Suspended In Dusk

by Ramsey Campbell

  A last minute idea struck her. She quickly unbuckled her shiny beetle-like shoes, tucked them under her arm, then opened the door and ran. Up the hallway she bolted, catching the wooden banister. Anna swung herself around it, her socked feet sliding as she turned. By the time she registered the impressive move she had just pulled off, she had already quietly yet speedily, padded halfway up the stairs.

  She had been right to remove her shoes. She had moved faster, and more importantly, much quieter. Now that she was on the first floor landing, Anna slipped her shoes back on but didn’t buckle them. It’d take too long and she had another flight to go.

  She crept up the second flight. She heard voices, male voices, muffled and deep coming from the second floor. Damn it! she thought, recognising her father by his tone rather than his words. As she reached the top she peered around down the hallway in both directions. No one. But the muffled male voices were coming from the same direction as the entrance to the attic. Double Damn!

  In the wallpapered and carpeted hallway, Anna felt like a spy from an old movie, sneaking about trying to hear the secret meeting that would reveal the villain’s plot. But she wasn’t a spy. She couldn’t just blast away anyone who discovered her, with the small silenced pistol she kept—strapped to her thigh, of course. No, she was just a girl, and if her father saw her, he’d probably send her back downstairs to help her mother. Back to the gulag with you!

  The voices were coming from an old office to her right. The attic entrance was just beyond it at the end of the hall, with its little pull string dangling, tempting her. The door to the office wasn’t wide open, thank goodness, but it was ajar, which meant they might see movement outside if they were looking in that direction. Anna crept up and peered through the crack between the doorframe and the hinges. Through the sliver she saw her father and two other men, all in their dress suits, huddled around something, their backs to the door. She still couldn’t make out what they were saying, or doing for that matter. What on earth were they huddled around? A moment later she found out.

  A muffled voice again, and all the men cried out, “Aww, no!” she heard her father say, “Damn it.”

  The men moved a little and spoke to each other their faces a mixture of enjoyment and concern. Her father patted who she reckoned was her uncle Marty on the shoulder. As they moved, Anna saw it. An old transistor radio. They had tuned it in to a station and were listening intently. There was no music, only another man’s voice. Was it a secret communiqué from their organisation’s evil commander? Nope, it was sports. They were listening to the game on the old radio.

  With their attention fixed, Anna had no trouble sneaking by. She pulled the cord which brought down the attic stairs slowly. Then, very carefully, she unfolded the lower steps and began to climb. As she got half-way up she reached down and pulled the lower steps up. She didn’t want to get caught. When she got to the top, the lower steps already lay folded up against the upper set. Now all Anna had to do was tug the trap shut, which she did. She hoped her father and the others didn’t hear the click as the steps popped back into place.

  Anna found herself in near complete darkness. She searched with her hands above her, found the cord and pulled it. The lonely bulb came on, its weak light stark to Anna’s eyes, which had just begun to acclimate to the darkness.

  Without waiting, she moved through the towering labyrinth of ancient objects and dust-cover ghosts, almost making a wrong turn, but catching herself at the last moment. Anna was so excited to see her friend again that she paid no attention to the fact that she was running through the near darkness. Spotting the old tailor’s dummy with her bonnet head, Anna smiled. Yesterday it had frightened her thinking it an intruder, but today it was like an old friend. Squeezing by it Anna went up on her toes to pat the top of the bonnet hello. A few steps later Anna found herself at the far end of the attic, facing the mammoth trunk again. She crept over to the small space behind the trunk and called softly.

  “It’s me Anna, I came back like I said.”

  But there was no response and nothing behind the trunk. Just a gloomy narrow space littered with a few hiding dust-bunnies. Anna’s heart sank. Where was her new friend?

  “Slou’ha?” she called, a little louder than before. The dust-filled darkness of the attic yawned wide, swallowing her words. Yesterday the girl had been right here, hadn’t she? At that moment Anna started to doubt herself. Her mother was always going on about how her imagination was getting the better of her. But she hadn’t imagined it, and it certainly wasn’t a dream. Anna slumped down to sit on the old heavy trunk, uncaring of the thin layer of dust that would surely mark her dress.

  “I didn’t imagine it, I’m sure,” she said to herself. Hearing her words made it more real. As crazy as it was, she had met a tiny girl yesterday, whip thin and chalk white.

  At that very moment she heard a collection of tiny whispers come together to form a tiny voice.

  “Anna.”

  She looked up, and from behind the tailor’s mannequin stepped the girl. She was not quite so tiny as Anna had remembered her. Yesterday, with Anna sitting and her new friend on the trunk, they had been eye-to-eye. Today, with Anna slumped on the trunk and Slou’ha standing they were again at eye level.

  “Anna,” she said again, coming further out from the shadows, “you came back.” The not so tiny, yet still small girl had a smile on her face. It made Anna happy to see her smile. Yesterday she’d been so terrified.

  “Slou’ha,” Anna began, “here, I brought you a sandwich. I thought you might be hungry.” Anna fished out the small triangular tuna sandwich she’d stolen from the silver trays. As she offered it to her, Slou’ha stepped closer still. She is taller? Anna wondered. Her hair was messy, but less tangled too. Her dress had somehow grown with her, but she was still gaunt and frighteningly pale, with eyes shiny and black like Anna’s shoes.

  She reached out and took the small white triangle from Anna. She seemed curious of it, but unsure as to what it was, or what to do with it. First she sniffed it, then tasted it on her little grey tongue, then just like that the sandwich was gone. Slou’ha smiled at Anna, her cheeks puffed up and moving. Anna noticed a smudge of tuna on the girl’s curved lips. Her grey tongue darted out to retrieve the little morsel.

  “You were hungry,” Anna said.

  Slou’ha moved closer to sit alongside Anna on the huge old trunk, then said, “You came back.”

  “I told you I would,” she beamed. “It wasn’t easy either. My aunt Helen almost got me, and then I had to sneak by my Dad and some of my uncles.” Anna said, proud of herself.

  “So no one saw you come here?”

  “Nope.” Anna said, “I told you it was our secret.”

  Slou’ha was pleased and she relaxed with a smile. The smile looked strange on the pale girl’s face, yet quite beautiful at the same time.

  “Can you stay long?” asked Slou’ha in her whispery voice.

  “Not too long, but for a little while,” Anna said and realised she’d been vague.

  “Good,” said Slou’ha.

  “You haven’t had any company for a long time have you?” Anna asked.

  “Not really. I used to talk with Ida, but after a while she stopped coming.” Slou’ha seemed touched briefly by a wave of sudden melancholy, but quickly brightened, “But then you came.”

  “Ida?” Anna wondered, “You mean Ida Harris?”

  The other girl nodded.

  “You mean Grandma Harris, you knew my Gran?” Anna had been thinking more out loud than meaning to state the obvious, but Slou’ha smiled and nodded again.

  “And her mother before her.” The simple statement made Anna’s mind whirl. She knew my Great-Grandmother!

  “You must be old to have been around so long,” said Anna then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that you’re old.”

  “It’s alright,” said the girl, “I’m not really. I just stay the same. I don’t feel old, especially no
t now.” Again that cute, slightly crooked little smile graced her tiny, pale, perfectly curved lips.

  Anna’s mind was so full of questions she didn’t know which one to ask first. They’d all gotten into a traffic jam before they reached her mouth. She just sat there gawping at her new friend.

  Sensing her distress, Slou’ha decided to answer a few of Anna’s unspoken questions. “I came over on the boat with Elena, we were best friends back then. We spent most of the voyage sneaking about the boat, spying and hiding and then telling each other what we had seen. Mostly we went together though.”

  “How long was the trip?”

  “On the ship?”

  Anna nodded her head.

  “It took a little over a week, but it felt like forever.”

  “Wow,” said Anna. She’d never been on a boat in her life. She’d been on a plane once or twice for family holidays, but she thought that they were probably very different. Anna found herself desperately wanting to go on a long sea voyage. An adventure on the High Seas.

  “Wait,” said Anna, ‘if you knew my great grandma when she was a girl, then you must have known Grandma Harris all her life?” Anna found this amount of time difficult to imagine. She understood the quantity but just couldn’t wrap her mind around experiencing it.

  “Not really,” came Slou’ha’s reply, “when I sleep, I sleep for a long time.”

  “Like a bear when they hibernate for the winter?”

  “I suppose it is a little like that, yes.”

  They sat there again in silence before Anna eventually spoke again.

  “What was she like? Grandm—Ida?”

  “She was much like you are now,” said the pale girl, her smile still on her lips. It wasn’t what Anna had been hoping for. She wanted long rambling tales about her Grandmother’s exploits as a child. But her new, extraordinary friend seemed unwilling to go into too much detail about the past. Anna floundered as to what to say. Perhaps the obvious was best;

  “You’re taller than yesterday, I’m sure.”

  “Yes,” said Slou’ha, the whispery voice warmer now, “I feel a little better, thank you.”

  “Thank me? What did I do?”

  “You could have told everybody about me, but you didn’t. I surely would have vanished had you done that.”

  “What?” Anna was shocked at the revelation. “Really?”

  Slou’ha nodded her head.

  Anna couldn’t believe that, with a simple secret, she had unknowingly held this girl’s life in her hands.

  “That’s why you were so frightened—you thought I might tell?”

  Again Slou’ha nodded.

  “But you didn’t, and that secret you kept for me helped me to feel better.”

  Anna marvelled at what she was being told.

  “You’re not entirely better yet are you?” but Anna already knew the answer to her question. Yesterday Slou’ha had been truly tiny and starved, ready to disappear. Today she seemed taller and healthier, but this was only by comparison. Slou’ha was still deathly thin and pale. She knew then what she must do.

  “My father and my two uncles are listening to the old radio in my Grandfather’s old study, but they’re supposed to be downstairs with the other guests.”

  Slou’ha looked up, slightly confused by the sudden shift in topic.

  Anna continued, “My aunt Helen keeps a flask of brandy in her handbag. She’s probably three-sheets-to-the-wind already.” She wasn’t sure what the last saying actually meant, but it felt right in the context and she had heard her mother use it for drunkards before. She liked the way it sounded as she said it.

  She thought quickly then started again, “My mum doesn’t like my dad to smoke, but I know he does. I saw him one morning with his pipe sneaking into the pantry. I went in afterwards. It didn’t smell like cigarettes, it was sweeter. I don’t think he knows I saw him. I never told mum.’

  Slou’ha was beaming a big gleeful grin. A the self-assured type that just lit up her entire face. Spurred on by this, Anna thought of another.

  “I did my friend Amy Reynolds’s essay at school last year, and she got top marks for it. We didn’t get caught.”

  And another—

  “When I was six I lost the class pet, he was a hamster—we called him Mr. Wiggles—and I blamed Ricky Timms for leaving the latch undone. He got sent to the corner, and no one ever suspected me. Always felt a little bad for Ricky though. No one believed him.”

  And another—

  “Tally Rimbald and I went skinny-dipping in her parent’s hot-tub one afternoon when her parents were out. She wasn’t allowed to go in. But we didn’t care. The bubbles felt nice, but the water was all chemically.”

  The two had begun to giggle at the stories Anna was telling. They giggled a little more with each one she told, until holding their bellies and with tears in their eyes, they collapsed together in a fit.

  * * *

  They spent the next hour and a half talking and telling secrets the way girls do. But this was better. It was gossiping and her mother told her that it was rude to gossip. But this was for a good cause. By the time Anna snuck back out of the attic, Slou’ha already had a touch of rose to her chalky cheeks. Anna couldn’t wait to see her again tomorrow. It was supposed to be their last day in the old house, but she didn’t want to think about that right now. She hadn’t meant to spend so long up in the attic, her mother would be looking for her for sure. She’d have to think of a good excuse.

  * * *

  Her final day at her Grandmother’s house arrived and Anna was up early. She was sad that they had to go so soon, and sadder still that she couldn’t explain why she wanted to stay longer to her parents. Today was also the day of the funeral. They would all have to go to Ashwood Cemetery for the service and burial. It would take up so much of the day as well. She wanted to go and pay her last respects, but she didn’t think that Grandma Harris could hear her. If she could then she’d hear her anywhere, but it was more for her parents. They wanted her there, she knew that. After all Grandma Harris was her Mother’s mum. She thought about that.

  Will I do the same if—when—mum passes on?

  So Anna went with her parents and family, to Ashwood Cemetery. The service in the chapel was monotonous and long. Everyone who came up to speak said pretty much the same thing, and ended up crying. Up by the coffin were wreaths of flowers surrounding two large photographs. One of Grandma Harris as Anna had known her, perhaps a little younger. The other, for the benefit of her older friends gathered here and to illustrate the long full life she had lived; an old black and white of Ida (Jones at the time, not yet Harris) at roughly twenty. They barely looked similar. White curls in one, long black waves in the other. Anna’s mother remarked on the resemblance between Anna and the old black and white image, and told her that she would look very similar when she was twenty to the large image at the front. Anna didn’t know what to say or think about that.

  Eventually, after the long boring speech by the priest and some truly awful organ music, the congregation moved outside behind the coffin. Her father was one of the pallbearers. All the adults, except her aunt Helen, had their heads down sombrely. Aunt Helen was whispering away in a gossipy fever to a reluctant family member.

  They laid Grandma Harris to rest beside her husband’s grave, which Anna thought was creepy as hell. The Priest said more things Anna didn’t quite understand, and people cried and threw flowers as they lowered the coffin. Anna imagined what the Grandma Harris she had known would say about all this. No doubt she would stand for none of it. She’d think all this weeping and wailing was a waste of time and breath. Anna had liked her Grandma, and would miss her. She would always recall the mischievous wink she’d sling Anna, when the others weren’t looking. That wink reminded her a little of Slou’ha. It was the same cheeky nature.

  Once the ceremony was complete, the adults spoke briefly and then filed away in their black clothes to waiting black cars. She was relieved to hear that they
were heading back to Grandma’s house, something to do with lawyers and the reading of the Will.

  For this her mother and father wanted her to stay in the house and to keep herself patiently amused. She couldn’t believe it—they’d given her free reign! The few adults that would also be around would all be huddled in the same room. Effectively, Anna would have the run of the house to herself. She thought of the attic and the perfect opportunity to say goodbye to her friend. Perhaps she could even persuade Slou’ha to come with them. The girl could live in their attic if she wanted. Anna would hide her in the car boot, she was so small after all. She’d fit with plenty of space left over.

  * * *

  The attic door pulled shut behind her. She had once again made a perfect getaway. No one had noticed her once she’d left the adults in the study. Anna the Spy was as invisible as ever. Her game made her think of the old films on television where the female spy in the wonderful dress always had a tiny silver pistol against her thigh, for emergencies. Small but deadly.

  Anna tugged the cord several times, but the bulb didn’t light. It must’ve blown. She made her way to the rear end of the attic, and said hello to the kindly tailor’s mannequin with her bonnet head as she passed. This time Slou’ha was waiting for her in the small space at the very end of the attic, sitting atop the old trunk.

  As Anna rushed to her friend, Slou’ha stood up. Anna stopped. Slou’ha had once again grown since last she had seen her. Now she was identical in height to Anna. That wasn’t the only thing that had changed about her either. The lacy black rags she had worn had transformed into a flowing black dress. Her hair, once all messy and dirty, was freshly combed and a shiny, glossy black wave. She smiled at Anna and took her hand. They both marvelled at her transformation.

  “Wow,” Anna said, unable to contain her shock and joy. Slou’ha smiled back at her. “Is this all because of yesterday? Because of the secrets?”

  Slou’ha smiled excited and giddy. She looked more like a little girl than ever before. It pleased Anna to see her friend so happy and healthy. She was also more than a little proud of herself for having something to do with it.