The House

by Bentley Little

  He explained what had happened, how he had confronted her in his sister's bedroom, how he had killed her and Daniel had helped.

  The rest of them remained silent through his story, not interrupting, and even after he had finished none of them had any questions.

  Stormy sighed tiredly. "I guess it's my turn."

  They each described what had happened in their absence.

  As before, while the details were different, the stories were remarkably similar Also, as before, Norton's was the most horrific.

  Stormy was shocked by the old man's confession, and he found that he was disgusted, horrified, and slightly afraid of the teacher. He'd been surprised to see Norton alive, and happy about it at first, but as the other man related the events that had befallen him, Stormy recalled that bloody transparent figure he'd seen in the black room, and he understood what had happened there.

  He did not like Norton, he realized, and as embarrassed and apologetic as the old man was, Stormy detected something hard and dark beneath that surface contrition, and he felt uncomfortable being in the same room with him.

  He edged a little closer to Laurie.

  "So what next?" Laurie asked after Norton had finished talking. She gestured toward the sitting-room window.

  "It's light out there. Anybody want to try to go outside? See if we can finally get out of here?"

  "Count me in," Stormy told her.

  "The doors are open," Mark said. "There's nothing holding you here. You can go."

  Laurie looked at him. " 'You'?"

  Mark cleared his throat nervously. "I'm staying."

  They looked at him.

  "What?" Stormy said, incredulous.

  Norton sucked in a deep breath. "I am, too."

  "This is crazy!" Stormy looked from one man to the other. "Have you both lost your fucking minds? Billings is dead.Donielle's dead. The Houses are open. There's nothing keeping us here. We're free! We can go back to our normal lives and pretend this never happened!"

  Mark's voice was quiet. "Yes, Billings and the girl are gone, but we don't know what that means. What we do know, is that with someone living in at least one of the Houses, the barrier holds."

  "You still want to stay? After everything that's happened to you here?"

  "Especially after everything that's happened. Think of what we've seen. Think of what we know. Can you leave here with a clear conscience, knowing that if the Houses are empty it'll all happen again? You had dead people popping up on your Indian reservation. And that kind of shit was happening all over the country, all over the world maybe. You know what would happen if the border fell entirely?" He shook his head. "I can't let that occur."

  "We've been prisoners here!"

  Norton smiled sadly. "I'm not a prisoner anymore.

  This time it's my choice. And perhaps, in some small way, I can make up for ... for what happened before."

  Laurie faced him. "Penance?"

  "If you like."

  Stormy waved his arms, exasperated. "But maybe normal people can live here and it'll do the same thing.

  Hell, they don't even need to know about it--"

  "It's still on the borderline," Mark said. "They'll still see things they can't understand. It'll still be haunted."

  Norton shrugged. "Besides, I'm up for it. I'd like to explore this border. I'm not that far away from passing over to the Other Side myself, and I'd like to know where I'm going, I'd like to find out a little bit about it first."

  "Well, my duty as border guard is over. I'm through with this shit."

  Laurie smiled sympathetically. "I'm getting out of here, too, if I can. I've spent enough of my life in this House. I don't want to spend any more of it here." She looked at Norton. "You I can understand." She turned toward Mark. "But you're still young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't you want to do something with it?"

  "I am," he said.

  They were silent for a moment.

  "Well," Laurie said. "At least you won't be trapped inside anymore. It'll be more like when we were kids, probably. You'll be able to go outside, go into town, leave whenever you want. This'll just be ... your home."

  "Yeah," Mark said.

  Silence settled over them, and Stormy cleared his throat. It was rude, perhaps, but he didn't want to hang around here one more second. As far as he was concerned, this little adventure was over, and it was time for him to get the hell out of here and back to his real life. The rest of them could go or stay or do whatever they wanted to do, but he wanted to get as far away from the Houses as he could, as quickly as he could.

  "It's been fun," he said. "But I have important things to do."

  Laurie smiled. "Videos?"

  "You got it."

  "Wait up," she said. "I'm coming with you."

  All four of them walked out to the entryway and stood awkwardly a moment before the door. Were they supposed to hug, cry, shake hands? Stormy felt like doing none of those things. Oddly enough, he'd felt closer to the others when he'd first met them than he did now, and before anyone else could initiate some sort of bogus parting gesture, he opened the front door. The sun, white and hot, was shining in his eyes, its brightness obscuring the view outside.

  "Later," he said. He waved good-bye, stepped through the doorway --and emerged alone onto the porch. Across the street was the fire-gutted building. Next to the curb, in front of the House, right where he'd left it, was his rental car.

  He was in Chicago.

  He turned to look behind him, but there were no other people in the entryway of the House. There was only a dirty dusty floor in a foyer that looked as though it had been abandoned for years. The only footprints in the dust were his own.

  He hurried down the steps and off the porch, feeling cold. There were goose bumps on his arms, hair prickling on the back of his neck. He strode quickly down the walk, trying to get away from the House as fast as possible.

  He still did not understand where the House in which they'd met was located, but he did not really care, he did not want to find out.

  He walked around the front of his car, fumbled in his pocket for the keys, quickly opened the driver's door.

  On the seat of his car was a rose.

  He hesitated less than a second, then tossed the flower onto the floor.

  For the first time since he'd seen the television in his bedroom, he thought of Roberta. Was she really dead?

  he wondered. Or had that been part of the show put on for him?

  He had the feeling that she was dead, and though he knew their marriage was over and that no matter what happened they would never get together again, he hoped that she was all right, he hoped that she was unharmed.

  He didn't love her, but he still cared about her in a way, and the thought that anything from the House, anything to which he was remotely connected, had hurt Roberta or had caused her death made him feel sick inside.

  But he'd find out about all that when he got back to New Mexico. Right now, he just wanted to get away from the House and get out of Chicago.

  He closed the door, turned the key in the ignition, and put the car into gear. Grinding the rose underneath the heel of his boot, he sped down the street as fast as his rental car would accelerate.

  Laurie Josh was waiting for her when she emerged from the House.

  As was a crew of firefighters and several policemen and an ambulance.

  They hadn't yet tried to break into the House, but it was clear that was what they intended to do, and two firemen carrying axes stopped when they saw her walk out onto the porch. She turned back, looking through the open door the way she'd come, but as she'd expected, as she'd known, there was no sign of either Mark or Norton.

  Josh leaped up the steps, grabbed her, hugged her.

  "Thank God you're all right!"

  "How long was I in there?" she asked.

  "A long time. At least three or four hours. I thought you might be dead."

  "Three or four hours?" She shook her head. " The
spirits have done it all in one night.' "

  "What?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing."

  There was a bandage on the side of Josh's head where he'd been clipped by the door, and a circle of red had leaked through the white. He looked back at the firemen.

  "I didn't want to leave you in there alone, but I

  yelled and yelled and I couldn't hear you anymore. I

  tried to get in, but I couldn't, and when I tried to break a window, the rock was just . . . absorbed. So I took a chance. I left you there and drove into town and brought back ..." He gestured toward the ambulance, fire truck, and police car.

  He met her eyes. "What happened in there?"

  She looked behind him, saw two policemen walking up, shook her head.

  He understood. "The cops said the owners may press charges," he said. "Breaking and entering."

  "Who are the owners?"

  "I don't know," he admitted.

  The policemen reached them, asked her what happened, and she concocted an impromptu story about wanting to see the house of her birth parents and passing out inside the kitchen that sounded ludicrously unbelievable to her, but they nodded as she spoke, and one of the policemen suggested that she have one of the paramedics look her over.

  "I will," she said. "Just let me . . . collect myself first."

  They nodded, and Josh walked with them over to a fireman in a white uniform who appeared to be in charge of the rescue effort.

  Laurie looked up at the dark bulk of the House and shivered as she thought of everything that had happened to her since she'd gone in there.

  "Miss?" She turned to see an old white-haired man in a police uniform walk up to where she was standing.

  There was a strange expression on his face, and it made her feel a trifle uneasy. She looked around for Josh, saw him standing by the vehicles, talking.

  "I always wondered what happened to you," the white-haired cop said.

  She shook her head, not recognizing him. "I'm sorry . . ."

  He smiled sadly. "I'm the one who was in charge of your parents' case. The one you talked to when you first came into the station."

  She still did not recognize him, but she understood now why his appearance had made her uneasy. She licked her lips, not knowing what to say.

  He moved next to her. "What really happened in there?" he asked softly.

  "I don't ... I don't know what you mean."

  "I know about that house," he said, looking up at it.

  "I know what happens there."

  Part of her wanted to tell him, wanted to confide in him, Bentley Little but she resisted the impulse, for his sake as well as her own.

  She might tell Josh what had occurred, but that would be it.

  Her lips were sealed. This was not something she wanted to share, not something anyone needed to know.

  "I don't remember," she lied.

  "But something happened."

  "I think so," she told him, feigning confidentiality.

  "But I've either blocked it out or . . ." She trailed off.

  He nodded, satisfied.

  "My brother says they're pressing charges against us?"

  "Don't worry," he said. "There won't be any charges.

  I'll make sure of it."

  "Thank you," she told him.

  Behind him, she saw Josh wave to her, finished with the fireman, and she said, "My brother's calling me."

  She stepped around the policeman, and her heart was pounding as though she'd done something wrong, as though she was afraid he'd arrest her.

  "I would suggest staying away from here," the cop said.

  "Don't worry," she told him. "I plan to."

  Josh took her arm. "They have our names and everything. I gave them my address and phone number, so they wouldn't bug you." He motioned toward the car.

  "You want to go? Or is there something else--"

  "No," she said quickly. "Let's go. Let's get out of here."

  "The paramedics wanted to look at you, but they said they don't have to if you don't want to, and I said you didn't."

  She nodded.

  They walked to the car in silence, one of the police vehicles already pulling away, the rest of the men packing up their gear.

  "An exciting day for Pine Creek," Josh said.

  "Yeah." Laurie smiled.

  He took out his keys, opened the passenger door for her. "What did happen in there?" he said. "Really?"

  She gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

  "Get in the car," she said. "I'll explain it all on the way home."

  Epilogue Brian left after dinner, giving her a big hug and shadowboxing with Tony, and Margot watched his car drive away as Tony went into his bedroom to get his homework.

  The house felt lonely, the absence of a man's presence especially noticeable after her brother's departure.

  She stared into the night, her eyes focusing on the streetlight across the way, and thought of Daniel.

  Daniel.

  Burying an empty coffin had been the hardest part. It was difficult enough to accept the death of someone you loved, but when there was no body, the loss was somehow magnified and made even greater.

  Even after all these months, it was still a raw wound to her, a bleeding slash across her emotions and her psyche, and though it was even worse at night, alone, in bed, it hurt all the time, and just standing here in the kitchen after dinner, she felt a huge painful emptiness in her gut. She wanted to sob out loud, wanted to cry out her anguish and burst into tears, but she knew that Tony would be back with his homework in a minute, and she didn't want him to see her cry. She needed to be strong for him. She needed to provide him with as stable a home life as she could manage under the circumstances.

  She thought of Daniel's "friends." She believed what they'd said, as far as it went, but she thought there was probably more, and while she knew they weren't about to share it with her now, she was willing to wait. She would find out eventually.

  A light breeze caressed her cheek, a movement of air Bentley Little through the torn screen that seemed at once cooler and warmer than the night outside.

  She thought she heard her name, whispered.

  Margot Tony walked into the kitchen, put his books out on the table, took out his paper and pencil. She wanted to tell him to be quiet so she could listen, so she could hear the whisper again, but she said nothing, continued to stare.

  Margot She opened the screen door, looked around, but there was nothing. No movement, no sound.

  "What is it?" Tony asked, coming up behind her.

  She let the screen door fall closed, continued to stare straight ahead, into the night, not wanting him to see her tears.

  Margot "The wind," she said softly. "It's just the wind."

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  Document ID: 46b582ac-a558-4a05-b004-1a846d7b675d

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  Document creation date: 7.12.2012

  Created using: calibre 0.9.8, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software

  Document authors :

  Bentley Little

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