The Spite House(79)
“So listen, I get it that this isn’t easy for you,” he said. “Believe me, I’ve been through something very tough and scary myself. So has my wife. What she’s been through is a lot like what you went through, except she’s still going through it, and she’s not even supposed to. Do you understand?”
She hesitated, not sure which would make him madder, saying yes or no. “No” would upset him right now, but “yes” would make him upset later when she still couldn’t do what he wanted her to. Before she answered, though, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Max heard them, too, and stopped talking. He even held his breath. He turned around to his wife and put a finger to her lips, as if she might say something.
The sound of the footsteps moved past them and up to the top floor, where Dad slept on the first night they were here. Max exhaled and said to his wife, “Do you know who that is, Jane? Can you see them?”
She continued to say nothing, and Stacy’s eyes got wider. Max had to know his wife wasn’t going to talk to him. She hadn’t said or done a thing this whole time. Stacy figured out that that was what she needed help with. So why was he acting like she might answer him now?
A coldness like a mist moved into the hall. It made the light a little dimmer and turned it a shade of blue. Max rubbed one of his arms.
“Jane?” he said. “What’s happening? Jane? Babe, if you’re here at all right now, if you can hear me at all I need your help. I need your help to help you.”
His hand went behind his back and Stacy moved away from him. He did not grab his gun, though. He stood still, his breathing getting quicker. With his back turned she couldn’t tell, but Stacy thought he might be crying.
The footsteps came back down the stairs to the third floor, where Stacy was. The door to the first bedroom opened and someone walked in. They were talking and it sounded to Stacy like they were saying a prayer. The voice was low and deep like it didn’t want to be heard, and it was muffled by the wall, but Stacy knew it was her father’s. It was the only thing that kept her warm.
“Daddy, I’m in here!” Stacy cried.
The voice paused, then answered, “I’m here too.”
“Hey,” Max said. “Hey, listen. Sir? Sir, listen, this isn’t what you think!”
Her father continued his prayer and Max shivered. Even his wife started to shake, unable to ignore the cold, which Stacy knew was getting worse even though she felt like a blanket protected her from it.
Max punched the wall and shouted, “Hey man! Whatever you’re doing, stop. Just stop! This isn’t what you think it is. I wasn’t planning to do anything bad. And I really don’t want to hurt your kid, but you’re scaring me. And if you don’t stop whatever it is you’re doing, I swear to God—”
Behind her, a woman wailed, and Stacy dropped to her knees and covered her ears. Max did something similar. His wife stayed standing and trembling, then took in a big breath that sucked in the wailing sound. Her face showed surprise and she looked alive for the first time since Stacy first saw her. Jane looked at her hands like she’d never seen hands before. Max saw her reaction and said, “Jane? Oh my God, are you really—?”
Then the children giggled, the sound bouncing up and down the hall.
Quietly, Stacy said, “Please, Dad, please get me out, please.”
Max and Jane said nothing until the light flickered. Jane made a short gasping sound and between one of the flashes of light and darkness disappeared from the hall.
Max got up and stepped toward where she’d been. “Jane! No, no, no, no, n—”
When the lights went all the way out, he stopped saying words and just started grunting and breathing heavily like he wanted to take in all the air he could before he went to a place where there wasn’t any air. Something fell hard to the floor and Stacy heard Max struggling and making little whining, pleading noises. Then he gave out a final cry that faded into an echo, then into nothing.
Stacy waited for whatever made Jane and Max disappear to come after her next. She thought about how unfair it was that her father was so close but still couldn’t save her. That whomever he was praying to wasn’t answering him. Maybe because she didn’t deserve to get saved.
I didn’t do anything, she had said, had wanted to scream. But maybe she had. The voices at Miss Eunice’s house wanted her to remember something. The vision she shook away when she saw that open bench—the sight of her parents walking up to her while she was lying down in a box. Sleeping inside the box. Why would she have been sleeping there instead of a bed? Why would she have been dressed so nice to go to sleep?
It didn’t make sense, just like being stuck in that dark place away from her parents and sister didn’t make sense. Being in the dark here made her remember how it felt when she got lost and found her way home. It felt like she was deep underwater, where it got so cold it should have been impossible to breathe, except she didn’t need to breathe. She didn’t need light to find her way up either, not at first. She just needed to keep swimming and fighting until eventually she saw a light, and then keep going until it got closer. When she finally saw a light, that was when she realized somebody had been helping her the whole time. She’d fought hard, and was getting tired, but whoever was helping her didn’t let her quit. They made her think of what Pa-Pa Fred told her.