House of Darkness House of Light Read online

  “Never take the advice of someone who has not

  had your kind of trouble.”

  Sidney J. Harris

  ~ the borning room door with a mind of its own ~

  rearing its ugly head

  “The Past lies upon the Present like a giant’s dead body.”

  Nathaniel Hawthorne The House of Seven Gables

  Kids are stupid. No matter how bright or God-gifted, they unfortunately remain as dumb as dirt; please pardon the insult to dirt. As those naturally precocious frequently prove, curiosity is both a blessing and a curse. To be forewarned is to be forearmed. Yet, children bring things on themselves all the time. It is how they learn about life and death. A single foolish decision, made in haste during an opportune moment, defying gravity while defying authority, the children proceeded to do as they damn well pleased. Beyond theory, it is an infinite axiom, an immeasurable and immutable law of the Universe. Kids are stupid. Referencing the Law of Attraction, as well as the Law of Cause and Effect, there is also Murphy’s Law: what can go wrong, will go wrong. Then there is Schwartz’s Law, which is as follows: Murphy was an optimist. Disobedient heathens get what they deserve. It’s the law.

  ***

  Katy wore a hint of trouble like perfume. An enticing aroma, attractive to her gullible girlfriends, just a whiff, a dab of desperado smudged behind the ears, the scent was detectable to those with a nose for adventure. As a unique fragrance it was captivating, intoxicating, persuasive, mysterious, evoking a rather nostalgic air of time gone by… of the age of innocence. Kate also wore the essence of purity well, a barely perceptible trace, inspiring confidence in unsuspecting adults. Lulling them into a false sense of security, Katy made more mischief than most girls ever make in secret, right beneath the noses of those mesmerized by the sweetest scent of trouble in the air.

  Something about Kate attracted all the boys as well, though it was likely a more subliminal scent and is, in fact, another story. When she’d appear at the farmhouse, she was generally unannounced, though planned well in advance; an inordinate amount of strategizing occurred on the bus every morning and afternoon. Nancy and Katy were as thick as thieves, a tag team in the den of iniquity. Two perfect little pixies. Baby dolls. Cute as buttons, they were and they got away with everything but murder and would have beaten that wrap.

  However, once Katy accepted the existence of the spirits at the farm, she wanted to dispose of their celestial bodies. Hell bent and determined to expel them, Katy had a plan. Nancy had an objection to the plan; her weak-willed exception to this proposal was no match for a friend’s tenacity. Not that Katy cops all the blame, though she was often the mastermind. As a smart, savvy, manipulative adolescent girl, (by any standard, a dangerous combination of attributes), Katy inevitably got her way. Nancy bought into all the nonsense. Every scheme… every time. On a number of occasions the girls validated the aforementioned axiom… for every action, a reaction. Perhaps it is why they’d bonded so closely, as birds of a feather do tend to flock together.

  It was a clever disguise—the sweet disposition, those big brown eyes and chubby cherub cheeks: adorable. Carolyn opened the kitchen door, ushering Katy over the threshold, in from the cold clearly capable of numbing a mind as well as one’s fingers and toes. There’s one possible excuse—brain freeze! Braving the elements on that bitter, blustery afternoon, Kate hiked across the power lines… a short cut, as the crow flies… about a mile. It was back in the days when kids went out to play in the cold and their parents let them go, so it was no surprise whenever Katy made that challenging trek, this time with purpose and reason. Had Carolyn not been so charmed by the youngster, she might have noticed the sparkle in her eyes. Though difficult to discern by an untrained eye of the beholder, truth be told, Kate had a bit of the devil in her. Carolyn unwittingly invited the precious little demon seed into their house, kindly welcoming her onto the premises with a hot cup of cocoa in hand, that extra ingredient, adding insult to injury. Katy was a known quantity, yet full of surprises, as she was the day she so brazenly slipped forbidden contraband past the presumed mistress of the house. Carolyn, suspecting nothing had not a clue about the nefarious object concealed beneath Katy’s woolen overcoat. Neither did Nancy. It was meant to be a surprise, one worthy of trudging for a mile or so through snow. At the sound of her full voice, Nancy went flying, moth to a flame. Gulping down their cocoa, Katy suggested they go upstairs. Nancy took the lead. When they got into her bedroom, Kate closed the door. Pulling open her coat, revealing what was so discreetly hidden inside its torn lining, Nancy shrieked with delight.

  “Nice! Satin.” Nancy had an eye for fashion, a penchant for high quality.

  “Not the lining! Look what’s underneath it!” The pot and kettle engaged in conversation. Katy pointed to the outline of a long box, exposing the stash in a flash. Curious as a cat, Nancy reached into the secret compartment of the coat, retrieving a mysterious box, tattered with age; no ordinary board game.

  “What is it?” Inquiring minds… Nancy was instantly fascinated.

  “A Ouija board. We can have a séance! We’ll call the ghosts then make them go away… with this!”

  “No way!” Nancy knew better… on both counts. She had seen what came of Cindy’s fiasco, a similar escapade with Lori. Likewise, she’d been sternly forewarned against the use of Ouija boards, as Lorraine Warren had already come to call, expressly forbidding the presence of the dangerous game in the house. Nancy took it seriously. Perturbed by the intrusion, Nancy was certain she had told Kate of the unwritten rule about an unwelcome object. It would have to go. A disappointment pending, it was time for Kate to plead her case.

  Reassuring Nancy that this game was perfectly harmless, her arguments centered on the cowards who feared it as being ridiculous and melodramatic. Superb hyperbole, the hellion knew how to work a room but actions speak louder than words… loud enough for Cindy to hear. The door to the chimney closet was open and she was on the other side of it. For the sake of curiosity, as mystical weirdness, an unyielding teen promised her trusting friend no ill would come of it. Nancy explained that her mother had taken sage advice as a legitimate warning. No Tarot cards. No Ouija boards. Period. Mrs. Warren told them all neither was a game, much more an invitation to disaster. Katy considered the warning hocus pocus and was not impressed by this litany of excuses. Instead, she suggested it was time to seek a second opinion. Katy tucked the board under her arm and marched into Cindy’s room, right past a sister hiding there. Emerging from behind the chimney, Cindy followed, then Nancy, as they gathered for a conference in the heart of the farmhouse.

  Even though Cynthia had little tolerance for Katy, she was intrigued by what this mischief maker was proposing, in spite of a former encounter gone horribly wrong. Time had passed. Cindy was older, though apparently none the wiser. More prepared to re-explore their treacherous terrain, to play with a new toy. Relieved once the onus was officially off her, Nancy acquiesced. They all settled in together on the floor of the secluded room and opened the box. It may as well have had Pandora’s Box scrawled across the cardboard surface. The disobedient heathens were old enough to know when they were breaking a steadfast rule; ignoring instructions, the troops were disregarding a direct order. After all, they had played with it in the past, no harm done. Blatant defiance of authority resulted in consequences they couldn’t imagine. Headstrong, Katy’s influence was powerful. Caught in her spell, another one of those webs she’d weave just to practice to deceive, the girls were about to bestow a whole new meaning on the word daredevil. Opening up the board, Kate placed it in the center of their circle, demonstrating how it worked for Cindy; fingers laid gently on the centerpiece, allowing it to move around the board at will, in response to questions asked. Ah, if it were only that easy…

  Deciding which question to pose first, it proved to be the last they would ask of the Ouija board on that fateful day, or any other.

  “Who is inside the house?” Proceeding with caution, courageous
Katy did the honors. Too late to be careful; a low, guttural moan began to erupt within the room. Within seconds, it exploded into an ominous roar. Clutching their ears, a reflexive act to block the horrendous outburst of decibels, three brave teenagers were instantly transformed into quivering, sniveling girls, utterly immobilized by abject terror. It had only begun. Suddenly, a dark, menacing figure, the living image of a wild, ferocious animal appeared as an enormous shadow moving slowly, deliberately across stark white walls. Appearing in silhouette as if the creature casting the shadow was actually in the room with them, each felt consumed by an intensely evil presence. Shocked, they stared into it, as none could believe her eyes. The bedroom became permeated with its repulsive odor. Noxious fumes triggered Katy’s gag reflex, causing her to retch from the rancid stench in the air. An inexplicable cold flash froze them in place. The floor began vibrating. Gazing at the walls in total amazement, cringing again with each awful roar, a revolting creature reared its ugly head, throwing it back, exposing its vile teeth. Unidentifiable, nothing they even remotely recognized, the apparition was a beast but one not of this world. A cross between a lion and a wolf, it did not resemble any animal they knew, as its gruesome features were indistinct, distorted by the angles of dormers, save one stunning glimpse they caught of a gigantic set of sharp, protruding fangs dripping with a fluid they presumed to be blood. Though they watched that figure for only a few seconds, they well remember sensing its implied threat. It was as if their house had come alive. Glass rattled in the windows. The booming sounds magnified, shattering a barrier between them and itself. They could feel it viscerally, shaking their sternums as floorboards vibrating beneath them. Hands clasped tightly against ears, they’d attempted to muffle the deafening sounds of some mutation manifestation, as well as their own mortal screams. All were sobbing hysterically, yelling for help, begging for mercy while frantically searching one another’s pleading eyes with a ‘what have we done’ desperation yet it did not require words to express the heartfelt sentiment. Humbled kids knew they were in terrible trouble. Not one of them was able to budge from their positions. Steam pouring into frigid air around them while gasping for breath, they were forced to inhale then expel a putrid smell too repugnant to describe. The house heaved, rumbling with a violent turbulence. Evil forces had converged. There would be no challenging it. Surrender reserved for overpowering encounters, this qualified as such; a disturbing spectral odyssey revealed. With a sweeping gesture, the demon, in profile, turned to face the terrified trio. They’d dared the devil. It morphed into something a group of mortified girls could not comprehend. Throwing its ugly head back, exposing its full throat, the figure unleashed a reverberating, tremulous growl then it roared out its warning, casting out the mischievous mayhem makers who conjured it, releasing them from its grasp. A spell was broken. Go away little girls! Hit hard, now run for your lives!

  Message received. Breathlessly, they leapt to their feet and raced from the bedroom, slamming through the door, rushing the darkened stairwell leading into the parlor. A grotesque figure still howling from behind, as if in pursuit, they stumbled and tumbled all over each other, like a game of Twister gone painfully awry; it was a bad trip no one felt until much later, as the anesthetic benefits of adrenaline subsided. Bouncing off the walls, banged and surely bruised by that rough ride down those stairs, their mad dash resulted in an equally stunning vision once arriving at their destination. Piling through the door at the bottom of the stairwell, what they witnessed silenced all of them.

  There was Roger, sprawled out and motionless on the sofa, sound asleep. Impossible! No conceivable way. The kids kept running, straight through the house and into the kitchen where they found Carolyn preparing a meal in the pantry. She heard them coming and stepped over the threshold to greet them. The girls plowed straight into her body, practically knocking her to the floor. Obviously, something had happened! What it was remained a mystery. The shouting and crying and hysteria they brought along with them precluded her from assessing the situation. All three were angry, extremely upset, each one seeking solace as well as an explanation for why they’d been abandoned, left to their own devices upstairs. Sitting them down around the table, inviting an open discussion, Carolyn grabbed a box of tissues and instructed the children to breathe then blow. It required several minutes to calm them down enough to determine the situation. During this time Carolyn maintained her naturally compassionate demeanor, unaware she too had something to be angry about.

  Cindy protested, demanding to know why no one came to help, insisting they were all screaming loud enough to be heard throughout the entire house, not to mention the awful rearing, roaring head on the bedroom wall shaking it from stem to stern… rafters to foundation. Nancy, as furious as perplexed, argued her point: it was impossible for their father to sleep through that kind of disturbance without waking up. Carolyn assured the girls, she had heard nothing at all. Suggesting their father may not have been able to hear them, it would not be first time (or the last) he’d been adversely affected in the midst of an ongoing manifestation. Rising from her seat, she went through the front hallway, into the dining room. She could hear Roger snoring. He was fine. Returning to the girls, mother’s intuition told Carolyn to listen up. There was more of a story here… something more to tell. Reclaiming a seat at the table, she stared at the sober crew. Katy wiped her nose but kept her eyes averted, ashamed of what she’d done. Cindy’s chest heaved as she gasped for more air with each whimper. Nancy confessed, divulging what they had done and why. All compassion suddenly went up in smoke! Made aware that a Ouija board was involved in this incident, Carolyn became visibly upset. Livid. Instead of imposing sentence she decided to reserve judgment, for the time being, to hear them out. Electricity was in the air as their body hair stood on end. Whatever the hair-raising encounter occurring upstairs seemed consequence enough, for the moment.

  In spite of their humble admissions, Nancy remained petulant; profoundly disturbed that no one had come to rescue them. Likewise, Cynthia concurred, finding it implausible that nobody heard them. A mother and father did not know about a crisis occurring beneath their own roof? Distressed, it was as if they were picking another fight! Carolyn, stunned by negativity oozing from the wild-eyed children, supposed they needed someone to blame. Insulted by the implication, the mother reassured all of them. If she’d had any indication, any suspicion something wicked was happening in the farmhouse, she would have most certainly intervened on their behalf. Instantly! No room for further accusations, argument or debate on a razor sharp point of contention. Nancy retracted her claws. BOO! Who brought that thing into this house? A logical question posed. Carolyn noticed how quiet Katy had been. Posture alone identified her as the culprit. Sunken down into her seat, she appeared to be hiding from herself, probably a good idea, as Kate could not ever seem to get out of her own way. Mothers always seem to recognize the guilty party. Katy caved. She knew the jig was up… her friends had taken the bait. No wriggling off the hook this time… not for any of them. Katy accepted responsibility for the infraction as Nancy defended her friend. Insisting she thought it was only a stupid game, she described it as just a way to kill time. How stupid are kids? Profuse with apologies for the transgression, remorseful and in tears, Katy pleaded with one mother not to tell the other. Lesson learned as a bridge burned, losing more than she knew that day, Katy would never be trusted again. She became a perpetual suspect, guilty until proven innocent.

  “Where is it? In the middle room?” Nancy nodded. Carolyn went upstairs to retrieve the Ouija board. In passing, she briefly checked on Roger. He was breathing. Marching upstairs, burning off some of her own negative energy, she jerked the board from the floor and loaded the box, leering at blank walls. The absence of its image did not cause her to doubt the children. It was over. The apparition was for them to see. Its lurid figure erased from white plaster, she knew it had come in answer to a question posed… it had come when called. Game in hand, she went back downstairs thr
ough Nancy’s bedroom.

  “Your bedroom is a mess. You will spend this afternoon cleaning it up.” Carolyn’s tone was as sharp as the slap of the box at the center of the table. Nancy didn’t dare blink let alone object to the first of several admonishments to come. “Was I unclear? Wasn’t Mrs. Warren quite clear about it?” Haven’t you girls been repeatedly warned NOT to bring one of these things into this house?” The blunt, facetious statement directed toward her two disobedient heathens, she was absolutely right and they all knew it. Nancy should have stopped this before it started, should have stopped her at the door, rather than allowing a little demon to unleash a much larger one. Carolyn had invited trouble across her threshold then gave her a cup of cocoa! “And you, young lady! I shouldn’t have to frisk you at the door! You are a guest in this house. I expect a lot from my girls and that goes for you too, Katy, which includes respecting my wishes, rules and regulations, no matter how strange it may seem. You don’t get to make decisions for me. You did it to yourselves; you were all asking for it and got what you deserved.”

  Attempting to create a diversion Nancy grasped her shoulder, indicating some measure of discomfort; a low, pitiful moan. Groping and hoping for an immediate change of perspective from her normally nurturing mother, it was not to be. Carolyn was still furious. Sympathy was in short supply, in fact out-of-stock. Tears trickling down Nancy’s cheeks, her mother was not moved. She’d seen right through the scare tactic, refusing to oblige a naughty daughter, the only time she was ever callous when a kid got a boo-boo, as anyone can recall.