Lucas whispered. He blew on the cut, shook the pain away, and looked at his hand again as if he were expecting the scratch to have disappeared.

  The room had turned stiflingly hot even with the AC running at full blast. Lucas leaned forward and touched the vent where the cold air should have been. He could feel a rush of air blowing out, but it burned hotter than a hair dryer. He jerked his hand back for the second time and peeled back his covers. The entire bed and his clothes were wet. He’d fallen asleep in an icebox and woken up in a sauna. Lucas switched the temperature all the way down to COLD, but the hot air stayed on.

  Lucky crouched at the foot of the rollaway cot with his ears pinned back and his tiny teeth showing. The cat hissed at the door and bristled with a nervous energy that made the hair on the back of Lucas’s neck stand up, too. In a flash, Lucky streaked across the cot and hid under the bed where his parents were still sleeping soundly.

  Lucas carefully crawled to the bedroom door and put his ear against it. From downstairs he heard other scratching noises, like more animals scampering away, nails clicking and sliding against the hardwood floors. And then silence.

  Instantly the heat left the room and was replaced by a frigid cold again. Lucas’s teeth chattered as his wet clothes clung to his back. Suddenly he was freezing.

  Lucas opened the bedroom door and a wave of heat rushed over him. It felt warm and safe and it pulled him forward. He didn’t know why, but he started walking downstairs. It was as if he was being led there.

  An old clock chimed seven times as he stepped into the den. Eartha was already up and in the kitchen. She was putting away two stacks of large plastic bowls under the sink.

  “Aah!” Eartha said, flinching as soon as she saw him. “Boy! Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to sneak up on an old lady!” She clutched her heart. “Mercy.”

  “S-s-sorry,” Lucas chattered. The downstairs felt cold and drafty. Lucas realized that his sweat-drenched clothes weren’t helping, either.

  “Oh, now you must have set that AC on frostbite,” said Eartha. She left the room and came back with a blanket for Lucas. “Wrap yourself up before you catch cold.”

  He pulled the blanket around him like a cloak and sat down at the table. “Thank you.”

  “So you’re an early morning type, huh?” Eartha asked.

  “Not usually, but …” He paused. “Lucky woke me up. Something spooked him.”

  “The cat?” Eartha looked past Lucas, searching the room for signs of Lucky.

  “Don’t worry. He’s hiding upstairs.”

  A smile broke over Eartha’s face. “Oh, I wasn’t worried. I’m just not a cat person, is all. They are too lonesome for my taste.”

  Lucas nodded; he kind of understood what she meant. “I’d never been a cat person, either. I always wanted a dog, but we weren’t allowed to have one in our old apartment.”

  “Still doesn’t seem like a good reason to get a cat,” said Eartha.

  Lucas didn’t know what to say, so he changed the subject. “Do you have dogs?”

  “Dogs?” Eartha asked, wiping down the already spotless counter. “What’s it to you?”

  “You were putting away dog bowls,” said Lucas.

  “Dog bowls?”

  “Yeah, under the sink,” said Lucas. “At least, they looked like dog bowls.”

  Eartha waved her hands, motioning around the empty room. “You see any dogs round here? I think that cold’s froze your brain, hon.”

  “So there’s nothing under the sink?” asked Lucas.

  “Just sink stuff,” said Eartha. She walked over to the cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a plastic bowl with a dog bone border. “Is this what you’re talking about?”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t that look like a dog bowl?” said Lucas.

  “I s’pose,” said Eartha. “Except you won’t find any dogs in here. I moved the bowls to get my cleaning supplies. Not sure where they came from. They’ve been here since I showed up.”

  Lucas felt his nose start to drip. He tried to wipe it without Eartha noticing, but that forced him into a sneeze.

  “Bless you,” she said, handing him a box of tissues. “I know what might help that cold. A cup of orange juice with a splash of something special.”

  “Something special?” asked Lucas, when he felt a slap on his back.

  “Morning, champ,” said Dad. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the day before. “I’m surprised to see you up this early after that long drive.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Lucas agreed as Eartha put a cup in front of him. The orange juice was still swirling from whatever she’d added to it.

  “What do you say, Lucas?” Dad prompted.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled and picked up the juice. He sniffed it, but there was no weird smell, just the brightness of pure orange citrus. Lucas took a sip and it was surprisingly delicious. “Wow …”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Eartha nodded. “That’ll clear you right up in no time.”

  As he drank, Lucas looked out the front window. The entire outdoors was newly colored by the morning light. The murky shadows from last night had been cast away and replaced by bright greens, deep browns, rich yellows, and a blue sky so perfect that he wanted to name a color after it.

  But just as the world outside had become more vibrant, so had the noise of the cicadas. They were blasting now, far louder than they had been the night before. Lucas was taking it all in—the beauty and otherness of his new world—when a man walked out of the forest. He was followed closely by a fleet of other men and women dressed in jeans and flannel shirts. Lucas stared at them through the window as they made their way past the cottage and over to the mansion that was about to be his new home.

  More people arrived, wearing tool belts and hard hats. Some carried sheets of lumber and piping, as if they’d just been pulled off a truck. But every worker looked like they were doing the most normal, mundane task in the world, like it was business as usual. None of them bothered to give a single glance to the weird, sweaty kid wrapped in a blanket and drinking possibly poisoned orange juice.

  “Um, Dad?” Lucas called, pointing outside.

  Dad shook his head. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t order any home improvements. Until last night, I didn’t even know which house was mine.”

  A knock on the back kitchen door broke the silence. Framed by the yellow curtains around the door window, a man in a green hard hat stood waiting. His stare fell on Lucas, and a shiver crawled up Lucas’s spine again. The worker’s eyes looked right through him as if he weren’t there. Lucas waved, but the man only hovered in the doorway, staring.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Eartha called out. “I’m getting the keys. Hold on.”

  Lucas looked at his dad, who only shrugged.

  Eartha shuffled over to a closet and pulled out a gigantic ring of keys. Each key had a brightly colored rubber cover with writing on it. She slid key after key around until she landed on the one with a lime-green cover and unhitched it from the ring.

  “Number 108,” Eartha said, opening the door and handing the man the key. “Now, you know the rules for your team.”

  The man nodded stiffly as he took the key and left without saying a word.

  Lucas saw Eartha give the man a royal side-eye glance as she added, “And you best be gone by five. All that hammering makes a racket and I need peace and quiet to calm my nerves.”

  The man stopped witho
ut turning around to look at Eartha and, in a strangely hollow voice, said, “You’ll hardly notice we’re here.”

  “Oh, you always say that, and I always notice,” complained Eartha as she shut the door.

  “What is this all about?” asked Dad.

  “It’s just the builders, hon,” said Eartha. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Get used to what?” Lucas asked. “What are they building? What are all those keys for?”

  Eartha held up the giant ring. Lucas had never seen someone with so many keys in his life. The groundskeeper for the White House maybe had a collection like that … maybe. Or the warden at a prison. There must have been well over a hundred keys dangling on a ring that could have fit around his neck.

  “These are the keys to your house,” said Eartha. She tossed them on the table with a clunk. “The same house those people outside are still building.”

  “Still building?” Dad repeated.

  “How much do you know about Silas Sweetwater’s home?” Eartha reached into the jumble of keys, found one in a red cover, and pointed it toward Lucas. “There’s lots of rules to living in Sweetwater Manor, but three are most important.”

  Lucas looked at Eartha, wide-eyed, both fascinated and frightened by how much she reminded him of a drill sergeant in that moment.

  “Rule number one: Don’t move anything. Silas put everything in there for a reason. Rule number two: Always keep building. And rule number three …”

  “Wait, hold on,” Dad interrupted. “There are rules?”

  Eartha shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, yes, there are rules. Why do you think I live over here, instead of in there? Listen, hon, maybe y’all should take a look at the house yourself. It’s hardly my place to ruin the surprise.”

  Lucas’s dad let out a frustrated sigh and ran upstairs to wake up his wife. Lucas was left wrapped in a blanket with what he now realized was the most delicious glass of orange juice he’d ever had in his life.