Part 2
By morning, Rupert had forgotten all about the bad dream. Bright sunlight woke him from his sleep into the promise of a new day. The tantalizing smell of Mama’s pancakes had him leaping from the bed, stepping into his slippers, and racing down the stairs. Breathless but smiling, he slid to a stop at the kitchen doorway. Mama was humming to herself as she dropped eggs into a hot pan. Pops sat at the island, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper.
“Morning, Mama. Morning, Pops.”
“Good morning, little man,” Mama said, flipping pancakes onto a plate.
“There he is! Come on in here, son,” Pops said, setting the paper aside. “How you feeling this morning?”
“Hungry!” Rupert answered with a grin. “Where’d ya get that paper, Pops?”
“Can you believe they delivered it? I thought it’d be a week before they got us on the delivery schedule but there they were, bright and early this morning, standing on the porch with my paper wanting to introduce themselves.”
“They came to the house?” Rupert gasped in disbelief. “Way out here?”
Pops grinned at his son. “We’re not as far out as you think. You’ll see. We’ll take a trip into town in the next day or so and you’ll see we aren’t all that isolated.”
“Do they bring the paper to the door every day?”
“Nope. Most days, we’ll need to drive up to the road and get it. Only once a month will we see our delivery boy. He’s about your age, Rupe. Maybe you’ll be in the same class at school.”
Rupe swallowed hard. He didn’t want to talk about school, it was his least favorite topic of discussion. School was a downer. Rupert changed the subject.
“Is breakfast ready, Mama?”
“Just about,” she answered. “Why don’t you and Pops set the table for me while I finish up.”
“Okay,” Rupe said reluctantly. Usually the kids took turns with the chores. It was his older brother’s job to set the table for breakfast and clean up afterwards. His younger brother helped Mama set up for dinner, Rupert set up for supper, and the twins cleaned the table after supper. While being the only child for a few days had been fun, it also meant he did all the chores. That wasn’t fun.
After breakfast, Rupe helped clear the table before running off to brush his teeth and throw on some clothes. Mama had granted him an hour of play time before he had to help clean and set up rooms. Excited to explore on his own, he raced out the door.
Mama called after him, “Watch for snakes. And stay away from the out-buildings!”
Rupert followed the fence lines, testing the wooden posts like Pops had taught him, though he had no intention of climbing the rails. Instead, he walked along them until he found a gate, or an opening where the wood had broken or rotted away, then he went through. Along the way, he found several rusty pieces of farm equipment, including an old tractor with a disc harrow still attached. Rupert had seen one before at his Uncle’s house. Pops had explained it was used to break up the soil and level the field, chopping and tearing at the weeds as it went. Rupert had watched his uncle sharpening the edges so they cut through the hard-packed earth with ease. It was possible that the discs could still be sharp enough to cut him; Rupert tamped down on the urge to climb on the piece of equipment. Mama would tan his hide if he returned to the house with blood on him.
Eventually, he found himself walking towards the old car. It didn’t look so menacing today, now that the weeds had been tromped down from around its frame. Bullet holes riddled the frame and three of the windows were busted out. The broken spokes on the grille gave the car a kind of smile. More of a smirk really, as if the car knew something he didn’t. A strange solitude settled over the boy as he stood there. The crisp breeze combed through the vegetation, the grass and weeds bowed and swished in response. It was the only sound. At least at first.
From somewhere, seemingly everywhere, whispers found their way to Rupert’s ears. The words were indistinct as they grew louder then softer, carried along on the wind, he thought. Rupe closed his eyes to concentrate on the sound.
From the front porch, where Joshua stood sipping his fourth cup of coffee and surveying his new acreage, he could see Rupert out in the field standing stock still. He smiled at first thinking the boy was playing a game. But, as Joshua moved further along the porch, he could see that his son was closer to the old car than he should be.
When the boy held his position for several seconds, Joshua’s concern grew. Perhaps he’d found a rattlesnake. Rupe knew to hold perfectly still and wait for the snake to move away. If he were too close or the snake was slow to move away, that could explain what held Rupert spellbound. Joshua scampered down the stairs and loped across the fields towards Rupert, slowing only when he was close enough that his movements could endanger his son if the Rattler still lay coiled in the grass. Without knowing for sure where the snake was, Joshua needed to be extra cautious.
Stepping carefully to the boy’s side, he searched for a snake or any other danger. He found nothing. Yet, Rupert continued to stand still as a statue, his eyes mere slits, staring at the car as if unaware of his father’s presence.
“Rupe?” Joshua said softly, kneeling in front of the boy. Rupert gave no reaction. “Rupert!” Joshua grabbed hold of the boy’s arms and gave him a little shake. The boy’s head lolled backward, his eyes rolling up to show the whites. Fear slithered into Joshua’s belly. Abruptly, Rupe’s head snapped forward, his eyes opened in wide surprise.
“Pops?” Rupe looked at his father with dazed eyes. “Is it time to go back to the house?”
“Yes,” his father said simply, keeping a tight rein on his emotions. There was a creepy feeling along his spine, as if eyes were watching him. Joshua cast his gaze over his shoulder, searching for any sign of a person watching them. He saw only the car, its broken grille giving it a sinister looking grin.
Behind the steering wheel, a dark shadow filled the seat. Joshua frowned. There were no trees close by and the sky was cloudless, he couldn’t fathom what created the shadow. He had the uncomfortable feeling it was somehow watching him. Goosebumps broke out on his flesh.
“It’s time to go back to the house,” He said. Without looking behind him, afraid of what he might see, he scooped up his son and started off. With long, loping steps he carried Rupe back past the fence line before setting him down.
“Pops are you okay?” Rupe asked when his feet touched the ground. His father hadn’t carried him since his fifth birthday when Pops had declared Rupe too big to be carried around like a baby.
“Yes, son.” Pops grabbed Rupe’s hand. Walking quickly, he continued on to the house. Rupert had to jog to keep up.
“A-am I in trouble?”
“No, son.”
No more conversation occurred between them until the front door had closed behind them. Joshua’s hands shook as he reached for the lock; he stopped himself from throwing the bolt. It would only frighten his family if he locked it. Besides, whatever was out there wasn’t going to walk through the front door, he was sure of that.
“Rupe, go find us a fun movie or a show to watch, okay?”
Rupert eyed him cautiously. “But Pops, I thought we needed to do chores.”
Joshua swallowed down the impatience that was building beneath his fear. It took great effort to keep his tone light when he spoke again.
“There’s always time for chores. Go find something to watch while I talk with Mama, okay?”
“Sure, Pops.” The boy smiled as he skipped into the living room.
Mary wasn’t in the kitchen or the pantry.
Nervously, Joshua looked through the windows, out towards the field as if he could spy whatever it was that had spooked him. There was nothing to see but the sun shining on the withered fields and the wind gently combing through the branches of the trees. The breeze tossed the few remaining dead leaves into the air where they spun and fluttered as they made their way to the ground. The fields seemed calm, warm, and inviting. There was nothing out there. No menacing presence peeping through the windows. No unidentified something stalking through the tall weeds towards the house. All was as it should be. Joshua heaved a heavy sigh. Maybe he was making too much out of Rupert’s behavior; out of what he thought he’d seen sitting there in the car. Perhaps Rupe had simply dozed off in the warm sunlight after a lousy night of restlessness. Sure, it was unusual, but it had happened to Joshua before, long ago when he worked too many hours on very little sleep. And the shadow? It could have been anything, his imagination or poor eyesight. He was getting old.
Joshua cast another look at the window. He was beginning to feel a little silly now. Everything looked fine.
Mary’s hand snaked up onto his shoulder, startling him. He gasped and spun to face her. Mary laughed then stroked his face.
“Did I frighten you, Josh?”
He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the palm.
“No fear here,” he said, hoping to convince himself as well as his wife.
Mary slid her arm around his waist and gave a tight squeeze.
“Rupert said you’re letting him watch a show before doing his chores. Why?” An eyebrow arched above one beautiful brown eye.
Joshua ran his hands over her shoulders. He wanted to run his fingers through her thick dark hair, but she’d pulled it back into a ponytail before covering it with a handkerchief. There was no reason, to his mind, to concern her with his childish whim. Obviously, he’d let his imagination run away with him.
“I thought he could use a little treat while we got everything together,” he said.
“You are such a softy,” Mary whispered. “That’s one of things I love most about you.”
“I’m not always soft,” he whispered back, waggling his eyebrows at her until she laughed.
“Down boy. We have work to do before we play.”
“Work, work, work. Rain check?”
Mary stood up on tiptoes to press her lips to his.
“Absolutely. As soon as Rupert goes to bed,” she said, then kissed him again. “Now, let’s get to work.”
They finished the downstairs before noon. After dinner, the three of them hauled the cleaning tools upstairs to scrub each bedroom and bathroom from top to bottom, rearranged the furnishings, and put everything into its proper place. Rupert was just about tuckered out when Mama picked up her cleaning bucket and rags.
“Well, that’s the last one. Rupe, you are free to play until supper’s ready.”
“Whoopie! Thanks, Mama.” Rupert threw his arms around Mama’s waist for a tight hug. His weariness seemed to vanish as he flew down the stairs and out the front door, banging the screen door against the side of the house as he went.
Mary sighed and shook her head at the sound. They were gonna need to get a spring on that door before one of the kids put a hole in the wall.
Worry etched across Joshua’s face as he watched his son from the bedroom window. Rupert tore off across the fields kicking up dust with every step. Joshua knew exactly where the boy was headed, whether Rupert consciously knew it or not, back to that damned car. There was something unsettling about that car and the way Rupert was drawn to it.
“Josh, are you okay?” Mary’s hand felt cool against the skin of his forearm.
“Yes, Mary,” he answered, patting her hand. “I just don’t want Rupe playing anywhere near that old car. There’s no telling what’s hiding in there. I’m gonna go make sure he stays away.”
Mary watched him go, a frown settling on her face. This wasn’t like Josh, dogging the kids all the time. Usually, he laid down the rules and expected them to be obeyed. Mary was the one who made sure the kids did as they were told.
From the window, she watched Josh jog off after Rupert. She supposed it could be dangerous out there, snakes and all that. With a shake of her head, she turned away from the window, gathered her supplies, and headed off to the kitchen. They’d need to have a serious talk at supper.
Joshua jogged across the fields. Up ahead he could see Rupert stopped in front of the car, still as a statue. This made Josh more afraid than if Rupe had been moving. The strange trance from earlier in the day appeared to be happening again. Abruptly, Rupert was moving, his hand outstretched as if to open the driver’s side door. Joshua ran for all he was worth, towards his son, certain for no discernible reason that he could put his finger on, that the boy was in real danger. Certain that if Rupert opened the door, if he got into the car, he would be lost to Joshua forever. The thought spurred him on.
Rupert had just wrapped his fingers around the door handle when Joshua reached him. Though he scooped the boy up in his arms and pulled gently, Rupert’s handheld tightly to the metal.
“Rupert, let go,” Joshua ordered. There was no response from his son. Rupe stared straight ahead, his eyes unblinking, his grip tight on the door handle as if unable to let go. Joshua tucked the boy under one arm, prying at his fingers with the other hand. At last he managed to loosen them and pull his son away from the car. Rupert hung limp in his arms.
Joshua had carried him through the first field when Rupe began to stir. Briefly he paused to set Rupert on his feet. The boy wobbled but remained upright with his father’s hands holding tight to his arms.
“Rupe? Come on, son, answer me.”
Rupert’s eyes fluttered then stabilized. Rubbing his fists over his eyes, he tried to focus on his father.
“Pops?” Rupert asked meekly. “What happened? Did I fall asleep? I feel so tired.”
“Can you walk, Rupe?” Pops asked, ignoring the boy’s questions.
“Sure, Pops,” Rupert said groggily.
Pops placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, guiding him through the fields, away from the car. Josh could feel the eyes on him again. Eyes that felt hot and angry where they bore into his spine as he walked the boy away. Joshua walked faster.
By the time they’d reached the porch, Rupe seemed to be his usual self again. He chatted on about what the winter might bring, his nervousness about starting a new school, and wondered about what his siblings would think of the new house. Pops listened silently, his own thoughts churning in his mind, searching for answers to explain what he’d seen and felt, but finding none.
“Hey, there,” Mama said with a smile when Rupert entered the kitchen. “You weren’t gone very long.”
“Really? It seemed like a long time,” Rupe said with a shrug. “How long ’til supper?”
“Are you hungry, Rupe?”
“I’m starving,” he said with all the drama of a nine-year-old.
Mama laughed. “Go wash up and you can help me get supper on the table.”
“Alright,” Rupert agreed. He tore off, taking the stairs as fast as he could.
“Do you think he knows there’s a washroom down here? He always goes upstairs,” Mary said, stirring the pot of chowder that was bubbling away on the stove. When Joshua didn’t answer she shot him a questioning look. “Josh, is everything okay?”
“Yes, Mary, everything is fine.” Josh had already decided, on his way back to the house, to keep his worries to himself for now. Mary hadn’t witnessed anything amiss; it would be unkind to drag her into the situation when he had no idea what that situation was or how to handle it. It would be best to wait it out for now. As soon as he could, he’d have the car towed away. Problem solved. Until then, he’d keep his own council. Thus decided, he told his wife all was well and left the room to keep her from seeing the truth on his face.
Mary had seen the truth. Something was worrying her husband. Something that had to do with Rupert. Was Rupert acting up? Was he being disobedient? She had seen none of this. Rupert seemed to her, to be his usual fun-loving self. It appeared that he was adjusting quite well. So, what had Joshua so worried? And why was he refusing to talk to her about it? Mary made a silent vow to get it out of him one way or another.
Tonight.
Joshua woke with a start. He lay still, listening hard for a repeat of whatever sound had dragged him from his dream. The silence stretched on. Hearing nothing, he closed his eyes in an attempt to return to sleep. Sleep would not come. Instead, his mind twisted around the questions Mary had bombarded him with as soon as he’d slid into bed. She could tell something was wrong, but Joshua was still reluctant to drag her into it. Not yet. Not when he had no answers. He’d managed to distract her until she’d snuggled up next to him, a smile on her lips, and drifted off to sleep.
There it was again; the noise that had awakened him. Joshua slipped from the bed, trying not to wake his wife.
“What’s up?” Mary whispered sleepily.
“Nothing. I’m just going to check on Rupe,” Joshua said, zipping himself into his pants.
“’Kay,” Mary mumbled.
Joshua thrust his feet into his slippers and left the room. Walking quickly but quietly, he made his way to Rupert’s room. The door was slightly ajar. A full moon hung in night sky, casting its beams through the window, lighting the room. It made it easy for Josh to see to the empty bed, the rumbled bedding spilling over the side and onto the floor. Snapping on the light, he did a quick check of the room including the closet, but Rupert was not there. Half running, Joshua checked the bathroom and, upon finding nothing amiss, headed down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Rupert had to be somewhere. Joshua hoped that “somewhere” was a place inside the house. If the boy had gone outside, if he was wandering around in the dark, how would Joshua find him? His heartbeat quickened fearfully.
Halfway down the stairs, the noise came again. Joshua’s steps faltered. It came from below. Near the kitchen? Creeping along on tiptoe, his back pressed to the wall, Joshua made his way down the stairs.
He was almost to the kitchen when a shadowy figure in the foyer caught his attention. It moved, followed by a thump. Joshua crept closer, wishing he had a weapon of some kind. The figure bumped against the door, backed up a step, and then bumped against it again. Recognition sent a shiver through Joshua’s body.
“Rupert?” Joshua whispered, flicking on the overhead light.
The boy didn’t respond but bumped against the door again before taking a single step backward. Gently, Joshua caught the boy’s shoulder and turned him around. Though his son’s eyes were open, they remained dazed and unfocused.
Sleep walking again. Joshua frowned. Rupe had never been a sleepwalker before this. Hand on the boy’s shoulder, he flicked off the light and attempted to guide his son back to the stairs. Rupert resisted. First the boy wouldn’t move at all. Then he tried to return to the door. Cautious of startling the boy awake, Joshua placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and turned him back around.
“Come on,” he said softly, “up to bed.”
The boy began to shuffle forward, his slippered feet scraping along the hardwood floor. Like nails on a chalkboard, it brought a flush of goose flesh to Joshua’s arms.
They’d managed three dragging, scraping steps when another noise reached Joshua’s ears. From the front door came first a long scratching sound down the wood, followed by the creaking of movement on the front porch. Joshua leaped from his son to the door. He pulled back the flimsy cotton curtain over the small window and pressed his face to the glass for a look at who – or what – was on the other side.
A face, deathly white and contorted with rage, appeared before him. Its mouth opened wide, a long heart stopping wail burst from its throat. The sound rose loud enough for Joshua to clap his hands over his ears. The curtain fluttered back into place. The sound broke off abruptly.
“What the -” Joshua cried out, jumping back from the glass.
The door rattled and thumped as if someone very large and desperate was trying to gain entry. Joshua backed away. He wrapped his arms around his motionless son, silently praying the lock would hold. Footsteps thundered down the stairs behind him. Joshua jerked his head towards the stairs, terrified something had gained entry to the house through some other means.
But it was Mary, flying down the stairs at him, her eyes wide with fright, the hem of her robe flapping around her ankles. Throwing herself into the jumble, she wrapped her arms around Rupert and pulled him close.
“Joshua, is someone out there? Should we call the police?”
Joshua threaded an arm around her waist. Her body shook with fear. There was no way for him to explain this away. Something was out there.
Abruptly, the pounded stopped. Joshua peeled away from his family, intent on peeking out the window to see if the spectral vision he’d seen before was still out there on the porch. Mary’s cool fingers on his wrist stopped him.
“Here, Joshua,” she said, sliding her cell phone from the pocket of her robe and pressing it into his hand. “In case they’re still out there.”
Joshua took it. Cautiously, he made his way to the door. With trembling hands, he slid back the curtain and looked out. The porch was empty. There was no sign of anyone having even been there. A pent-up breath left his body with an audible huff.
Turning to his wife he said, “Take Rupert back up to bed. I’m going to check the grounds.”
“Joshua,” Mary began, her lips quivering.
“It’ll be alright, Mary,” Joshua said stepping back towards her. He pushed the phone at her, but she shook her head.
“You take it. Just in case. If I need to, I’ll use yours.”
Joshua gave a terse nod. It did make sense for him to have a phone. Having left his on the nightstand, he slipped his wife’s phone into his pants pocket. Mary stepped away from Rupert to retrieve her husband’s coat and help him into it. From the closet, she retrieved a small flashlight and handed it to him. Joshua flicked it on to check the beam then off again.
“Be careful,” she whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Joshua returned the kiss to her lips and was out the door. Mary stood staring after him, trying to quiet her breathing. Fear had her glued to the spot. Fear for her husband; fear that whoever was out there would come into the house while Joshua was out; fear that someone was already hiding inside the house, waiting for the opportune moment to attack. Rupert stirred beside her.
“Mama? What’s going on? Why are we downstairs?” Rupert rubbed at his eyes.
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Mary whispered. “Let’s go quietly up to bed.”
Rupert could hear the strain in his mother’s voice though she was trying hard to hide it. If Mama was afraid, there must be something to be frightened of, though he saw nothing. Following in Mama’s wake, he made his way to the stairs.
“Where’s Pops?” Rupert intended to whisper, but his voice sounded too loud in the small stairwell. Mama didn’t answer, just squeezed his hand gently, and Rupert fell silent.
At the top of the stairs, Mama guided him to his room. She tucked him in bed and planted a kiss on his forehead.
“Get some sleep, Rupe,” she said.
“W-will you stay with me, Mama? ‘Til I fall asleep?”
“Yes, sweet boy.” Mama stroked his forehead. Her fingers felt cool against his skin, soothing him. Though he felt sure he wouldn’t be able to fall to sleep, he drifted off quickly.
Mary paced to the window, hoping to see her husband; afraid she’d see someone else. Though, she supposed, if she saw someone else, she could text her husband their location and then phone the police. But Joshua’s phone was still on the nightstand next to their bed. She would have to leave Rupert alone to retrieve it and she was reluctant to do so.
Outside there was nothing to see, but moonlight and empty farmland shrouded in darkness. Instead of feeling relieved, she felt worry and fear creep deeper into her heart as she looked on. Where was Joshua? Was he alright? Had he tried to reach her already? Maybe he’d turned the ringer off, and he’d been calling and calling her for help. That thought got her moving. With a glance at Rupert, she hustled down the hallway to her bedroom. The phone was visible on the nightstand by the lamp. She scooped it up, turned around, and jogged back to Rupert’s room.
Rupert still lay in his bed, though he was now moaning in his sleep, tossing his head back and forth. Mary started to walk to his bed, only to stop short at the sight outside his window. She moved quickly to the sill for a better look. Below, Joshua made his way across the field. The moonlight cast him as little more than a shadow, the beam of his flashlight bouncing ahead of him as he walked. As she watched, he threw one leg over the remaining rails on a broken wooden fence. With ease, he dropped to the other side unaware that behind him there was movement through the tall weeds. Mary leaned in closer, trying to see what moved in the shadows.
The weeds parted, moving back and forth as if long legs were rushing through them. Right towards her husband. Mary fumbled with the phone. Joshua had either turned it off to charge, or the battery had died before he’d plugged it in, either way, the screen was blank. With hands that shook so hard she nearly dropped the phone, Mary struggled to turn it on. At last the phone vibrated in her hands sending out a string of notes alerting her it was firing up. Outside, a ghostly figure appeared a few steps behind her husband. Impossibly, it seemed to form in the air at his back, becoming more solid as it stepped closer to Joshua.
The phone was taking too long. Mary knocked at the window, trying to gain Joshua’s attention. He didn’t seem to notice, though the thing stalking him – was it a man, so grotesquely formed? – cast its eyes in her direction, a crooked smile on its face. The eyes, filled with malicious evil, met hers. For one frightening moment, Mary felt paralyzed, lost in the depths of those orbs. Then it broke the connection, focused once again on Joshua.
Terrified for her husband, Mary began to beat at the window. The glass shook beneath her palms with each blow. No longer concerned about waking her sleeping son, she screamed her husband’s name over and over punctuating each scream with a blow to the window until he heard her. He stopped below her, his eyes searching until they lit upon her in the window. Mary urged him on, waving him towards the house, but he didn’t seem to understand her. She could no longer see the man-thing that had stalked him. This gave her no peace. It was more worrisome to not see it than when she could see it. She continued to urge her husband toward the house.
Joshua stood looking at her with a frown of concentration that turned suddenly to fear. And then he was shouting and pointing. Screaming out his wife’s name, he began running towards the house. Though Mary searched the area below her she could not see what Joshua had been pointing at. All seemed to be well down below.
Mary stepped away from the glass, bowing her head momentarily to breathe deeply and offer up a silent prayer of thanks for her husband’s safety. Below, she could hear the bang of the front door as Joshua entered the house, his footsteps pounding up the stairs.
Looking up, Mary met the eyes of her reflection in the pane of glass. Something else reflected there, behind her head. Moving slightly to one side, it came into full view. Her breath caught in her throat as a menacing face, grotesquely twisted with rage, moved closer to her own.
Mary screamed and spun towards her attacker; her hands outstretched to ward off the attack. In the bed, Rupert’s scream mingled with hers. The sound rising high into the air, echoing in the room. Kicking free of the blankets, he ran to his mother who wrapped her arms protectively around him.
As quickly as the specter had appeared, it was gone.
Joshua threw himself into the room, spinning madly in search of the figure he’d seen standing behind his wife. He found no one but his wife and child, both sobbing. Joshua gathered them into his arms and held them tight, offering what little comfort he could, unsure if the quaking he felt was from their fear or from his own. He held them and waited for the world to feel right again.