PLEASE MR. OUIJA - pt 3

PLEASE MR. OUIJA – pt 3

 Who did that?

 **

 There is a quiet house and then, there is a quiet house. Even when John lived home, he didn’t speak much, unless he was screaming at the boys. But when he wasn’t in a foul mood, the house was quiet. Now that he’d been gone for a number of months, the house seemed quieter – if that’s even possible. This might sound strange, but his breathing took up space and there was now a soundless void.

 The biggest change was the peace. Except for the pre-teen squabble between siblings, the house was peaceful. Okay, so almost peaceful.

 “Mom, I need to run next door. Pete needs to borrow a book. He left his at school.” Ken and Pete were best friends and always relied on each other for everything.

 “Okay, but don’t be long; you still have to finish your homework.”

 I watched him leave as Jim came into the kitchen for a glass of milk.

 “Oh, for heaven’s sake. That kid! He left his radio on. Jim, do me a favor and to turn it off.”

 Jim placed his glass on the kitchen table and walked towards Ken’s room. As he reentered the kitchen, I noticed his face was a bit pale.

 “Jim, what’s wrong. Don’t you feel well?”

 “Uh, mom.” I could see something was really bothering him.

 “Jim, sit down and tell me what’s wrong.” His pallor had me worried.

 “Ken didn’t leave his radio on. I checked your room and your radio was off, too. The TV is off. There’s nothing in this house making those sounds.”

 And yet we heard the conversation. Or almost the conversation. While we heard the voices, we couldn’t make out the words. It was like two people speaking through pillows, but the voices were undeniable. Suddenly, we heard what seemed like glass breaking, a woman screaming, and a baby crying. The last sound was a door that seemed to slam hard enough to rattle the walls.

 Then it was quiet. Too quiet.

 Jim whispered, “Mom, you heard that too, right?”

“Yeah, I did.”

 I grabbed two sharp knives from the draw and handed one to my ten-year-old. “Stay here. If anyone comes near you, well, you know what to do and don’t hesitate. I’ll be right back.”

 “Mom, we should stick together. Strength in numbers, remember?”

 I sighed, wanting nothing more than to protect my son but he had a point.

 “Okay, then, before Ken gets back, let’s start with the cellar.

 The dog, ironically slept through the turmoil but snapped alert and growled as we opened the cellar door.

 “Cocoa, stay! Guard the doors.” She stood at attention and her eyes moved from the front door to the back.

 Jim and I slowly descended the old wooden steps.

 To say that I barely breathed isn’t saying nearly what I felt but, I needed to secure the house, so down the steps we went.

 At the bottom of the stairs, we turned on the light in the laundry room and saw – nothing unusual.

 We proceeded towards the larger room, and as I flipped the light switch, again we saw nothing odd.

 Walking through that room, we headed to the storage room that was almost empty. I never had much to store, anyway, but again, nothing.

 The final room was the workroom.

 My ex-husband wasn’t handy, so we didn’t have many tools. What I had were things my dad had given me, because, as he would say, “just in case.”

 I turned on that light and again, saw nothing out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, Jim, cellar is clear. Let’s turn out the lights and check upstairs.”

 As we approached the stairs, we felt an icy wind that seemed to blow right through us. “Mom, I think we’re going to have to reseal the cellar walls. Looks like we’re heading for an early winter.”

 “Good idea.”

In the kitchen, Jim was rubbing his arms to regain some warmth. “Yeah, Jim, it was a bit chilly down there, wasn’t it?”

 “Chilly? Mom, chilly doesn’t even come close.”

 I knew I’d have to eke out enough money for the amount of paint I’d need to coat the entire cellar. My boys and I could do the labor, but the proper sealant wasn’t cheap.

 As Jim and I searched each room for a hint of what we didn’t even know what to look for, Ken came home.

 “Mom, why are all the lights on? Trying to support the electric company?” Ken always had a weird sense of humor.

 Then he looked more closely at his brother’s face.

 “Mom, what happened?”

 Without so much as a flicker of warning, all the lights went out, and the echo of laughter was eerie, unnerving, and completely sinister.

 As quickly as the lights went out, they came back on. My bedroom door slammed, then rattled.

 Then it went quiet. Very, very quiet.

 We didn’t know if we should breathe a sigh of relief, or pack up and run – but run where? The boys had school the next day; I had a job; we had little money; we had nowhere to go.

 “Mom?” Jim looked at me fearfully but didn’t know what to ask or how.

 I walked to the middle of the room and screamed, “Enough! Leave us alone. We live here, too.”

 I can’t say my outburst had an effect but the gloom in the house but while it made me feel better, it also seemed to lift a bit – until Ken whispered the question I hadn’t yet thought of.

 “Mom, could this have anything to do with that stupid Ouija board?”