Five

It took me a few days to get back to feeling like myself.  My mom and dad were patient even though that meant a halt on the activities for the family.   I know my father was especially unhappy about my lack of presence.  My sisters were the most unhappy though because they had to make up my share of the chores in the house and being the oldest I had a lot of responsibility. 

I had the same dream over and over about the field with the man collapsing.  Each time the water became brighter and more colorful.  I wondered what it could mean.

The closet door in my room seemed to open and close constantly.  It reminded me of the dream with Sarah taking me down to the basement through the secret passageway.  I looked and looked, but there was no passageway.

We had lived in this house for only about two weeks and my mom had woken up my sisters or myself almost every night claiming she heard one of us crying.  I only partially believed that she heard it, she often felt a little smothering as a parent.

“Your father and I are going out for the evening tonight.  I want you to babysit your sisters while we are gone.”  My mom told me one afternoon when all the work in the house was finished.

“Mo-om!  We’re old enough to watch ourselves!”  Deanna exclaimed.

“Yeah!” Betty chimed in.

“Ok, we won’t call it ‘babysitting’”  Mom said to them, “but I want you to respect your sister if she says something because in an emergency she is in charge.”

“Aww.”  They both whined about her response and left the room. 

If I had cared much to be a part of their playtime I might have felt left out the way they always stuck together.  I just never felt like spending a lot of time with them.  They would laugh at things I said, and give me funny looks when I tried to tell them something.  My sisters were never interested in the things I wanted to talk about and do.  They liked dressing up and reading magazines about TV and fashion.  I preferred books and studying things.  Some days I would sit in my window and ponder the meaning of life.  I suppose to them that was strange.

“Don’t get too bossy with them Sam, ok?”  I knew mom really trusted me because she never left my sisters alone without me there.

“I know mom, they think they are on their own, but I still have to protect them just in case.”

“Exactly.  Don’t let them answer the door to strangers or play on the stove.”

“I know mom.”

After mom and dad had left for their evening out, I made some sandwiches for us to eat and we agreed to have them as a picnic upstairs.  I decided to play along with them for once just to be nice.  We laid a blanket on the floor in their room and set up our dinner to enjoy.  My sisters thought it was fun since we weren’t allowed to have food in our rooms.  We chewed our food quietly for most of the meal.  Then I got an idea.

“I know a game we can play.” I told Betty and Deanna.

“What?” They said in unison with their eyes widening.

“Let’s play ghost!”

“Ok. How does it go?”

“One person plays spooky music on the piano and the other two make spooky sounds and creep around upstairs.  Then we try to scare each other.  Kind of like hide-and-seek only with ghosts.”

“That sounds fun.” Deanna said.

“Yeah, who goes first on the piano?” Betty asked.

“You can.” I told her. “De and I will hide and make spooky noises and lets see who scares who the most!”

“Ok!”

We grabbed our picnic plates and put them in the sink so our dad didn’t yell at us when he got home.  Then Betty started playing music on the piano that sounded scary.   Deanna and I went upstairs and hid in the attic room pretending to cry like mom always had claimed she heard.  We left the light off so it was very dark.  Deanna held onto my arm tightly as we moaned and howled out to our little sister like we were disembodied spirits. 

After Betty played a few more notes she came upstairs calling out to us.

“Is anybody there?”  She said as she climbed up the staircase.  “Hello?”  She paused in front of the attic where Deanna and I were trying not to giggle.  “Hello!” Betty called out again.  “Hmm.” She said, “I guess I am hearing things.”  She pretended to go down the stairs a few steps.  Deanna let out a giggle.  Then the attic door swung open hard from Betty finding us.

“Caught you!”  Betty shouted with laughter.

“Me next.”  Deanna giggled.

“Ok, you go start playing and we’ll hide.” I told her

This time I suggested to Betty we hide in the crawl space.  She agreed.  We crawled in through the small doorway and started moaning and wailing like ghosts.  Deanna came up the stairs as Betty had calling out like she didn’t know what was making the noises.  When she got to the top of the stairs we quieted down and waited to be found.  She walked down the hallway and looked in the rooms.  She checked the attic and then our closets.  Suddenly she screamed out loudly.

Betty and I hurried out of our hiding space to see what was wrong and there stood Deanna laughing at us. 

“Caught you!”  She had played a good trick.

“Ok, my turn.”  I told them.  “Make it a good hiding spot for me ok?”  The both nodded their eyes wide with excitement.

I went down to the spare room where my parents had set up the piano and started to play the spookiest music I could think of.  After a few moments I heard a sound like crying and moaning and went to find where my sisters had hidden.

As I stepped up the stairwell I paid attention to where any of their moans might have been.  I couldn’t tell whether it was in a room or a closet.  As I neared the top I noticed the curtains were rustling as if someone had just been playing with them.  Then I looked at the attic door and saw a light shining through the cracks under the door.  I wondered if they realized that I could see the light and opened it as suddenly as I could.  There wasn’t anyone in the room.  Just the boxes my parents had left and the axe on the floor near the newer floorboards.  I stood in the doorway of the attic room, looked down the hallway and strained my ears to hear them.  I heard a shuffle in the attic room behind me and turned to see what it was.  The only thing that seemed strange was the location of the axe seemed to be a foot or so from where I thought I had noticed it a moment ago.

I walked down the hallway leaving the door open to the attic room so they couldn’t hide in there after I had left.  I thought I heard some movement in my room so I tiptoed down towards the open doorway.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the image I had seen in my dream in my sister’s room.  The lady holding my sister by the hair.  I turned my head to get a better look and the image disappeared; just my overactive imagination.  I continued to my room. 

As I entered my bedroom, I noticed my closet door was rattling a bit.  My heart started pounding from the excitement of the game, I was sure I had just found them.  I pulled open the door and looked into the darkness.  Nothing but my closet and clothes were in front of me.  I turned to continue looking for them and felt a pair of hands on my chest pushing me hard into the closet.  I didn’t see anyone doing it, I only felt the hands.  I fell into the back wall of my closet with a loud crashing sound like I had broken the wall.  The closet door slammed shut on me and I was alone in the darkness with the breath knocked out of me.

Remembering the time when I had knocked the wind out playing on a chair as a small child and how my mother showed me to fix it I knew what to do.  I put my head between my legs and breathed slowly until I felt better.  It was quite a task to make it happen with my heart beating so hard it felt like it was in my throat and I could still feel the hands on my chest that I hadn’t seen as if they had left their imprint on my body.  Once I regained my breathing and could stand up straight I felt around for the handle of the door.  I found it and attempted to turn the knob.  It didn’t move even a little.  I rattled the knob and pushed on the door.  I couldn’t get it to open at all.  I started feeling a little panic and called out to my sisters.

“Betty!  Deanna!”  I shouted to them.  “Help!”  I screamed it over and over again until tears were in my eyes.  I kept pushing and pounding on the door trying to turn the knob and it wouldn’t turn.

Finally I felt the door give way as I pushed on it and my sisters were standing behind the door gaping at me as if I were crazy.

“What happened?”  Betty asked me.

“I don’t know, something pushed me and locked me in!”  I cried out to them trying to catch my breath from the tears I had shed.

“The door wasn’t locked.  See?”  Deanna showed me the handle moving freely. 

I examined the handle on the door and realized there wasn’t even a place to lock it.

“Are you ok?”  Betty asked.

“I don’t know,” I told her, “my chest hurts like someone hit me, I got the wind knocked out of me too.”  I sat down on my bed and lifted my t-shirt to see if there were marks on me.

Betty and Deanna gasped loudly at what we all saw.  Two red handprints right where I had felt the hands pushing me stood visibly out on my skin.

“Let’s not play this anymore.”  Betty said

“Agreed.” I said.  Deanna just nodded her head looking at me with real fear in her eyes.

We went down to the living room to watch tv for the rest of the evening.  Deanna was tired first and went to bed.  Betty took a bath and went to bed next.  I was left alone in the living room not wanting to go back to my room.  When the shows were over I pulled out a book to read while I waited for my parents to get home.  It seemed like hours I sat there reading until I heard something.  It sounded like one of my sisters were crying above me.  I rolled my eyes thinking they were trying to scare me again.  I really didn’t want to go back upstairs yet, but the crying seemed so sad like someone was really hurt.  Finally after several minutes of trying to ignore it I decided to brave the upper level of our home for the sake of protecting my sister, whichever one was having the problem.

As I crept up the stairs slowly I noticed the curtains blowing above me at the top.  At first it looked like someone was under them.  I opened my mouth to say something about it and realized my eyes were playing tricks on me, they were just blowing from some wind.  At the third step from the top the crying stopped and the curtains fell flat.  I looked at the window and realized that it was closed.  That frightened me tonight so much more than it ever did in my dreams.  I rubbed my eyes thinking I was seeing things.  I checked the window, it was locked and closed as I saw.  I tested the lock.  The window stayed shut.  Then I remembered how I had heard the crying and quickly stepped into my sisters’ room.  They were both in their beds looking asleep. 

“Who is crying?”  I said out loud.

They didn’t reply.

“Hey,” I said a little louder. “Why are you crying?”

Betty stirred in her bed. 

“Are you guys messing with me?  It isn’t funny!”

Still they said nothing so I went back down to my book.  A little while later the same thing happened.  I heard someone crying, I went to check it out, but when I got there they both lay in bed as if they were sound asleep.  I decided to make sure they were asleep.  First I started with Betty since she was the one moving around last time.  I tapped her shoulder and shook her a little.

“Hey,”  I put my hand under her nose.  I cold feel her breathing slowly.  “hey,” I said louder.  She jumped a little in the bed and opened her eyes.

“What?”  she asked me.

“Were you crying?” I looked at her seriously.  “I don’t think it’s funny.”

“You sound like mom.”  She told me.  I thought about all the nights mom had woken me the same way.  I decided to just let Deanna sleep and went back downstairs.  I opened my book and a few moments later I was involved in the story I was reading.

Suddenly I heard a door rattling.  I wasn’t sure which one, it sounded like it was coming from my parents bedroom.  I started to scream and realized my mother and father were standing in the living room looking at me.  I covered my mouth with my hand and stopped the scream mostly.

“What are you doing!” my father more demanded than asked me.

“You scared me.” 

“You should be in bed!”  He said crossly.  “What are you still doing up!” 

I wasn’t sure if he really wanted an answer so I hesitated a moment.  Mom came to me and put her arm around me guiding me towards the back of the house.

“I’ll get her to bed.”  She told him.

As she escorted me upstairs she could tell I was reluctant to go.

“What’s wrong honey?”  She rubbed my back still pushing me forward.

“I just had a weird night mom.”  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell her about all of it, partially because I thought she might be disappointed at our rough housing, partially because I wasn’t sure she would believe me.

She guided me down the hallway and into my room.  I sat on my bed as she got out my pajamas looking at my closed closet door.  She told me to undress and  put the pajama’s on as she set them beside me on the bed.  I started to obey and she moved towards the door and stopped and looked back at me startled.

“What happened to you this time?”  She asked me looking closer at my chest.

I wasn’t sure what to tell her or how.

“Did one of your sisters do this to you?”

I looked at my closet door shaking my head no.

“Speak to me Sam, what happened.”

I broke down and started to cry as I explained our events of the evening.  Mom sat in my chair and listened with fear on her face.  She waited a long while after I finished before she said anything.

“Tell you what,  I will sit here with you until you go to sleep, ok?”  She offered.

I nodded.  She tucked me in, this time I didn’t object or feel babied at all.  I was so grateful. 

“Do you want me to read to you?”  She asked.

“Could it be poetry?”  I responded with my request.  “I don’t think anything exciting would be good tonight.”

She smiled and let out a small chuckle.

“Of course.”  She said to me reaching for my Emily Dickenson book.

It took several poems before I finally dozed off.

My dreams were inconsistent images and colors, nothing connecting to each other when I woke in the night to a booming.  At first I thought it was like the pounding I had heard previously in a dream, but then after the pitter-pattering on my window I realized it was only thunder.  I listened to the rain until I dozed off again.

Four

It was a few nights later when I dreamed about the house again. 

Sarah was standing at the window above the stairs inside the curtain.  She was crying quietly to herself.  I walked up behind her and watched her for a moment before I decided to speak.

“Are you ok?” I asked her.

She stopped crying and turned to me.  Her eyes were darker than I recalled from the last dream I had of her.  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

The door creaked at the bottom of the steps.  Sarah grabbed my hand and pulled me into the attic room before the lady with auburn hair came up the stairs.  She put her finger to her mouth as if to say “be quiet”.  I heard the lady walk down the hallway.

“Is that your mom?” I whispered to her.

She nodded her eyes big with fear.  A few minutes later the floorboards creaked again as if someone had gone down the stairs and the door shut.  A click came right after that I recognized as the sound of a latch being put in place.  We were locked into the upper level.

Sarah opened the attic room door and pulled me down to her room.  She pointed out her/my bedroom window as if she wanted me to look out.  I peered through the glass and saw her mother leaving through the gate.  She looked up at us crossly in the window before starting down the street.

Sarah opened the closet door and pushed a piece of the wall until I heard a sliding sound.  I watched her open the wall up through this piece.  Behind the wall was a small opening.  She gestured me to follow her as she descended on a little ladder.  It was several steps down and a very tight enclosure.  I almost felt like I would suffocate.  When we reached the bottom of the ladder, she disappeared from my sight.  I turned around and saw a small opening into a dark room.  It reminded me of the coal room I had cleaned, except the half wall was missing and there were bins of coal in the corner.  I saw her skirt slip through the doorway and followed her. 

The basement of my house looked very different.  There wasn’t a workbench or the washer and dryer.  The shelves my father used for his tools weren’t there either.  A large woodpile was where those items stood. 

I walked around the corner looking for her and saw a man working on something.  He was so involved in what he was doing he didn’t seem to notice me.  I couldn’t see what exactly he was working on because of the way his body was positioned.  I scanned the area looking for Sarah and couldn’t find her.

“She went upstairs.” The man’s voice startled me.  “Be careful you don’t let my wife find you wandering around, she’s not kind to unexpected visitors.”

I climbed the steps slowly and carefully watching for something that might grab my foot from beneath the staircase.  I found myself in the kitchen.  It looked very different than ours did.  There wasn’t a refrigerator and the stove was an old black cast iron looking thing, it had a pipe leading up through the ceiling.  The cupboards were different than what we had, and the sink was larger and made of porcelain. 

I peeked through the door that led to my bathroom and was surprised, she had told us the bathroom was an add on, but there were fixtures in place in this house, although they were a little different than ours – you could see more of the pipes to them and they had a different shape.

I heard a giggle behind me and turned to see Sarah.  She pulled me into the pantry and offered me a cookie.  I took it and bit into it.  It was a chewy oatmeal based cookie with some sort of fruit pieces. 

Suddenly the room went dark and everything blurred out of focus.  Sarah, the house, the cookie I was eating all disappeared and I was in an open field watching a man work in the garden.  He was bending over weeding some vegetables and suddenly collapsed, then a river opened from the ground and water in the color of a rainbow swept him away. 

I opened my eyes to see my mother over me with a thermometer.  I felt so hot and cold at the same time.  My stomach felt so sick I wasn’t sure if I was going to puke.  I turned over in my bed and noticed she had placed a bowl at the floor.  I also noticed a wet mark on the floor I don’t remember making.

“Honey, it’s ok, you just have a bug.  Your fever has come down a bit since I last woke you.”  Mom shook the thermometer and wiped my forehead with a cloth.

I felt really confused about what she was saying.  I didn’t remember anything but my dream.  It was hard to let it slip away from me, but reality started setting in more and more and my body was aching. 

Mom gave me some nasty tasting syrup and helped me change into a clean nightgown. 

“I found those nice quilts that you had on the floor.  They had to be cleaned but they came out rather well.  What do you think?”  I looked at the blanket she had over me and realized it was the Holly Hobbie quilt I had found in Sarah’s box.

“Did you find a picture?”  I mumbled to my mom, my throat was feeling scratchy too.

“The one you drew?”  She pointed at the crayon drawing I had hung on my wall.

“I didn’t draw that, I found it.” I replied.  “I mean the photo that was on my desk.  It was a black and white, it was old, it had the same people as the drawing.”  I started to cough.

“Don’t worry about it now honey, just get some rest and feel better.  I will check on you in a bit.  Do you think you could stomach some apple juice?”

“I’ll try.”  I told her.

“I’ll have Betty bring you a glass.”  She left the room.  I heard her walking across the hallway floor to the stairs, and then the steps she took descending the staircase.  A few moments later Betty appeared with a glass of amber colored liquid and handed it to me.

“Mom says to sip it slowly.”  She told me.

I took the glass and tasted it, like always when we were sick it was watered down.  I was grateful that it wasn’t too strong because the moment it touched my tongue my stomach turned more.  I handed the glass back to Betty.

“Tell mom it makes me want to puke.”

She sighed at me like she was annoyed and left my room.

I lay in my bed half-conscious trying to make sense of my dream.  I wondered why I hadn’t remembered waking up and all the things mom and my surroundings indicated had happened since last night.  I couldn’t come up with a suitable answer for my curiosity.

I rolled over on my bed and felt something crumple in my sheet.  I pulled at the cloth to see what was under it and pulled out a paper.  Looking at it I realized it wasn’t a paper, it was the photo I was searching for.  I put it under my pillow wondering how it got inside my sheets and fell back asleep.

I found myself in my back yard – the grass covered with daisies that stood over my head.  I looked up at the sky and noticed the window at the top of my house.  Sarah was in it watching out over the yard and neighbourhood.  A snake slithered past me just as I went to take a step.  I looked back up to the window and Sarah was gone. 

I walked through the path touching and smelling the flowers with each step.  As I neared the house it looked strange to me.  The paint was peeling off all around it.  The patio’s stone pavers were broken in pieces and weeds were bursting through all the cracks.   I stepped down to the door of the basement and tried to open it.  As I pushed  it fell from its hinges into the basement.  

A large dog on a thick heavy chain jumped up and started to bark at me.  Its teeth were dripping with saliva and his breath smelled horrible.  I backed out of the doorway and fell against the stairs.  The dog’s chain was just long enough to reach the door and I had fallen just far enough to be out of his reach.  I backed up the stairs on my bottom and found my footing again. 

I heard a scream coming from the inside of the house.  I ran to the steps of the deck and started climbing them.  I could see through the wood that something was moving underneath the deck.  I hurried faster and pulled open the screen door at the top of the stairs.  Another scream called out from the upstairs level.  I bolted through the porch and into the kitchen.  A loud thump upstairs made me jump and I ran to the stairs in the bathroom.  The door was locked.  I fumbled with the sliding latch trying to open it but it stuck firmly in its place.   I heard another wail coming from the upper level and remembered the secret doorway through the basement.  I hurried to the door of the basement and heard the latch on the door to the upper level move.  I looked back as the door creaked open on its own.

I ran back to the stairwell hearing another scream from above.  I couldn’t make out what was being screamed, or even who it was that was screaming.

I ran up the stairs so fast I tripped up half of them twisting my ankle.  The pain didn’t stop me from reaching my destination.  My heart was beating and adrenaline pumping me faster and faster.  I almost missed Sarah in the attic room.  I paused to see if it was her, but the screaming that started again confirmed it was not.  I ran down the hallway towards my room and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw in my peripheral vision Sarah’s mom holding someone’s long black hair up while the girl dangled from it at least 6 inches off the floor.  She turned and looked at me, her green eyes almost glowing; she had a wooden rod in her hand beating the poor girl.

“Hey!”  I shouted at her as she raised her hand to strike the girl again.  Then I saw who it was.  She had my sister Betty in her hands.  I didn’t think about why Betty was in my dream, all I could do was run at the lady with all of my strength.  Just as I came close to her, she turned into smoke and Betty disappeared.  I fell into the wall when she disappeared.

I heard a cry come from the attic room.  This time the sound was not a screaming like before, but a sad wail.  I picked myself up and fled the room to investigate the attic.  When I got close enough to the door I could almost touch it - it swung shut so hard the slam shook the house.  I could hear a maniacal scream followed by a thud, and then another and another.  The crying stopped, but the thudding continued.  At least ten thuds followed, the maniacal screaming consisted with each blow. 

Then suddenly the door opened.  Terrified I peered through the crack to see what was going on but no one was there.  In fact, it didn’t look like the house of old any longer.  It had our boxes, the axe against the wall, and the strange floorboards that were new compared to the older flooring. 

I walked through the rest of my home and found it was exactly as it had been the day before; our furniture, our kitchen, our food in the pantry.  The bathroom was the one we used. 

“Sam,” I heard my father calling me from the basement and went to see what he wanted.

 “Samantha.”  He called me again.  I descended the basement stairwell and looked for him.  “Sam,” he called again.  I couldn’t see him anywhere.

I opened my eyes and found that I was still in my bed, my father sitting next to me in my chair.  It looked like my desk had been moved against the crawl space door.  My vision was blurry.  I rubbed my eyes.

“There you are.”  Dad seemed like he actually cared.  “How are you feeling?”

I sat up in my bed.

“Okay, I guess.” 

“Mom says you’ve been feverish and sick all day.”  He felt my forehead. “You seem to be doing better now though.  What was all the tossing and turning for, you having a nightmare?”

“yeah.” I nodded.

“You want to talk about it?”  He asked me gently. 

“Not right now.”

I adjusted myself in my bed and felt the photo I had under my pillow.  I pulled it out and handed it to him.

“This is the picture I found.”

He looked at it and furrowed his brow.  He turned it over and read out loud “Fowler, September 1904.  Hmm.”  He handed the picture back to me.  “That is a very interesting find Sam.”

“I think it’s the people who built the house.  Gus said that was their name and described them.”

“Well, don’t worry too much about it.  Whoever they were doesn’t really matter now.  This is our home and although it may be interesting to learn about the history of our home, I don’t really think it would be productive.  Why don’t you worry about resting up, I still have a lot of work I need your help on.”  He seemed like he was trying to be nice about a subject that irritated him.

“Alright.” I wished that he was willing to listen to me about this. 

He got up and left the room pausing at the door.  “I’ll let your mother know you are awake and can try some food.”  Then he turned and walked down the hall.  I found it strange that the creaking floorboards weren’t sounding off for him like they did everyone else in the family, even the people in my dreams.

Mom showed up with a bowl of chicken broth and some crackers on a tray.  I was looking at the photo of the Fowlers trying to shake off the horrible images and things that happened in my dream.

“Here you go Sam.”  She placed the tray on my lap and sat in the chair.  “It’s good to see this is a minor illness.  I wonder what got you feeling so bad.  No one else is showing symptoms.”  She looked at the photo in my hands and held her hand out.  “Could I take a look?”

I handed her the picture.  She studied it closely - her eyebrows raised a little. 

“Where did you find this?”  She asked me.

“In the box with the quilts and the other picture.” I pointed at the crayon drawing on my wall.

“Wow.  I didn’t realize you had something like this.  Maybe we can show it to Gus and see what he says.”

“Thanks mom, that’s a good idea.”  I smiled at her.

“Okay, now eat some soup, it will help you get back on your feet.”

I picked up the spoon and started swallowing the broth down a little at a time. 

“Slowly.”  She advised me.

I nibbled at a cracker and ate my soup slowly while my mom visited with me.  She told me what they were doing for the day and how much she missed my help around the house.  I was feeling better enough that when I was finished with my soup I wanted to read for a while.  Mom handed me the book I requested and told me that she’d check on me later.

The story I was reading was about a girl with dark hair and a Siamese cat that solved mysteries.  It was very exciting, and I read half the book before I noticed my closet door had creaked open on its own.  I looked up from my book and the door shut itself.  I put the book down and opened the closet door.  I remembered my early dream and felt around on the panel of the wall for the secret opening.  I couldn’t find where it might have been, but it had gotten so dark I decided I’d try with a flashlight.  Before I could find the light my mom had come back up to check on me. 

“What are you doing?”  She asked me as I was looking through my drawers.

“I’m trying to find my flashlight.”

“Well, let’s leave that for tomorrow.  It’s time for you to get back in bed.” 

I got back in my bed and she took my temperature.

“Yes, you do look like you are feeling a lot better.”  She handed me a glass of watered down apple juice.  “Drink this.”

I sipped the drink and gave her back the glass.

“Go brush your teeth and get to bed.  Have a good night.  Love you.”  She told me.

I groaned a little and did as she asked.  Getting back in my bed I hoped I didn’t dream about the house for the rest of the night.  

Three

I was very tired the next day at breakfast.  My sisters whispering to each other would have normally piqued my interest, but this time I just ignored them.  I wanted to go back to bed before I had even reached the table.  My mother was busy fixing my father some eggs and hadn’t noticed Betty and Deanna being silly at the table.  Mom would usually reprimand that kind of behaviour.  Today she seemed hurried in her activity and the eyes in the back of her head were looking elsewhere.

“Samantha!”  my father said so loudly I jumped, and then realized why he was shouting at me.  My elbow sat in the butter dish pushing the contents out around the edges and spilling in a sloppy mess on the table. 

“Sorry.”  I got up, went to the bathroom, and washed my elbow.  The water made a whistling noise when I turned the knobs on.  Then a breeze coming from the open stairwell doorway brushed past me and the whistling stopped.  Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw something moving.  I turned to see what it was and it disappeared from my vision. 

“Get in here and eat your breakfast!” my father demanded as I stood in the doorway of the stairwell.  He could see me from the table clearly.  “and shut that water off!  You are wasting my money!”

I shut off the water and sat down at my placing.  Mom said a prayer to bless the food and everyone started eating.  I was sitting next to my father and could see the bathroom through the open doorway.  I realized there was a window I had missed when we first walked through the house because it was hiding behind the stairwell doorway.  It looked to me like there was a shadow between the open door and the window, as if a person was hiding there watching us eat breakfast. 

“Close your mouth dear and eat please.”  Mom said to me politely.  “There is still a good deal of cleaning and you need your energy.”

I shut my gaping mouth and then took a bite of my cereal.  It was getting soggy from my wasting time.  I knew I should eat it quickly so it didn’t get any worse, but I couldn’t help wondering what was near the door.  I kept staring in that direction and chewing slowly on my food.  Dad must have been annoyed by it as well because he got up and shut the bathroom door.  I still wondered about the shadow but finished my meal in silence as quickly as I could without being rude.  My sisters were nudging each other and smiling as if they had some kind of secret.

It was Deanna’s job to do the dishes today so as soon as I was finished eating, mom excused me to a short time of freedom. 

I went to the bathroom and looked behind the stairwell door; nothing was there.  I slowly started ascending the stairwell on my way to my room and I felt a chill run through me.  I looked up above me and the curtains were blowing out as they had previously.  It looked like a figure standing at the window.  At the third from the top step they fell, just as they had before.  This time, to my surprise the window was closed.  I started to turn back to tell my mom about this and I heard the floor creak in the attic room behind me.  I turned back to see the attic door open.  It was not opened a moment ago!  I peered into the doorway of the attic and momentarily was blinded.  A reflection of light from the window was shining on the handle of the axe I had tripped over previously.  I went over to it and picked the axe up. 

“Dad could use this for the wood out back,” I thought to myself. “Of course, he might make me chop it if I bring it to him.”  I decided I would not take the chance and placed the axe against the wall of the attic and left the room.  As I walked through the doorway, the door shut behind me by itself.  My first impulse was to run down the stairs and tell my mom about it; instead, I went to my room and sat down on my bed.  

I was thinking about the dream I had the night before, the dress my sister had found, the curtain blowing without a window opened.  These all seemed like clues to me, and I was fond of mysteries.  It was exciting to think our house might be haunted.  I had always wanted to meet a ghost.  Then I noticed the box in my room marked “Sarah”.  I hadn’t put it back away yet.  I decided to open it and go through it more thoroughly. 

I pulled out 3 patchwork quilts, one that had pink and blue flowered patches that alternated with white patches, another that was green and gold with little flowers embroidered into the patches, and the last one had Holly Hobbie patches that matched my wallpaper. 

At the bottom of the box I joyously found a picture that had been drawn of our new house.  It had a little girl with blond hair in pig-tails pale blue eyes and the pale blue dress that looked like the one my sister Betty had found, a lady with auburn swept back hair in a dark green dress with green eyes, and a man with brown hair in a brown suit with a brown bow tie.  It was very detailed for a crayon drawing.  I liked the picture right off and decided to hang it on my wall.  Then I found another picture, this one was a black and white photo of the same looking people in the drawing.  On the back, it said the name “Fowler” and the date “Sept. 1904”

Just as I was setting the picture on my desk a gust of wind blew my door shut.  My window was open in my room and the tree was blowing in the wind outside, so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but I fell back against the frame of my bed I jumped so hard from it.  My back ached from the sharp pain shooting up my body.  The stinging was incredible.  I felt a trickle drip down my backside and limped off to find my mother.

“What did you do to yourself!”  Mom exclaimed more than questioned me.  “You’ve got blood everywhere!”  She hurried me into the bathroom where she washed my back with some antiseptic.  She blew on it when I winced from the sting. 

“This is too big for a Band-Aid.  Just be careful and don’t pick at it.”  She hugged me.  “Now how did it happen?”

“I just lost my balance and fell against my bed.  I don’t know how it could have cut me.”  I was wondering myself why my clumsiness had suddenly amplified. 

“You worry me with how you are constantly getting hurt.  You need to be more careful.”  If she hadn’t said it so lovingly I would have felt chastised.  “Now go find your shoes and tell your sisters we are invited to a neighbor’s for tea.” 
Mom didn’t really drink tea so I assumed she just wanted to meet the people around us.  Apparently, they wanted to meet us too. 

“Be sure to use your manners, don’t take anything that isn’t offered, and say please and thank you.”  Mom always reminded us the same things whenever we went anywhere.  I figured by now she would realize we knew how to behave, but I guess she wanted to make a good impression.

We walked out the front door and too the brick sidewalk and headed towards the corner or Dorkus and 15^th Street.  We turned around the corner and walked down the hill past two houses before we stopped. 

“This is it. Remember what I told you.”  Mom reminded us again. 

The house was smaller than ours was.  It was only a single level.  It’s deep blue exterior and white trim looked like a dollhouse I had seen in a magazine.  The front yard had a hill of grass with a curving path that lead from the sidewalk to the large covered cement porch.

The man who answered the door was a tall heavyset man with dark brown skin, brown eyes and curly grey black hair.  He laughed when he saw us and opened the screen.

“My wife must have forgotten you were coming.  She has stepped out for a while, but you’re welcome to join me for my tea.”  His voice was deep and melodic.  He pushed the screen wider. 

“What lovely children you have Mrs. Cooper.”  He grinned at me as I walked past him into the living room.  The room had a small round table with two chairs on the far side of it with a doily style tablecloth and dishes set out for a formal tea.  I thought it was very pretty.  The sofa and chairs in the room all were in a Queen Anne style with doilies decorating them.  They had a fireplace against the back wall near the tea table with a mantle full of pictures.  Mom nodded in our direction and we sat on the floor near the sofa.

“Ha ha ha ha ha.. You can sit on the sofa.”  He reached his hand to me laughing, I took it and shook it as politely as I knew how.  “My name is Gustaphe Richardson, but you can call me Gus.”  My sisters sat next to me and mom took a chair. 

Gus poured some tea and set it on the coffee table for my mother, then he turned to my sisters and I, “Do you like sugar cookies?” His eyes gleamed and sparkled with life.  “Sure you do.”  He set a cornflower blue china plate of cookies in front of us and gave us each a glass of milk.  “Go on now, help yourself.”  He gave us another chuckle and smiled broadly.  His teeth were so white and straight.  He didn’t seem to be as old as his greying hair suggested.

My sisters took a cookie each in turn and then I picked one up and bit into it.  I was pleased to find they were soft and sweeter than I expected.  My grandmother made sugar cookies that were crunchy for her tea and I didn’t like them much.

“Thank you, Gus.”  Mom told him as she sipped her tea. 

“You’re welcome.” Gus replied.  “I am so glad that you came to visit.  Molly will be sorry she missed you.  It must’ve slipped her mind she’d invited you.  She’s a little forgetful these days.”  He chuckled again.  “She says you have moved into the old Fowler house.” He continued; my ears perked up.

“I watched that house get built.”  He told us. “I was a boy then, of course.” Mom smiled at him as he told his story. 

“I remember there was a nice couple that moved in, they had a little girl.  She was about my age then.  Let me think.  I was about 8 or 9.  I lived with my grandma as my parents died of influenza.  She kept me busy working in the garden all day so I watched them build the house while I worked.  It was the biggest house on the block at the time, it’s land was right next to Grandma’s back then.  The other homes were built later after the Great Depression.  They were a strange family.  That woman was always hollerin and fussin about something or other.  I was afraid of her.  The girl wasn’t allowed out without her mother, she was kept indoors all day.  Often times I saw her in the upstairs window watching out.  Occasionally I swore I heard her crying there.  I never knew for sure.  She didn’t look to happy at that window.  I just kept away.  Too bad what happened to them.”

The front door opened suddenly and I jumped.  My milk spilled all over the coffee table. 

“Oh, no!” I cried out. 

Mom glared at me, and used her napkin to try to clean up the spill. 

“No worries,” Gus smiled at me and got a towel for me. 

“Oh my!  I completely forgot.  I am so sorry Mrs. Cooper.”  Molly Richardson put the bags she was carrying down on a chair and shook my mother’s hand. 

I cleaned up the mess I had made.  I felt so embarrassed.

“It’s quite alright Mrs. Richardson.  Your husband has been telling us about when our home was built.”

Molly gave her husband an angry look.  “Don’t you be fillin their heads with your stories, Gus.”  She looked back at my mother.  “I hope he isn’t frightening you and your girls.  He gets a little carried away at times.  Don’t pay him any mind about that, his memory isn’t all that good.”

My mother smiled at her.  “It’s alright, we are interested in hearing about it.  He isn’t bothering the girls.  He has been quite the gentleman.”  Mom looked around. “I think I may have your chair Mrs. Richardson.”

“Now, now dear, you sit and be comfortable.  I am just fine over here. There are several other children in the neighborhood.  Have you gotten the girls registered for school yet?”  Mrs. Richardson poured herself a cup of tea as Gus excused himself from the room.  She sat in the chair Gus had been occupying.

“No, not just yet.  We are at the end of unpacking.  I thought I would do that at the end of next week.  I understand school doesn’t start until September here.”  Mom answered her.

“Yes that’s right.  I remember when my children were getting ready for school.  They are all grown now.”  The delicate older lady sat reminiscing about her past for a moment.  She had a smile on her lips and a dreamy look in her eyes.  Her hair was tucked back into a bun and she wore a nice green silk dress with lace on the collar and cuffs of her sleeves.  She had matching low heeled shoes with silver buckles on the toes.

Mom sipped the end of her tea and set the cup down.  “Would you like another cup?” Mrs. Richardson asked her.

“No thank you.”  Mom answered her.  “How has your day been going?”

“Fine dear, I went shopping.  I thought it was tomorrow you were coming so I wanted to get some cookies for the girls.”

My sisters and I giggled a little.  Mom looked at us with raised eyebrows.

“Thank you that is very kind.” She said.  “We should be going now, though.  Perhaps we can do this again soon.  I would love for you to come over and visit us.  How does next Tuesday sound?”

“Oh that would be very nice, thank you Mrs. Cooper.  Next Tuesday would be perfect, and please, call me Molly.”

“Yes of course, and you can call me Gina.  I’ll see you next Tuesday then.  Thank you so much Molly.  We’ll see you soon.” Mom looked at us.  “Girls?”  We got up and followed our mother out the door.

“Oh, wait a moment!” Molly called after us.  She reached into one of her bags and pulled out the same cookies we had been eating.   “This is for your girls.  Please let me know if you need any help with anything.”  She handed mom the box of cookies and shut the screen door after us.  Mom thanked her again and led us down the porch stairs. 

As we walked through the gate of our yard I looked up to my closed bedroom window on the second story of the house.  I thought I saw someone in the window, but I couldn’t make out the face of the person, it just looked like a shape.  As we entered the living room Dad looked up from a paper sitting on the sofa.

“Oh, I’m glad you are back.  I got home early so we can get started on the basement.”

“First these girls need something other than cookies in their bellies.  I’m making lunch.”  Mom told him.

Dad nodded and went back to reading his paper.  Deanna climbed up next to him and snuggled against his arm.

Betty announced she was going upstairs to play. I followed my mom into the kitchen.

“Can I help?” I asked her.

“Sure honey, you can set the table.”

I didn’t really want to go up to my room just yet.  I hadn’t closed the window before we left and Gus’ story made me wonder what was really in our home.

After lunch dad had me cleaning out the basement with him.  He had Deanna and Betty helping this time too.  He gave me the broom, Deanna a garbage sack and Betty the dustpan.  Dad led us to the room he wanted us to sweep up.  It was a strange room with a little door in the upper part of the wall.

“Is that a crawl space too?”  I pointed at the door.

“No Sam, that’s a coal shaft.  In the old days, they would shovel the coal down through there and it would be stored here until they needed it to heat the house.”  He pointed to the other side of the room that had a dividing wall in it.  “We are going to clean this out and use it for the wood we chop.”

I swallowed hard.  I had a bad feeling that the “we” he was talking about was actually me.

It took us a little over an hour to clean the coal room up to dad’s liking.  We were covered with soot from head to toe.  Mom drew us a bath to share.  She said it would save on water and keep the rest of the house from getting dirty.

After I was cleaned up and dressed again I went to the window at the top of the stairs.  I had forgotten for the afternoon about the story Gus had started to tell us.  I looked out at our yard and saw Gus in his through the chain link fences of the neighbors.  He was working on his garden in the fading evening light.  He looked up at me and waved.  I waved back and smiled at him.  I was about to open the window and holler at him something when mom called us to dinner. I thought I heard the floor creaking behind me, without looking I ran down stairs to eat.

At dinner I started to tell my father about what Gus had told us.

“Rubbish!”  He said loudly.  “The old man is just pulling your leg, he hasn’t been around here that long.”

“His wife made it sound like he was telling a story too.” Mom added in.

“But dad, I found a picture of them!”  I told him.

“humph.” Dad grunted.  No one said anything else.

After dinner I went to my room to get the picture to show my dad.  It wasn’t on my desk where I had put it.  I got down on the floor and looked under my chair for it.

“Whatcha doin?” 

I hit my head on the desk backing out.

“Ouch!”

My sister giggled behind me.  I rubbed my head and looked up at her.

“Did you take my picture?”

“Nope.”

“Get out of my room!” I said to her harshly.  I wondered what happened to the photo I found of the Fowlers. 

It was a hot night so I reopened my windows.  Every now and again a breeze would blow into my room.  I sat in front of the windows looking for other kids in the neighborhood.

At bedtime mom just said goodnight and turned off the light.  I was a little slow to fall asleep thinking about the noises and shadows that filled the house; the doors that opened and shut all the time around me.  It was a cross between fear and excitement that kept my heart beating fast and my mind alive with wonder.  I finally dozed off and slept through the night without any dreams I remembered or mom waking me.

Two

“Are you ok?”  Mom asked me.  I looked at her bewildered.  “Who is crying?”  She continued questioning me. 

I shrugged my shoulders and turned away from her.  “I don’t know what you are talking about, mom.” 

“I heard someone crying, I thought it was you.”  She told me.

“I didn’t hear anything.  Leave me alone, I’m sleeping.  You’re hearing things.”  I pulled the pillow over my head.

The next morning, after eating our breakfast cereal, mom sent us girls up to our rooms to get them finished.  The night before we had gotten our beds and dressers set up so we only had, unpacking the boxes and putting everything away left for us.   While my parents were putting our beds together, we found another little door, just like the one in the hallway, in my room.  When we opened it, the darkness was too frightening to explore.  I found the flashlight in one of the boxes for my room and decided to check it out today. 

The light pooled into the darkness as I peered into the small space.  It seemed to me almost a cave to explore and the idea thrilled me to the bone.  I crept inside wondering what I would find.  The light was like a narrow tunnel I was following.  I crawled forward through the tiny, musty smelling space.  Something creaked behind me and the door shut hard.  Without the small flashlight, I would have been in complete darkness, but this did not deter me from my plans.  I heard someone breathing and turned to see if one of my sisters was following me.  Nothing was there but a cardboard box at the end of the space on the other side of the closed door.   My heart was pounding in my chest so loud I thought if someone was in the next room they would have heard its loud rhythm, still I pressed on with my curiosity leading the way.  I turned back in the original direction, heading alongside the hallway towards the end of the space that led out near the stairwell.  When I got to the end of my imaginary cave and found the other door I tried to push it open, it was stuck.  Something brushed against me and rustled down the floor towards the end near my room.  I shone the light in its direction and saw nothing there, but the door at the end of my room was cracked open allowing a sliver of light into the dark.  I pushed hard on the little door in front of me and fell into the hallway near the stairwell. 

As I looked up, I saw the door above the stairs shut suddenly as if someone had just gone into the room.  We had not been in that room yet that I knew of, the Realtor told my parents it was just an attic.  I felt strangely drawn to the door and decided my exploration should continue there.  The summer heat seemed to make all the doors swell and stick, pulling on the attic door hard it came open finally with a good deal of effort.  I almost fell down the stairs but held tight to the old brass handle and stumbled into the room trying to catch my balance. 

As I entered the room, cobwebs tickled my face.  I brushed them away with my hand looking for the makers of them.  No spiders to be seen, at least at that moment.  The ceiling and walls of the room were unfinished exposures of the framing.  The ceiling was a low slant all the way to the floor on the far end of the room.  There was a heating vent that when opened you could see into my sisters room.  The wooden floor looked very old except for a patch of new pieces of wood the previous owner must have replaced for whatever reason.  Without any window the only light in the room was from the open door that was slowly creaking as if it were about to shut in on me.  I found a string to pull on the light and pulled it just as the door closed itself.  I didn’t take any notice of that because I was paying attention to the boxes in the corner.  The writing on them didn’t look like my parents, and they were covered with dust.  I figured they must have been left behind by mistake.  Curious as always, I dusted the boxes off and opened the one on top.  Inside there was a beautiful white lace fabric that I imagined was a wedding veil.  I pulled it on my head and played in it for a moment.  Then I thought I heard someone calling me and turned to answer, as I turned I tripped over something I hadn’t seen before.  I fell to the floor and scraped up my knees.  After sulking over the sting for a moment I pulled myself up and realized it was an axe I had tripped over. 

“What a strange place to put this.. “ I thought out loud. 

The door suddenly opened hard and I jumped so fast I nearly fell again.  It was only my mother.

“I was calling and calling for you!  What are you doing?”  She seemed a little cross which wasn’t her nature.

“Sorry, I was exploring and I tripped.”  I pulled at the lace hanging out of the box.  “Look what I found.”

She pulled the entire piece of fabric out of the box and said “What a lovely curtain.  It would look so nice at the window.”  She pointed to the window above the stairs.  “I’ll hang it later when your father is done with the step-stool.”  Then looking at my scraped up knees she told me “Go wash up those wounds and you can find the Band-Aids in the bathroom cupboard.  When you are done with that your father would like your help with something. He is in the basement.”

I dreaded the idea of going to the basement to help him.  My dad wasn’t a very patient man, and he usually had some very hard labor in mind for me since I was the oldest child.  I tried to do my best to please him, but typically my chore time spent with him was when I disappointed him the most.   He spent most of the time yelling loudly about how I was doing what he wanted wrong and I would often be slapped for my mistakes.   Still I hoped I would find a way to get his approval and tried to keep a positive thought as I hurried with the Band-Aids and stepped down the seemingly unfinished stairwell to the basement.  It only had the steps on the frame of it so someone could grab your ankles as you were descending from beneath the staircase.  That is exactly what I imagined with every step closer to my father. 

“There you are.” He said when I got to where he was at the workbench.  “I want you to do a job for me.” He set down the motor he was working on and motioned with his finger that I follow him.  He opened the basement door that led out to the patio under our deck in the back yard.  Then he pointed at a large wood pile that sat under the deck.  “I want you to move these logs over to that end of the yard for chopping.  Report back to me when you are done, I have more things for you to do, and be quick about it!” 

My eyes grew big looking at the pile.  I wondered why he thought I was capable of doing such a large task considering the wood pile was at least twice my height.  I thought about objecting to him about the condition but reconsidered when I looked back at his expectant face.  I swallowed hard and climbed up to where I could reach the top of the wood.  Dragged a log down, and carried it over to the corner he had indicated, set it down and went to retrieve another. 

It took me two hours to even make a dent in the pile and when he came out to see what I was doing the look on his face made it clear to me that I was not pleasing him with my work.  To my surprise he didn’t say a word, he just picked up a log and started to help.  Mom was calling for lunch before we were done, but we had gotten a large portion of the pile moved.  Dad told her that we would finish the job before we came in.  I groaned inside knowing that if I tried to complain about how hungry I was it would only bring a punishment for me and I wanted to eat, not be sent to my room.  I fought back the hunger pains while we spent another hour finishing the project.

Luckily mom had wrapped my sandwich so it wasn’t dry when I got to eat. 

“You can have the afternoon off.  You did good.”  Dad told me as he swallowed most of his sandwich whole.  Then he turned to my mom who was working on unpacking some boxes in the kitchen.  “I have to get some tools before I can repair the motor completely.  I’ll see you later tonight.”  Then he left the kitchen and moments later I heard the front door shutting and the car starting up. 

I was glad for the praise, but even more pleased with the release of my afternoon.  I wanted to see what else the attic and crawl space had to offer.  I remembered the box I had spied in the crawl space and ran upstairs as soon as I was finished eating.  I grabbed my flashlight out of the attic where I had left it and realized mom had hung up the curtains.  They were so long they touched the floor.  As I passed my sisters room heading towards mine, I noticed they were playing dress-up in their room.  All of their clothes were scattered across their beds, but the strange thing was they had some old style clothing I had never seen before.  Old fashioned girl dresses that fit them well with aprons and funny little shoes made of velvet.  I stopped in the doorway wondering where they had gotten them.

“Mom said we could have them Sam.”  My youngest sister said in a snotty, selfish voice as she turned around to look at me.  “Besides, they wouldn’t fit you anyways!”  My mouth dropped open.  I hadn’t remembered until this moment what the girl in my dream was wearing, but the very same dress was on my baby sister.  The surprise of seeing it bewildered me speechless.  Normally I would have teased my sister a little for her snotty attitude, but all I could do is just stare at her, my mouth hanging open.

It took a moment for me to regain my thoughts and inquire, “Where did you find that Betty?”

She looked at me suspiciously and told me slowly, “Mom said we could have them to play with.”

“But where did you get it?”  I walked into her room with intent. 

“It was in a box.”

“Where?” I was starting to feel like shaking her for teasing me with the answer.

“It was in the attic room.  Mom said we could have it, not you!”

“I don’t want it!”  I told her sharply and hurried downstairs to find my mom.

I ran down the steps, through the bathroom, looked in the kitchen as I ran into the formal dining room to her door.  As I neared her bedroom door I heard the back door open and closed.  I ran back to the kitchen and saw her through the window of the back door leaving the house.  She had an empty box with her.  I opened the back door breathless.

“Mom, mom, I have to tell you something!”  I paused to breathe in.  “Last night I had this dream and there was a lady and a girl and they were in our house and Betty is wearing her dress!”  I spurted out all I could say and took another breathing moment. 

Mom looked at me funny.  “What?”

“I had a dream last night about a girl wearing the dress Betty has!” 

“How interesting,” mom said matter-of-factly.  “I have to take this to the garbage can, I will be back in a moment.”  

“But mom, what about the dress?”

“It is an interesting coincidence.  I’ll be right back.”  My mom went out the porch door and down the deck stairs to the yard and disappeared into the alley where our garbage can resided in the detached garage.  A few moments later she came back in and I tried to get her to talk to me about the dress.  After my repeating of my dream in more detail and explaining to her I didn’t even remember the dress until I saw it on my sister she still wasn’t very impressed.  I thought it had to mean something.

“Honey, I highly doubt that there is any connection to your dream and the old clothes we found.  There are quite a few things the old owners left behind and I am sure that your imagination is just overreacting to the new house.”  She patted me on the back before continuing.  “Why don’t you go play and put this out of your mind.”

I reluctantly went up to my room and lay down on my bed.  I was sure it was the same dress the girl wore in my dream.  I started daydreaming about who she was.  I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was my mother was shaking me awake telling me dinner was ready.

It wasn’t until after dinner I remembered that I was planning to explore the contents of the box in the crawl space, but when I went to do it I was told it was my turn to wash the dishes.  I hurried through my chore so I could see what was up there.  My sisters had found some treasures so I figured there must be something interesting in the box; maybe even another clue to the story I believed was unfolding in front of me. 

As I was climbing the stairwell I noticed the curtains that were hung today were blowing like there was someone standing in the window.  As I got to the third from the top step they fell down flat.  I didn’t think too much of it as the window was cracked open a little and went to my room. 

As I opened the door to my room the closet door shut suddenly.  It startled me and I jumped a little.  I checked my closet and nothing was there.  I thought “Maybe it was the wind.”  I found my flashlight on my desk and figured my sister put it there.  I picked it up, turned it on, and opened the little door to the crawl space in my room. 

It creaked loudly as I pulled it wide open.  The cardboard box was right inside as I had seen earlier, so I pulled the heavy container out of the crawl space to look at it.  I wiped off the dust anticipating a great find.  It was taped shut and labeled “Sarah”.  I opened the flaps to the box and felt a wave of disappointment.  It was just a bunch of old blankets.  I moaned in discontentment and sat with a thud on my floor.  I had hoped it was something more interesting like photos or letters.

“Time for bed.”  I heard my mom calling to us as she neared the top of the stairs.  She stopped in my sisters room and told them “goodnight” and tucked them into bed, then shut off their light and came into my room.  I was still sitting on the floor scowling at the box I had found.

“What are you up to?” she asked me.

“I was just investigating, but it turned out to be nothing important.”

“It’s time for lights out sweetie, climb in bed and I will tuck you in.” she told me.

“Mooom!  I’m too old for that!” I protested her babying me since I had turned ten.  That was two years ago. 

“Alright,” she sighed as if I let her down, “then get in bed on your own and have a good night.  I love you.”

“love you too” I grumbled at her.

She turned off my light as I climbed into my covers.  I settled into my pillow and stared at the direction of the box in the dark. 

I was in my room playing with some cards when the blond haired girl opened the door and sat on the bed.  It was in the same place as my bed, but it was different than mine.  My dresser and desk were gone too.  Instead of my pieces of furniture, there was a wooden chest with a rose cut into it, a small wooden bookcase with a few books, and a porcelain doll sitting in a wicker chair near the crawl space door.  The girl was crying into a pillow on the bed.

“What’s the matter?”  I asked her.

She looked up at me startled that I was there. 

“Who are you?”  She stared at me in disbelief.

“I’m Sam,” I told her, “why are you crying?”

“Sarah!” the lady with the dark auburn hair was in the doorway.  “I told you to stop your crying.  You are giving me a headache!”  The lady slapped Sarah and left the room shutting the door hard.

“Honey, are you ok?”  I looked up at my mom standing over my bed.  “I heard you crying, what’s wrong?”

“I wasn’t crying mom, I was sleeping.”  The dream was fading from me.  “Let me sleep.”

My mom pulled my blankets up to my chin and kissed my cheek.  “If you need something I am here.”  She patted my head and left my room.  I fell back to sleep quickly, but I didn’t dream of the girl and the lady the rest of the night.