A Family Haunting

Judy was tired from driving for hours, but she’s glad she gave her husband a break. After a while the glare of headlights on the highway put a strain on his already bad eyes. She reached into the backseat and unclipped her daughter Ivy from her car seat. Fatigue made the weight of her tiny body seem heavier. She took a moment to appreciate the angelic curls falling into her peaceful face despite the dead weight.

She and Ted barely said a word to each other as they walk up the porch stairs into their new house, their new life. Not out of any bitterness, they’re just too tired to think of anything to say. He silently turns the key in the door and lets Judy and the sleeping child into their new home, their new life.

It took her a moment for her tired brain to realize that the house was empty, as in, they had nowhere to sleep. By the time she’d turned to Ted, he was halfway back to the car. He’d returned with his “Moving Survival Kit” complete with an armful of blankets and pillows. It wasn’t a bed, but it would be enough for the next few hours of sleep. Tomorrow the movers would come with their comfy beds, and scented candles, and certainty. Everything that would make the place truly feel like home.

Ted arranged the blankets and pillows in the dark, just enough to keep them from sleeping on the cold floor. Judy nestled in next to Ted and already falling into a deep sleep, she held Ivy close.

...

Judy was confused.

There are boxes stacked high in the foyer of her new home. Boxes of things that didn’t belong to her. Had the movers somehow delivered the wrong items to the wrong house? The movers weren’t even supposed to get there until the afternoon. What’s even more confusing, though, is how they got there. At first light, Judy had carefully untangled herself from her makeshift bed so as not to wake Ted and Ivy. She’d grabbed Ted’s “Survival Kit” and tiptoed past the foyer and into the kitchen to make peanut butter sandwiches. When she turned around, the mysterious boxes were there.

Something was going on. With the sun as high as it was, Ted must be awake. She’d just ask her husband for a logically explanation, something that gave her enough peace of mind to assure her that she wasn’t going crazy, and go back to her new kitchen with the warm sunlight coming through the perfect windows they’d loved so much at the open house.

“Ted?”

She heard nothing.

“Ted?” A little louder. Still nothing.

What could he be doing? Playing with Ivy, maybe? Or in the bathroom? There was no way he could still be asleep. She walked back into the living room and froze in her tracks. The nest of pillows and blankets, and, more importantly, her husband and daughter, were nowhere to be found. The living room was suddenly furnished. A slow cold panic spread over her body.

“Ivy?”

“Ted?”

Silence.

The panic that she’d been trying to quell crept into her voice with every shout. As she checked the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the backyard, the porch, over and over. She ran through the house, frenzied at the thought of her missing baby. She tripped over chairs that she’d never places, a stray ottoman that she’d never seen. Every time she opened a door, it seemed that she was in a different house entirely. Or that could just be the panic. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Tiring herself out, instead of calling their names, she wailed them. The love of her life. And her child, gone. Or had she gone? She couldn’t tell. It felt as though time was had folded in on itself, her aching emotions stretching what might’ve been minutes into hours, drawing out her wracking sobs. She hadn’t given up. How could she give up on the man who had changed her life? How could she forget the child that had given her a reason for living? But any sense of true hope was gone. Now when she searched, it was a slow, perfunctory drag rather than a panicked sprint.

The photos on the wall changed. She thought bitterly of how she’d never been able to hang one of she and Ted. Once she saw one of a woman with bright bouncing curls that fell into her face. She reminded her of Ivy. It seemed to be a family portrait, the woman with the curls in a bright flowing sundress and a radiant smile, next to freckled woman with short, red hair. They sat side by side and each held a chubby toddler with a tuft of red curls on their lap. Judy smiled to herself. Clearly twins. The photo was a small comfort to her. It gave her a small glimmer of happiness to think of Ivy growing up, falling in love, having children of her own. It didn’t last, though. Nothing stayed the same in this strange world she’d entered. One day the portrait was gone, replaced by another woman, and a man she’d never seen, and different children.

It took a while for her to notice that she couldn’t even see faces in the pictures anymore, just indistinguishable blurs. Sometimes when she’d see a new photo with its creepy blurred faces, she’d knock it over. She knew it was childish and petty but what did it matter anymore? She didn’t eat or sleep anymore, but she had barely noticed. She’d more or less survived on her grief. Nothing in her house was hers. Nothing in the world was hers anymore.

…

Little Theo rubs his eyes.

“I don’t want to live in the scary house, Mommy!”

Jamie knew she shouldn’t have let his cousins tell him ghost stories. He was too young, and this way she’d never get him to sleep.

“This isn’t a scary house! This is where Mommy grew up!”

She sat him on the porch and settled next to him. She tousled his curly hair, the red streaks picking up the moonlight. She knew she had to tell him something but wasn’t sure that the truth would be that much better than the scary stories his cousins had made up. But he was six. Moving was going to be hard enough for him at this age even without living in this house. They’d all heard the stories. He was old enough to know the truth, especially if they were going to have to live here.

“I’m going to tell you a story, Bud. But you have to promise me you’re going to be my big, strong, brave, boy, okay? And if you’re strong, I’ll be strong too.”

Theo nodded, his face grim and determined. He loved his mother more than anyone in the whole world. And if she needed him to be brave, he could be brave too.

“When my mommy was really little she moved into this house with her daddy. Do you know what her daddy’s name was?”

Little Theo shook his head.

“His name was Theodore. Just like you, Bud!”

She tickled him and he burst into giggles. To be honest, she was stalling.

“Well, they moved into this house but her mommy passed on the night they moved in.”

The giggles were gone. Theo’s cheeks traded the bright flush of laughter for the paleness of fear. His eyes grew wide.

“Is she still here?”

Jamie hesitated. She knew what everyone in their family said about this house, what everyone had seen. The things she’d heard when she tried to sleep. Jamie’s mother had done her best to keep the house in the family. Jamie’s uncles had once tracked down the previous owners, who’d left because of their own ghost story. The stories seemed to stretch back decades and were all similar. Voices, calling out from the great beyond. Doors opening themselves. Pictures being knocked off of the walls. She’d lived those stories.

The only one who seemed not to be afraid was Jamie’s mother. She spoke of the haunting almost fondly. Her tone was always wistful yet sad. Jamie decided to tell it the way her mother would.

“She is still here, Bud. And she’s really sad that she doesn’t get to see her family anymore.”

She pulled Theo into her lap.

“But she loved her baby so much that she stayed. And my mommy always used to say we’re family so we should be there for her too.”

Theo thought about this for a moment.

“Is she scary? I don’t like scary ghosts.” He rubbed his eyes some more.

“You know what, Bud? I think if she scares you it’s because she’s just as scared as you are.”

Theo fought his sleep enough to look up at his mother. “Really?”

“Yup. And my mommy had a trick. She said anytime she saw a ghost she would sing and it would make my grandma Judy feel better. Sometimes we’d even sing to her on her birthday.”

She felt the weight in her lap grow limp. At least, she thought, she’d calmed him enough that he could sleep. She picked him up and carried in him to the house. She was grateful that he was still so small. She knew one day he’d be to big for her to carry like this. As she walked past the threshold and into the house, she sang under her breath.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, dear Judy

Happy birthday to you

Somewhere within the house, the faint echo of crying quieted, and Jamie carried Theo up the stairs to bed.