My Neighbours Are Stealing My Mail

by Ian Edwards

  ‘OK dudes,’ Alfie announced. ‘Let’s get going. These BAFTAs aren’t going to win themselves.’

  ‘Can you find Mr Hander for us?’ Chester asked.

  Alan nodded. ‘That shouldn’t be a problem, he’s probably at the site office. We can head there now, its set up in the foyer.’

  Everyone stood up and, as Alan let them file back towards the theatre, he saw Frankie standing against the theatre wall.

  ‘I’ll catch you up,’ he whispered to James, stepping towards Frankie.

  ‘Where did you go?’ He asked after ushering Frankie back into the theatre.

  ‘I’ve been wandering around. There’s definitely a weird feeling to this place… How’s it going your end?’

  Alan shook his head. ‘It’s a nightmare. The three stooges…’ he said. ‘…aren’t taking this seriously. To them it’s all a game. A big hoax for TV ratings. If you’re right though…’

  ‘Where are they now?’

  ‘Heading towards the foyer and the cellar. They want to have a look round and speak to the builder.’

  Frankie pursed his lips. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That’s where I was when I had my weird dream.’

  Alan shook his head and sighed. ‘Let’s go and see if we can stop them doing anything stupid.’

  *

  James gave Alan a wave and a silent greeting as he and Frankie stepped into the foyer. Hander stood by the wall, pointing at the plans with a pencil while listing everything that had happened since the work began.

  ‘…I’d never seen anything like it. A gale. In a cellar! That’s not right is it? We tried to get her out, but the door jammed and she was stuck. When we finally got the door open, she was unconscious, laying on the ground.’

  ‘And it’s always the cellar?’ Chester asked.

  ‘Mainly, yeah.’

  Alfie walked up to the door, pointing his camera down the stairs. ‘We should go down there,’ he said. ‘Get an idea of what’s going on.’

  Chester took a torch from his pocket. ‘Absolutely. It’s no good standing around up here when the action’s down there,’ he pointed the torch beam down the stairs.

  ‘You won’t need that,’ Hander reached across and flicked a switch. The lights came on, illuminating the stairs in fluorescent lighting.

  ‘I’m not so sure this is a good idea,’ Frankie said to Alan. ‘I’m getting that strange feeling again. Like there’s a thunderstorm coming.’

  Alan watched Alfie and Brett set their equipment up by the door. ‘I’m not sure about this either. Let’s shoot off and see Joy. I’ll tell her I’m worried about getting in the way.’

  ‘Good plan, son.’

  As they turned to leave the foyer, James called them back. ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘We…I was worried about getting in the way. I was just going to go up to see Joy.’

  ‘There’s stacks of room down there,’ Hander said. ‘There’s plenty of room for all of us. And…whatever is down there.’

  ‘That makes me feel so much better,’ Frankie grimaced.

  ‘Well if you’re ok with that...’ Alan reluctantly said, looking at Frankie.

  ‘Come on mate,’ James said. ‘It’ll be a laugh.’

  ‘I very much doubt that,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Ready guys?’ Brett said, wandering over to Alan’s group.

  ‘Certainly are,’ James confirmed and high fived Brett.

  Alan rolled his eyes. ‘We’ll follow you down.’

  ‘OK everyone,’ Chester announced. ‘Mr Hander will lead us into the cellar. Alfie and Brett will follow, then I take up the slack.’ He turned to Alan. ‘If you and James can follow me...’

  James nodded.

  Chester continued. ‘And if you feel, hear or see anything at all. Let me know.’

  *

  James came to a halt as he stepped into the cellar, causing Alan to walk into his back.

  ‘Do you mind?’ Alan moaned

  ‘Sorry mate,’ James said. ‘I’m just surprised how big it is down here. I was expecting a poky little space.’

  Alan shook his head, stepping into the cellar alongside his friend.

  Alan had not been expecting the cellar to be so brightly lit. Five large battered portable halogen lamps were positioned around the cellar, powered by a rusty looking generator gently humming in the corner.

  The cellar itself was in a haphazard state of repair. The wall to the left had been re-plastered, while the wall to the right was partially re-plastered and had boxes and an assortment of building accessories stacked against it. The wall directly in front appeared to have been overlooked by the builders. Exposed brickwork, cracked, crumbling plaster and a faint smell of damp assaulted their nostrils. The floor was littered with several work benches, tool boxes and chalk lines which indicated where the stud partition walls would be built.

  Alan’s attention was drawn to the tarpaulin pulled across the floor in front of the far wall, secured down with bricks.

  Chester strode purposefully round the room, touching the walls, bending down touching the floor and occasionally stopping to sniff the air.

  ‘He’s getting a feel for it,’ Alfie said while he and Brett did their best to stay close to the medium.

  Chester closed his eyes, spreading his arms wide as he stepped into the middle of the room. He took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘I can feel it, tiny vibrations …’

  ‘Was that you?’ Alan hissed at James. ‘You were knocking back the scotch eggs at lunch.’

  James shook his head. ‘Not this time,’ he whispered.

  ‘Can everyone be quiet?’ Alfie ordered. ‘Chester needs complete silence to establish the connection.’

  Hander burped. ‘Sorry.’

  Brett glared at him while Alan stifled a giggle.

  Chester turned on his heels, eyes closed, arms stretched out in front of him. ‘There’s definitely something here. I can feel it…’ He took a small step forward. ‘The air is charged with energy…’

  He paused and opened his eyes. Crouching down he grabbed hold of the tarpaulin, giving it a tug. ‘This is the marking on the ground that I read about?’

  Hander stepped towards him. ‘Yeah, if you stand round there,’ he gestured at the other side of tarpaulin. ‘You’ll get a better view.’

  As Chester moved round, Hander pulled the cover to reveal more of the ground.

  ‘What are they talking about?’ James whispered to Alan.

  Alan shook his head. ‘No idea,’ he said quietly. ‘Let’s take a look ’

  They both quietly shuffled forward. Chester and Alfie crouched down, looking at the ground, which to Alan looked like damp.

  ‘Be careful son, I’m really worried about this,’ Frankie said, stepping out of the doorway.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Alan asked, taking a couple more steps towards Chester.

  Hander pulled the tarpaulin again, revealing more of the image on the floor.

  ‘Weird,’ Alan said, catching sight of the discoloured ground.

  Chester jerked to his feet, staggering backwards. Alfie put a hand out to steady the medium, who in turn put a hand to his forehead. Brett lifted his mic higher, looking to pick up any sound in the cellar.

  One of the arc lights flickered but stayed on. James shivered as the temperature dropped several degrees.

  Chester leaned against the far wall. ‘We’re not alone down here…He’s down here with us.’

  Chapter 41

  ‘I’ll make myself scarce,’ Frankie said, stepping backward through the doorway.

  Alan nodded in acknowledgement and looked at Chester who was busy pacing up and down.

  ‘I can feel his pain. So much anger and frustration. He wants to communicate, to express himself.’

  ‘Can you see him?’ James asked, earning a reproachful look from Brett.

  ‘No James, I can’t,’ Chester told him. ‘But I’m sensing he’s here amongst us…Disapproving.’

  Hander took hol
d of the tarpaulin, dragging it back across the mark.

  ‘Hold on a second,’ Chester said, grabbing Hander’s arm. ‘I’ll need a picture of this.’

  ‘Doesn’t do any good,’ Hander said as Chester took his phone from his pocket. ‘We’ve taken loads of pictures but they never come out.’

  Chester studied the impression on the floor and scratched his chin. ‘We really need a record of this.’ He looked up. ‘Anyone got any ideas?’

  ‘We could all take pictures,’ Alfie suggested. ‘One might come out?’

  ‘They won’t,’ Hander said. ‘We’ve taken enough photos down here over the last few months, and none have come out properly.’

  ‘I’ll take some anyway,’ Chester said. ‘I might get lucky.’

  ‘Excuse me. Chester…’ James stuck his hand up like an excited child.

  ‘You don’t need his permission to go to the toilet,’ Alan whispered.

  ‘Yes mate,’ Chester said.

  ‘Why don’t you just draw it? The mark I mean. A quick sketch,’ James suggested.

  Chester laughed. ‘That’s not a bad idea, but our drawing skills are pretty limited. Are you volunteering?’

  ‘Mine aren’t great either,’ James admitted.

  ‘Didn’t you get a GCSE in art?’ Alan joined the conversation.

  ‘Really?’ Chester asked, suddenly very interested.

  ‘Well. I…err…yeah. But I wasn’t very good.’

  Alan mouthed Top of the class at Chester while surreptitiously pointing at James.

  ‘Well, it looks like you’re better qualified than anyone else, so you are now the official Scared Stiff artist,’ Chester said, putting his arm round James. ‘Welcome to the team, bruv.’

  James looked anxiously at Alan. ‘I suppose I could have a go.’

  ‘That’s the spirit, James,’ Alfie said. ‘Let’s get you some paper and you can get started.’

  Within a few minutes Brett had provided James with several sheets of A4 paper and a pencil.

  ‘OK mate,’ Chester said. ‘We’ll leave you to it. We mustn’t interrupt an artist and his work.’

  James gulped. ‘You’re leaving me down here…On my own?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Chester attempted to reassure him.

  ‘Oh, Good.’

  ‘Alan will be here with you.’

  ‘Will I?’ Alan blurted out. His pleasure at James’s predicament coming to a sudden halt.

  ‘You’ll have to,’ Chester told him. ‘We’ve got to finish off our walk around and it’s not fair to leave James down here on his own.’

  ‘Oh…OK,’ Alan mumbled and watched as the Scared Stiff team made the way out of the cellar, keenly followed by Hander. ‘I guess you’d better get started then.’

  *

  ‘Right,’ James said. ‘If you could move those two lights over here a bit, that’ll help.’

  Alan sat on a work bench. ‘Why?’

  ‘I need more light. I need to be able to catch the shadows and depth of this…’ He nodded down at the ground, ‘…thing.’

  ‘Anything else while I’m at it?’ Alan asked.

  ‘Actually I could do with some water colours.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My art GCSE, I used water colours. I think I’d struggle with a pencil.’

  Alan sighed. ‘Look mate, they want you to draw this strange blobby damp patch on the ground, don’t complicate things by getting all arty.’

  James pulled the tarpaulin away, revealing the image in full.

  ‘Ah,’ he mumbled. ‘I think I might have a problem.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  James frowned. ‘Thing is, I can only draw fruit.’

  Alan stared at his friend, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, did you say you can only draw fruit?’

  James nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s all I drew for GCSE. Bowls of fruit. Oranges, apples, bunches of bananas, pineapples. That sort of thing. I was really good at it, especially pineapples, but a bit rubbish at everything else.’

  Alan sighed. ‘Oh that’s alright then, we’ll just tell Chester and his gang of Year Seven work experience kids that you’ve made a mistake, but if he’s got any cases of haunted fruit then you’re the man.’

  ‘Sounds about right,’ James admitted.

  Alan crouched down, taking a closer look at the image on the floor. ‘Look, it’s just a smudge on the ground. Can you not just copy what you see and we can get out of here.’

  James chewed his bottom lip, staring at the ground. ‘OK,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll give it a go.’

  ‘Good man.’

  The friends moved two of the lamps closer, adjusting them so that their beams played out across the floor. James sat on the floor and started sketching while Alan looked around the cellar.

  ‘It is a bit like the Adams Family Crypt down here,’ he said.

  James looked up from his paper. ‘It does feel weird. And it’s bloody freezing. Can you feel it?’

  ‘That’s what Frankie said too. He thought it felt like the moments before a thunderstorm.’

  ‘Where is Frankie?’ James asked, looking around the cellar.

  ‘He went missing when Chester started that whole we’re not alone down here nonsense.’

  James looked closely at the ground then scribbled on his paper, his tongue hanging from his mouth in childish concentration. ‘Have you got any yellow?’

  ‘Yellow?’

  ‘Marker pen. Felt tip. An H2 pencil will do.’

  ‘Why would I have a yellow pen? Just get on with it.’

  ‘You could ask Joy if she has any coloured pencils.’

  ‘Shhh,’ Alan hissed, his arm raised to emphasise the call for quiet.

  ‘What is it?’ James whispered back.

  ‘I can hear footsteps.’

  ‘On the stairs?’ James asked.

  Alan shook his head. ‘No, over there.’ He pointed into the furthest darkest corner. ‘It was definitely footsteps.’

  James stared intently into the corner. ‘Sorry, I can’t hear anything.’

  Alan took several steps towards the corner, peering into the dark. ‘Not sure I can see anything…’

  ‘Use your phone,’ James said helpfully, taking two steps back.

  As Alan fumbled in his pocket, the corner echoed with the sound of three distinct footsteps.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Alan whispered.

  ‘Bloody hell, yes,’ James confirmed. ‘Definitely footsteps.’

  Alan shone the torch from his phone into the corner. It revealed nothing save for a stack of cardboard boxes. ‘Nothing there,’ he said at last.

  Another set of footsteps, this time quicker, rang out from behind them. They turned round looking at the other side of the cellar, bathed in the light from the large lamps.

  ‘Nothing,’ James said.

  ‘But you heard it? Footsteps running round here behind us?’

  James nodded, spooked. ‘Have you noticed how cold it is in here now?’ His breath now visible in front of his face.

  Alan shivered. ‘Can you just get your drawing done and we can get out of here.’

  James sat back down, picking up his pen. ‘Don’t rush me. I got two hours in my GCSE and you’re expecting me to turn something out in fifteen minutes.’

  One of the lamps flickered, blinked out.

  Alan took a step away from the encroaching darkness. As he did, another of the lamps flickered. ‘Just get up, let’s get out of here. NOW.’

  ‘I haven’t finished.’

  ‘Can’t you just improvise? That’s what artists do isn’t it?’

  James huffed and went back to his drawing.

  Alan looked around the cellar, his senses heightened.

  ‘Mate,’ James mumbled while continuing to sketch. ‘I don’t want you to over react or anything…’

  ‘If you’re telling me you need water colours to finish your drawing then I’m leaving you down here.’

  James climbed off of his haunches a
nd wiped his hands down his trousers. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s just I’d really like to leave now, too.’

  ‘At last. Have you finished your work of art?’

  ‘No, but as you said, I can improvise.’

  ‘So why the sudden urge to get out of here?’

  ‘I keep seeing someone staring at us out of the corner of my eye.’

  Alan quickly turned to his right then left. ‘I can’t see anyone.’

  ‘There’s definitely someone here,’ James said, dropping his voice to little more than whisper. ‘Let’s go.’

  James folded his paper, slipped it into his pocket and followed Alan as he headed for the stairs. Several feet short of the doorway, the lights began to flicker before plunging the cellar into darkness as James began to ascend the stairs.

  *

  James sat at Hander’s desk in the site office and completed his sketch.

  ‘Thanks for the tea,’ he said to Hander. ‘And for the use of the coloured pens,’ he nodded at the pack of felt tip pens on the desk.

  ‘No problem. We use them for marking the plans,’ Hander looked through the window. ‘Is Alan alright?’ He asked.

  James looked up. Through the window he could see Alan staring at the plans on the wall. He appeared to be talking to himself.

  ‘Yeah, he does that,’ James explained. ‘He’s a comedian. He often talks to himself to run through his act.’

  Outside, Alan looked over the plans while speaking to Frankie.

  ‘So what do you think?’ Frankie asked. ‘It’s not just me, is it? There’s something not quite right here.’

  ‘Can’t argue with that. With what happened to Sarah, your dream, the thunderstorms, and what I just I heard. Yeah, there’s something here. Something not quite, well, normal.’

  ‘Look son, it’s not your job to sort it out. Maybe its best if we just slip away and never come back.’

  ‘I’d like to mate, but James appears to have been deputised into the show.’

  ‘Finished,’ James called out as he left the office clutching his drawing.

  ‘It looks like peace in our time,’ Frankie said, gaining a blank look from Alan.

  ‘Before your time,’ Frankie added.

  ‘Right,’ James said. ‘Let’s go and find Chester.’

  *

  James led Alan and Frankie through the theatre and into the auditorium where the crew of Scared Stiff gathered on stage. He climbed the steps, passing his drawing to Chester, who thanked him and added it to a bundle of papers on the table.