Family Communication

Martha pressed down on the gas pedal a little bit harder. She was running late again, and she knew her daughter, Kelly, would be home alone in that big, scary house again. Kelly was old enough and mature enough, but she never felt comfortable living in her great- great grandmother’s old and creepy house. Martha, like her great-grandmother, grandmother and mother, was single mother. All of them were strong independent women who raised their children in the old house. Kelly would be no different.

On the days that Martha was late, she would walk into the house and find Kelly sitting on the floor in a corner. Kelly’s knees were drawn to her chest arms wrapped tightly around them. She would be sobbing and trembling uncontrollably. Martha thought about the past times she was late and how it affected Kelly. She depressed the gas pedal even more as she thought about all the times, she was affected the same way when she was a child. She remembered her mother telling her that the house was a little scary, but she would get used to it. She thought about all the times she told Kelly the exact same line. She pressed down on the pedal even more, paying no attention to the speedometer. The needle was touching eighty now.

Martha’s thoughts strangely turned to the old house itself. There were parts of the original log cabin. Then there was the obvious add-ons. Three of them, each dating the period that the add-on was completed. The house has rooms that Martha never knew why they were built. She walked on a dirt floor, shag carpet and fine stone tiles every day without changing buildings. She often felt, however, like she was changing buildings.

There are radios, televisions and telephones located all over the house. Some from the time each form of communication was invented. In the oldest room. The small room with hewn log walls and rock-hard dirt for a floor, there was even an old, dusty telegraph machine. The bare wires are still attached to the machine and the metal studs extending from the wall.

Before she realized it, Martha was speeding down her driveway. She barely got the car stopped before it would have slammed into the house. She gripped the steering wheel tightly as she took several deep breaths. She slowly regained her composure and noticed that dims light was emitting from the windows in rooms that she did not use. Her blood ran ice cold and her face flushed pale as she realized what was happening. Her thoughts turned to her childhood and when it happened to her. She shed a few tears as she thought that, surely Kelly was too young. That feeling did not last long.

Martha’s face turned to stone as she exited her car. She looked somewhat evil and yet resolved to do what must come next. She could hear Kelly laughing as four different voices are telling her stories. Some voices sound old and frail as a couple seemed young and vibrant. All the voices, however, could be heard and understood. The stories are of death and terror. Revenge is the dominant theme.

When Martha opened the door, she saw Kelly watching five different televisions at once. On the screens are images of people from different period screaming in pain. Mothers are yelling for their missing children. Men shouting out that it burns as flamed engulfed them.

Kelly was also talking on three different phones. One phone was an old candle stick phone. Kelly shouted into the mouthpiece, “I saw that old granny”. She laughed as the conversations continued.

To make sure this was really happening, Martha looked at the electrical and phone outlets. She smiled as she saw that nothing was plugged in to a power source. It was really happening. Kelly would learn the family history completely at only fifteen years old. Martha shook her head as she heard the clicking of the telegraph. She ran to the old room without speaking Kelly. She entered the room and listened to the clicks. She smiled and started tapping the transmitter. Dust and cobwebs rose from the machine as Martha typed her message. “You are right oldest granny. She is ready”.

Martha walked through the house towards her bedroom. She could feel the changes as she passed through the different sections of the house. She could also feel the agape love for her and Kelly as well the cruel, bitter and absolute hate for all others living in their community. Martha reached into a nook in her room and removed two black robes from their hooks. They were old and dusty. It was clear that they had not been moved in many years. Martha returned to Kelly who was still watching and listening to stories told by the voices. She held up the robes and shouted “Grannies! It is time to tell the story to Kelly”.

Everything went silent as Televisions from different eras line up under their own power. Four televisions lined up in a row in order of production year. The televisions with legs walked into position. The others floated to their assigned post.

The first television turned on and loud, white noise came from the speaker. The fuzz on the screen slowly cleared to show a very old woman with white thin hair. She had several scares on her face. Her eyes were sunken and the unscarred portions of her face was gray. The clothes she wore looked like clothing worn a very long time ago. She smiled displaying worn teeth, some worn down to her gum line. “My name is Adelaide” she said.

“Kelly. I am your great, great, great grandmother. I was accused of witchcraft and subversively conspiring with the devil. They ripped my fifteen-year-old daughter, Annie, from my arms and brought me here, at the spot this house is built on, tied me to stakes that were already driven in the ground. I realized my trial had already taken place and I was found guilty. They made my Annie watch as they tied me to the stakes with my back flat to the ground. A man was smiling as he poured whale oil on me and lit his match. “Curse you old witch” he said as he dropped his match on my torso. “It took many minutes to die as I lay screaming and burning. Annie was forced to watch as I died. She was then passed from home to home as she did not fit in anywhere and no one really wanted her”. The scenes of all this played out on the television as Adelaide told her story.

Adelaide’s face then turned powerful and serious. She then told the rest of the story. “While they were wrong for burning me, they were right in that I am a witch. A very powerful witch. My screams were not in pain. They were my curses placed on this ground and people who burned me. The curse will never go away. Every generation and every offspring of those that burned me are subject to the curse. It will find them! They also did not know that I had already taught Annie everything. She was as powerful as I ever was” she said as she smiled in contentment.

The television went dark and the second one turned on in the same fashion. Another old woman appeared. “Kelly. I am your great, great grandmother, Annie.” she said. “I picked up my burned mother and moved her bones and ashes. I dug a hole at the spot where they burned her. I returned her ashes and bones and cover her with the scorched earth. Then I build the cabin that started this house where we all still dwell”.

“I began casting the spells on the people who burned my mother. The spells helped to carry out her curse. The whole time I am still talking to my mother through meditation and my enchanted crystal. We planned together each torture, each death and each lost child. As mother often said,” They can never pay enough”. I eventually met a man unrelated to the curse. We had a daughter, Cora. The man left us when she was born. That would soon become our families curse”. The television again showed scenes as the stories were told. Men being ripped apart in farming incidents, gun accidents and outright murder. Women having their limbs crushed with new machines designed to make housework easier. Children falling into wells or devoured by animals. Annie finished speaking with “I also added to the house. A tribute to my mother. Never change the old, build for the future. I also went one step farther than death. I took their souls. I brought them here and made them power this house. They are forced to provide the energy needed to power these contraptions we speak through. We save our power to have our revenge”.

The second television went out and the third came on in the same manner. A younger more modern woman appeared. “Kelly. I am your great grandmother, Cora”.  “I also added rooms to this house. Adding new without changing the old. I continued following the curse as it led me to descendants of those who burned our ever-powerful matriarch, Adalaide. I continued to steal souls and bring them here to power this house. Young and old, it does not matter. They can never pay enough. I watched their eyes turn black and hopeless as I ripped their souls from them just before death. The joy of revenge is overpowering and never gets old”. Again, scenes of incredible violence and death played on the screen as Cora told her stories. She finished the story of her daughter, Samantha. “I met my daughter, Samantha’s father in the city. He said he loved me and would find me after he finished his time in the Army. I never saw him again and Samantha never met her father”.

The third television turned off, and the fourth one came on. It was much more modern, but the white noise and fuzzy screen were still present. A face that Kelly recognized appeared. It was Sam, Kelly’s grandmother. Her funeral was just a month or so ago. “Kelly. I am Samantha, your grandmother. I watched you as you cried at my funeral. Thank you for your love. I continued tracing the offspring of those that burned our poor Adalaide. I used my spells and the curse to make them suffer greatly. I wrecked cars and planes and sank ships to make them pay. I to took their souls and imprisoned them in this house. They will provide us with power to talk and see one another as a family forever. They could never pay enough for what they did. I met your grandfather the night before he left for war”. He never came home. Scenes of crashes and war and violent, painful death moved across the screen as Samantha told her stories.

The fourth television turned dark and Martha moved next to it. She laid one of the robes on the television and dawned the other. She tied the belt tightly around her waist. “Kelly I am Martha, your mother”. “I too have carried on with our revenge for what they did to our dear sweet and loving ancestor, Adalaide. When I was late coming home to you, it was because I had to travel a great distance to follow the curse, cause terrible death and steal the souls of the offspring of those that burned Adalaide. I too have added to this house. Moving towards the future without changing the past. I do not know your father as I never approved of what he did to me. He left and was never caught. It is time for you to learn. We are counting on you to carry on. If our faith in you is not in vain, then stand and dawn this robe”. Martha picked up the robe and handed it to Kelly as she stood to receive it. Kelly put the robe on and secure the belt around her waist. All the grannies reappeared on the televisions and all the women said together, “They can never pay enough!”.

The people of the town, now modern and oblivious to the past and the curse, go on about their daily lives. They have no idea that those creeks in the house is not the settling of the house. It is the curse and one of the daughters walking through the house looking for the offspring that must still pay. Are you an offspring? Am I an offspring? Does our homes sometimes creek even though it might be built on a concrete slab? Does the name Adelaine cause uneasiness to overtake us? Do we have to pay?