Evil Heights, Book III: Lost and Found

by Michael Swanson

  Lee jumped up, only too glad to comply. As he came back to the sofa he looked to Maggie and was skewered by the acrid glare Maggie was giving him.

  Quickly, his dad was done with the first lamp and then began changing the bulbs in the lamp over the dining room table. One of the freshly removed bulbs rolled off of the table and popped when it shattered on the floor. Maggie jumped, and Patty let out with a fresh wail.

  "Damn!” Ted warned. “Nobody come over here unless you've got shoes on.” He got the last bulb in and then came around to the large chair, still carrying the empty package of bulbs. Falling into the chair he looked briefly at Maggie, then zeroed in on Lee. “What the hell happened here?"

  Lee took a cooling drink from his water, which was still sitting on the table exactly where he'd left it, his throat burning with each swallow. He took another gulp trying to marshal his thoughts, and when he couldn't think of where to begin he simply stated as best he could in a dry and shaky voice: “I think we've got ghosts."

  CHAPTER FIVE: MOVIE REVIEW

  The plastic tablecloth felt sticky beneath his elbows as Lee poured an extra heavy dose of syrup on his pancakes. Maggie was still in the kitchen, and the crackling sound of sizzling sausages was almost as tantalizing as the smell.

  Ted had yesterday's report from Southern Power in his hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Patty had her stuffed Pooh bear on the table by her plate and was mashing a square of melting butter down into her pancake with her fork. She had spent Thursday night and Friday night in her parent's bed. Like the glass eye, Lucky Pup had disappeared and was not to be found anywhere. Ted had even looked in the attic, theorizing the attic fan might have somehow sucked it up.

  Physically, for the most part, the house was still the same, except for the fresh gouge in the paneling by the Indian's leg. Maggie had cleaned Lee's errant handprint from the picture window, as well as the ugly smear she couldn't explain from the outside of the glass. Yet the strangest tangible evidence of something having gone bizarre was, Friday morning, they had awakened to find all of their socks and underwear tied into knots, still in the drawers. Maggie had been furious at Lee, steadfastly convinced that all this was one of his pranks. Friday morning had been a tough one for everybody.

  "I've read this damn thing ten times, and I still can't make heads or tails of it,” Ted called out to the kitchen. “How can they say there's nothing wrong? Did you show them some of the light bulbs?"

  Maggie came in carrying a platter filled with rich, brown sausage patties. She put the platter on the table, then pulled out her chair and sat down. “The repair guy was all over the place. He stuck things in sockets and did things God only knows what. And yes, I showed them a couple of the light bulbs. The guy looked at me like I was crazy."

  Ted put the report down and picked up his fork, spearing two patties. “I just don't see how they can say nothing is wrong, is all."

  "At least the doctor said Patty was all right.” Maggie looked to Patty and gave her a little pout. “You don't like going to Doctor Beutel's do you?"

  Patty wrinkled her nose. “It smells funny in his office."

  "But at least he said my baby's all okay,” Maggie cooed.

  Lee looked up at her and then back down at his plate.

  Lee's glance hadn't been lost on his dad. “Lee, you've got to admit that was some kind of wild story you told us.” He raised his fork in defense at Lee's sharp glare. “Now don't get upset again, son. I'm not saying you're not telling us what you believe is true."

  His dad was obviously trying to go out of his way to be sympathetic. “You know, I remember once thinking ... no swearing, there was a were-wolf that lived in the crawl space under my house back in Pittsburg. You could've done anything you wanted to me, paid me a million bucks, but I wouldn't have gone down in that basement alone at night.” Chewing his sausage while he spoke, Ted cut a wedge in the stack of butter-sopped pancakes with his knife, then speared it through all three layers with his fork. “It was real to me, as real as these pancakes."

  Lee shook his head.

  Maggie was watching him intently. “Lee you've got to admit—"

  "What about Patty!” Lee blurted out. “What about the cut in the wall over there?” He was angry and it showed. “Do you really think I went and did that? Even Patty told you what happened, and you don't believe either one of us!"

  "She's just a little girl,” Maggie's placating tone was infuriating. “The doctor said children her age are extremely open to—” she looked around to Ted for help, but none was forthcoming. “Uh. Let's see. It's right on the tip of my tongue. Suggestion. That's it. Children her age are open to suggestion."

  "Look,” Ted broke in. “We've done this all before, over and over. Lee, we're not saying you kids weren't scared."

  There was definitely something about how he said kids that irked Lee.

  "You know, you should have seen your mother at the movie. Talk about scared?” His dad put down his fork and raised his fingers into terrified claws, stuck out his tongue, and shook as though he was having some sort of seizure.

  "Cut it out Ted,” Maggie slapped at him with her napkin. “I was not like that."

  "Well almost,” Ted dropped his hands and picked up his fork, raising another bite and pointing the fork at Maggie. “You screamed, though. You did. Laura did too."

  Maggie shook her head and ignoring her husband, gave Lee the most infuriatingly placating look. It appeared this morning she was going to try another approach other than the glares, threats, and harangues from yesterday. “Lee, honey, it's not that we don't believe you; it's just that its hard to believe everything you said happened, well ... happened."

  Lees face was stony. “But you did take Patty to the doctor."

  "Yes. Yes, I did. We know y'all were scared. Patty was half terrified out of her wits."

  "We got ghosts, Mamma,” Patty said.

  Maggie grimaced.

  "We do!” Patty came back. “And there was too a monster in the window.” The piece of pancake fell off of her fork when she pointed at Lee. “Lee saw it, and I did, too!"

  Lee nodded.

  "Lee,” Ted put down his fork, and laced his fingers together as though he was going to say a prayer. “I can only imagine what it must have been like for you two home by yourselves here at night, in this strange old house, for the first time, all the lights going out, something happens to the TV reception, noise and static. You said yourself it was like some kind of crazy, blinding strobe effect. Then Patty, she starts crying and then you get scared, then she gets more scared.” He unfolded his fingers and picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee. “I'm sure it was all very, very real."

  Patty pointed to the T.V. “There was a man. He was eating a little colored girl. We saw it. It was on T.V."

  Maggie's lips drew into that tight little line, and she reflexively pulled Patty's hand down. She then skewered Lee with an ice-cold glare and slammed her wadded up napkin down on the table. “Lee Coombs, see what you've done!"

  "Maggie, Maggie.” Ted's voice was calm. “I thought we agreed we're not going to blame Lee."

  She sat back and snatched up her napkin, but the line her lips had become remained. Looking at her plate she said, “I know. I know. I'm just so upset by all this. You're right; Lee's mostly a good boy. I know he really wouldn't, on purpose, do anything like this just to scare his sister.” Those lips drew up into what was supposed to be a conciliatory smile.

  "Of course, he wouldn't,” his dad came back. “I'd never even dream it."

  Lee appreciated his father's attempt at genuine concern as much as he resented Maggie's early condescension, weakly veiled as motherly concern. When she came right out and was angry he could handle that. But in her poor attempt to act understanding and sympathetic there was still very much the essence of that smirk she'd been holding over him.

  Lee sat up as straight as he could. “I've tried to be as honest with y'all as I could. I even told y'all about all the other stu
ff that's been going on. What about the other night when Maggie sent me to the store and something chased me? What about the faces I saw in that little house outback of the Ballard's? What about what happened to Ronnie and me in the train yard? You can even ask Ronnie! And I still don't know why none of you seem to remember anything that happened the night Uncle Ed and Miss Laura came over to visit."

  His father sighed. “Lee, we went over all this yesterday.” He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at Maggie who'd just lit a Kool. “Last Saturday night we all had a bit much to drink; but I don't think we got totally out of hand. What do you say Maggie?"

  She didn't look up, preferring to contemplate the smoke from her cigarette. She finally looked up to glare at him from across the table. “I don't know why you're doing all this, Lee. I really don't. Regardless of your father telling me I should hold my tongue I think you've scared poor Patty half to death. I don't know why, right now when everything is looking up for us, you've chosen to cause all these problems. I lived in this house for most all of my life. There weren't never any ghosts, nothing at all. If you ask me, I think this is all a bunch of hooey you've dreamed up to get attention for yourself. Like with the socks and underwear. Did a ghost do that? Did it?"

  She took a drag, then glared at Ted, then again locked eyes on Lee. “You heard what I said yesterday, and it still stands today.” She was tapping her fork on the edge of her plate. “Lord don't ask me why. But it's all got to stop, Lee. Do you hear me? And I'm telling you, it's going to stop."

  Behind Lee's eyes he wanted to scream out, “Weren't never” is a double negative and a whole hell of a lot worse than ever saying, “ain't."

  Ted sighed. “Come on Maggie. We talked about this."

  "No you talked about this,” she said bitterly. “It don't mean you made any sense."

  Ted's shoulders heaved as he let out the heaviest sigh.

  Last night at dinner, they'd had a family meeting. Lee had poured his heart out, opening up about almost everything. He had judiciously neglected to tell them about his trip to the train yard with Phoebe among a few other things. As well, since he couldn't think of a plausible way to describe what he'd seen in the eye going on between Uncle Ed and Maggie back in Patty's room, and frankly he was too embarrassed about his own goings on with Miss Laura, he had left all of that out. But he had gone into vivid detail about the violent confrontation, which had happened, between his father and Uncle Ed just before the lights went out last Saturday night. To which he'd received a dazed and wondrous look from his dad. His father's only reply was since Lee had openly confessed to drinking the drink mistakenly laced with rum that: “Maybe this will teach you that kids shouldn't drink booze before they're 21."

  Maggie had been even less supportive. “Shameless. Absolutely shameless,” is what she'd called him, adding that he had taken advantage by not telling someone right off about having booze in his drink. She even went so far as to say maybe the alcohol had something to do with how he'd been acting recently, and wanted to know if he was secretly drinking with some of those wild boys he'd no doubt been hanging around with.

  Lee, in response had dropped his own bomb. He'd stared her right back in the eye and said: “How could you know what was going on Saturday night if you were ‘sound asleep’ in Patty's room? You were ‘sleepin’ weren't you?” Lee had glared back at her. “That's what Uncle Ed said you were doing when he came out.” The manner in which he said “asleep” caused Maggie to flush an angry red. He would have loved to be so bold as to have been able to use the word “shameless,” too.

  Lee suddenly realized that everyone was looking at him.

  Maggie tapped her ash on her plate and glared at Lee. “Didn't you hear your father?"

  Startled, Lee came back to life. “What?"

  "Look at that,” she said to Ted. “He's not even paying us any attention. Are you drunk or something?"

  "Lee,” his dad quickly interceded. “You've got to admit that some of those stories you told us were pretty imaginative."

  Lee pointed toward the wall. “Is the cut in the wall over there everyone's imagination?"

  "We are waiting for you to tell us the truth about that,” Maggie interjected.

  Lee frowned and began to speak, but his father held up his fork cutting him off.

  "Lee, you've got to give us a chance to understand, son. You said the goat-man and the Indian came out of the wall. Look, the Indian's still there and so is that face behind the picture. And come on, you and I both know they may have a certain coincidental resemblance, but they're really just lines in the grain of the wood. Too, you said you saw an image of a colored girl being tortured and eaten reflected in the glass of the pictures and the windows. Yet you admit the T.V. was doing something weird.” His dad held up his hands and flicked his fingers in and out. “Flashing and stuff is what you said. Right?"

  Lee nodded.

  "You also say you felt some kind of a presence, and it tried to drag you and Patty down the hall.” Picking back up his fork his took a bite and continued talking while chewing. He was obviously distracted as despite Maggie being there he had both elbows on the table. “Look at this from our point of view. You've got a powerful imagination, and you're a smart kid, really smart. You're in a strange house in a strange, new place. You miss your friends. I know we're not all that far away from where we used to live, but it's still not the same. A kid your age. All that rum the other night. Who knows? Patty holds up some of your story, but we all know she gets really scared in the dark. With the lights going out, the roar of the attic fan with the doors closed. Hell, those things can suck the wallpaper off the walls. Really! I've seen it. And the television's flashing. I can see how one thing could build on another. Too, you said the thing you saw running out on our lawn looked like maybe it was Mrs. Ballard.” Ted, with utter finality speared himself a big hunk of sausage. “That's just not possible. She died Thursday morning of a heat stroke. Her body was at Fuller's Funeral Home Thursday night."

  Patty sat up. “I told Lee I saw the ambulance."

  "You read her obituary in the paper yourself yesterday,” Maggie added. “That old lady was dead and gone Thursday night. So what can you expect us to believe?"

  Lee felt defensive, but here in the light of day, eating breakfast he was hard put to make it seem real, and he knew it. In the back of his mind, ever since he'd seen the obituary yesterday an idea had been forming. Maybe Mrs. Ballard's dying had something to do with what happened. Maybe she wasn't so crazy sitting back in that little house all day. Maybe she had been making sure that back door stayed closed. Maybe there was something bad at Cherry Heights, something she knew about, something she was guarding against. And now that she is dead, it's free. He couldn't come out with this theory, not now, so for now he decided to change tack.

  "What about all the doors always opening on their own?” Lee, imitating his dad, put his elbows on the table. “What about the weird T.V. shows?"

  He forced Maggie to look him in the eyes. “You called the station yesterday. Miss Laura was right.” He loved the wince that passed across Maggie's face with that one. “Lucky Pup went off the air way back in 1952, and Superman hasn't been shown since ‘58."

  "Elbows,” Maggie said, switching a finger back and forth.

  Both Lee and his dad complied.

  But Lee didn't stop. He was on a roll now. “How many light bulbs have we replaced since we moved in? Thirty? Forty? Dad, you have the report right there that says nothing is wrong with the electricity. How's that possible? We've all seen it happen despite what the electric company says. What about all the socks and underwear? Huh! What about that? I really don't see how can y'all blame me for that? Patty was here. How could I have done it without her knowing? And you know she'd tattle. Do y'all really think I went around tying everyone's stuff up into those crazy knots? Come on!"

  "Settle down, Lee.” His dad spread his hands apart like a baseball umpire calling safe. “Time out. You'll get an upset stomach
getting all worked up while you're eating."

  Proving what he'd just said, Ted burped.

  Maggie lanced him with her eyes.

  "'S'cuse me,” he added quickly.

  Maggie shifted back to glaring at Lee with that same mistrustful, suspicious gaze she had haunted him with yesterday after returning from the doctor. Patty wasn't saying a thing, just looking at him through the bottom of the glass as she finished her milk.

  "We went through this last night at dinner, Lee.” Ted balled up his napkin and put it to the side of his plate. “I don't know what really happened here Thursday night. I only wish I had been here to see it. But, I will agree with you some strange things have been gone on. Doors opening when they should be shut, light bulbs burning out, feeling scared while you pass by a spooky old house at night in the dark ... yeah, so?” He took a last drink of coffee. “And about the T.V. shows, when I was in Korea I knew this radio operator, his name was Dennis, but everyone called him ‘Sparks'. He said when the days were hot and clear he could sometimes pick up voice communications from World War Two. World War Two! They had one of those new tape recorders in the Comm hut for recording enemy transmissions for translation back at HQ, and he'd recorded a couple of the exchanges. Maybe it was just some of our pilots having a gag on everyone, but I'm not so sure. On one tape you could hear P-41 pilots hollering about Japanese Zeros coming in over Burma. I'm not kidding! I heard it myself. And it sure sounded real to me. Sparks said the signals were bouncing around something up in the sky called the ... oh what was it? I think I remember it started with something like an I ... the Iosky, or something like that."

  "The Ionosphere?” Lee offered.

  His dad jabbed a finger at him. “That's it! The Ionosphere, whatever the hell that is. Anyway, I think that answers your question about the old television programs. Look at that antenna we've got out there. I'm surprised we don't pick up Mars."

  Lee smiled at this, his first in a while.