Authors: Carol Weekes
“How can you not like it?” Tanya asked him. “The rooms are huge. You’ll each have oodles of living space.”
He shrugged. “It just doesn’t look like a home.”
“You’re too used to the modern bungalow,” Tanya continued. “Once you become accustomed to a house like this, you’ll never go back to the other.”
Cole just said “Cool,” and asked which bedroom could be his.
“Any one you want,” Robbie told him, “other than the master bedroom. There are six rooms on the second floor.”
Cory looked enthralled. “Does it have any hidden stairways or secret rooms?”
Robbie laughed. “I don’t think so, but you can always make-believe.”
“How old is it?”
He squinted as he recalled the realty sheet. “It’s almost 140 years old.”
“That’s old,” Cory said. “Is it haunted?”
The question made Robbie swallow hard. He hadn’t thought about his impression in the mirror for a few days, but now that feeling of initial unease rushed back at him.
“No,” he said. “Why would you think that?”
“Aren’t all old houses haunted?”
“I don’t believe this one is,” he said, “but if there’s a ghost, I’m sure it’ll be a friendly one.”
“Our house was haunted,” Tanya said. “We had all sorts of experiences there.”
“Oh, don’t get him going.” Robbie gave Tanya a look that said ‘we have to live in this place now; we don’t want him crawling into our bed every night with nightmares.’
“We’ll just call it Casper if there is one, okay?” Tanya said, good-natured.
Chris rolled his eyes and Cole guffawed. They drove on.
Moving day rolled around faster than they could keep up with their schedule.
The moving truck had backed up the long drive so that the four workers could unload through the big double doors leading into the main foyer. Robbie had Cole and Chris help Tanya while he sorted boxes to various locations, and sent Cory outside to play and explore the grounds.
“But stay within eyeshot of the house, okay? If I call you, you need to hear me,” Robbie told him.
“Can I come back inside if I get sick of it out there?”
“Of course you can. But don’t get in the way of the movers.”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“Good boy,” he said. “You can go upstairs and take a look at the bedrooms; see which one appeals to you.” This excited him. He bounded up the big wrap-around staircase two steps at a time, making Robbie’s heart leap, lest he trip and fall. He heard his running-shoed feet hit the top of the landing and grinned to himself. It was the right move, he thought. The place would give the boys room to grow.
Over the next three hours the movers, Tanya, Robbie, and the older boys got every box and item into its respective room. Finally, it was done. Robbie thanked the movers, signed the necessary paperwork, and they were on their way, leaving them in their new-old house. Both Tanya and he had the next week off to get themselves set up here. For tonight, he would concentrate on getting beds arranged with some linens, a few lamps plugged in, and a fire going in the woodstove in their living room so that they could have some heat rise to the upper floors.
Tanya busied herself in the kitchen, opening and unpacking boxes. Robbie walked over to her and hugged her. “Congratulations, Mrs. Parker. Shall we summon the staff in to prepare dinner and set the table?”
“Oh, don’t you wish,” she giggled. “I think ordering out would be a good idea for this evening. What do you think of Chinese? I crave some chow mein.”
“We can do that. The boys might want pizza.”
“Well, they can have pizza then. Where’s the wine we brought?”
He pondered. “Hmm…I think it’s still in the trunk of the car. I’ll go get that.” He kissed her and strode outside, noting how clouds had begun to push out the sun, throwing the day into a kind of subdued golden sunset. He retrieved a cloth bag containing six bottles of various wines they’d picked up, shut the trunk, and turned back to the house, his gaze perusing the various floors, examining the stones and looking for anything that might require some pointing and plaster work before the winter. When his gaze reached the attic window that jutted out from that quarter of the house, he saw the shape of an adult form, the silhouette dark against the paler backdrop of the window, watching him. The form looked male, stoop-shouldered. He stopped walking, gripping the wine bag, his mouth coming open with surprise. He brought his other hand up and over his eyebrows to cut the glare of the day. The figure stepped back from the window. He ran to the house, hearing the wine slosh, and pushed into the kitchen. Tanya stood by the pantry, stacking canned goods along a shelf. She whirled to face his commotion and saw his face as he placed the wine bag on the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
“Were you just upstairs in the attic?”
“No. I’ve been here the whole time.”
“I’ll ask the boys,” he said, turning towards the main stairwell.
“Why?” she called out. “It’s not a big deal if they go up there. It
is
a finished attic. Maybe one of them would like a bedroom up there.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. He ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, thinking about the form he’d seen at the window. It had been a man’s form and had looked bigger, taller than any of his sons with their lithe, adolescent frames.
He found Chris and Cole sitting together in the bedroom Chris had chosen. They were setting books up on a built-in bookshelf. They glanced at him as he stepped in the doorway.
He was out of breath. “Were either one of you just upstairs in the attic?”
They regarded him, puzzled.
“No,” Chris said. “We’ve been in here for the past hour, arranging stuff.”
“Where’s your brother?”
Cole shrugged. “He’s been exploring the house. He’s around. Maybe he went up there. Is something wrong?” Cole asked. He held a copy of a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories in his hand.
“No,” Robbie stammered. “Just wondering where everyone is. I’ll go find your brother. You guys want Chinese food or pizza for dinner? We’re ordering out.”
“Pizza,” they said unanimously, without hesitation.
“Thought so.” He then went through each of the other bedrooms, looking for Cory. The shape he’d seen in the attic window had not been that of a little boy. Cory had chosen the bedroom across from Tanya’s and his, and he saw that Chris and Cole had helped him set his bed up and to put his room in order. A few opened boxes revealed his toys, puzzles, games, and some clothing. But he wasn’t in there. The only room on this floor that he hadn’t checked was the guest bedroom. He hurried along the corridor, past his other two sons who were engaged in conversation again, and stepped into it. It was the only room on this floor that remained devoid of furniture. They didn’t have a guest bed, and none of the boxes had been directed here. They weren’t sure what they’d do with this room yet. Tanya had mentioned possibly turning it into a study for the boys. It contained an empty, cavernous feel, his footsteps echoing against bare walls.
“Cory? You in here?”
No answer. More flies hummed in the windows and the closet door sat propped open an inch. The bathroom with the mirror that had bothered him waited at the other end of the room, like a held breath. He didn’t realize he’d clenched his palms until he felt his fingernails dig into the skin.
“This is stupid,” he said. He strode over to the closet, a tall stained oak door and gripped its handle, hauling it open. A dim maw awaited him, its clothes bar empty other than a few abandoned metal hangers. The door’s coat hook was painted the same pale yellow as the plaster walls inside the closet. He listened, although he couldn’t have told anyone what he listened for.
“Cory?”
Something dropped in the bathroom behind him; a soft noise, like a matchstick hitting the surface of something solid. He whirled and stared at the bathroom. Its open doorway provided him a partial view of the window. The mirror waited on the opposite wall. A feeling of dread seized him, but also an inner pulling. He felt as if the mirror sensed his proximity and somehow prepared itself. It called to him, with a gentle yet persistent persuasion to come, take a look.
“Cory? I just want to know where you are.”
Silence like this felt like a hand whose cold fingers brushed the sides of his face, teasing, tickling.
He hurried into the bathroom. He’d just bought this house for his family and here he was, scared of being in this room, a room just up the corridor from where they’d all sleep, and more scared to look around the corner at a piece of looking glass. He saw the shower and tub, its plain white plastic curtain drawn back. He realized that he stood with his left profile to the mirror. He could see the shimmer of glass from the corner of his eye.
Turn and look at it.
He whirled, his eyes wide as he stared at himself.
It was just him, looking almost furious. He stepped closer and examined his eyes. They were still just his, and yet he felt mocked, as if someone hid behind something and laughed quietly at him. He stepped back from the glass. No play of light. It was just an undecorated room that looked too stark without any semblance of ‘home’ in it yet.
Cory was not here. He looked inside the cupboards beneath and beside the bathroom sink. Empty. He walked back into the corridor where he heard Chris and Cole laughing over some shared joke.
“He’s got to be upstairs,” Robbie mumbled.
“You find him yet, Dad?” Chris called out.
“No. I’ll look up in the attic, then outside.”
* * *
He stood at the mouth of the attic.
“Cory?” His voice echoed in its vastness. “Where are you, son?” A walk through each of the rooms produced nothing.
He must still be outside playing, Robbie told himself. But when it began to rain heavily, Robbie became concerned.
Tanya was just finishing up making a call to a restaurant.
“I’ve ordered an extra-large pizza for the boys,” she started, then saw his face. “What’s wrong? You’re running around like something’s upset you.”
“I haven’t seen Cory for the past couple of hours. Cole said he was exploring the house about an hour ago, but I can’t find him.”
Tanya gripped the telephone receiver. “He must be outside, or maybe exploring the basement. You know how curious he is. I’m sure he’s fine, honey. They’re going to spend days exploring this place.”
“I’d just like to know where he is,” he snapped.
“Robbie. He’s a
kid
. He’s going to go play. One of the reasons we bought this house was so that the boys could have a lot more room.”
Robbie turned and went into the basement, searching. He opened the two car garage and peered into its murk. No Cory. He hurried outside, dodging the rain and stepped into the small barn, poking inside the stall, behind leftover hay that he made a mental note to remove soon, and climbed the ladder to the loft.
“Cory!” He yelled. His voice floated away, drowned out by a rumble of thunder. Frantic, he spent the next twenty minutes searching the grounds and edges of the woods around the house. Tanya ran out with an umbrella towards him, her expression mounting in concern.
“No luck?”
“No, and that creek is filling up from this rain.” For the first time, fear crossed her features.
“You don’t think he’d try walking into town, do you?”
“I’m going to go get the boys and have them help search for him. This storm is increasing and I don’t want him outside in it.”
They burst in through the front door and he mounted the stairs towards Cole’s room where he could still hear his older boys conversing.
“Boys! You need to help Mom and I find your brother.”
At the same instant, he heard a thud come from inside the guest bedroom area and felt the hair on the back of his neck lift. He thought he heard something shuffling.
“What the hell is going on?” he said and hurried into the room. The main room was empty, but he sensed something in that damned bathroom again. He ran into it. Cory, looking dazed and sitting on the bathroom floor, stared up at him. His clothes were dusty. Robbie gaped at him.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour!”
He looked like a disoriented kid waking up from a heavy sleep, his lids heavy, his gaze unfocused. He had cobwebs in his hair and a scrape along the inside of his right forearm, freshly beaded with blood. Robbie squatted down beside him.
“Son, where have you been? And what happened to your arm?”
He seemed to look through his father. “I don’t know. I came to look in this room. I wasn’t sure if I wanted this one or the other one. I can’t remember.”
“Did you fall asleep in a closet somewhere?”
“I don’t know.”
Robbie helped him stand.
“Did you find some hiding spot in the house?” he persisted. “I won’t be angry. I just want to know where you went. I looked through these rooms. Where did you come from?”
Again, Cory just stared at him. Chris and Cole came into the room behind them.
“I don’t remember,” Cory said. “I came in here and then I just don’t remember.” Tears formed along the lids of his eyes.
“Okay, okay,” Robbie cuddled him. “Don’t cry. At least we found you. It doesn’t matter.”
“Is he all right?” Cole asked.
“Yeah,” he said quickly, although his gut told him otherwise. “Did you see him come into this room?”
“No,” Chris said. “We’ve been in our room the whole time and he never walked past us.”
“Well, he had to have done it because he’s here, right? And he wasn’t in here when I searched before.”
Tanya reached the top of the stairs now. “Did you find him?”
“Yes,” he said above the boys’ heads. “He’s here. He’s scraped his arm somehow, and he seems out of it as if he fell asleep somewhere.”
Tanya looked at Cory.
“Honey, where were you? You scared Dad and I. We know you want to explore, but Mom would really like it if you keep tabs with us, okay? Cory?”
He looked past her, at the mirror in the guest bathroom. Robbie saw his reflection and how his eyes looked like deep, dazed orbs. He shivered powerfully. Had he seen something in that glass too? What the hell was it with this mirror? Robbie wanted to ask, but didn’t want to upset Cory any further than he already was. He made a note to wait until the right moment.