Up There Page 2

  The dead girl.

  Tyler had a feeling he could not breathe. When would life ever change, when would it get better for him and his dad? Why were there always so many problems to deal with? Why was his dad letting this happen? Why didn’t he pick him up from school, take him to a safe place?

  Move again. No, not again. And besides, they didn’t have the money. Tyler decided he would have to tough it out. But when he rounded the last corner, and suddenly found himself on the street where he lived, he thought he might not be able to handle it. He felt really sick to his stomach, and his knees were shaking.

  A bolt of lightning hit somewhere in the hills, then thunder shook the ground. Tyler started to run towards the house as rain splashed onto the ground with a fury. Tyler ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. He dashed up the few steps to the front door. His hands shaking, he turned the key in the lock, but for the longest time, the lock was jammed and the door would not open.

  “Great!” Tyler yelled back over his shoulder, to no one in particular, to the rain.

  The weather had turned into a fullblown storm. The rain was pounding down more as hail than as water, drumming onto the porch, which provided shelter nonetheless. Wicked bursts of wind carried loads of icy droplets to Tyler’s face, reminding him of the dead, or insane woman’s fingers. He concentrated on opening the front door once more.

  “Play with it, jiggle it a little,” his dad would say. Slowly, he took the key out of the lock, and slowly, he pushed it back in again. With a concentrated tenderness, he worked it a little, and gently, he found just the right spot where the key finally worked in his favor to unlock the front door.

  He fell forward into the house just as lightning illuminated the dark dismal afternoon, and thunder clapped mercilessly. The storm was directly overhead. When Tyler looked up into the dark unwelcoming hallway, there she stood, at the top of the stairs, the forceful mystery of this place, in a long white shredded and unshapely gown, her hair disheveled and matted to her head with blood, smiling her black, crooked smile at him. She held his grimy teddy bear in her bony hands and shook it fiercely up and down and sideways.

  “No more! No more!” she screeched and literally flew up into the exposed beams of the ceiling, taking the bear with her.

  Tyler buried his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. The storm was raging outside and swirls of wind whipped more iciness into the house, licking at his back. If he closed the door, would he be in here alone … with HER? Danielle would be here soon …

  WOULD SHE?

  Tyler slammed the front door shut and locked it from the inside as he had been instructed to do. Then he entered the bedroom his father shared with his girlfriends and peeked through the curtains out into the street. The rain was coming down in sheets now, little creeks forming and rushing in veins downwards towards the deserted intersection.

  Tyler did not have the nerve to turn around. He dreaded seeing the apparition again. He was now fairly certain she was no longer alive and hiding secretly in a crawlspace somewhere. There would have been enough places for a person to live undetected in a large old place such as this one.

  ‘Dad wanted me to have lots of space to play in. That was the way he grew up. In a large old house with a backyard and a porch all around.”

  And with stories and memories.

  ~ ~ ~

  Tyler tiptoes into the kitchen. He decided on some cereal despite the fact it was early evening. Cereal and milk would be comforting now. He heard footsteps overhead. She was walking around up there. Perhaps, eventually, they could learn to live with her. Or she would go away. And take all his beloved toys and the few happy moments he shared with Dad and Danielle with her.

  “Go to hell,” he muttered morosely.

  As if she had heard him, the dead girl stopped walking. With a high pitched screech, she threw something heavy – a drawer – at a wall where it hit hard and fell to the floor with a crash. Tyler felt a sharp pang of fear in his heart. What if she grabbed him again, and flew off with him to God only knew where.

  ‘Breathe,’ an inner voice told him. ‘Just breathe.’

  He turned on the overhead light. The rain had calmed down a little, but it was murky outside, murky and uninviting. It was getting cold, too. Tyler wasn’t allowed to turn on the heat by himself. Danielle would be off work soon. She would.

  Crunching on his cereal, Tyler listened. He imagined the ghost-dead-girl-thing listening above him, waiting. His heart was beating wildly. It seemed to be beating in his ears. Head bowed over his bowl, when he glanced up, in the window, outside, there was her face, larger than he remembered it, with black eyes, surrounded by black eye sockets, in a deathly pale gray face, mouth open, a mouth full of blood and shards of glass. Tyler jumped up, spilling the cereal, which spilled the milk in the milk container. He screamed at the top of his lungs.

  When he stopped, he hoped the ghost would be gone. He looked, she was still there, staring malevolently back at him, scratching at the window pane with her emaciated white knuckle ice hands. She wanted to grab him again, and take him away, away from his dad and Danielle.

  “Go away!” he screamed. He pushed the bowl off the table and sent it flying at the window. He was so afraid, his arm was weak with fear; the bowl bounced off the inside sill. Besides, if he shattered the glass and a hole in the window opened, she would have it easier to come in. That was not what he wanted. Could he hide somewhere?

  Probably not. She knew the entire house, lived in its walls. She was connected to the place and her forcefulness was incredible. She was the house, inside of it, defining it, there was no escaping her anger and her vengeance.

  Now, - she was still staring straight at him -, she was beckoning him with her bony hand to come, come outside, as if to play, outside into the cold and miserable weather with her. Forever. Her mouth formed the words slowly, deliberately, spitting forth glass and venom: Forever. No more. No more love. Forever.

  The light went off. It was grayish dark in the kitchen, same as outside. When was Danielle going to come. ‘Never.’ The dead girl knew his thoughts. She was wrong, though. Danielle slammed the front door behind her and walked briskly through the house, calling for Tyler and snapping on light after light.

  “Where are you, honey?” she called.

  Tyler sighed a long sigh of relief. This was the most beautiful moment of his life that he could consciously remember. Saved! from the monster. He looked at the dead girl glaring at him with menacing black eyes. “You, leave us alone, forever,” he muttered. Then she hissed at him. Clawing at the window one last time, she was whisked away, drawn back into the dark and desolate place where she lurked.

  Danielle knelt down next to him. He finally let go and hugged her.

  “What are you doing back here in a dark kitchen all by yourself?” she asked, running a tender hand over his head and through his hair.

  “I was eating cereal, and then … the dead girl came and scared me!”

  Danielle looked at him seriously. He could tell she believed him.

  “I think we have to go. Let’s pack and wait for your daddy.”

  Danielle got the coffee machine going.

  “And homework?” Tyler asked timidly.

  “Forget it. Don’t worry. Take the rest of the week off. This is a very stressful time … for a little boy … for us all.”

  Tyler nodded. Indeed it was … very, very stressful.

  “And this mess, the cereal?”

  “Go and pack your things, your most important clothes, your best jeans, some towels, a toothbrush, your dirty bear …” at this Danielle smiled, … “and your school stuff, whatever.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my mom’s house.”

  “Where is that?”

  “A little way up north.”

  “Won’t your mom mind?”

  “No.”

  Tyler’s lower lip was quivering. He wanted to blurt out about the bear, he saw no sense in it. The be
ar was gone.

  Robert Matthews came walking towards them from the hallway. He looked weary, exhausted even.

  “It happened again?” he asked, pecking Danielle on the cheek and hugging Tyler with one arm.

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Okay, then we have to pack and go.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Danielle asked gently.

  “I am, famished, but let’s just go, let’s get out of here!”

  Tyler and Danielle agreed. Silently, each went about packing things in plastic containers, suitcases, bags and backpacks. Outside, it was dark now, night had fallen; it was raining yet again, the drops thoughtfully murmuring.

  Tyler was sure the ghost was upstairs, in her lair, shaking the bear, suspended between the ceiling beams below the roof.

  Had she been a human being, a child – or was she a demon? What had happened to her? Why was she like this?

  “Dad?” he asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why is she doing this?”

  “That’s a good question,” Robert answered.

  “She’s guarding the house,” Danielle suggested.

  “She doesn’t want us to be happy,” Tyler said and bowed his head.

  “She’s been doing a good job making us miserable, I’ll say!” Robert growled.

  He shook his head.

  “Let’s not feel sorry for this … thing … or ghost … or whatever it is that kept us up last night.”

  “We could be on one of those shows,” said Tyler. He could not suppress a weak smile.

  “I doubt this one likes her picture taken,” Danielle said, finished now with loading all the groceries from the refrigerator into a brown cardboard box.

  “You mean snap a picture of her with all the blood and glass coming out of her mouth?”

  “What?” asked Danielle, appalled.

  “You haven’t seen that?”

  “Hell no.”

  “You missed the best part, Dan.”

  “You’re being sarcastic.”

  “It’s quite the show.”

  “She has my bear,” Tyler said with a small voice.

  The two grownups looked at each other.

  “Now that is being a bitch, isn’t it?”

  Robert knelt down to look his son in his eyes.

  “She is very mean,” he said softly. “I’m very sorry this is happening. I thought this house was empty, not inhabited by a sad ghost that is evil and takes away a kid’s favorite stuffed animal. I am trying to fix it, Tyler. But I have to work, too. I have to keep my job.”

  Tyler nodded. “Okay.”

  “Dad?”

  “What is it?”

  “Why is there evil in the world?”

  Robert bit his lip and looked at Danielle.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why doesn’t God punish her for being so mean?”

  “We can’t waste time thinking about that. We just have to survive.”

  With that, Robert took two heavy bags and started walking in the direction of the dark hallway, the porch and the minivan parked out front. Suddenly, the lights went out, and Robert shouted in dismay at the front door. He kicked it. It would not budge.

  “What’s wrong?” Danielle called out, afraid of the answer.

  “Door won’t open!”

  “Then out the back, quickly!”

  Danielle grabbed Tyler’s hand and began running towards the kitchen door. When she tried to turn the knob, a bucketful of slosh hit the door from the outside, what looked through the screen inlay like blood and pieces of glass.

  “It’s her!” screamed Tyler.

  “Now she won’t let us out!”

  Just as Robert was coming through the dining room to join them, Tyler’s bear hit the upper screen window of the kitchen door, drenched in blood and feces, small splinters of glass sticking out of its ears, its face.

  “Oh, no,” moaned Robert.

  Tyler shut his eyes.

  A sound filled their ears, a roar, made not by an animal, or the weather, but seemingly by a combination of both; it sounded like wounded beast – very large – dying, a storm blasting with rain and wind, and pain. Tyler hid under Danielle’s sweatshirt, and she enveloped him with her arms and upper body. Robert covered her and shielded them as best he could.

  When it was over, they unwrapped, and stretched, dazed, their faces blanched, their hearts racing. It was quiet, but they knew instinctively, there would be more. Weakly, Robert beat against the kitchen door, and after an initial jamming, the door caught in the upper corner, it gave way, and they stumbled and tumbled outside, bewildered and numb.

  “Where do we go?” asked Danielle.

  With a fury, the dead girl was flying at them, the roar coming back, her mouth ajar, glass shards sparkling, blood dripping, a wind howling as her companion. Robert turned his little family, and they ran back inside, towards the center of the house.

  “The cellar!” screamed Robert.

  They escaped through the dark hallway just in time. Robert slammed the door to the cellar shut and bolted it as the evil ghost crashed against it with a growling and a scream, scratching frantically at the wooden frame. Robert waited, bracing himself. Danielle and Tyler were halfway down the cellar stairs. They were breathing heavily.

  Listening intently, Danielle said:

  “For some reason, it can’t follow us …”

  “Or, it’s a trap, and she is already down there,” said Tyler, pointing down into the black belly of the cellar. He never liked the cavernous underside of the house; when Dad or Danielle were doing the laundry, he always found excuses not to come along.

  Robert was hurrying further down. “We’ll just have to take our chances.”

  Danielle leading the way, they ran into the main cellar area, with heating and laundry and clutter. To the side, there was a small area not quite finished, even after so many years, a lone light bulb illuminating the dirt walls. They heard footsteps from above, in what must have been the kitchen, objects thrown in rage, a female voice talking. But the voice sounded warbled, muted not only by the floor/ceiling between them, but by an inability to pronounce the words.

  “It’s the glass, she can’t talk,” suggested Danielle, and shuddered inwardly.

  Tyler looked up at his father, dirt stained and sweating, with so many questions in his eyes. Robert tried to think back, he went over it in his mind, couldn’t he have foreseen this, hadn’t he had a feeling there was something wrong with the house? No, not at all. Its Goth charm had helped him make the decision; he knew he couldn’t tolerate living in an apartment. He needed the house, he needed space. Otherwise, he would have felt he had no freedom.

  Thinking back, and going over what the realtor had said about the drug addicted woman who had lived here, Robert remembered a pile of clutter, old book filled boxes, a doll, and an old chair, in a corner of the cellar, that he had made a mental note to get rid of. Where were they? Perhaps he might find the answer, or even a clue to what was happening.

  “Stay here,” he said softly to Tyler and the distraught Danielle, holding up a hand.

  “I love you both, very much,” he added, and turned to complete his new task.

  ~ ~ ~

  In the deepest recesses of the cellar, Robert pushed and shoved until he came to the very back, dust drenched and full of ancient cobwebs. There were two or three boxes he identified as having belonged to the previous owners.

  The noise from upstairs was growing in volume and intensity. Not only were objects being thrown, it sounded as if the dead girl were taking apart closets and tearing down walls. Robert had to move fast; an instinct told him what he was doing was right. The ghost had not been able to follow them down the cellar stairs. They were safe here, for the time being.

  The final box, all the way in the back, contained things he was not familiar with … it was small, filled with old books and a set of dolls house tea cups and miniature clothing. There were documents on frayed paper; there
was a ringlet of baby hair. Robert froze when he picked up a photography and recognized the dead girl as she must have looked when she was still alive. As soon as he held it in his hand and realized how strong the resemblance was, the noise in the upper levels of the house ceased. It was quiet now, as if house and ghost were waiting, suspended in time, to pay attention to what was happening.

  “Anything?” Danielle called from the center of the cellar, closer to the light and the washing machine.

  “Well, it seems she lived here,” Robert said vaguely, unsure of what to do with the photography.

  “I wanna see!” yelled Tyler, and dove into the clutter mess with enthusiasm.

  “Wow!” he said, impressed with how the dead girl looked when she had her picture taken. She had been very beautiful.

  “Just don’t forget, Tyler, she’s been very cruel.”

  Tyler looked at the picture up close.

  “It’s like I know her.”

  “How so?”

  “Like she’s been talking to me and stuff.”

  Robert held the boy’s thin arms in his hands.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s in that little room to the front of the house …”

  “What’s he talking about?” asked Danielle, still unsure about coming into the dark corner that Robert and Tyler were in.

  “In those days, the house had no porch. They were always mean to her. One day, she couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped. But she wasn’t dead.”

  From upstairs came a loud, pain filled moan. It sounded terrible.

  A tear escaped Tyler.

  “Do you know more?” asked his father.

  “More is too terrible …” whispered Tyler.

  “I can see it, too,” said Danielle.

  “They dragged her inside, and her bones were broken.”

  Robert added: “Yes, she was still alive, and they made her stay alive.”

  “Good God,” whispered Danielle.

  “When she took me away, she was only protecting me,” said Tyler.

  “She thought they would make me stay here and live in pain, too. Because they did it to her when she was little.”

  “What kind of people do this?” asked Danielle. “Robert?”

  “Perverts. Sadists. I don’t know …”

  After a moment of silence:

  “Do you think she’s gone?”