“Hahahahahaha” Loz erupted from the darkness behind the
swings in delight. “Alright, Kev? Hope you didn’t have a little accident, did
ya?”
Kevin tried in vain to look hard and untroubled by Loz’s
unexpected entrance. He scuffed his feet in the dirt and attempted to look
anywhere but at Loz, in case he betrayed just how scared he really was. They
stood there then, the two of them pretending everything was ok, and that they
were happy to be there. Together.
Neither wanted to talk about why they were there. The
scariest house in the town loomed across the tree-lined park, occasionally
peering back at the boys as the clouds released the moon from its intermittent
incarceration. “So.” Loz tried to start the conversation they knew they needed
to have. “We should get in there, get this over with…”
Kevin just stood there, transfixed with fear, with the
knowledge that he would soon be in that house. Alone. Well, with Loz, which was
almost the same thing, when he thought about it.
Both inched forward along the wind-whipped pine needles and
leaves. It is quite a sight to see two teenage boys trying to get somewhere
whilst simultaneously trying to go in the opposite direction. Loz had lost his
cocky grin and Kevin had retracted into a sullen silence that meant he was
listening to his own heart beating in his ears as loudly as a bass drum.
The door to the house stood skewed on ancient hinges, the
rot holding it together in an ironic parody of accepted science. The boys stared
at the door for what felt like weeks – mesmerised by the threat of the stories
that had been told to them about what had been seen and heard in there for
decades since the last known owners left in the dead of night, apparently
abandoning their worldly goods for no recorded reason. “The lights flicker in
the night, despite there being no electricity in the place”, that was Loz’s
sister’s offering. “Once a month there are blood-curdling screams heard coming
from the cellar”, that one was Kevin’s own mother. Great. With family like
that, you don’t need friends…
With a collective intake of breath, they forced through the
rot-riddled wood and stood squinting in the dusty gloom of the hall. Kevin
produced a torch from his pocket and turned on the beam, illuminating only a
few paces in front. Around them they saw decades of decay, wrapped around the
belongings of the previous residents like carefully placed tissue paper. The
moonlight was filtered through a thick film of dust on the windows, and then
further dimmed by the motes floating in the still, dead air. The boys turned a
full circle, taking in the stairs, doors to other rooms, the ornaments, coats
and even letters lying on the hall table. It was the house equivalent of the
Marie Celeste. Everything told a story of 50 years before, when a family fled
in the dark from an untold horror. It was like a freakish museum: Everything
held in a moment in time. Undisturbed by the world rushing by outside.
Curiously, the boys forgot their initial fears and moved towards one of the
doors off the hall. Pushing it open, they revealed a musty lounge; although
without the tell-tale plasma screen TV and X-Box they struggled at first to
work out that this was the main living room for a family that had 2 growing
boys and a little girl. In the centre of the far wall was a fireplace, with
grate and hearth still encased in a thin film of soot and grime. Above it was
an ornate mirror, originally gilt and sparkling, but now dull and tarnished. In
the corner, sitting in an alcove was a large brown box. It appeared to have a
screen in it, but no other sign that it was in any way related to a modern
television set. The furniture was arranged oddly, as though they wanted to
watch the wooden box, but at the same time were used to evenings watching the
fire, talking and listening to the radio. Kev and Loz were spell bound. It was
like entering a parallel universe where everything was the same, just a couple
of degrees off.
From the living room, they walked back to the hall and tried
another door. This time they had found the dining room. An obvious assumption,
as there was a large wooden table in the centre and a sideboard along the wall
that looked as though it could carry enough plates for a full sitting in a
restaurant. At the back of this room there was another door, which they
discovered led through to the kitchen. This was totally alien. Kev had
forgotten all of his previous worries now as he opened cupboards and laughed at
the vintage food packets he unearthed, “Hey, look at this! Rice Krispies!” He
shouted over to Loz, who was trying to work out how this family has done the
washing, as he could not see anything that looked like a washing machine. “This
is weird” was the only reply Loz had. He joined in the voyage of discovery
through the cupboards and drawers, feeling a little uncomfortable that he was
going through a family’s personal belongings. He dismissed the thought, though
as he reminded himself that this family had left the house many years before
and had clearly not cared what happened to it. Suspicion and fear were the only
reasons it was preserved like a time capsule; a strange museum piece showing
ordinary life in a 1950s suburb.
As they were both caught up in opening cupboards and
bringing decades-old objects out into the light for inspection, they did not
realise how time was passing. They had already been in the house for over an
hour, but neither had a watch nor any desire to leave just yet. They had both
forgotten that this was a dare, a bet put to them both by the hardest boy in
their year at school, Jez Chandler. Jez had sworn that he had spent the night
in the house while all sorts of ghoulish things happened around him, but that
he had slept soundly and not once been bothered by the noises and apparitions
he described in detail. No one had dared tell him that his story had holes
bigger than swiss cheese, as he would not have understood the reference. Jez
was the sort of boy who ruled by brawn and attitude rather than brains and
personality. He would not even have noticed that he needed to be awake to
witness the things he had claimed to have seen… and so, he had set the
challenge to Kevin and Loz, two boys who were quiet and well behaved, but who
wanted a little of the excitement and glamour that followed Jez around like a
bad smell. Kevin had jumped on the dare, informing Loz of the time and place to
meet and convinced that this was his ticket to going to the prom with Natasha,
the girl in the year below that didn’t know he existed. Well, for now, anyway.
The intrepid pair left the kitchen and retraced their steps
into the dismal hallway. They knew what they had to do – they had to go
upstairs and see the bedrooms. For some reason this seemed much worse than just
snooping around the downstairs rooms – it seemed somehow more intimate and
prying. With a silent nod, they advanced towards the shaft of black that
denoted the way up to the first floor. Carefully, they picked their steps using
the torch to guide them, noticing that the carpet here looked almost new
beneath its protective blanket of dust. As they reached the top, the world
opened up again onto a landing with 4 doors arranged in a similar configuration
to the floor below. The door ahead led into the family bathroom: a toilet, sink
and bath in a garish shade of green. No shower, no gleaming white of a modern
bathroom. This room was dank and dreary, making Loz grateful for the brightness
of his bathroom at home, despite having to be threatened into using it. The
other rooms were bedrooms: The biggest was actually the boys’ room. This was
obvious from the toy soldiers, guns and blue covering every surface. The
furniture was simple and wooden, as were the toys. Kevin and Loz were amazed
that boys would put up with this level of deprivation, but then they did not
quite understand that the technologically advanced world they inhabited had
been a recent development. The other bedrooms were equally simplistic and
sparse, with ordered rows of clothes hung in wardrobes, labelled drawers and
some industrial-looking under garments. Kevin kept parading large pants, bras
and suspenders in front of Loz’s face as they both broke down into fits of
laughter. “This ain’t so bad!” Crowed Kevin as he found the mother’s ancient,
dusty makeup in the dresser. “Jez was making all that stuff up, he’s all talk…
we have to make up our own stories too, now!” As he was speaking, Loz became
uncomfortable. They should go. Now. His sense of urgency to leave the house
grew with each passing second. “Ok, well we can do that on the way back to
mine.” He suggested, as he turned for the door. “What? Oh, yeah, we should
really go,, I suppose.” Agreed Kevin. “Hold on.” Kevin turned to grab one of
the ridiculously exaggerated pieces of underwear. “What are you doing?” Loz was
trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “Souvenir. Got to show we really
came.” Kevin was particularly proud of this thought process. They both moved
towards the bedroom door, when they heard an almighty bang from downstairs.
To say they both jumped would be an understatement.
Kangaroos have achieved less air while bounding across deserts. Loz virtually
landed in Kevin’s arms, causing some nervous laughter from Kevin and irritation
from Loz. Neither wanted to speak. Both held their breath. They waited.
Nothing. “Maybe it was just the
door banging?” Kevin tried to breathe the words, rather than risk making
a sound. Loz just cast a look at him that his mother would call “old
fashioned”. They crept to the door and peered into the blackness. Kevin had
shut off the torch just after the sound, so the only light was that of the
milky moon, struggling to reach in through the dust-clouded panes. On the
landing, it was as dark as a cave, with the stairs showing as a slightly darker
rectangle. There was no noise. No air moved, nothing stirred. Loz was about to
allow a small sigh of relief when it struck him: no noise. Nothing. No cars
passing in the street? No cats, foxes, dogs adding their voices to the night
sky? It must be about 9pm, maybe a little later, but there would still be the
sounds of life winding down in the world outside. Where he lived, just across
the park and a few streets down, there were car doors slamming, engines revving
and children crying until way into the night. Yet here, there was a complete
absence of noise…
Kevin had obviously not thought that deeply and moved
through the door frame, switching the torch back on and illuminating the scene
on the landing. On the blank wall opposite where they stood, above the stairs
there were letters painted 40cm high in black: LEAVE NOW. “Was that there
before?” He stammered to Loz, who was still welded to the spot just inside the
bedroom door. All he could manage by way of response was a small shrug of the
shoulders. He had no idea if the writing had been there when they came
upstairs. He could not remember if they had looked at that piece of wall while
exploring the rooms up here. He could not be certain that he could remember his
name right now. Kevin swung the beam along the wall, looking for anything that
would show that this slogan had been there all along. He was not sure what he
was looking for, so instead he crept back to where Loz swayed like an oak in a
stiff breeze and grabbed him firmly by the wrist, “Let’s go.” They moved along
the landing, staring at the wall above the stairs as though scared it was going
to jump out at them. Carefully, Kevin picked out the stairs with the torch and
they steadily made their way downstairs, to the relative safety of downstairs
and the promise of freedom through the front door. As their feet found the wooden
boards of the hallway, Kevin felt Loz’s arm stiffen under his grasp, but before
he could question what had caused this renewed fear, he heard the same sound: a
muffled electronic noise coming from the lounge. It sounded like a TV set, and
as they cast their eyes towards the door, they saw lights playing under it.
Someone was in the lounge watching TV. Loz screwed his eyes shut tightly,
forcing himself to calm down and get a grip. When he opened them again,
everything would be fine and there would be no sounds or lights coming from a
dead room where there has been no electricity for 50 years.
3…2…1…
Loz bit through his lip as he opened his eyes and found the
world around him just the same as when he had closed them. But how? Kevin was
staring at him, his eyes searching for an answer that neither of them had. Nor
did they want to have. Desperate to get out of the house, they tip-toed towards
the front door. The front door that had been left ajar when the entered. The
front door that was now firmly shut and bolted. Loz made a noise that he had
only previously heard coming from a wounded cat. What was happening? Who had
shut the door? Who was in the house? Kevin’s composure also gave up at the same
time, and he pulled at the bolt, heaved the door open and dragged Loz into the
chill night air.
The moon was being hidden by the clouds now, and the world
looked dim and shadowy. The two boys ran across the road and took shelter
behind one of the bigger trees on the edge of the park. The dash had been about
150 metres at most, yet they both stood panting as though they had just run the
1500 metre final at the Olympics. Neither was ready to speak yet. Instead they
stood, waiting for their breath to return and for their hearts to stop the
escape attempt from their chests. Kevin risked a glance around the tree trunk
towards the house. The door was shut again. They had definitely left it open as
they ran for their lives… And there were still lights flickering from behind
the now drawn curtains in the lounge. As he turned to share this with Loz, he
realised that Loz was actually looking over his shoulder. “What sort of ghosts
close the curtains?” Asked Loz, back to his normal voice. “Er…?” Kevin had
actually been wondering what they were watching on a 1950s TV set, but decided
Loz’s question sounded more intelligent for now. Both agreed that any ghosts
that kept the front door shut and locked and watched TV with the curtains drawn
were not really that scary. They were not the “throw things, open a portal into
another dimension, make your granny dance with the cat” kind of ghosts and
demons that they saw in horror films.
Feeling a little calmer and more reasonable, Kevin made a
suggestion: “Let’s knock on the door”. Now, there was no way Loz was going to
believe he had just heard that, so he remained looking at Kevin as though
nothing had happened. “Well…?” Kevin was regaining his composure at an alarming
rate. Loz tried the tactic of reasoned argument: If they are ghosts, they won’t
open the door. No good, Kevin was walking back across the road towards the
house. Loz quickly caught up, wondering what on earth either of them would do
if someone answered the door… or maybe something.
Bolstered by the appearance of Loz, Kevin tapped on the
front door. “They won’t hear that”, came the helpful and bold statement from
Loz. So, Kevin knocked with more confidence and they both stood rigid as the
sound of an internal door opening and the lights from the TV set signalled that
they had been heard. A shadowy figure passed in front of the glass in the front
door, travelling quickly across the hallway to the window next to the door.
They barely glimpsed the wizened face that looked out from behind the tattered
drapes and darted back again. The shadow moved back across the floor and disappeared
behind the lounge door again, as it shut out the dancing lights.
Neither boy was sure what had just occurred, nor what they
really thought about it. Both remained facing the door, as if puzzled by its
reluctance to open. “Come on…” Kevin pulled at Loz as he left the front step
and moved towards the lounge window. He was not going to let this go now, not
when he was so close to knowing for sure what was going on in this house. The
pair sidled up to the window and peered around the frame as though expecting to
be shot at. The curtains obscured the view on this side, but there was a gap in
the middle. They moved across to the centre of the pane and squinted through
the tiniest gap into the gloomy room beyond. The room was the same as they had
seen earlier: old fashioned, dusty and very brown. The difference this time was
that the large brown box in the alcove was on, flickering light across the dark
as black and white images played across it. Loz realised he recognised the show
it was playing. “That’s The Voice!” He exclaimed in shock and excitement. Kevin
elbowed him in the ribs “shhh!” They froze as the figure in the room looked
towards the window and eased out of the chair. It was an unsteady walk to the
window, which gave the boys time to duck down and hide before the curtains were
pulled back and the same wrinkly face looked out into the night. After a couple
of moments surveying the scene, the curtains were tightly drawn together and
the boys crept off from the front of the house.
As they sipped their hot Ribena back at Loz’s house, the
boys were trying to make sense of what they had seen. Loz’s mum had at first
been a little angry that the boys were later than she had expected, but as Loz
explained their adventures and the things they had seen she became absorbed in
the history of the house and forgot any fleeting thoughts she had about
grounding him. She had insisted that Kevin call his mother straight away to
prevent her from worrying, and had even suggested that he stay the night so
that they could talk about their adventures – this was also because she knew
that Loz would be less likely to have nightmares if he had a friend there. She
sat mesmerized by the tale, only asking questions when the boys paused. As the
three of them sat there, each gave their own theory about the house and its
mysterious occupant. Kevin still insisted that is was the ghost of one of the
family that had left in the 1950s; Loz didn’t agree, but was struggling with
his own theory, and his mum thought it might be a criminal lying low away from
the law. It was at this point that Loz’s dad entered the kitchen carrying a
laptop. “I think I may have found something interesting”, he announced to the
room in general. He placed the laptop onto the kitchen table without saying
anything else. Expectantly, he waited. “What am I supposed to be seeing,
exactly?” Loz’s mum broke the spell first. She was looking at her husband with
a puzzled frown. In return he placed his finger to his lips as a sign that they
needed to be quiet a little longer. Suddenly, Loz stood up, his chair flying
back and crashing to the floor. “Laurence!” Exclaimed his mother, but the boy
was not listening. “That’s him!” Loz was waving his finger frantically at the
screen. Kevin leaned in closer to the black and white image of the vanished
family that was being displayed on the screen. “Who? Who are you pointing to?”
Loz looked up at his father to be rewarded with a knowing wink and a smile.
“You knew?” Loz asked with disbelief and a little awe. His father just gave a single
nod of his head and then signalled towards Kevin. He wanted Loz to be the one
to share the discovery; the one to take the credit. He moved the cursor on the
screen so that it highlighted a smaller image underneath the main photograph.
This one was of the reporter who had covered the disappearance of the family in
the local paper. At the time of the disappearance he had been an apprentice
reporter, just a young teenager trying to make his way in journalism. He had
investigated every lead, tried to trace the family, spoken to the police,
hospitals and even visited local mortuaries on the off-chance that someone from
the family might turn up. It became an obsession and he lost his position at
the paper because he would not cover anything else. He followed the story for
years until he too disappeared sometime in the 1970s. Kevin stared,
open-mouthed at the image of that man. It was him. The old man from the house;
the one they had been terrified by – the journalist trying to find out what
happened to the missing family.
As they eventually made their way to bed, the boys still had
so many questions that needed answering, but Loz’s parents insisted that they
all needed some sleep. On his way upstairs, Loz turned to his dad and asked the
question that had been annoying him since the laptop had been brought into the
kitchen: “But…how did you know? And why wait until after we went to the house?”
His father looked him in the eye and winked, “There are some things you have to
find out for yourself.”
