by Willow Rose
"Kind of."
Christina shrieked on the other end. "I can't believe it. So, are you two like an item now? You must be; I know you, and you don't just run around kissing just anyone."
"It's not like that," Maya said and closed the lid of her computer. "He kissed me. I didn't kiss him back."
Christina went quiet on the other end. "Oh."
"Yes, now you understand my reluctance to…I can't believe he’s telling everyone…what the heck is he up to?"
"I guess he’s proud?" Christina said.
"Of what? Forcing a kiss on me…a kiss I didn't want?"
"Well, no matter what, everyone thinks you're dating now. They're totally shipping you two. You are the new hot thing."
"I don't even know the guy," Maya said, then looked out into the darkness where the snowflakes were still falling. If it kept this up all night, they'd have to close the school tomorrow. Maya secretly hoped they would. She couldn't bear the thought of having to face the entire school tomorrow. Not after this.
What kind of an idiot tells the whole school?
"So, are you going to date him at least?" Christina asked.
"Christina, we've been over this. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I’m not remotely interested in having one."
Christina sighed. "Okay. I am a little relieved, I have to admit. I know I keep saying that he is so hot and all, and that you should date him, but the more I think about it, the more I fear losing you to him. If you two become an item, then you'll be one of the popular ones, and I'll be left all alone."
Maya chuckled. "That's not going to happen. I’m not going to date Alexander, and I am certainly not becoming one of the popular kids. There's no chance of that; don't you worry."
After that, they hung up, and Maya thought for a long time about Samuel while watching the snow dance outside her window. She had let herself fall for him and look where that got her. For all she knew, this guy could be some serial killer too. It wasn't like they carried a sign around warning people.
21
He fell asleep in his recliner as usual. Ever since Birthe had left him, he had been terrible at keeping bedtimes and instead watched TV till he couldn't hold his eyes open anymore. It was just easier that way. Then when he woke up in the middle of the night, still in his chair, he would fumble into bed and sleep the rest of the night. It made it easier for him since he often couldn't fall asleep with no one beside him in the big bed. His daughter had recently suggested he get rid of the old king-sized bed and get one that was more fitting for just one person instead.
"Would make room for a desk or a chair to sit in and read instead."
"Why would I need a desk or another chair?" he had asked her. "I have plenty of chairs. Besides, I don't like to read. Your mother liked to read. Not me."
He didn't want to give up his bed. Sven loved the bed. He had been sleeping there for thirty years with the love of his life, and now she wanted to change it out, just like that? Was it really that easy for her to forget her mother? To remove any trace of her existence? Not to Sven. He wanted to keep things the way they had always been, even her clothes on her side of the closet.
He dreamt about her while sleeping in the recliner, the TV muted, just as he always did. She came to him, embraced him, and everything was the way it was supposed to be. He was back at his job at the lab that he loved so much, and she was by his side at night. This time, he dreamt that they were sitting in the yard drinking lemonade on a Sunday afternoon. He was reading the paper—mostly skimming headlines—while she read her book. Some silly romance, probably. Sven would say something funny about the half-naked guy on the cover, and then he would laugh, while she continued to ignore him.
Those were the times, the good times.
Sven was pulled away from his good times when a noise woke him up. He opened his eyes with a grunt only to realize everything was back to what it had been before he fell asleep. Birthe was no longer there, she wasn't reading her silly novel, and the sun wasn't shining.
But there was something else, a sound that annoyed Sven. That stupid sound of water dripping onto the bathroom floor.
"Stupid plumber who can't find a simple leak," Sven mumbled to himself, then tried to fall back asleep. He'd have to call the guy again tomorrow; there really wasn't much else he could do right now, was there?
Maybe place some towels on the floor to minimize the damage?
Sven didn't really want to get up from his recliner. He wanted to return to that place in the sun, the one where she was still there, where the world was right again.
But the dripping sound continued and soon seemed to grow louder. Maybe it was just something he imagined; maybe it wasn't growing louder, but it just felt that way because it was so darn annoying. Fact was, he couldn't fall back asleep. He sat there in his chair, grumbling and groaning about the plumber and how incompetent he was when the dripping sound soon became something else. Now it was more of a slithering, slurping sound, one he didn't recognize. If he didn't know better, he would almost think that the water was moving.
Nonsense. It's dripping slowly onto the floor and will leave a puddle, that's all. Nothing you can't wipe up tomorrow.
Sven grumbled some more, then closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep again. But the sound grew louder, and now it seemed it was approaching him, coming closer and closer. The slurping and slithering noises reached his chair, then stopped right behind him. Heart in his throat, Sven shot his eyes open, then sat up straight just in time to look into the creature's eyes before it forced waves of liquid inside his body. Sven gurgled and fought to breathe while wondering if Birthe would be where he was going after this.
He doubted it.
22
I opened my eyes with a gasp and stared at the ceiling. I had been dreaming about Victor. In my dream, Victor had disappeared, and I couldn't find him anywhere. Every time I thought I saw him and reached out for him, he would run away from me, holding Skye's hand. I could still hear Skye's giggling as she pulled my son away from me.
The dream left me feeling awful about myself. It didn't take a dream expert to analyze it, and it made me feel like the worst mother in the world. It wasn't like Skye had ever giggled like that or was even a mean person. I knew she wasn't. She was just a very good friend to Victor and one that had finally made him happy.
Why was I acting like this?
I laid still for a little while, willing the sensation that the dream had left me with away. While I lay there, staring into the darkness, I thought I heard something. It sounded like the pipes in my house. They were creaking and almost moaning.
It had to be freezing out. Usually, the pipes would be very noisy when they froze over. I just prayed they wouldn't crack.
I can't remember them being this noisy, though.
I sat up in my bed, slightly worried. The noise grew into loud banging sounds, and I wondered if it had anything to do with what I had experienced earlier in the downstairs bathroom.
Is it frogs? Please, let it just be frogs.
The noise stopped just as abruptly as it had started, and I fell back in the bed with a deep sigh, my head sinking into the pillow. I closed my eyes to go back to sleep, but thoughts of my book and the newspapers and my publisher rummaged in my mind and wouldn't let me rest.
Had I really made a mistake like they all said? Had I destroyed my career? I was beginning to think so.
No, you love this book, Emma. Stand up for yourself. They'll come around. They'll see. Just give it time.
I managed to doze off, but a sound woke me up again. It wasn't the same as earlier; this one was different. It sounded like it was raining…inside.
DRIP-DRIP-DRIP.
My eyes shot open, and I looked around me. The sound was coming from my bathroom. The door was ajar, and light was coming out from behind it. I had forgotten to shut it off. The dripping was followed by a slithering sound, like something big was moving across the floor, something big and wet. The slithering sound soon
became more of a slushing one, almost slurping, and I found myself staring at the door and the small crack of light, my heart pounding in my chest.
Something was in there, something wet and slimy.
A snake?
I shuddered at the thought, then got out of my bed. As I put on my slippers, I spotted Brutus. He was sitting in my room, also staring at the bathroom door. I looked at the door to my bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and he had to have snuck in here during the night.
"Gosh, you scared me, Brutus," I said and held my chest.
I stared at the dog with the shining eyes, then wondered how he had gotten out of Victor's room where he usually slept with Vic and Skye. I distinctly remembered having left him there with them, sitting in the corner, watching them the way he always did. I had wondered—like so many times before—if the dog even slept at all. He seemed to be awake twenty-four-seven, always watching Victor.
As I approached him, I could hear him growling. A low deep growl that sounded almost like a rumble. Brutus never made a sound, so that coming from him was quite alarming to me. Something was definitely in that bathroom. Something that had Brutus on his toes.
"You hear it too, huh, buddy?" I said to him and stood beside him while the slithering and slurping noises continued in my bathroom.
I wondered if I was going to find a python in there. It had to be of that size to make a sound like that.
"Never met a frog that made a sound like that," I said.
I wondered for a second if I should just close the door and call the plumber—or maybe an exterminator—in the morning, but my curiosity got the better of me. If that thing came through my pipes, it could get to anywhere in the house. I had to know at least what I was dealing with here.
"Okay, Brutus, I’m going in. I expect you to have my back, all right?" I said to the dog. His low rumbling made me believe he agreed. If anyone ever had my back, I knew it would be him. Somehow, I just knew. Maybe because he had saved me once before.
I walked to the door and grabbed the handle with a deep inhale, bracing myself for what might wait behind it. I pulled it fully open. As I did, whatever it was that was lurking in there moved fast and disappeared down the drain of my bathtub. I hurried inside just in time to see it slip through the small holes, looking like water being sucked down fast.
What the heck?
I realized I was standing in a puddle of water and groaned. There had to be a leak somewhere.
Or maybe the animal dripped onto the floor, leaving the puddle.
But that made no sense. No big animal could come out of that tiny drain and get back in that fast. But no small animal could have made that big of a puddle or that loud of a sound either.
I didn't get it. It made no sense.
"Maybe I was still dreaming, huh?" I asked Brutus who had come to the door and was sitting in the opening. He had stopped growling.
"Nah, it was probably just a frog," I said and turned off the lights before I walked back toward my bed, Brutus following me closely. I let him stay in my room the rest of the night in the hope he would warn and protect me should this creature—that I still hoped and prayed was nothing but a frog—decide to return.
23
"Sounds like you have rats," Sophia said. "I had rats once in the attic, and they made an awful noise at night."
I sat down and placed a cup of coffee in front of her. I hadn't slept much more that night and felt exhausted. Both Victor and Maya had left for school, and Skye was in Victor's room as usual when he wasn't here, waiting for him to come back. I was beginning to wonder what to do about the girl. She needed to go to school soon and not just hang out around here, but I didn't know how to have her go without alerting the authorities. For some reason, I didn't dare to. Morten was my ally in this, and he was doing what he could to search for her parents and keep an eye out for anyone looking for a child her age, but so far, he hadn't found any matches. The problem was, I couldn't really let them take her away. Not just because it would devastate Victor. It most certainly would. But I also feared for what they might do to her if she became a number in the system or if anyone discovered the things she was capable of. I just couldn't figure out where she had come from and why no one seemed to miss her.
"You really think it could be rats?" I asked. "I mean, there was a big puddle on the floor, and just how would a rat get through my drain? The holes aren't very big. They're like the size of a small coin."
"Rats have been known to get in and out of places that seemed impossible before. That wouldn't stop them. Ugh. I hate those creatures. So nasty and hard to get rid of, might I add."
I sipped my coffee, shuddering. "I hate rats."
"You probably need to get an exterminator out here to have a look at it," Sophia said and grabbed a piece of mint chocolate that I had put out on the table for us. My laptop was lying next to me, the lid still closed. It was getting harder and harder to resist it. A big part of me desperately wanted to go on it and check what the reviewers said or go on Facebook, but Sophia had told me it was still too early. She was here to keep me company, so I wouldn't fall in, she had told me when she walked into my kitchen this morning and asked for coffee, asap.
"Besides it's a lot more fun to hang out here than clean the house after six kids ate breakfast," she added.
I, for one, was grateful for her visits. Especially today when I didn't like being alone in this big house. I felt the entire house was creaking and moaning in the cold north wind blowing outside. After the night I had, I didn't feel comfortable being here.
"Say, have you ever heard about a plumber that disappeared back in the eighties?" I asked.
Sophia looked at me, then shook her head. "Not that I can recall. I was just a young child back then. Why?"
I shrugged. "The plumber who was here yesterday told me he had a colleague that disappeared at Fishy Pines back then. I’ve been thinking about that all night while lying awake."
"Why? Couldn't the guy have just disappeared because he wanted to? Maybe because he was tired of working where everyone else poops? Maybe because he was sick of his wife and the life he was living? It's happened before: Someone telling their wife they're going for cigarettes and then never coming back. He's probably sitting on some Caribbean island by now."
"I have a problem with that assumption. Why do people keep saying that? What if something happened to him?"
"Then we would have found his body by now, don't you think? No body, no crime, right?" Sophia said.
"Maybe, maybe not," I said and sipped my coffee.
Sophia observed me. "Ah, I get it. You see a story there, don't you? You want to write a new book."
I shrugged and grabbed another chocolate. "I don't know if there's anything there yet, but I just have this feeling that I need to look into it."
24
It had to be the most embarrassing day of her life. Maya walked the hallways of school, her backpack slung over her shoulder, while everyone—literally everyone—she passed smiled and nodded at her, looking like they shared some deep secret. Some of the girls were pointing fingers at her while whispering to one another as she walked past them.
"Why are they doing that?" Maya asked Christina while fighting her blushing red cheeks.
"They're impressed with you," she said.
"Impressed? What is there to be impressed with?" Maya asked, surprised and a little annoyed.
"Uh, duh. Alexander kissed you. He's only the number one most popular guy in the school, and he doesn’t walk around kissing just anyone. As a matter of fact, you're the first that anyone has heard of. Many a girl has tried to get him to kiss her, but without luck."
Maya scoffed. "It's really not that impressive. I wish they would all just leave me alone."
They walked into the classroom for history. Alex was sitting in his seat, surrounded by his friends. They looked at him with admiration as he spoke.
The entire classroom went silent when Maya entered, and all eyes were on the two of them. Som
eone gasped while most of the others held their breath. Maya felt like they were the most ridiculous people in the world.
"Hey, Maya," Alex said and gave her one of his famous smiles. Now, all eyes were on her. Would she respond back?
She did, but not in a way that Alex had expected. Maya simply groaned loudly, then sat down at her own desk and pulled out her books. Whispers filled the room, and soon Alex was losing face.
"Wow," Christina said and sat next to her. "That was brutal. You totally destroyed him there."
"Well, he deserves it," Maya said. "For being such an idiot and thinking he can tell lies about me and expect me to be nice to him."
But Alex wasn't going to give up just like that. With the entire class following his every move, he walked to her desk and sat on it.
"I like your shirt," he said. "It really brings out your eyes."
Maya looked up at him, then shook her head. "Where do you get your lines from? A book or the Internet?"
He laughed like she had said something funny and shook his head like they were enjoying each other's company. The teacher then walked in, and Alex leaned over and whispered in Maya's ear:
"I will get you to change your mind. Just you wait and see."
Maya answered with another groan, but as she was about to say something, the teacher started class and Alex rushed to his seat. During the entire class, he kept looking at her, sending her air kisses and winking at her every time she accidentally looked his way.
What was his deal? Why was he so insistent on having her? Was it just because he couldn't? Because he could have any other girl in school except her? Maybe. But Maya didn't want to be a part of his games. She wanted to be left alone. She had burned her fingers on a boy before and wasn't going to be so stupid as to do it again. This guy had all the traits of a true psychopath, and she wasn't falling for one again.
