Reign of Silence

by Tony Martin

  “Coming?” asked Precious. Joshua nodded.

  The two went through the library; Joshua checked his camera. In the great hall, Precious paused, looking about anxiously. He thought about showing Joshua the extraordinary video, but decided it might be best to wait until morning – when they were all away from the Dubose mansion.

  Precious made a broad sweep of the downstairs rooms as Joshua accompanied him. “Getting anything?” Joshua asked.

  “No,” said Precious, “and at this point that’s fine with me.”

  The two completed their downstairs tour and climbed the staircase to the second floor. Joshua paused long enough to look out the huge fanlight window on the second floor landing. There was just enough ambient moonlight to illuminate the rear of the property. The wind had died down at some point during the night – the trees were motionless.

  Precious, looking past Joshua, seemed to be satisfied that the landscape was quiet. “Take a few photographs toward the cemetery,” he said, and Joshua obliged.

  Again, Precious methodically went from room to room with his EMF detector. He had completed the fourth bedroom when he heard Joshua’s strangled cry: “Precious! Get over here!”

  Joshua was standing at the foot of the little staircase leading up to the door to the attic. “Precious,” he said, gripping the handrail, “the door to the attic is open.”

  “And?”

  “And it hasn’t been open before now,” said Joshua. “I don’t think any of us opened it – I sure didn’t.”

  “Should we look on this as an invitation?” asked Precious, peering up into the gloom.

  “Whew,” said Joshua. “I guess I’m game. Meredith said she never came up here – she said it was nasty.”

  “Nasty or not, here we go,” said Precious, obviously thrilled.

  Joshua found a light switch, which barely illuminated the staircase. The two men climbed the stairs, gingerly testing each step as they wanted. The open door gaped at them.

  Precious took his flashlight and shone it through the door. “What a mess,” he commented.

  Joshua joined him as Precious entered. Casting the beam around, Joshua saw just how much of a mess things were: furniture covered in sheets, two old bicycles, no less than six storage trunks, and an old wheelchair. Assorted other boxes, crates, a milk churn, and other accumulated junk was banked in the corners. There was also a toilet chair and a walker – Joshua figured Laidlaw Dubose had used these.

  Precious found a light suspended from a cloth-insulated cord. He pulled its chain, and harsh yellow light illuminated the room.

  Joshua slid one trunk away from the rest. “You could spend days up here digging through this stuff.” The trunk was unlocked, and Joshua raised the lid.

  “Well, would you look at this,” he said.

  Precious looked. Neatly folded in the trunk was a woolen uniform – a greenish-gray jacket and trousers. The material was tattered and travel-stained, and smelled musty and organic.

  “I’ll bet you anything these belonged to Jacob,” said Joshua, feeling like a museum curator. He lifted the clothing from the trunk. Beneath were other military accoutrements: a torn haversack, a tin cup, and a shapeless black hat. And – there was a hardwood walking cane with a glass knob for a handle.

  Joshua opened the haversack. An ancient wooden-handled fork tumbled out. Joshua also found scissors and pewter buttons.

  “This is great,” Joshua said, rummaging in the bottom of the trunk. Precious had found a rectangular wooden box in one corner and was examining its contents.

  Precious held up a yellowing copy of a program from a Confederate Veteran’s reunion in 1911 in Little Rock. He also found an assortment of Confederate Veteran souvenir medals and ribbons, and more programs – from Nashville, Charleston, and Montgomery. “Looks as though Jacob was proud of his service,” said Precious. “I don’t think he missed too many Confederate reunions. Look here,” he said, holding up a fading document in a filthy frame. “Jacob Picard Dubose, Lieutenant General, United Confederate Veterans, Army of Tennessee Department, 1890-91. He was some sort of commander.” He pulled the last item from the box – this one, a photograph with curled, cracked edges. Precious hooted with glee.

  “Looks like Meredith was wrong,” he said, passing the ancient photograph to Joshua.

  Joshua looked at the portrait of two men, standing before a banner proclaiming the annual meeting of the United Confederate Veterans, Chattanooga, 1890. One man, with a leonine beard and resplendent with ribbons, stood proudly shaking hands with a clean-shaven man with dark piercing eyes. The second man held a cane in his left hand – the same cane Joshua had found in the trunk.

  “So that’s Jacob,” said Joshua. He looked on the back of the photograph and smiled up at Precious. “And that’s General John B. Gordon with him.”

  Precious took the photograph and held it so that the maximum light would fall on it. “I don’t want to do this tonight,” he said slowly, “but at some point, I want to get Meredith or someone to see if they can identify this man as the apparition they’ve seen. Because, if they can … we’ve found our spooks.”

  Joshua stood, brushing dust from his knees. “There’s so much more up here,” he said, gesturing to the other closed trunks. He crossed to one, which was locked. “There’s no telling what else we might learn – but I don’t want to go rummaging through all this without Meredith’s permission.”

  Precious sneezed. “I wouldn’t want to come back up here without some kind of dust mask. But I can’t imagine why Meredith wasn’t aware of all this. You’d think that when she was younger this would be a favorite place to explore.”

  “She did say it was nasty,” said Joshua. “Maybe that’s more of a boy activity, digging around in old stuff. Or maybe her parents kept this door locked and had the only key.”

  “We’ll just ask her,” said Precious, putting the items back in the trunk and closing it. “Let me get one quick EMF reading and we’ll head back downstairs.”

  Precious made a perfunctory scan of the attic, finding nothing. Joshua took two photographs and checked his results in the display screen.

  “No orbs,” he said, smiling.

  “Fine,” said Precious, moving slowly down the stairs. “But I’m wondering how this door came to be open.”

  Joshua pulled the door closed behind him. “We’ll just add that to our list of unexplainables,” he said. “Looks like that list is gonna be pretty long.”

  The two men made their way back to the great hall and tiptoed into the parlor. Everyone else seemed asleep, and Precious lay down, again trying to find just the right position. Joshua eased himself down on the floor beside Bethany.

  “I’m not asleep, so don’t worry about waking me up,” Bethany said.

  “And I was trying to be so careful,” said Joshua.

  “I appreciate it.”

  Bethany rolled over to face Joshua. “You know,” she said softly, “I’ve been laying here, trying to be mad at you.”

  Joshua felt his throat constrict. He didn’t have to ask “about what?” He waited for her to continue. When she didn’t speak, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Joshua,” said Bethany, scooting closer and dropping her voice even more, “You can’t be sorry for who you are. But you know you’ve all but been making eyes at Meredith. She is a child. And you are married.” Joshua started to speak, but Bethany pressed her finger over his lips. She continued. “I’ve had to work through this ‘is it me?’ nonsense, and I know that your actions have nothing to do with me. The problem is that you simply haven’t grown up enough to realize how much you flirting and paying undue attention to other women hurts me. Let me finish,” she said, as Joshua tried to speak again.

  “There is no strain on our marriage. But as long as you keep coloring outside these particular lines, I’m afraid our relationship is at a standstill. I love you more than I ever have. But I don’t want to finish out our years together just … existing. I know you love me. And I
need to know our marriage is going somewhere, that there is so much more for us to look forward to.”

  Joshua examined Bethany’s face – looked directly into her eyes. “I will do all I can to be done with this,” he said. “And I am going to make myself accountable to you for that.”

  “Whatever you say,” said Bethany. “But you need to understand, too, that as a minister you are held to a higher standard. If some of our church people could see how you go all goo-goo eyed around Meredith, they’d automatically assume the worst.”

  “That’s a crock,” said Joshua.

  “I agree. But your feelings don’t change people’s opinions or beliefs,” said Bethany. “There are people in Calvary who’d take this and run.”

  “That’s evil,” said Joshua, as if that would explain everything.

  “Joshua, you aren’t listening,” said Bethany with subdued fury. “You can’t do anything about what people think. You know that. But what you can do is deal with your wandering eye. I don’t know if you’ve been fantasizing or not. That’s irrelevant. You’ve got to recognize that this is going to be your spiritual Achilles heel – this is where Satan is going to attack you. Every man’s struggle, right? You’ve opened the door, just a crack. And it’s time to slam it shut and bolt it closed.” Bethany sighed, exhausted.

  Joshua looked at his wife. He felt he should be grateful, but right now, he was more embarrassed than anything else. He’d been caught and subsequently nailed by Bethany, and deserved much more than he received.

  He also thought, obtusely, that he still hadn’t really done anything wrong, and Bethany was overreaching. In the same moment, Joshua realized that no one became an alcoholic before taking that first drink.

  “Bethany,” said Joshua, “maybe we just need to continue this later.”

  “I intended to,” said Bethany, “but I wanted to let you know how I was feeling right now.”

  “Fair enough,” Joshua said. He lay back, staring toward the ceiling. “This has all thoroughly stressed me out.”

  Bethany looked at him, and her face softened a bit. “I don’t think any of us are at our best.” She paused. “Did you and Precious see anything?”

  “Can this wait?” asked Joshua.

  “Yeah. Sorry. Well… g’night.” Bethany rolled over again.

  “Goodnight.”

  Joshua squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that sleep would simply overtake him and he could put the evening behind him. He wondered if everyone felt the same as him – I do believe, he thought. He wondered how Jimmy and Lydia, especially, were processing all they’d experienced. He even thought about how these occurrences would affect his ministry, how it was affecting his belief system, even how it might change the way he went about preparing for funerals.

  God grant that they lie still, Joshua imagined himself saying at graveside.

  Joshua replayed that chilling image repeatedly, as finally exhaustion overtook him and he drifted off into fitful sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen – Midnight of the Soul

  The sound began at 2:47 a.m.

  Joshua awoke, struggling to remember where he was. He raised his head groggily just as Bethany popped up beside him, clutching his arm. “What is that?” she asked.

  Christine fumbled for the switch on the table lamp. Al was swinging his flashlight around wildly. Jimmy stood, blinking stupidly.

  Upstairs – seemingly right above their heads – was a sighing noise, much like the muted sound of roaring water. It came in waves, first increasing in volume then decreasing, moving in swirls and eddies along the upstairs corridors. Joshua thought it was much like wind rushing through pine trees – but, as he listened, it sounded like the exhalation of breath from a titanic pair of lungs.

  Within moments, everyone was awake. Meredith clutched at Christine; Christine’s parents, both standing, inched toward their daughter. Precious had his EMF detector out and pointed upward. He cursed softly.

  “Useless,” he said. “It’s not working.”

  The noise continued, not from any one place; it seemed fluid, alive. AaaaahhhhhHHHHHHhhh, it moaned. There were three consecutive bangs from upstairs, as if doors were violently slammed.

  Al, almost gibbering with fear, gestured toward the door to the library. “Is that door locked?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Precious.

  The ethereal sighing continued. “I think I’m going to be sick,” said Lydia, her knees threatening to buckle. Jimmy held her close, eased her down onto a chair. Christine looked as though she might scream; Meredith’s stare was fixed, glazed, unfocused.

  “There are voices in the wind,” said Meredith, barely audible.

  They all heard them.

  Above the sighing, yet somehow part of the sound itself, was a man’s voice. It was though the sigh had dropped several octaves and was forming itself into words.

  “You are not to bear this child in this house.”

  The sighing increased in volume, seeming to come from everywhere.

  “Leave, Margaret…”

  Meredith sobbed, a tiny hiccup against the increasing roar from upstairs.

  The sighing, which had been roaring like Niagara in its agony, changed its timbre. Now it became higher in pitch, woodier, like panpipes. As though it came from some fantastic Olympian flute, the sound continued to roil overhead.

  Another voice. Female.

  “Papa … this is an abomination … the baby.”

  Like some extraordinary meteorological event, the very atmosphere in the room became chill. Christine cried out as the sound increased in volume. The female voice:

  “Our family will be forsaken. And you are to blame.”

  The entire house shuddered with a terrifying whomp. The group cried out as one.

  Now the sound began a rhythmic crescendo and decrescendo, moving in waves, cycling, seeming to actually stretch and contract the physical structure of the house. Joshua, trapped in the grip of elemental terror, thought, This is it. He thought he heard wood creaking, groaning.

  To their surprise – and relief – the otherworldly sighing began diminishing. It was though some beast had expended all its energy in a failed attempt to invade the house in its fury. Silence – almost as frightening as the horrific aural display – seemed to drape over the house.

  No one dared move for several seconds.

  “I might feel better if I just went ahead and screamed,” said Bethany.

  “I might just join you,” said Al.

  “People, let’s --” began Precious.

  Crack. There was the unmistakable sound of wood against wood.

  “Now what?” Jimmy said.

  Crack. Crack. Crack. A series of staccato blows came from somewhere in the great hall. Then, as though a child was running along a picket fence with a broom handle, there was another rapid series of noises – whack, whack, whack, whack, whack.

  “Sleep is officially out of the question,” said Bethany. Terrified, she moved closer to Joshua.

  Joshua realized he was no help. He fought an urge to cover his ears.

  Just as abruptly, the clattering stopped. Again, silence.

  “I think I’m ready to go home now,” said Christine.

  The unearthly – sighing? – moaning? – began again. This time, the sound was just outside, perhaps in the great hall. The air thickened. They smelled the metallic odor of ozone.

  The voices – intermingled, hollow, unnatural:

  “Papa, no!”

  “Begone!”

  Then silence.

  Joshua's muscles tensed. He felt as though he might explode. In the silence, apprehension built. Everyone looked at each other grimly.

  “Is it over?” asked Meredith.

  Precious seemed bewildered, overwhelmed. “I don’t think so.”

  And it wasn’t.

  This time, a new sound. It was the sound of a giant, or some supernatural beast, pacing the floor in the library. Footsteps thudded – so distinct that Joshua could
actually track the direction of the steps. The steps took on a wet, sucking tone, as though someone was stomping through a mud puddle. To his horror, Joshua saw little rivulets of water run underneath the door to the library. Precious, closest to the door, drew back, gaping at the wet tendrils spilling into the parlor.

  “Go away!” cried Meredith, standing. “Please – go away!”

  To their amazement, the pounding footsteps stopped. Meredith swayed and clutched the back of the sofa.

  “Meredith, sit down!” said Jimmy.

  The silence only lasted a moment. A faint sob came unmistakably from the library – the pitiful cries of a young girl. In its way, this was more terrible than anything that had come before. The sobs seemed to be coming from the earth itself, as though from a well.

  The sobbing continued. Lydia Tracy covered her ears, her own eyes reddened with tears. The woman’s sobs rose in volume and pain, as if her heart would break. Then, with a final whimper, they, too, ceased.

  The group stood paralyzed, uncertain. What else could possibly happen this evening?

  Finally, Precious spoke. “We need to leave this place. Tonight. Now, even. We’ll leave our things, and I’ll come back for them later.”

  “I’m coming with you when you return,” said Jimmy, surprising everyone.

  “No, you’re not,” said Lydia. Jimmy ignored him.

  Precious moved away from the door into the library to one of the French doors. He grabbed the doorknob. In a panic, he rushed to the three other French doors.

  “I am not believing this,” he said. “It’s as though the knobs are fused in place. I can’t even get them to turn.”

  In a sudden rage, Jimmy moved to the library door.

  “For God’s sake,” blurted Meredith, “don’t let it in!”

  “We can’t stay here any longer,” said Jimmy. He opened the door.

  Silence. There were regularly spaced puddles on the library floor, each flecked with dark green algae. Beyond the library, the great hall, fully illuminated, was quiet and still.

  “We leave. Now.” Jimmy’s face was set like granite.