The Guests

“Hey, should we tell some scary stories tonight?”

I was looking out the window, not really paying attention to my brother or the rest of the family as the moon appeared. The snow was incredibly deep around our cabin, and there was not much else we could do. Quite a beautiful sight, really.

“Stories?”

“Yes, why not? We should try to maybe share some good stories and let this weather pass.”

“It isn’t going away.” My wife, wiser than all of us, knew that this was the truth. At this time of the year, the snow would be deep and heavy and no one would be coming by to interrupt or check up on us. Not so much worried about the cold, my Anna. And neither was I. Not much point to it.

“Okay, let’s get the others and tell some tales.”

My wife laughed, as did my idiot brother who had brought his entire family with him. I kept looking out the window as I heard them take their seats on the sofa that never got replaced, in front of the fireplace and coffee table that was still there (even same magazines, I noticed). There were no lights on out there on the highway. No traffic passing our way. We would have the cabin to ourselves.

“Uncle Dan, you want to begin?”

My nephew, as usual, was asking a question that he already knew the answer to; he would always want to begin with his talk about goblins and demons or whatever else he had read about before we got here; a real sadness about that one.

“No, Rudy. You know that you are gonna go first.”

He grinned. His little sister, Tania, was his best audience. Not even his father and mother – dear Louisa – were ever as eager with their turns. They would always let him go first.

“Why’d you always go first?”

“You don’t wanna, twerp!”

“Maybe I do…”

It all reminded me of the relationship I had with my brother and how things never really seemed to change. They were almost at each other’s throats but no one really tried to pull them apart. Tan had about five years on her brother and was already quite good with arm twists and pin downs. But she would not get physical tonight. She knew that her brother was the champ here. A little sad, really…

“Well?”

She dropped down on the couch and stared at him. “Just go.”

And he began.

Now, I should have expected the same story as before, but this one was a really interesting change. More goblins, of course, but there was a deeper line here. I should have mentioned that I loved to read fantasy and horror and knew the good from the bad. My nephew, also a serious fan (my fault?), really knew how to create his story. I even moved away from the window to hear him. Rudy told his story carefully and had an interesting way of drawing up his conclusion.

“Not bad, my Rude.”

“Thank, Uncle Dan.”

So it started for another night. What I always loved about these turns was the fact that we all took a chance and told our tales. My brother would have some story that he thought was so original but ended up being something we all heard ages ago, even his kids. If we were polite about it, we would not say a word about this. Tonight, he got away with something that I knew from our youth. It was a story about a neighbour of ours who tried to get away with a crime and ended up being arrested for stealing his neighbour’s underwear (our home had remained untouched; Ms. Sellers’ dresser was not so safe).

“C’mon, Steve, that was never the case.”

“Dear, dear Anna, it is all true. Ask your sad sack of a husband about it.”

“He is finally telling the truth, my dear. All true.”

My wife knew that it was her turn next, but this was not really her talent. Anna loved flowers, music (classical, jazz, and what people now call “world”), travel, food (better cook than my brother’s Lisa) and skiing; one of the reasons why we are here tonight; she still feels responsible for us.

“Oh, god, let me tell one…”

Louisa was not a patient woman, but I understood why my brother was with her. She had energy, beauty and enough tolerance to put up with his nonsense and two children that would drain anyone else of all their strength and stamina. Her story was one that I had never heard before; a tale from a childhood I barely knew. Maybe I should not talk too much about it, but it was all about the local boys, puberty, and deep misunderstandings about what the body was capable of when your brain is still growing.

“Gross, mom!”

“And true. You think that things are any different now, chipmunk?”

She knew that her daughter hated that word. Tan wasn’t burdened with the braces anymore, but she still felt that her teeth gave her story away. She was a beautiful young girl – I mean, lady – who wanted to be seen as one. And honestly, she was my favourite of the two.

“Come on, niece of mine, ignore her and tell us a piece.”

We were all on the couch, staring up at her as she stood in front of the fireplace and began to gesture and talk. This was my favourite part of the night. She came up with original pieces every single time, so you knew that you would be entertained. Tan was telling a tale about a group of girls who travelled in the woods of an imaginary town and the adventures they faced. She even had names and personalities in place and you felt as if you had lived with them through their whole lives. We were hooked; we were looking forward to her conclusion. She danced, jumped, hopped and yelled as the ladies faced their great challenges.

And then she knocked over a photo.

Let me explain: the fireplace had a set of photos set up from one family member to the next. My niece had managed to knock over a family portrait and it hit the thick carpet under her feet. At least it had not shattered. But you could hear it fall. We knew what this meant.

“For Pete’s sake…”

We all sat still on the couch. My niece knew exactly what was going to happen next and ran over to sit next to me. And we all stayed quiet as the upstairs door to the main bedroom opened.

“Honey, just don’t…”

“Didn’t I say that there was something weird about this place? Didn’t I say that?”

They both came down the stairs, walking into the living room in their pajamas and housecoats. Her name was Susan and he was David. Their child, happily asleep, was…Laura. That still made me smile. And her parents were staring at the photograph.

“See, it just fell down. No ghosts or demons around.” He picked it up and replaced in on the fireplace.

“You know what people say about this place right. A whole family froze out there and they found them out there after a week.”

“Yes, we all know. And we also know that we got this place cheap for the winter, right?”

She kept looking around. I noticed how she stared at the couch while he spoke.

“I know, but…”

“Can’t really go anywhere right now, anyway. Remember the weather report. At least another day of this cold and they still have to clear the snow.”

He walked up behind her and hugged her. We also noticed how she shivered for a moment and looked past us.

“Right. Right. Still, I feel…”

“We all do. It was a terrible thing. Ten years now and they still talk about it. Let’s go to bed.”

They hugged, and it is strange to say it, perhaps, but it was a very sweet moment. It was almost like a story.

When they finally went upstairs, my niece began to cry.

“What’s up?”

“I’m so sorry! This is my fault.”

“No way, chip…kiddo.” Steve walked over to her and picked her up with a hug. “Just an accident.”

Another sweet moment for all of us.

Tania wiped her face and smiled (no problem with those teeth). “Hey, whose turn is it?”

They all knew.

“Uncle Dan! You have one?”

I stood up, stared at my very eager nephew, my amazing niece, my brother and his wife, and my own beautiful partner.

“I think I do.”

I stood in front of the fireplace, staring out through the windows as they all leaned forward and waited for me to begin.

“Listen…”

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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