by Gabe Sluis
Part of Jakes brain screamed, These are too delicate to be the gloves that the Boy-John-Ghost mentioned, while the other compelled him to take them up before he ran out of breath. Before he knew it, Jake scooped the pair into his right hand and felt himself sliding backward at a natural, but heart-halting pace. He looked up and it was as if the trunk shot away from him and he remained in place, until his legs preceded his body in a downward arc. Jake squeezed his eyes shut.
A square shaped torrent of water suddenly dropped from the ceiling, making Chris jump backwards. It rushed down from the hole into the attic with astounding force and volume that the runoff took Chris from his feet. On his butt, Chris threw a shielding hand up in time to see a figure taken down by the water, land in sitting position, in the heavy leather chair they had placed under the attic access. The water finished draining with Jake’s expellation, leaving him soaked, sitting in the chair and coughing.
“Dude!”
“Got ‘em,” Jake held the gloves in the air. “Got the gloves we need.”
“Are you alright?” Chris clapped Jake on the back several times, fruitlessly trying to dispel water from his friends’ lungs.
“Just fine,” Jake said slowly getting to his feet. He felt a bit shaky, but he did not let on. “Look at all this water. Its up to my shins.”
“There was a lot up there. What did you do to make it all come down?”
“I don’t know, I found these gloves in a trunk, and as soon as I touched them… Woosh! Gravity, it’s a sonofabitch.”
Walking to the door they entered, the water was draining out onto the small landing and down the walls to the tiled ground below. Jake and Chris looked at each other, shrugged, and made their way back down the ladder with their found prize poking out of Jake’s back pocket. When they reached the ground, Chris grabbed Jake by one shoulder before he could go for the exit.
“There is still that ladder. We should check it out too.”
Jake looked up for a moment, and back at the exit door. He was ready to get out, not wanting to risk looking behind another door in this trick house, but something in Chris’s eyes protested. “Let’s do it then.”
The ladder climb was quick and Chris took the lead, being it was his room to examine. Jake climbed at his usual pace, slightly slower being soaked and soggy. Chris climbed faster the higher up he went, and was on the landing, opening the door by the time Jakes head popped up over the ledge. Chris passed through the narrow door and entered the room beyond, with very little pause, leaving Jake to catch up.
They had entered through a secret door, hidden in the bookshelves of a small library. With shelves lining the walls and every vertical surface, the room was sweet-smelling of old books and dust. In the middle of the room, five paces from the large dark wood double doors that presumably served as the primary access point, was a round, freestanding, decorative entry table. Jake began to examine some of the books from the shelves when Chris called him over to the center point in the room.
“What do you make of that?”
“It’s pretty,” Jake said, running his hands over the carved wood, noticing the concentric rings and groves. There was obviously a design in the dark carved wood, with bits of white painted on carved shapes. “Why is there a crank?”
“That’s what I was wondering,” Chris said, fingering the small crank under the edge of the table, facing the door. “I’m going to turn it.”
“Be my guest. And by the way, it looks like none of these books has any writing in them, all blank,” he said, showing Chris the empty pages of two of the hardbacks.
With a confused acknowledgement, Chris turned his attention to the tabletop and turned the arm clockwise. The rings on the table turned, each in a different direction than the one encircling itself. In less than five seconds of slow turning, Chris stopped and stood back. The white shapes had spun around the table and matched up with others, leaving three numbers clearly visible.
“Whoa, dude.”
“Six, eleven and two…” Chris read. “What do you think they are for?”
“No idea, but this seems to be the only thing worth looking at in this whole room. Maybe it will be important later in getting out of here. Who knows? You ready to bounce?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chris said, dragging his eyes away from the numbers. He followed Jake, who was out and down the ladder, must faster than he came in. Chris took his time walking out, taking effort to limb down the ladder and break eye contact with the table. When he made it to the ground, Jake was pulling on the gloves.
“You ready to give this a try and get out of here?”
“Are you sure those are going to be enough to open that door, they look more like fancy robbers gloves than cactus petting gloves.”
Jake flared his eyes at his friends joke and slowly made his move. His covered hands both reached out and gingerly enclosed the dangerous knob. He looked back to Chris. “Nuthin’.”
With a nod from Chris, Jake turned the handle and slowly swung the door back. They discovered a tunnel, leading out toward an arch and the clear dark night beyond. Fresh crisp air rushed to them and all the trials of the past night were momentarily forgotten. Jake held up his gloved hands.
“These things are pretty sweet, it’s like they are impenetrable or something!”
Ghosts materialized in the tunnel, with horrible faces, round and transparent. They moved towards the two boys standing in the doorway in their constant slow pace. Jake looked down at his hands. “Get behind me.”
Jake advanced forward, a grimacing frown on his face. He swung his fist in an arching haymaker, striking the first ghost. It was like hitting a balloon; the phantom bopped away and dematerialized. Jake continued his onslaught.
With arms flying like pinwheels, Jake, followed close by Chris, ran down the tunnel clearing their way to the exit. When the last Ghost stood between the boys and the stone archway leading to the clearing, Jake stopped and quickly pealed off his right glove. He flipped it to Chris and ducked behind his friend. Without any conversation, Chris pulled on the glove and laid a direct punch square on the final obstacle, forcing it out, to disintegrate into the night.
They were free of the haunted house.
Jogging away down the path leading from the back of the house, the canyon opened. The sun was just beginning to rise, shedding its first rays of orange light across the wide-open land. They had survived the long night, and they were glad. Chris took one last look back at the house, then he and Jake continued northward, on to find Donny.
