Chapter 9

 

“I don't usually dream let alone have a nightmare,” I defended myself.

“I don't either,” Diane retorted.

“Fine, I haven't any other exclamations for the Brown sisters' hallucinations. If you can just hang in there until morning, I'll clean the attic out. Maybe that will take care of our spooky noises problem and your bad dreams.

As for tonight, it's hot in here, and I hate to turn the air on for such a short time. Where did you store the box fans, Diane? I think we’ll need them if we're going to get any sleep at all. At least, I intend to sleep through the night.

According to the weather report, in a day or two, a cool spell is coming in off the lake. Maybe then we won't be so restless if it's cooler in the house,” Paul said.

Diane huffed, “How we sleep has nothing to do with what we saw.” Paul looked down his nose at his wife. He'd rather be watching television then continue this discussion about what he thought was our nonsense. “All right! There are two fans in the closet in the guest bedroom. I’ll go get them.” Diane gave up, glad to have an excuse to get out of the room.

“I'll go with you so I can carry mine,” I offered. As we walked down the hall, I hissed, “That little talk with Paul didn't go too well.”

Diane said softly, “I not really surprised Paul didn’t believe us. I'm having trouble believing us myself.”

“I know what you mean,” I agreed.

Diane flipped the light switch on. She couldn't help herself. She looked around for signs of an unnatural spook in the corners.

I knew exactly what she was doing, because I was doing the same thing. I didn't know what we were looking for. For one thing, I'd rather not come face to face with the previous house owner's ghost anymore than I wanted to have a bat fly at me.

The room was empty. So like the brave person I act like I am I chided both of us for being so jumpy.

With a shrug, Diane walked over to the closet door and slid it open. “Hey, you can't blame me for being cautious.”

“No, nothing wrong with that. I'm always cautious. Part of my cop training,” I assured her.

While Diane bent over to pull the fan out from under the clothes, I leaned against the dresser and put my hand on it. Something on the surface of the dresser felt gritty. I looked at my palm and rubbed my thumb against my finger tips. Tiny pieces of gray matter balled up. What on earth was on that dresser? “What's this gritty stuff?”

Diane straightened up and set a square box fan behind her. “I don't know. Couldn't be much? I just dusted in here a couple of days ago.” She came to look, forgetting about the other fan.

With a disgusted expression, she stared at my dirty hand then ran a finger over the dresser top. Gray beads of insulation mingled with white dust and blanketed the Pledge polished wood. Her finger left a trail across the surface.

Diane hissed, “That's insulation from the attic.” She looked above her and pointed at the ceiling.

A chill ran through me. There was a trap door to the attic in the ceiling above the dresser. How had I missed that trap door all this time?

The sliding door was slightly ajar. We stared up at it. No way could we see beyond the tiny dark crack.

“How do you suppose the door got opened?” I whispered.

Diane backed toward the bedroom door. “I'm going after Paul,” she whispered frantically. “Don't do anything until we get back.”

I wasn't going to wait until Diane got Paul motivated enough to come check out the trap door. There was a flashlight on the dresser. Diane kept one in each bedroom in case the electricity went out during a storm.

If I stood up on the dresser, I could slide the trap door over and shine the flashlight in the attic. I kicked my shoes off and wished I hadn't when I felt the gritty insulation on the dresser bite into the bottom of my feet. Until I got my balance, I held onto the frame of the mirror.

With the flashlight on, I slid the trap door the rest of the way open. The opening wasn't very big. My arm with the flashlight went in first then my head. I was pretty much wedged when my shoulders were in the open space. The rest of me would follow if I wanted to go all the way up into the attic, but I didn't intend to do that. I was afraid I'd upset the bats. I didn't want those animal vampires landing on me.

Wavering the flashlight around the area in front of me, I didn't see any small black blurs swooping at me like I had expected. Later what I remembered seeing when I was alert enough to recall was my flashlight shone on a dirty cowboy boot sole coming at me.

It happened so fast. No way could I duck quickly enough to avoid what was about to happen, stuck in that opening like I was. The boot's sole connected with my face at about the same time I threw the flashlight with what force I could muster into the darkness above the foot.

Wham! I yelled as the force of that boot smacked me in the face. The blow dislodged me from the attic opening. I felt myself falling like a ton of bricks. Good thing the soft bed was right by the dresser. That's where I landed.

Diane heard my yell just as she reached the living room. She knew I was in trouble. “Paul,” she whispered as she shook her dozing husband on the shoulder. “Paul, please wake up,” she pleaded quietly.

“What’s the matter?” He mumbled.

“There’s something wrong in the bedroom. Come quick. I just heard Renee yell like she's hurt. I told her to wait until I came back with you, but she didn't listen to me.” She grabbed his arm as Paul started to turn the wrong direction. “No, not our bedroom. The guest room at the end of the hall where the fans were stored.”

“Calm down. If you need help carrying the fans, why don’t you just say so?” Paul groused.

“This doesn't have anything to do with the fans.” Diane stopped just inside the bedroom door. “Oh no, Renee's hurt.”

She rushed over to me and lifted my head. “Easy! I think my nose is broken.” I wiped my hand gently under my nose and came away with blood all over it.

Diane was frantic when she saw how puffy my face was getting.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

Diane's face scrunched up. “Well, your eyes are black and blue. They may be swelled shut by morning. Your nose is listing toward your right cheek like its broken, and your lips are swelling, especially the lower one where its split open.”

“Is that all?” I lisped dryly.

“That's about all I can tell with so much blood all over you.” She paused to get her breath and pointed to the dresser. “Look, Paul. Insulation is all over the dresser, and the attic trap door is open.”She said in a hushed tone, pointing upward.

Paul shook his head no as he checked out the attic door.

When Diane looked up, she found the trap door shut.“Well, it was slightly open when I left.”

“Bats can slide through tiny cracks. A bat may be down here with us this very minute,” said Paul, calmly. “Renee, didn't your mother ever tell you not to climb up to high places? You must have taken a heck of a fall to smash your nose like that. How bad are you hurt?”

“I feel like I've went ten rounds with a boxer, and he smashed my face but good. No way can a bat open or close that heavy trap door, and I had it all the way open,” I whispered. “Diane, call the police station and send Officer Briceson over here now!”

Diane said, “I'm going to make that call and ask for an ambulance, You need to go to the emergency room. Paul will you please look in the attic.”

“I suppose I should, or you won’t let me get a wink of sleep tonight, will you?”

“No,” she squeaked.

“Paul, I wouldn't do that if I were you. Wait for the police to get here,” I ordered, talking through the side of my mouth that wasn't as painful.

“Get me a flashlight, Diane,” Paul ordered, ignoring me.

“There’s one right beside you.” Diane pointed a trembling finger to the dresser.

“No there isn't,” Paul said.

“It's in the attic,” I said softly.

“How did it get there?” Paul demanded.

Now I was getting irritated. “I threw it at one heck of a large bat wearing a number eleven cowboy boot with a pile of turkey poop and feathers stuck on the bottom. That boot meant business when it kicked me hard in the face. I'm telling you call the police. If that's Longfellow up there, and I think it is, he's a dangerous killer.”

“Paul, I'll get the flashlight in our room for you before I make the call.” Diane disappeared just long enough to retrieve the flashlight.

She handed it to Paul and left. He stepped up on the bed by me, then over onto the dresser top. In a stooped shouldered stance, he slid the door open. Sticking the flashlight through the opening first, he stood up straight, his head disappearing into the attic.

With dread, I watched his body twist one way than the other, thinking I should get off the bed. When that boot smacked Paul in the face, he'd do me a lot more bodily harm when he fell on me. I didn't need any more injuries. I was hurting bad enough already.

Paul let out a loud gasp. His body tensed and then shuddered as he got whacked on the back of the head, probably with my flashlight. I rolled off the bed onto the floor as Paul sank to his knees on the dresser. I wanted to give him plenty of room to land on the bed.

He collapsed backward, disappearing between the dresser and the bed. The thud was loud when his body met the floor. The flashlight he'd held flew beyond the foot of the bed, rolled and clattered to a stop against the closet door.

I raised up and bellied back on the bed. Forcing myself to crawl down to the foot of the bed, I looked beside the dresser. Movement made my pain worse. Blood spurted from my nose all over what used to be Diane's new bedspread.

“Paul! Are you all right?” I hissed.

Flat on the floor, Paul rubbed the back of his head and stared up at me blankly.

“What happened to you?” I rasped.

“There’s something in the attic all right,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath as he focused somewhere above my head.

“I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn't listen to me. Not something but someone,” I corrected, hating to repeat myself. Talking hurt when I moved my puffy lips.

“Might be. I know whatever it is is way bigger than a bat. I just got a look out of the corner of my eye at a large black object before I got hit in the head.”

Diane rushed in and saw her husband on the floor. “Oh no! Paul, you're hurt too.”