TRICK OR TREAT
by
PHOENIX
Chapter 1
The Chapters
Trick
or Treat – Chapter 1
CONSUME THAT WHICH IS CLOSEST
DEVOUR THAT WHICH YOU LOVE
RESURRECT THAT WHICH CAN DESTROY
AND BE MY ANGEL.
The cold October rain hammered the front windows on the old farmhouse as the wind savagely whistled around its corners and shook the doors as if trying to get in. Inside, a warm fire and the smell of pumpkin pie tempted the young man as his friend’s mother tried to persuade him not to drive home.
“Frank, it’s a horrible night! Why don’t you and Joe stay here? I’ll just call your folks and let them know where you are,” Mrs. Morton suggested, as she pulled her sweater tightly around her thin frame as a cold draft chilled her to the bone.
17-year-old Frank Hardy shook his head reluctantly, “Normally it would be a great idea, but Dad’s away on a case and Mom is home by herself.”
“Ah,” Mrs. Morton said as she realized the boy did not want his mother home alone in this storm, “in that case let me give you some pumpkin pie to take with you.”
Her
own 17-year-old son looked startled by the offer,
and his mother quickly reassured him before he could protest,
“Don’t worry,
Mrs. Hardy was herself an accomplished baker but Mrs. Morton had a secret ingredient that she added to her pies that made them something special. It was a running joke between the two women, as every year Laura was determined to figure out what that was. And then Mrs. Morton continued, “Can you please go and tell Joe that his brother is ready to leave?”
Chet was off in a second with a mischievous grin on his face which Frank missed as he waited for Mrs. Morton to give him the pie.
* * *
15-year-old Iola Morton was leaning over her brother’s bed, hanging off every word that the blond-haired teen was saying. She had had a crush on him since she was four!
As she listened to the handsome youth talking about the details of his father, famous private investigator Fenton Hardy’s last case, she vividly remembered the first time she had seen Joe.
She had been four, and Joe had come with his father to pick Frank up at their house. Frank Hardy and Chet Morton had become fast friends in kindergarten after Frank had scared off a bully who was picking on the chubbier child. But it wasn’t until the boys were in first grade that they had an out-of-school play date.
“Iola, tell your brother’s friend, Frank, that his father is here to pick him up!” Mrs. Morton asked her pretty little dark haired daughter as she saw a blue sedan pulling up in front of the house. The child had been playing with some play dough on the kitchen table and quickly scurried up the stairs to the second floor where the boys were deeply engrossed in playing with their dinky cars.
“Frank, your Dad’s here”, she announced loudly.
“Get out of my room!” Chet said as she stood in the doorway.
“I’m not in your room – I’m in the doorway!” she shot back, insolently, as she pretended that she was going to put her foot inside the room. Before he could respond his mother’s voice called up the stairs after them, “Iola! Chet! We have guests – remember our ‘guest voices’” she sang out to quell the shouting before it started, “And boys please clean up any mess!”
The dark haired young boy smiled up at the girl with warm brown eyes, “Thank you” he said politely and started to help Chet put the toys away as Iola turned on her heels to go back downstairs. She could hear a man’s voice in the kitchen and was very curious to meet Frank’s father.
Her mother was talking to a very tall man with the same dark brown hair and eyes as Frank. But then her attention was diverted from the man as she saw a child standing next to him with his small hand almost completely engulfed in his father’s hand.
“Iola,“ her mother said as she saw her daughter looking at the other child, “this is Mr. Hardy, Frank’s father. And this is Joe, Frank’s little brother – he’s 5.”
Iola felt her heart flutter as Joe turned his vibrant blue eyes on her and smiled boldly, “’Lo Iola” he said and then in a flurry of activity Chet and Frank burst down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Frank!” She saw Joe’s face light up as he saw his big brother and Frank grinned back as he put on his coat and turned to follow his father out the door.
Iola was oblivious to what was being said as the Hardys left the house. Her eyes were locked on the figure of Joe Hardy, and she continued watching the car until it was no longer in sight, and then she turned her love-struck doe eyes towards her mother. “Someday I’m going to marry Joe”.
After having made her announcement, the pixie-featured child turned back to her play dough and missed the sad look that flickered across her mother’s face. Mrs. Morton felt a cold chill come over her, and for some reason, which wouldn’t come to her until she stood over her daughter’s grave, she knew it wouldn’t be. And the rest of her day was enshrouded in a melancholy whose cause she couldn’t place her finger on.
Chet peered in around the door of his room and smirked. He could see the love-struck look on his sister’s face as she stared at Frank’s younger brother, Joe. Now 16, Joe was a handsome young man with curly blond hair and vibrant blue eyes. An avid sports enthusiast, his almost 5’10” frame was rapidly bulking up with muscle and he would soon probably surpass his older brother – if he kept growing at his current rate. Frank still had an inch and a half on his height and about 15 pounds on him, but the bets were already being placed as to when Joe would overtake him!
Joe, enjoying the rapt attention that Iola was giving him, did not notice Chet either, until it was too late!
The cold water hit both teens as Chet’s rapid-action water Uzi, AKA Super-Soaker, sprayed a steady stream as he hollered, “My, it’s awfully hot in my room – need to cool you love birds off!” Instinctively, Joe had moved to shield Iola and got most of the spray squarely in his face and chest, becoming drenched! And then as the water gun emptied, Chet took off running. But as he heard Joe rapidly gaining on him, he realized he should have thought out a better escape plan. Joe was fast and would have caught Chet if Chet hadn’t slipped on the top of the stairs and then, to his embarrassment, slid down them on his butt before landing in a lump at the bottom.
Happy, Chet’s black Labrador retriever, came over and licked his face as Joe and Iola came down right behind him with Iola hollering at him all the way.
“Where were you when I needed backup?” He groaned as he pushed the dog away.
“
Frank, Joe and Iola couldn’t help but laugh at the stricken look on Chet’s face as he hauled his wounded butt up.
Joe helped steady him, shaking his head and quipping, “Lucky thing for you – this was nothing compared to what I was about to do to you!”
It was then that Frank noticed his brother was soaked and Iola’s sweater was wet, “What happened?” he inquired.
“Oh my goodness, you’re both wet!” Mrs. Morton exclaimed. Chet held up the water gun in explanation as his mother clucked around about how they would catch their death of colds if they didn’t get dried off, and sent Iola scrambling back upstairs to change, “And grab one of Chet’s sweaters for Joe!” she hollered after her daughter. remembering that he needed one as well.
A few minutes later, Frank and Joe climbed into their mother’s car and drove away from the house. Joe was wearing one of Chet’s knitted sweaters that hung loosely on him, and he shivered slightly as the cold seemed to go right through it.
“Chet,” he growled under his breath, as his hair was also still wet, although he had towel-dried it before leaving. Frank chuckled to himself as he remembered the spectacle of Chet sliding down the stairs and Iola yelling at him, but then became serious as he realized how bad the storm was. The windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the torrential rain that beat against the car, as the high wind made it a chore keeping the car in its lane.
Joe shivered again and turned up the heater, only to turn it down immediately as cold air blasted out of it.
“The heater’s not working again!” he complained as he tried to see out the side windows, but it was useless. It was a horrible stormy night. “Maybe we should have stayed at Chet’s,” he said as he hugged his chest to keep warm.
“Try the heater again”, Frank said beginning to worry about the condensation that was growing on the inside of the windows. Having only had his license for a year, Frank was nervous about driving in the harsh weather, and was now regretting coming over to Chet’s house earlier that day.
It was the night before Halloween, and Chet had asked the brothers to help him with the last-minute touches on the old barn that he was turning into a haunted house for the Halloween party he was hosting the next night. The storm had come out of nowhere, and within an hour it had gusted up to the fury that Frank was now trying to drive through.
Thankfully the heater came on this time, and the car immediately started to warm up. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Joe, with his arms still wrapped around himself, was starting to nod off.
Frank turned on the radio quietly to keep himself company as he decided to let his brother sleep. Joe had been getting up earlier then usual the past couple of mornings to meet Biff for some extra weight training. He was determined to impress the football coach this year.
Just then Frank saw someone standing in the middle of the road and swerved to avoid him.
“JOE!” Frank screamed in warning and his brother jolted awake in time to brace himself as the car careened over the lanes and skidded down the embankment. The boys were tossed around before the airbags deployed and the last thing that Frank remembered before passing out was the horrible crunching sound of the car hitting a tree as he thought to himself – I should have stayed home!
* * *
“Frank…Frank.” Joe coughed as he saw his brother slumped in his seatbelt. Joe had blacked out for a few seconds after the airbag had knocked the wind out of him, and he winced painfully as he unbuckled his seatbelt. His chest was aching and he knew he was going to have a painful seatbelt bruise – but at least he was alive. With his heart pounding, Joe reached over to check his brother.
Relief flooded him – Frank’s pulse was strong and steady. He was alive!
“Frank?” he said again, becoming more worried when his brother showed no signs of waking up. Outside, the wind and rain battered the car and as Joe reached over his brother to turn the ignition off, he heard the first rumble of thunder, quickly followed by a flash of lightning.
Oh great, he thought sarcastically, now all we need is some hail to top this off!
“Hang in there, big brother, “ he said to encourage Frank. “I’ll try the cell phone”. But then as he reached into his pocket he remembered tossing it onto Chet’s bed after his friend soaked him - and he had forgotten to pick it up during the ensuing commotion.
He banged his hand against the dash in frustration, “CHESTER MORTON – I OWE YOU!”
It was then that out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw a movement. Was someone outside the car? He felt the hair rise up on the back of his neck as he peered out in the murky night, but couldn’t see anything through the rain.
“Frank,” Joe whispered as he desperately wished his brother would wake up. Normally the bolder of the two, Joe was feeling very uneasy and anxious…but Frank still didn’t move. Straining his eyes against the storm, Joe saw nothing, and decided it must have been a leaf or something, and chided himself into a false bravado.
He had been asleep before the accident so he had no idea where they were, or how far it would be to the closest farm. The headlights flickered briefly, and Joe realized the car battery would not hold up for very long, as it was old and had needed to be replaced last summer. The new battery was sitting in the garage waiting for him and Frank to put it in, but there always seemed to be something else to do – and now Joe thought about how ironic that was. Because of their procrastination, the lights would not last long and the car would soon be devoured by the storm’s dark mouth.
Joe thought about turning them off to save them, but knew that it might be their only chance of being seen, so he kept them on.
“Big brother, I could really use your help,” Joe said, looking at the still form beside him as he hugged his chest, and realized they had another problem. It was a cold night and the temperature in the car was dropping fast.
I guess I could turn the ignition back on, he thought, but he had no idea how badly the engine was damaged and knew it would be too risky. He also knew he had no choice – he was going to have to go up on the road to get help.
Wishing he had a jacket, the teen reached under Frank’s seat to pull out the small emergency kit his mother kept in the car, “Sorry bro,” he muttered as he had to push past Frank’s leg. Inside he felt a little relief as he saw a clear plastic adult rain poncho folded up no larger then a deck of cards, and a flashlight.
Pulling the poncho on over his head, he turned back to his brother. “Sit tight, I’ll be right back.” Then he turned on the flashlight and opened the door. Immediately, the wind caught the door, and wrenched it from his grip. Joe lost his footing and slipped down in the mud. He dropped the flashlight, which slid under the car and went out!
“DAMN!” Joe yelled as he mashed his face against the side of the car in his struggle to try and reach the flashlight - but it was just beyond his reach, “GIVE ME A BREAK!!” Finally frustrated, he stood up again and braced himself against the elemental assault. He was glad his Aunt Gertrude hadn’t heard him curse – she would have boxed his ears for sure!
“AAAAAHHHH” the boy cried out as the wind snuck under the poncho and tried to lift if off over his head; after a brief battle the plastic was torn and offered him no protection. But, stubborn to the end, Joe refused to take it off. And then with an almost cruel sentience, the wind swooshed up under it again as the rain pelted him mercilessly! Growling in frustration, Joe slipped and crawled up the incline towards the road. He followed the debris trail that the car had made on its descent into the gully.
A few minutes later, panting, cold, wet and tired, Joe stood on the highway and looked around. He had no idea where they were except that it was somewhere between Chet’s farm and the city.
Just then he saw a pair of headlights come speeding towards him, and he started waving his arms to get it to stop as he wished he had the flashlight or a flare. He was afraid that the driver would not see him in time and would run him down. He realized he was right when he was forced to dive back into the gully a few seconds later as the pickup truck almost ran him down!
Hauling himself back to his feet – again - he reflexively bent over to wipe the mud off his jeans only to realize how futile that would be, as even Chet’s off-white sweater was now brown with mud!
Sighing in frustration, Joe knew he couldn’t give up; Frank was depending on him. But as he stood by the dark roadside with the rain and wind whipping him, he was chilled to the bone and felt very alone. He had not seen any other vehicles on the road and knew they were probably staying out of the storm.
For how long he stayed on the roadside, Joe had no idea, as his watch didn’t seem to work, but finally he decided that he should go back to check on his brother. His mother kept a blanket in the trunk, and he kicked himself for not wrapping Frank in it before leaving – his brother was probably very cold by now. As he turned to go, a movement caught his eye and he turned back to the road. Suddenly he was feeling much more then loneliness…he felt vulnerable….
“Hello?” he called out, his voice not as strong as it usually was. He wasn’t really sure he wanted anyone to answer…unless it was Frank. He pushed the poncho hood down so he could hear better, as the sound of the plastic over his head was distracting.
Wiping the rain off his face and straining his eyes, he thought he could just make out a form in the trees on the other side of the road. A child?
“Hello?” he called again, refusing to give in to the little voice that was telling him to just get back to the car. Yes, he thought, it has to be a child…it’s too small to be an adult…but what is a child doing out all by itself on such a horrendous night?
Consumed with worry for the child, Joe tried to catch up with the youngster, who moved quickly in among the trees.
“Hello…I won’t hurt you,” he called out as he slipped and slid over branches and moss, as the child managed to keep just far enough away from him so he couldn’t even tell if it was a boy or a girl. A low tree limb impeded his pursuit as it grabbed at the already battered poncho, and Joe finally gave in and ripped it off, as it was hindering him more then helping him.
“OW!”
One of the limbs was whipped back by the wind and stung his face
with a sharp scratch when it lashed back.
And then the child was gone!
Joe stood there in the dark woods realizing he may have just done the stupidest thing of his young life. He had chased a shadow into the forest, and now he had no idea where the road was!
“Frank!” he yelled out, hoping that his brother had regained consciousness and might be looking for him, but only the storm answered him. The only good thing was that he was a little more protected from the rain in the woods, but as he stopped once again to try and remember which way he came, it was unsettling, as shadows seemed to surround him… taunting him…did that one just move?
Joe felt himself beginning to panic as he whipped his head around, positive that he could hear someone or something lumbering around just out of his range of vision.
Go away…go away…was that a voice he heard? His head turned wildly. Joe was positive he could a voice carrying over the wind…Go away…go away…
Joe panicked.
* * *
Laura
Hardy was getting worried. The
boys should have been home by now! Looking
at the antique clock that ticked over the fireplace, she saw the time was
now
B-r-r-r-n-g
B-r-r-r-n-g
B-r-r-r-n-g
The phone rang three times before Mrs. Morton’s cheery voice was on the other end. <Hello?>
“Hi, Catherine,” Laura started, but once the other woman recognized her voice she cut in before Laura could say anything else.
<Oh Laura – I asked the boys to stay the night because it is too miserable to be…> and then the phone went dead, followed two seconds later by the lights!
Mrs. Hardy deftly made her way to the kitchen drawer where the flashlight and candles were kept, and within minutes the kitchen was aglow with candles that flickered and cast shadows on the cupboards and walls.
I
asked the boys to stay the night…that made perfect sense.
Of course, Chet’s mother wouldn’t have let the boys drive home
in this weather - Frank
hadn’t even had his license a full year yet!
But she made a mental note to have a word with the boys about responsibility once they did get home – they should have phoned her! And then she sighed as she sat in the dimly lighted kitchen and listened to the wind howl around the house as the rain pelted the window, and wished that they had come home. Laura didn’t really fancy being by herself in their big two-story house on normal nights…let alone when the power was out and the phone lines were down!
And then she heard a sound.
* * *
Mrs. Morton looked at the dead receiver in her hand and then realized the phone lines had gone down.
“Oh well…at least we have our own generator,” she said to the dog who was lying by the stove. She was glad the boys had gotten home, as she was sure that was why Laura had called her. And she wanted to let her friend know that she had offered them a place for the night instead of just pushing them out into the storm.
“Chet! Iola! Do you want to play Scrabble?” she called as her husband came in through the front door and wiped a hand over his soaked face.
‘This is a nasty night,” he commented to his wife, who took his wet jacket and hung it up. “I wouldn’t put a dog out in this.” Happy, the black Labrador retriever, seemed to know what he was saying and whined appreciatively as his tail beat the floor…although he didn’t get up.
Iola
was the first one in the kitchen and her face was peaked with worry.
Her mother picked up on it right
away. “Is
something wrong, sweetie?”
she asked her.
Iola shrugged thoughtfully. “I don’t think…but I just…I…”
And then Chet came into the room carrying the well-worn game, and seeing his father asked, “How’s the cow, Dad?” He was referring to one of his father’s dairy cows, who was heavy with pregnancy and due to calve anytime.
“So far so good – but I think it is going to be a long night. She’s very restless and I think we might have a new one by morning,” his father surmised as he accepted the cup of hot coffee his wife gave him, and then turned back to his daughter. “You were saying something, Iola?”
Iola paused for a moment as she wondered if she should mention what was bothering her, but then as she heard the wind and rain battering the house, she decided it was just her nerves and dismissed it. “It’s nothing – I hope this weather clears up, or else the Trick-or-Treaters are going to get wet tomorrow.”
Her family agreed with her, and as they sat down to play the board game and discussed Halloween and their impending party, Iola still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
* * *
Laura froze. Had she heard a noise upstairs? There…there is was again!
As the blood drained from her face, the woman glanced around for something to use as a weapon, and as she grabbed the large bread knife from the knife block, she heard the sound again - but this time it was on the stairs. And then she heard the phone ringing but it was not the phone in the kitchen – it was the one in the living room – what was going on?
With a racing heart she clutched the knife and began to move towards the ringing phone…b-rrr-ng…b-rrr-ng…and then it stopped! At that exact moment out of the corner of her eye she saw a small movement and whipped around… the “in-use” button on the kitchen phone was on.
Laura
Hardy felt her knees go weak as her fear devoured her as the realization
hit her…another extension in the house was in use…with a
shaking hand she picked up the phone and then screamed!
* * *
Joe ran like a madman through the forest as the limbs scratched him and tore at his clothes, “FRANK!” he screamed, as behind him he could hear something crashing in pursuit. Stumbling, he slipped down an embankment, knocking his head hard against a tree stump, and as the darkness devoured him he tried to scream as he felt hands tearing at him….
* * *
Frank
Hardy opened his eyes and looked around.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he
saw that his brother’s seat was empty. He
left you.
Undoing his seatbelt, the teen opened the door and got out of the car. You have to find him.
Frank
stood outside the car oblivious to the storm as he calmly looked around.
Find him.
A
movement caught his attention, and he turned towards it.
A small child, a girl about six or seven years old, was watching
him. As she looked at him,
her eyes filled with sadness and she started to walk away from him….Find
him.
Frank turned away from the girl and started to climb out of the gully.
* * *
The child ran. She knew where he was. She wasn’t scared… she didn’t tire… she had to get to the boy. She had to get to the boy with the angel’s eyes.
When Joe opened his eyes, he was curled up in a small ball with his hands over his head to ward off any attacks. … Hands tearing at him….The teen jolted up in fear and then relaxed as he saw the “hands” – he had fallen through a bramble bush and it was the prickles grabbing his clothes that he had felt.
“Ouch,” he said as he tried to pick the prickles off the sweater, but they seemed to have embedded themselves into its knit. It was still raining, but the wind seemed to have died down a bit, and he looked around to try and figure out where he was. His eyes had adjusted as much as they could to the darkness but he still couldn’t see very well.
“Ooohh,” he then groaned as he pulled his aching body up from the ground. Wet, tired, and cold, he slowly limped towards where he hoped the road might be, as he favored the hip that he was sure would have a horrible bruise in the morning.
And then he sneezed.…You children will catch your death of cold…he heard Mrs. Morton’s voice scolding, and wondered what she would say if she could see him now!
Joe
wandered around for a little longer before
he decided to take a break. He
opened his mouth to call out to Frank but he stopped himself as he felt
the hair rising on the back of his neck again.
Don’t make a sound…something’s out there….
Frank
saw Joe and then he saw Joe turn and run.
Catch him. You’re
faster then he is.…
Frank
started in pursuit. Joe was
fast and getting faster, but Frank could still take him and he
knew that.
* * *
Joe
ran blindly as he heard Frank coming after him.
What the hell is going on?
he wondered, but couldn’t give it much thought as he tripped and
fought to keep his balance. If
he fell, Frank would catch him….
* * *
Call his name…he will come to you - Frank opened his mouth to yell his brother’s name but all that came out was a growl.
You can’t have him - a child’s voice said.
Why
not?
Because he is mine - the child’s voice answered.
* * *
Joe knew there was a house about a mile ahead of him – he didn’t know how he knew…he just knew. Behind him, Frank seemed to be running out of steam, and Joe breathed a sigh of relief as he no longer could hear his brother running behind him. And then suddenly he heard a crashing through the trees…coming directly towards him. Frank had gotten ahead of him? Impossible!
But
there he was, running straight at Joe, and before he could even react,
Frank bowled Joe over and the two boys locked in a desperate battle.
Frank had a big advantage – he hadn’t been wandering around
the country for the past couple of hours like Joe had…this, added to
his slightly larger size, made it difficult for Joe to break free.
End
this now!
Frank
locked his arms around Joe’s chest, trapping his arms, and began
squeezing. Joe panicked –
this was the one hold that he had never been able to get out of.
What had his father said??? And
then as if he was there with him, Joe heard his father’s voice:
Relax Joe – don’t fight.
Let him think you are done and then butt his face with the back of
your head…as hard as you can.…
Joe
let his head loll forward and then before Frank realized what he was
doing, Joe brought his head back and butted his face as hard as he could.
Frank cried out in pain as he released his brother, and Joe
stumbled to his knees, but he forced himself to his feet, quickly, and
began limping away.
* * *
The child watched the dark haired boy as he watched the blond haired boy staggering away. His dark feral eyes locked onto hers – I’m hungry.
Starve - the child said as she turned and ran after the other boy.
* * *
Laura
slammed down the receiver as she had goose bumps – she had heard
someone whispering on the phone. Terrified
she decided she had no choice…she had to get out of the house….
Racing
towards the kitchen door, she saw out of the corner of her eye the door
between the kitchen and the living room start to move…ever so slowly.
Screaming, she reached for the doorknob, but then she froze as she
saw the doorknob jiggle….
Laura
had fallen asleep with her head nestled against Fenton as they sat on the
couch in the candle-lit living room.
She had finally calmed down enough to tell him what had happened,
and after a thorough check of the house, Fenton assured his distraught
wife that no one was in the house.
He
was worried, though. Obviously
someone was trying to scare Laura…or worse….Was it one of his old
enemies back for revenge? He
sighed as he bent over and stroked her soft hair.
As she slept he couldn’t help but notice how much she looked
like Joe. And that made him
think about his sons.
It didn’t make sense that they hadn’t called their mother to tell her they were staying at the Mortons’. And why did they stay? Fenton wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days but he had managed to tie everything up so he could get home in time for Halloween. Many people would have been shocked to find out that the world-renowned P.I loved answering the door on Halloween and giving out the treats. He even had a Frankenstein’s monster costume that he kept just for that occasion….
Frank
knew his mother didn’t like being home in the nighttime by herself and
Fenton found it strange that his oldest
son – the self-designated protector whenever Fenton wasn’t home –
would have left his mother at home by herself during a storm.
But
Laura said Mrs. Morton said the boys had stayed at the farm….Fenton
couldn’t get past that, but he still felt that something was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong.
As
he finally drifted to sleep around
* * *
Iola
Morton and her mother won the Scrabble game, as usual, and as Iola got
ready for bed
she could still hear her brother disputing with his mother over one of
the words that he was positive was a word…even if the dictionary said
it wasn’t.
Smiling, she looked out her rain-splattered window and saw the figure of her father walking towards the barn. She knew he was going to check on the cow, but as she turned away from the window, she thought she saw something.
Squinting her eyes for a better look, she rubbed them in disbelief. How could her father not see?
Standing beside where her father just walked was a child.
“MOM!
“ the girl screeched as she raced downstairs in her nightdress and
housecoat. Both Chet and
their mother looked up in shock as the raven-haired girl made a dash for
the front door. Chet, closest
to her, grabbed
her to keep her from going outside.
“Iola!
Are you crazy! It’s
raining outside,” he chided as she tried to pull free, and then she
turned her wide eyes to her mother.
“MOM – THERE’S A CHILD OUTSIDE!”
“What?”
said Mrs. Morton, sure she was not comprehending what Iola was
saying.
“Mom
– she’s outside in the rain…we have to get her!”
Iola pointed towards the door and her mother, frowning at her
slightly, opened the door and stepped out on the veranda.
As soon as the door opened, Happy stood up and started growling as
his hackles stood up.
“What’s
with the dog?” Chet
wondered aloud as he joined his mother and sister, who were peering
through the rain towards the barn where Iola was insisting she saw a
child.
There was no one there.
“Iola
honey, maybe you were dreaming?” her mother offered as she pushed both
her children back into the house. She
didn’t want them all getting sick.
The dog was still growling and its eyes were fixed ahead on the
door.
Iola
turned to see what Happy was looking at, and then starting shrieking.
Her father, hearing her screaming, came running in from the barn
and helped his wife usher their distraught daughter upstairs.
Happy
started to bark, and Chet shushed him.
“Bad dog!” he scolded and then grabbed
his collar to let him outdoors – maybe he needed to pee or something.
But the dog put his brakes on, started to whine, and refused to go
anywhere near the door. Chet
released him, and Happy turned tail and raced upstairs behind Iola and
her parents. When Chet
finally found the dog, he was under Chet’s bed
shivering, and it took a lot of coaxing to get the retriever to come
out.
In
her own room, Iola had calmed down enough for her mother to go downstairs
and make her a soothing cup of tea with honey.
His father had to go back to the barn, although Chet could see he
was shaken by his daughter’s seeming breakdown.
“Hey
sis,” Chet said gently as he sat down on her bed
beside her. Iola was starring
glassy-eyed towards the window, but when she heard Chet’s voice she
turned to him, and he gasped as he saw the look of fear in her
eyes.
“She
had his eyes,” she said as she leaned over for Chet to hug her, and
buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed.
* * *
Frank
knelt outside the panty door and placed his hand against its smooth wood.
He could feel the house’s hate as it pulsated through its very
walls - he’s inside.
Standing
up, Frank went back over to the table and loudly pulled out a chair and
sat down. Immediately, he saw
a small beam of light under the door for a fraction of second before it
switched off – oh yes, he was inside.
* * *
Joe
heard the sound from right outside the door and bolted awake as he
reflexively turned on the flashlight.
Immediately realizing his mistake, he turned the light off and strained his ears to hear what was going on – was it Frank?
The
little girl didn’t say anything, she just looked at Iola, and then Iola
gave a start as she heard a small voice in her head.
Although the little girl’s lips didn’t move, she knew it was
hers - pray for him.
“What?”
Iola asked quietly a bit alarmed at the statement.