Moodus

Dad finally kicked the bucket.

It was a long time coming, and I had already grieved the person he should have been. It was a relief, really. He'd long since given up on living, though his body refused to give in till years later.

Let's just say his opinions on what is important in life and relationships, and what's important to me, are quite different. I was the typical move-out-at-eighteen type, while Golden Child stayed at home and siphoned my parents dry.

So the lawyer telling me my brother got the family home was no surprise. I'd gotten my stuff, and anything I wanted, out of that house a long time ago. It was pretty easy. I only visited if I brought some good booze. When they were out cold, I took what I wanted. They only noticed half the time, and they didn't care much.

So I was rather surprised when a second house was named, on a plot of land, that no one had ever mentioned before. And it was now mine, free and clear.

In Moodus.

Yeah, that one.

I didn't have to look it up, though I could see darling brother drunkenly stabbing away at his cell phone to check. I used to read those safe-for-kids (hah!) creepy stories about history's mysteries as a kid.

Of course, darling brother pitched a fit as soon as he realized I was basically inheriting a castle. That we'd never heard of. Or visited.

Cue the scary music?

I was done with his tantrums, so I walked out. Brother couldn't decide whether to follow me or yell at the lawyer, and chose the latter as the better bet. I was kind of figuring what would happen next, and sure enough, the lawyer called a few days later. Contesting the will, brother wanted the castle, demanded to go out and see his property, blah blah. Typical.

What surprised me is how reluctant the lawyer was about it. He didn't want to go there, and didn't want me to go either. Definitely not alone. Would prefer to switch properties, really. No, really. Please. Really.

Well, now I'm curious. Yes, I know, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

I was looking for satisfaction now.

But getting brother out there? Oh, look, not my circus, not my llama. I tossed that problem off on the lawyer, catch!

Of course GoldBro dragged his lazy heels. Of course he kept cancelling. If he thought I'd fold like our parents used to, he's got another think coming.

And the lawyer lost patience, so of course the date that stuck was midsummer.

Not my Lammas, either. Sorry, can't resist the pun. I know, wrong date, whatever. Still funny.

Anyway, back to midsummer. I drove myself, though I was in constant communication with the lawyer, driving GoldBro. I like that nickname, I think I'll keep it. Lawyer poured GoldBro into his own Mercedes, and was driving slow, and threatening instant death if GoldBro so much as turned green in his patent leather car.

They would get to Moodus late. I'd been there a while, drinking cold coffee in my car.

It was a ghost town.

Moodus had been abandoned the night that the Moodus noises drove everyone out when... oh, my dad would have been a kid then.

Hunh. Well, that explained a few things, if he was there for it.

I don't live in Connecticut, but I did marry one from that state. You can laugh at Windham all you like, but after Moodus, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that a pond full of frogs calling for mates would drive them in a panic from town. Sure, Windham's residents were laughed back into town, but they legit thought it was a real attack. Colonials in an unknown land, with hostile forces, and Moodus' citizens already complaining about the noise levels.

Moodus? Well, no one knows, though scientists suspect an active fault line that causes the strange noises. And of course, us arrogant white people, had to build at that exact spot because what do stupid natives know about their own land?

Talk to the people of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, about how ignoring natives works sooo well for ya. Or Chicago, for that matter.

I remember reading those mystery books under my bed sheets by dim flashlight, getting shivers from the unknown.

It looked pretty peaceful, now. But it was also devoid of people.

I'd talked to my husband, and he mentioned his best friend who still lived back home. Bestie and some others dared each other to go out and investigate, one moon-dark night. Off they went, and they only got within sight of the buildings at dusk when a disembodied voice bellowed GET OUT in their ears, and they took off at top speed and never went back.

Great. Happy homecoming to me...

I was getting hungry. I pulled out and went to a gas station one town over, that had a built-in deli. Talked to the clerk. Oh, she knew I was local, because of the shape of my face. So someone had to have died recently, because the only time someone visits Moodus in daytime is for checking out their inheritance. She was seriously worried, and begged me to leave before sundown.

I checked my watch. It would be close, but it could be done.

As I drove back, dark clouds moved in, and it started to rain.

Great. More delay.

I waited, ate, drank hot coffee poured from a fresh carafe at the store. Surprisingly good brew. It was a warm day, and the rain wasn't cooling the place like I expected. The fog rose dramatically.

Lovely.

It was a small forever before the Mercedes nosed through the fog bank, and parked next to me on the weedy “road.” A key I'd never seen before was produced, and surprisingly still fit in a lock that shouldn't have opened that easily.

Though the shriek that came from the hinges was enough to make up for it.

GoldBro had just enough sobriety to hesitate. The heavy stone archways loomed, the lintels glared. I could feel the force that wanted us out of there.

Well, no, not quite. It wanted them gone. It wanted me to stay. Forever.

Fat chance. I have a life, thanks all the same.

And GoldBro looked like he was having serious second thoughts. Maybe third or fourth ones.

The place was empty. Walls, floor, ceiling, windows. No furniture, rugs, nada. All doors open, leading to more rooms, all stripped. Kinda weird, really. If they fled and never returned, who cleaned this place out?

I thought about the very heavy furniture in our childhood “home.”

I ended up with the other two in front of the fireplace in what looked like a central hall. I finally spoke – had anyone said a word since we crossed the threshold? “Are you finally satisfied? Can you let it go now? I'm done with this, and I want to go home.”

SLAM!

We heard the front door lock itself, in the echoes of that hell-raising SLAM.

And the ghosts appeared.

It was like the fog followed us in, and congealed into people, glaring at us.

GoldBro gulped, and his face lost all color. He suddenly looked very, very, sober.

He was also much older than me, and knew family that was gone long before I was in the picture. He recognized faces, and muttered, “Aunt Myrna... Grandfather Eddie... Cousin Ted...”

Dad was sitting at the table. He pointed at me. “You. You're staying with us. Your brother's already mine. I willed this place to you, to bring you home.”

I laughed. “Fat chance. I divorced this 'family' years ago. Stick it up your arse.”

He roared, and flew at me. No, flew, really.

And bounced off an invisible wall.

The lawyer was backing away, and took my elbow. We retreated as the rest of the ghosts flew at us. I heard GoldBro wail as he was swarmed, but they couldn't touch me or the lawyer as we withdrew to the locked door.

The key worked again, mercifully. Cold iron, I think.

We were out. GoldBro was not, and it was rather clear we weren't able to help.

Outside, we raced to our cars, and took off.

I put the property into a trust. My kids won't get pulled into that nonsense. My “family” can stay there forever. I sold the other property when my brother was never seen again.

How did the lawyer and I get out?

We have smart spouses who know a bit about the old ways. Each had given us a rock from our respective back yards, to put in our pocket, to use as reminder and shield that our lives are elsewhere, not in that town.

Yes, I saw the news.

The noises are back. Louder than ever.