Abigayle's Pram

“Are you coming?” Nicole turned her dark eyes over her shoulder and down the creaking steps. Terry’ face reddened. He felt trapped. Had she caught him staring at her ass?

“Be right there,” he answered after swallowing enough saliva to moisten his dry throat. He placed his foot on the bottom step and pressed down on it with enough force to generate a screech from the old wood. “I’m not certain this will hold both of us.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Nicole snapped with mock anger. She smiled through the outburst and Terry couldn’t help but glance at her rear again. It was tight and round, encased in a second skin of black denim.

No, he thought. There’s no way I’d call that fat.

“Of course not,” he replied with smoothness that he didn’t quite feel. He knew that she’d caught him staring. “I would never…”

“Then hurry up,” Nicole disappeared over the top step and into the attic beyond. It was like watching her vanish into the night. There was no light up there aside from the pinprick cast by the flash on the back of the iPhone Nicole was carrying in one shaking hand.

Terry rushed up the old wooden steps. He pulled his own phone out of his pants pocket as he went. It wasn’t as fancy as Nicole’s but it got the job done. He flicked his finger across the screen and quickly located the flashlight app. After a second he turned the light on and pointed the camera in the direction he thought he’d seen Nicole go.

“Over here,” she called from the opposite direction.

He spun quickly. The light from the flash bulb on his phone flew over someone else’s life; packed and stored away forever to slowly turn to dust. He wondered who had owned the old house and what had happened to them.

“Look at this,” Nicole ducked behind a pile of boxes as tall as she was. Terry watched the wild shadows on the walls as she moved her light around and over the things hidden from his view.

“What is it?” He pointed his own light toward the floor. He found Nicole’s tracks in the dust. A single point made by the heel of her shoe with a larger, slightly triangular mark made by her toes. He followed them carefully. His allergies had been acting up and he didn’t want to disturb too much of the dust for fear of becoming a sneezy, snotty mess in front of his girl.

Nicole knew about his condition and was understanding of his limitations when it came to dust, pollen, and the various other things that would set him off. He’d intended to pop a couple of over – the – counter pills but had forgotten in his haste to get ready for their date. Not for the first time he wondered why hot and amazing Nicole would be interested in him.

“Be right there,” he called as he maneuvered his way around an open box. He glanced in and found a collection of photographs. “Hang on,” he stopped and cast his light into the box. “These look really old,” he muttered and bent to get a closer look.

He pulled the flaps of the box wider and turned his face away as dust flew off the cardboard. He sneezed hard and loud into his free hand then glanced down at the mess left behind. “Damn,” he whispered as he reached around and wiped his hand on pants.

“Bless you,” Nicole called from behind the boxes. She moved something that sounded heavy across the floor and then the light from her phone disappeared.

“Are you okay?” Terry turned back to the box as he called after Nicole. The photo on top of the heap showed a young girl holding what looked like a baby doll. It had a strangely realistic porcelain face; nothing like the plastic of modern dolls. Next to her was the handle of a cart or carriage. The top of a wheel was just visible in the bottom of the photo. There was something beside her that the photographer had either not wanted in the picture or had neglected to insure was fully visible. The girl was smiling and had her eyes slightly downcast. He thought she looked nervous or uncomfortable being photographed.

“Nic? Is everything all right over there?”

“Fine,” she called back. The light came back on behind the boxes. “Dropped my phone. The light went out,” he heard the embarrassment in her voice and wished that he’d been able to see her face. He really loved it when her cheeks darkened from their normal milk - chocolatey hue to the darker appearance of pure cocoa. He felt heat rise to his own cheeks as he thought about it.

“I’ll be right there.” Terry grabbed the photo of the girl. He shook it to dislodge some of the dust that had adhered itself to the surface and then regretted it when he felt a second sneeze begin to tickle at his nose. He brought his arm up to catch the offending discharge but after a few seconds of preparation nothing came. “Phew,” he murmured as he continued across the creaking attic floor. “Must have scared it away.” He shoved the photo into his pants pocket and used his now free hand to make sure the boxes he had to circumnavigate did not topple over. He held his breath so that none of the disturbed dust affected him.

“Hey,” Nicole turned her light around at the sound of Terry’s approach.

“Nic…Dammit…” Bright white blinded him and he closed his eyes and brought his arms up to cover his face.

“Sorry,” she lowered the light and pointed it at her feet. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” Terry snapped back at her. “Just give me a minute. My eyes need to adjust again.” He lowered his arms and blinked in order to clear the bright spots that filled his vision. Nicole stood five or six feet away. It looked like she was studying her shoes.

“I’m sorry, Babe,” Terry said and stepped forward, making sure to cast his own light down at the floor. He reached out and gently took Nicole’s free hand in his own. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. You just kind of surprised me.” He smiled and hoped that she was able to see the expression in the dim light cast from their phones. He stroked her fingers with his own and felt her relax a bit.

“Okay,” she replied after a moment.

“What did you want me to see?” Terry raised his light and moved it around in the space behind the boxes. There was a small table and chair set that looked like it was built for a child or a very small adult. On the surface of the table, under about an inch of dust, a hand held mirror and a hairbrush rested. They looked to be a part of a set. The silver handles were carved in a matching style.

A mirror stood at the back of the small table, mostly covered by a sheet that had likely been white at some point. Only a small section of the surface showed at the bottom corner where it reflected back light from the phone.

“Not that,” Nicole said and gave Terry’s hand a gentle tug to draw his attention away from the dressing table. Terry turned and followed the path of Nicole’s light. He was anxious to see what she wanted to show him but equally excited by the contact of her warm hand in his.

He squared his shoulders and stepped up behind Nicole so that her back was against his chest. His hand slipped away from hers and he brought his free arm up to let it rest on her bare shoulder. She was wearing a red tank top which left her arms and shoulders uncovered and he let the tips of his fingers brush against her warm, soft skin. Her dark flesh seemed to glow in the combined light from their phones.

“A pram?” Terry moved his own phone light up to fill in where Nicole’s could not completely penetrate. The lights on the phones were good. Not great.

“A what?” Nicole asked and craned her neck so that she could look up at him. Her soft hair brushed the back of his hand and he felt a shiver run up his arm.

Terry wasn’t much taller than she was; only about an inch or so now that she was wearing three inch heels, but Nicole liked having to look up to see his face. She’d been with shorter guys before and something had felt off about the whole thing. For some reason it didn’t feel right to her to be taller than the man she was with.

“A pram,” Terry repeated. “Like an old time stroller or carriage that women would use to take their babies out in. They sometimes used them a bassinettes as well, I think. This one’s small. Must have been a toy or something.”

“Really?” It was impossible for Nicole to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “You sure you’re a man? ‘Pram?’ ‘Carriage?’ ‘Bassinette?’ These don’t sound like things a man should know about.”

Terry felt his face warm and redden again and coughed in order to cover it up. “I…ahem…have sisters.”

“You never told me that before,” Nicole replied. Her free hand came up and gently stroked his.

“It looks pretty old,” he said as he waved his light over the pram again. It was dusty and sat at a canted angle that made him think that one of the wheels had probably either broken off or become bent. The frame had been painted white when it was first constructed but was now a dull ivory color under the dust. He didn’t think there was any rust or anything on the metal. It looked like it had been quite well cared for before being stored up in the attic. The wheels that he could see appeared to have all the spokes in place and the mesh tray at the bottom looked solid. Outside of the odd bit of web, it looked pretty clean. On one side of the frame he found a small metal emblem that like a twisting snake. “Seems a bit inappropriate,” he muttered as he studied the toy.

Around the apron and up onto the hood hung lace that looked like it was mostly intact. Even the handles appeared to be in perfect condition with no indication of cracking or wear.

“You think it’s worth anything?” Nicole stepped forward and broke the contact with Terry’s hand. She knelt down next to the carriage and began to gently wipe at the dust that covered the frame. Her fingers brushed over the emblem and it seemed to brighten for a blink.

“Hang on,” Terry answered and began to root around in his pocket for the photo he’d slipped in there earlier. He had some difficulty getting it out.

“What are you doing?” Nicole’s light was pointed at Terry’s waist and she seemed to be watching his hand as it moved around in his pocket.

“Not what you think,” he answered with a smirk and chuckle and extracted the picture. He took a second to smooth it out then knelt down next to her. He held the picture up next to the wheel of the pram.

“It’s the same one.” Nicole said what he had been thinking. He glanced from the photo in his hand to the white wheel of the pram and back again.

“Looks like it,” he replied. “Look at the girl in the picture. How old do you think she is?” He shifted the light over the photo. The girl’s expression looked different. She was no longer looking down but straight at the camera lens.

“I don’t know,” she leaned forward and Terry could smell the faint scent of her perfume as she did. “Maybe six?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s what I thought. Look at her dress. Must be close to a hundred years ago.”

Nicole took hold of the photo and brought her own phone around to add more light to the image in order to get a better look at it. It was probably close to what Terry had estimated and she turned the picture over to get a look at the back. Something was written there but it was faded and hard to make out in the minimal light from their phones.

She snapped a picture of the back of the photo. Using the tips of her fingers she manipulated the picture and zoomed in on the writing.

“Looks like a name,” she said as she zoomed to the maximum the phone would allow. She moved it back and forth with her finger as she tried to make it out. “Abigayle? Adeline?” The picture moved again and she continued. “Five years old. November something 1902?” Her fingers flashed across the screen and the picture returned to its original size. “Doesn’t look like anything else is there.”

“1902?” Terry studied the photograph again. The girl’s expression appeared to have shifted again and the doll had vanished from her arms. He shook his head then turned his attention back to the carriage in front of them. Was it just the angle or did it look to be standing a bit straighter? He felt a shiver crawl up his spine and the hair at the back of his neck rose.

“What is it?” Nicole must have felt the change in him. She turned away from the iPhone screen then moved the light around and let is cast a glow up onto Terry’s face. This time he didn’t flinch away.

“Ssshhhh…” he hushed her with a finger to his lips and looked back at the stacked boxes behind them before returning his attention to the carriage and the photograph. “I don’t think we’re alone in here.”

Nicole’s head snapped around and she watched the stack of boxes over her shoulder. From that vantage point she could see the boxes, the small table and chair and the mirror that reflected everything back to her. In the mirror she saw Terry’s back. The light from his phone glowed around his sides. The pram and her own reflection finished it all off. She was surprised by how pale she looked in the mirror and touched her own cheek to insure no mistake.

“I think we should leave,” she whispered and grabbed Terry’s hand, crushing the picture in her haste. When he didn’t seem to notice she gave it a tug. “Terry! Please?” She sucked in a deep breath and settled herself before she pulled on Terry’s hand again. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m leaving.” He didn’t reply.

A gentle rustling came from somewhere behind Nicole and she turned slowly around again. The boxes were just as she’d last seen them. As were the table and chair.

She knelt there, still grasping Terry’s hand, and felt her stomach drop and her entire body grow cold.

In the mirror she found the face of the little girl from the photo.

She was brushing long, blond hair and seemed entirely at ease. She was only partially watching the motion of the brush in the mirror. She looked clean and fresh as if she’d only just come out of the bath and was getting ready for bed. She wore a white dressing gown with a high, snugly buttoned collar and her arms were covered by wide sleeves that ended in lace cuffs. The same lace trim was around the top of the collar cradling her chin gently.

The girl’s mouth moved and her eyes snapped forward and locked with Nicole’s. The sudden connection caused her to stumble and nearly fall back onto the floor. She inhaled sharply and tasted the dry, dusty air as it passed, cold and harsh, over her lips and down her throat.

“It’s mine,” the girl in the mirror snapped. “You can’t have it.” Nicole couldn’t understand how she heard the girl’s voice.

She gave Terry’s arms another hard pull, found no resistance and looked back at him. He turned to face her with blank eyes. His mouth hung slightly open. She was starting to shake and felt hot then cold then hot again.

In front of Terry, the carriage began to rock gently up and down on its frame. It squeaked slightly as the old spring suspension began to work again. Dust fell from the lace and the metal frame as it moved.

Despite not wanting to see Nicole looked back at the mirror. The girl was no longer seated at the table brushing her hair. She now stood with her tiny hands on the handles of the pram, gently rocking it as if lulling a baby to sleep. She was humming a gentle tune that filled the attic and made Nicole’s skin break out in goose bumps.

Terry’s hand slipped away and Nicole turned in time to see him slowly rise to his feet and take a tentative step towards the pram where it continued to rock. His phone lay on the floor where he’d been kneeling. The screen was dark. The camera saw only the wooden floor. The light was still on but did little more than cast an eerie glow to the edge of the phone closest to the bulb.

“Terry?” She could barely speak his name above a whisper.

He ignored her and began to push a pile of boxes that blocked his path. He shoved them clear of the side of the carriage. A huge cloud of dust rose from the floor and hit him square in the face. He gave no reaction. Nicole couldn’t even tell if he was still breathing.

In the mirror Abigayle continued to rock the pram gently. Nicole didn’t know how but she knew that the girl was Abigayle. Not Adeline.

Terry’s reflection in the mirror had managed to clear a path to the front of the pram and he was bent forward over it; looking into the bed at the child that was being rocked to sleep. Abigayle’s humming increased in volume.

Nicole turned and found the same thing. She tried to stand. The heel of her shoe caught between two boards and she fell back into the stacked boxes behind her. The pile toppled over.

Boxes fell and crashed all around and on top of her. She screamed as an especially heavy one landed on her hand and heard what could only be the screen of her iPhone shattering under the impact. Her hand felt warm and wet as pieces of the shattered device punctured her palm. She hissed but managed to hold back a second scream.

Terry was leaning impossibly far forward so that his head and shoulders were no longer visible beneath the hood of the pram. He was making some kind of strange cooing noise. It sounded like a cross between consoling and crying.

“Terry!” No longer concerned over being heard Nicole yelled at him at the top of her lungs. “Get away from there!”

She looked back at the mirror and saw that Abigayle had moved away from the handles. She was no longer rocking the carriage but was standing on the far side, covered from about the height of her belly to her tiny feet where they were just visible between the spokes of the wheels. Her hand was on Terry. It looked like she was patting his back.

Abigayle’s eyes, dark and filled with an impossible malice, were locked on Nicole’s in the mirror. She smiled.

“I told you,” she said. “It’s mine. You can’t have it.”

“No!” Nicole yelled at the mirror and pulled her hand free from under the box. What was left of her phone slipped out of her blood slickened grip. “Let him go!”

Nicole sprung to her feet and was at the pram in a single stride. She grasped Terry’s arm in both hands and started to pull on it with all her strength. He didn’t move. In desperation, she turned to the mirror. Abigayle glared back at her. It looked like the girl was still on the opposite side of the pram. Nicole knew there was nothing there. In the mirror, Abigayle’s hand came away from Terry. She thrust her arms forward.

“Mine!” The girl screeched. Nicole cringed.

Nicole felt sharp pain in her chest and was lifted off the floor. Her hands came free of Terry’s arm and she half flew – half stumbled backwards to slam into the small table and chair. Her hands came down on the edge of the table and she felt the sharp wood dig into her back as she struck the table. She took a deep breath and turned to the mirror at her back.

She grabbed the smaller mirror in her bloody hand. She looked over her shoulder and saw Terry start to climb into the pram. He had one leg up with his knee on the edge of the apron and was slowly leaning further forward. All of his weight must have been on the pram but it refused to tip over. It was impossible. The pram should have flipped over and he should have been on his back on the floor.

In the mirror Abigayle was behind Terry helping him climb up. It looked like she was lifting him into the bed! He bent further and his head and shoulders disappeared. His other leg came up and he crawled into the bed. Abigayle leaned over the space. Her gentle humming had stopped. She started cooing softly.

“Stop!” Nicole yelled and struck the mirror at the back of the table with the smaller one in her hand. Both mirrors exploded. Nicole stumbled as shards of glass flew everywhere. Tiny pieces stung her cheeks and chest; bounced harmlessly off her shirt and dropped into her cleavage. Her arms came up and covered her face, but it was too late. Warm spots of blood began to appear on her exposed skin. She felt glass in her hair and closed her eyes in order to avoid being blinded.

When she opened her eyes it was to darkness.

There was nothing but empty space in front of her where the mirror had been. She reached out slowly, fingertips extended. Her entire body shook with anticipation. She expected something to happen. Her hand passed through the space where the mirror had been. She felt only air and relaxed. A little.

After taking in a few deep breaths she turned and found a small glow on the floor.

Terry’s phone was still on. The light still shone. She moved carefully toward it. Her feet slid across the floor slowly. She refused to lift them off the wood and feared taking another misstep and twisting or spraining her ankle.

Her toe thumped the heavy box that had crushed her phone. It lay, shattered and dark, on the floor. Bloody droplets soaked into the dust around the phone. Nicole flexed her bloody hand. It felt cool and sticky.

She knelt carefully and picked Terry’s phone up from the floor where it lay then brought it up to slowly cast the glow from the flash onto the pram.

It was the same as it had been when she’d first found it. Dull with dust and age. The odd cobweb hung between the spokes of the wheels and the mesh of the tray.

“Terry?” Her voice was weak. She cast the light from the phone around but there was no sign of him anywhere. At her feet she found the photograph where it had fallen when she’d released Terry’s hand. It was bent and rumpled but the image could still be seen.

Abigayle stood next to the pram. She looked contented; full of pride. In her arms she cradled a baby doll with Terry’s emotionless porcelain face.