March 27, 2009
Melody Banks pulled back the heavy drapery and looked out into the dark. The wind howled, sending a shiver up her spine. Where was he? Why wasn’t he home yet? She chewed a fingernail nervously praying that her son would pull up in the driveway. She loved his weekend visits, but he should have stayed at school for this one. The storm was bad. Rain poured down the window and flowed through the streets. The wind was ferocious, knocking out the power and rearranging the neighborhood lawn ornaments. She wasn’t sure his tiny Honda would hold the freeway.
She let the curtains fall shut and sighed, wrapping her arms around her. A tiny dog yapped at her feet. She reached down and stroked the terrier’s brown fur. “Should we start a fire, Sprout?” He yapped again and she forced a smile. “You’re right, it’s darn cold in here.”
She glanced back at the window, then turned away and headed for the fireplace. The house was large, built nearly a hundred years earlier. During the remodel a few years back she’d had a fireplace added to the upstairs master suite. She figured it would help to save on the heating bill, besides she liked to lie on the bed with Sprout and enjoy the flickering of the flames while she read.
She grabbed a log from the brick hearth and set it in the center of the fireplace, then stuffed some torn newspaper in and around it. The only sound in the house was her puttering. Her husband, Frank, had died six years earlier of pancreatic cancer. She had Sprout and Daniel, her son. She swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping he’d be home soon, wishing he’d decided not to come.
The wind continued to howl. She shivered a bit as she struck the match. She was so tired, but too worried to sleep. She tossed the match in and shut the heavy fireplace screen. It slid, screeching along the bricks. Flames rose up around the log, cradling it, licking it, warming the room. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back into the pillows, closing her eyes.
Light lit the bedroom window just a moment then dimmed and she heard what might have been a car door shutting.
She went back to the window and looked out. It was Daniel. “Thank God,” she whispered, looking heavenward. Sprout yapped again, and headed for the door. She grabbed her flashlight and followed him down the stairs, then pulled open the front door. “Daniel, thank goodness. I was worried.”
He nodded and hurried inside. “Sorry I tried to call, but service is out.” He shook the water from his dark hair and shrugged out of his jacket. “This is crazy. I hope it doesn’t last long.”
She took his jacket and hung it on the coatrack. “Me too. I was scared to death you wouldn’t make it. Do you want some tea or something? I’ve got a kettle heating on the woodstove in the kitchen.”
“Please.” He wrapped her in his arms. “Sorry I worried you. I had no idea it was going to be this bad or I would’ve stayed at school.”
“Nobody knew. First the wind kicked up, then rain came, and the power has been out for three hours. The house is freezing. You can sleep in my room if you want. I lit a fire.”
He laughed a little. “It’s okay, Mom. I haven’t had to sleep in your room since I was six.”
“Well we can start a fire in the living room if you want to stay downstairs.”
“Sure.” He took the tea she offered and wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic mug. “I’m pretty tired, should probably go to bed soon. I’m sure the storm will have moved on by morning.” The wind howled again and thunder clapped loudly as if to say ‘don’t bet on it.’
“Gosh I hope so. I’d really like the power to come back on. You know how I feel about the dark. It creeps me out.”
He smiled knowingly. “Yeah, me too a bit. Plus, we can’t cook too much on a woodstove.”
She kissed his forehead. “Well now that I know you’re safe and sound I’m gonna head up to bed. You want me to start the fire in the living room?”
“Nah, I’ll get it. G’night, Mom.”
“G’night, honey.” She glanced back at him as she started to leave the kitchen. He was the image of his father. They shared the same chestnut hair, long straight nose, and both had that wide generous smile that lit their face.
“What is it?” He had caught her watching him.
She smiled. “Nothing…just forgot what I was gonna say. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“G’night.”
She traipsed back up the stairs with Sprout on her heels. Her robe was a bit wet from hugging her son and hanging his soaked jacket, but she didn’t care. She was exhausted and collapsed into bed, not even stopping to brush her teeth. She felt lighter, knowing he was safe had made everything else fade away and as soon as her eyes closed she was met with sleep.
The dark silence was shattered with a bang. No banging…she heard banging and then Sprout licked her face. The door? she wondered groggily. “Who…?”
She got up off the bed and peered out the window. There was a police cruiser parked where Daniel’s Honda should have been. She shook her head, too tired to make sense of what was going on. She blinked, but the police car was still there and so was the banging. Sprout yapped and rubbed his head on her leg. She grabbed the flashlight she’d left on the bedside table and hurried downstairs. “Daniel…” she said somewhat softly. “You awake?”
She glanced around the living room. Nothing. There was no sound – no Daniel. She headed for the kitchen. “Daniel?” There was no ceramic mug on the kitchen table. She heard the banging again. Was it a dream? No, he’d been there. She’d hugged him. He – she looked down at her robe. It was dry. A dream…oh, God, it was just a dream.
She hurried to the living room and glanced at the coatrack. No coat and no puddle beneath it. Her throat felt thick, tight. She forced herself to swallow and slowly reached for the doorknob. A slow breath seeped through her dry lips as she unlocked it and opened the door. “Officers…”
The officer bowed his head. “Mrs. Banks?”
No! she wanted to scream. She didn’t want to be Mrs. Banks. Not now, not ever again. “Yes…what…?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Do you mind if I come in?”
Yes! Go away! Forcing herself to swallow the persistent lump in her throat, she shook her head and pulled the door open wider. Her legs felt like jelly, slowly sinking beneath her, but she fought to stay upright.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you this, but there was an accident. Your son – “
Her legs collapsed. She fell to the hardwood floor, her eyes wide, her world spinning. It should have hurt. She should have felt the pain in her knees, but she only felt the swelling in her chest, the cold doorknob, the spinning.
The officer knelt down to her. “Can I help you up? Can I do anything?”
She met his gaze – his sympathetic gaze, her eyes brimmed with tears. “You can tell me Daniel is fine. That you’ve come to take me to the hospital to be with him.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, so sorry, but the roads…they’re slick, the Honda couldn’t hold it and the other car…” His words trailed off. What more was there say?
She lurched forward and her chest caved in on itself. She collapsed on the cold hardwood floor and her eyes fell shut.
“Ma’am,” the officer prodded. He touched her, laying a hand on her back, but got no response. He picked her up, shut the door behind him, and headed for the hospital.
* * *
April 29, 2010
Teresa Banks pulled up in the driveway of her uncle’s house and got out. “The house is huge,” she said somewhat taken aback. “I don’t remember it being this big.”
Her husband, Michael, got out of the car and joined her at the front door. “Did you visit often?”
“Not really…maybe once or twice. It’s quite a trip from home as you know and my dad never got along real well with Uncle Frank.”
Michael nodded. “That’s what you said. I just think it’s weird that the house ended up going to you.”
“Me too, but there really isn’t anybody else.” She took the key from her pocket and slid it into the lock. “I’m just glad we finally made it out here.” She opened the door and stepped inside, surveying the empty house. It was getting dark out. She flipped the closest light switch, but nothing happened. “Damn, did you call the electric company last week?”
Michael nodded. “Of course, they should have had the power on by now.”
The house had been sitting empty for just over a year. After her cousin’s accident and her aunt’s subsequent heart attack, a neighbor had been hired to take care of the home. He checked on it every few weeks and had sold or donated most of the furniture and appliances. Very few items remained. There was a coatrack to the left of the front door – it still had a jacket on it. Her aunt had been in hospice care up until just about six months ago. The heart attack she’d suffered had left her extremely ill and the emotional toll had been immense. She finally reached the point where she couldn’t take anymore – physically or otherwise and slipped away almost exactly one year after her son’s death.
Michael wondered ahead of Teresa and up the stairs. “I wanna see what we’re getting ourselves into before it gets too dark outside to see anything in here.”
“Okay, I’ll be up in a sec. I wanna see the kitchen.” Teresa wondered through the empty living room and entered the kitchen. It was rather large, updated too, which was nice. A good place to raise a family, she thought. The cabinet doors were cherry with glass panels, beautifully etched. The dishwasher was relatively new. There was a gas range and great deal of counter space. She picked up a ceramic mug off the counter and raised a brow then set it back down. Maybe it was the neighbor’s.
She wondered back into the living room and started up the stairs. “What do you think?” she called. “You ready to pack a truck and move on out here?”
Michael met her at the top of the staircase. “It’s beautiful. There’s a fireplace in the master suite and a claw foot tub in there big enough for two.”
She smiled. “I see where your priorities are. How many bedrooms? I can’t remember.”
He wrapped an arm around her and led her down the hall. There’s the master up here and three bedrooms down this way. I think the paperwork we got from the lawyer mentioned two more bedrooms downstairs.”
She peered into doorways, and glanced at the ceiling. The home was old, but she saw no cracks in the ceiling to indicate issues with the foundation. The hardwood floors were amazing, but in need of waxing.
“It’s beautiful. And you’re right, that fireplace is great and the tub is huge.” She smiled and took his hand. “Let’s go though, it’s getting dark. We have to call the electric company again in the morning and get that taken care of then meet with the lawyer to finish up the transfer paperwork to get it out of Uncle Frank’s trust and into my name. Ooh, and don’t let me forget to schedule an inspection. I want a pest inspection and I’d like to get somebody out here to check the electrical wiring.”
“Yep, and all before five when our flight leaves to go back to Seattle.”
“I just hope the movers have everything ready for the drive out here next week.”
Michael laughed. “They will, don’t worry.”
They stepped out and locked the door behind them. “It’s late and I’m hungry,” she mumbled.
“Me too.” They got back in the car. The sun had almost sunk completely in the distance and rain started to fall on the windshield. “Crap,” Michael mumbled, glancing heavenward. “It looks like a storm is coming.”
“I don’t doubt it. They get some pretty intense thunderstorms back here in the spring from what I understand.” She bucked her seatbelt and glanced up at their new home. Moving to Wisconsin from Seattle was a huge undertaking, but she was excited. She couldn’t wait to raise a family in the large Victorian home. It would be perfect.
She glanced up one last time at the house. It was white with pale yellow trim. There was a perfect place in front for a flower garden and the wrap-around porch was darling. She looked up as more rain started to fall. Michael started the car and put it in reverse.
“Is that – “ She stopped her thought mid-sentence. Upstairs in the window of the master suite there was a woman. She wore a long robe and was wringing her hands nervously . She looked extremely worried – almost scared.
“What?”
She glanced at Michael the back to the window. Heavy curtains hung unmoving where the woman had been. Or had there had been a woman? Teresea swallowed. “Oh nothing.” I’m sure it’s nothing.
* * *
April 29, 2010
Melody Banks pulled back the heavy drapery and looked out into the dark. The wind howled, sending a shiver up her spine. Where was he? Why wasn’t he home yet? He would be soon. She knew he’d be there and the place was freezing. She dropped the drapes and sighed. “Sprout! Sprout!” Where was the dog? Oh well, she thought. Daniel would be home soon and she needed to start a fire to warm the place up. Then, she figured, she’d just go downstairs and put a kettle of tea on the woodstove in the kitchen. Yes, tea would be perfect and Daniel would be there soon.
Gina Ryan 