Let's Play in the Garden (4 page)

They broke from walking fast to full-fledged running. They could hear the footsteps behind them growing faster and more determined. The two buddies continued to run, dodging logs, fighting the outstretched tree branches and brush, splashing through muddied rivers, running blindly, not knowing where to run, not knowing where they would end up.

Then Mark noticed that the footsteps had ceased. They were no longer being pursued. “Stop. Tom, stop. He stopped chasing us.”

They paused, sweat streaming down their faces, breath short and fear germinating.

“W-where did he go?” Tom rambled.

They searched about. The forest was again quiet and it seemed that they were now alone. “W-where could he have gone?” asked Tom. “H-he was right behind us. I heard him!”

“Who cares? It just shows how tough he really was. He was outnumbered and he knew it. Coward!”  

“Stop it, you idiot. Let’s just go before he comes back.”

“He won’t come back. He’s a stinking coward!”

They turned to continue on when a swift jab out of nowhere stopped Mark cold. A spade plunged deep into his stomach, blood sprayed thick and heavy as he gasped for air. His face twisted with agony and his mouth hung agape before he went down.

“Mark!” Tom screamed, watching Mark writhe on the ground, his voice nothing but a gurgle.

Tom looked up from his best friend and met the emotionless eyes of the hulking murderer who was brandishing the bloodstained spade. His eyes widened. He stumbled as he turned, and without thought or destination, just hurled himself into the wilderness.

The spade launched into the air and whistled toward its target with all the force of a freight train. It struck Tom square in the back of the neck. He screeched once before collapsing to the ground.

The slayer took hold of Tom and dragged him to the first kill. Blood trailed from one body to the other, and the animals were already investigating the spillage. Furious, the killer chased the animals away. He laid the bodies out side by side and inspected them.

Hiding the spade away, the killer just stared as the forest came alive with scavengers.

###

“No!” She sprang from her bed as if it had just come to life. Her brow was soaked with sweat, as was her pillow.

A dream, Merydith, that’s all…just a dream
.

She got out of bed and collected herself. Merydith had strange dreams now and then. She could never quite make sense of them. They were always just bits and pieces. This one she couldn’t even remember, yet it caused her to wake up screaming.

She ran her fingers through her damp hair, pushing it away from her eyes. She wandered over to her window, the one with the view of the garden, and opened it to let the night air sweep in. The cool air was just enough to relax her.

She stared out into the garden, the tips of the trees swaying in a struggling breeze. The wall stood strong and silent, powerful like a guardian. A shadow wriggled against the trees. It was large and deformed, oddly shaped. Suddenly she heard rustling bushes and trees. It wasn’t the wind.

What was that? Did someone penetrate the garden from the outside? Grandpa will be furious.

She watched as the trees shimmered a final time and began to settle. The shadow faded out of sight. Merydith leaned halfway out the window and strained to see over the wall.

“Hey! Who’s out there?” she called with a firm voice.

Merydith couldn’t tolerate trespassers. “My grandfather owns a shotgun. So you’d better climb out of there while you still have both your arms.”

Nothing stirred.

She hoped her warning would be heeded; she knew all too well Simon wouldn’t hesitate to pull out his old shotgun.

“Merydith, Tobey, Aaron! Supper!” Marion’s voice was loud yet warm. Grandmother had finally finished the evening’s dinner. With hunger in their bellies, the children filed down. Merydith closed her window tightly, and after gazing at the garden and its walls one last time, started downstairs.

Tobey and Aaron were ahead of her, as always, so she knew that neither of them had been playing in the garden. So who was?

They rumbled down the last flight of stairs in a thunder of racing footsteps. “Slow down, you two. You’ll fall and break your necks,” Merydith called, her instincts kicking in yet again.

They ignored her as they raced each other to the kitchen. Merydith joined them all at the table, except for Grandpa; he had not come up from the workshop yet.

“Want me to tell Grandpa that it’s dinnertime?” asked Aaron.

Gladys just smiled and patted his head with her hand.

“Now you know none of us ever goes down there, Aaron. You watch. This is how we get Grandpa’s attention, sweetie.” She walked over to the corner of the kitchen and pulled a long brass chain that slithered out of a small hole in the wall. In the distance, the faint sound of a jingling bell could be heard.

She returned to her seat at the table and smiled, eyes squinting and the wrinkles tightening at the corners of the mouth. “Now, watch—Grandpa Simon will be up any moment now.”

Sure enough, through the door Simon walked, scratching his belly playfully and yawning. “Dinnertime already, Mother?”

“Well, it is that time of day, you know. So let’s get to it,” she said.

Aaron laughed with an amazed look in his eyes. “Next time can I ring the string, Grandma?” Everyone at the table laughed at his innocence and beauty.

“Why, you certainly may,” she chirped as his face blushed.

In no time at all a tender pork roast was devoured, the table was strewn with empty plates and glasses, and all the stomachs at the table were quite full.

It was now a quarter to seven. Gladys always planned dinner for around six, but sometimes Simon’s experiments threw her off-schedule. With dinner over it was time to return the kitchen to normal. A sink full of dishes still sat from the cooking of the meal.

“Come on, Gladys,” Marion said with a weary sigh. “Let’s get the kitchen back into shape. You can run along now, children. Grandma and I have to clean up.”

The boys were only too happy to comply. “We’ll be out front, Momma!” called Tobey as they flung the brittle door open, its hinges creaking loudly.

“Be in when it gets dark, boys,” she called after them.

Merydith decided to join Grandpa in the family room. It had a TV, the only TV in the house. It was where the family would gather to watch together on special occasions like informative documentaries, children’s shows, or old classic movies.

The room also had a bookcase full of books—children’s books, dictionaries, encyclopedias, old classics by Mark Twain, Charles Dickens and Ernest Hemingway. Merydith decided to see what was on TV while Simon was more interested in his pipe and a good book.

“We’ll be in the family room. Allow me to lead the way, my lady,” Simon said to Merydith.

“Why certainly, sir.” She mustered an elegant tone as they walked arm in arm.

###

The night wound down and all activities were done for the day. Now the family would cleanup and relax. The house grew quiet, and the sound of dishes climbing back to their cabinets and the pulsing hum of the TV drifted back through the house as if they were the only sounds in the world. Sometimes at night, when all was quiet, subtle noises could be heard, as if scores of fairies played and gallivanted throughout the house—at least, Merydith fancied it that way.

The garden slept as it eagerly awaited the return of the sun. Deep down, the entire house waited to be filled once again by that golden drug.

4. Visitor

Darkness clung to the property like a second kin. Everyone and everything slept, even the garden. It stood silent and ominous. It was ancient and wise, and it knew secrets. The family all knew this to be true. All one had to do was stand in the garden and listen.

A visitor traveled through the garden this night, infiltrating the precious defenses that had been constructed by Simon. The garden welcomed it, whatever or whoever it was, for it made no cry for help, and it did not quiver with fear. The house attracted the stranger. It saw the oddly shaped abode as it peered above the great spiked wall. It thrust the gate aside and stammered forth, clumsily, determinedly, with a burning curiosity.

###

The rooms sat dead, devoid of all sound and light, empty of life. The bedrooms above contained the sleeping caretakers, occupants and adventurers. Merydith tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find the right position. Again her face was soaked with sweat and her nightgown was on the verge of becoming damp. She whined and turned as a subtle feeling of terror began to shiver through her, building and building until—

She unleashed a yelp. It was short and unheard by anyone except to Merydith herself. She jerked and sat up.
Again with the dreams?
She stroked her head and skimmed the room with her eyes.

The faces of her dolls stared at her as if they knew what was going on but refused to tell her. The more she stared at them, the harsher their faces became. The dolls took on the look of spite and maliciousness. Eyes glared and smiles were crooked slashes across alabaster faces. Merydith began to fear them for the first time. She tore her eyes away from them and stared at her bedroom door. Why did it seem that at any moment it would burst open and a stranger would rush in to harm her? Her flesh crawled.

She inhaled once and slowly exhaled. Her sweat was close to dry now. “It would help if I just closed my eyes and went to sleep.”  

A crashing sound shot her theories into oblivion as she clutched the bed covers, her hands trembling. It came from downstairs, one quick smash against the house.

Was I the only one who heard it?
She tried to lift her legs from her bed but they felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds. The pain coursing in them did its best to keep her from getting up.

A second crash.

It sounded angry, but this time it came from a different direction of the house. She hurled herself from her bed.

Footsteps could be heard pattering about the hall and stairs in a frenzy. She knew something was definitely up.

Merydith eased her door open to peer out into a darkness blacker than the night outside. Cold fear swept through her body, along with an admittedly slight feeling of excitement. She held the door tight despite her jittery hand. It was only a crack but it was just enough to see what was going on.

A glimpse of her grandfather and mother scurrying down the stairs flashed by her. She’d never seen them move so fast. Merydith turned her glance right and saw her two brothers as curious as she was standing in their doorway. Their faces were masks of fear. The smashes were enough to wake them out of a deep sleep and scare the hell out of them.

All three heard voices, muffling, mumbling, fear-filled voices. A final third crash resounded behind the house, by the garden, accompanied by a terrible, wailing moan that shook the house with its pitch. All eyes followed the moan as it filled the air. Merydith shivered to the point of almost collapsing.  

Squeals escaped her brothers as they slammed their door tight.

Merydith waited, heard a commotion downstairs along with the front door slamming a few times before finally locking securely. Voices carried upstairs as Simon, Gladys and Marion entered the hallway.

Merydith’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she noticed a look of grave concern on their faces. They stopped to talk and she listened intently.

“Why would someone try to break in here?” Marion asked, clearly disheveled.

“We don’t know if that was their objective,” Simon answered her. “I really don’t know what it was. I’ll get a better look at the house in the morning.”

“Perhaps they were vandals, Simon,” Gladys said as her voice cracked. She tried valiantly to remain calm.

“Why come all the way out here to do it? We’re in the middle of nowhere. Who’d be out here? We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open. I don’t want any trouble. I’ve got too much to lose.”

“You don’t think that—” Gladys’s voice changed in tone. There was deep-rooted fear in it. Her eyes had gone emotionless.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Simon cut her off. His eyes were fierce. “Don’t ever speak of it. You know that’s something we all swore to forget. It’s impossible so don’t ever bring it up again.”

Merydith had never heard her grandfather get so mad.
What is Grandma talking about? What could really be that bad
?

A strange silence came over the adults as they stood and stared at one another. Merydith’s imagination and curiosity was inflamed. Her house and family seemed to guard many secrets.

If only Grandma had finished. What’s really going on here? I need to know who I am, who they are, and what really is in this house.

“I just want to check on the kids before I go to bed,” Marion said, breaking the silence and telegraphing a warning Merydith’s way. She knew what she was hearing was not for her ears, but she couldn’t help herself.

Merydith shut her door softly and felt herself drawn to her window. She had precious little time to be looking out her window before her mother came in, but for a moment she pulled her shade back to look outside and take note of the garden gate slowly shutting. Whoever it was, he was still in the garden
. But who?
Her bedroom doorknob slowly turned and she darted back to the bed in a flash.

Her mother quietly looked in on her, and, sensing all was safe, shut the door again, bathing the room in darkness.

How can I possibly return to sleep now?

She lay there, staring into the darkness, wondering. This was the first time something like this had ever happened.

She rose from her bed and went to her window again. Everything was peaceful for now. Merydith opened the window and basked in the clean, crisp summer air, filling her senses. The night sounds caught her attention—bats squeaked, crickets sang their symphonies, and frogs bellowed. They seemed not the least bit disturbed. After staring a few moments longer, she noticed the first light rising from the horizon. Pale yellow and white light glowed in the distance.