The PickAx House

(Chapter 7) Halloween

1.

Day 23. The night was so bright it was blinding, so loud it was deafening. It was Halloween! But this year would be different, instead of strolling up and down the streets of Hopes Bluff, holding pillowcases full of candy while dressed up as ghouls and goblins. They were trapped, snowed in. The storms this year were too dangerous to go threatening trick or treat. Tim, Susan, and Joseph were not going to let that stop them from enjoying their Halloween.

They had just got through carving their pumpkins, each one with their own design. Of course, Tim carved all three, because it was tradition and now, he had gone out to set the pumpkins up and light them. Susan and Joseph were cleaning up the mess when they heard him come in the back door. "It's colder than a well-diggers ass out there!" Tim said as he dusted the snow off and closed the back door behind him. "I swear it feels like 20 below!" Mary laughed a little. "I know, the house is cold too! Will you check the fireplace for us? I just can't seem to do it as well as you do." Tim leaned over and kissed her saying "I've got it babe. You look like you have got your hands full with those dishes. Where's Miss Delores I haven't seen her much here lately?" "She's in her room resting, she hasn't been feeling very well." "Well I hope she's okay." "I'm sure she'll be fine it's probably just the weather getting to her."

He walked to the fireplace in the living room and leaned down looking at it. Small orange flames dance across the wood. Beautiful but sad, he thought as an irresistible smile pulled across his face. He tossed some wood in and said "Wow, you really did need my help!" She yelled back from the kitchen, "I told you!" "Have you seen my newspaper?" "Yeah, it's on your chair." "I don't know why you're still reading that thing, it's over two weeks old now!" "Yeah I know, it's just habit," he said as he picked the newspaper up and sat down in his recliner next to the fire. He propped up his feet and opened the paper. He tried to focus his eyes on the words, but they were too blurry to make out. The black ink blots were slowly forming together to make letters when he felt a piercing pain shooting from one temple to another.

"Damn my head is killing me!" He sat up and started rubbing his temple. He heard Mary's voice come from the kitchen again... "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes!" "Okay babe I've got to go upstairs and take my medicine, I'll be back down in a minute." He stumbled going up the stairs. He could feel a heartbeat, BA BOOM, BA BOOM in his head as the pain pounded from temple to temple.

2.

Making his way into his room, he set the newspaper down on the dresser and grabbed his prescription tossing it back into his mouth. Crushing each pill between his teeth. The pain started to subside when the old bitter familiar taste came back to him. Rubbing his temples, he looked back at the newspaper. Slowly turning his head to the side, he realized he does not recall the help wanted ad for the local pawn shop in his newspaper. The one he had read at least five times now. He frowned, picked up the newspaper and opened it. To his surprise it read The Denver Post! What in the hell he thought? I do not read The Denver Post! How did I even... Where did it...?

He started to sweat but the temperature in the room felt as if it dropped around him. Giving him the chills. The feeling of someone walking over your grave. His ears started to ring, bringing back the heartbeat in his head. Wait! He read the date. It was dated back weeks ago when all this started. When everything started happening, the footprints... oh my God the footprints! Someone had been here! Is here? Without a second thought he rushed back downstairs past everyone and outside, straight for his tool shed. Upon reaching it he noticed the lock ajar. Examining the lock, he could feel panic starting to set in, it was all scratched up, someone broke in!

3.

He opened the door slowly, unsure of what or who will be inside. He turned on the lights to find no one there and his pickaxe missing. He turned back to look at the house and screamed "Mary!" But the wind opened and swallowed his screams as if his mouth opened but nothing came out. He reached over and grabbed his sledgehammer. Starting back towards the house now, he was a little more cautious than he had been coming out. Looking around, his eyes watering, he could see nothing but white.

As he got closer to the house and started to walk up the steps, Mary opened the back door. Both her and Abby waiting on him curiously over his behavior. "Mary, you and Abby take the kids and get in the living room!" Her face dropped, "Why what's going on Tim?" "Yeah what is it dad?" "Just do it!" While Mary and Abby gather everyone by the fire, Tim quickly went from room to room. Astonished to find no one in his house once again, he slowly made his way back down the stairs to his family. Dragging his sledgehammer behind him. He wore the face of someone that appeared to be confused on whether they were awake or asleep. He spoke quietly, "I don't understand." Mary now visibly aggravated said "Understand... understand what? I don't understand. We don't understand! What is going on Tim? You're scaring the kids and quite frankly me too!" His face now showed sadness. His eyes glistened. "I'm scaring you?" She could tell he was hurt. "I'm scaring you. I'm scared," he said as he pointed at himself. "I'm trying to protect you." Now pointing at her. "All of you." "Then what's going on Tim?" Mary demanded. "I'll show you!" he reached his hand out for her. She recoiled. He reached his hand out for his daughter. She gripped her family tighter. He looked at them all with disbelief. Abby hesitated and started to take his hand, feeling guilty, when Mary suddenly grabbed it. "Show me Tim." He gripped her hand tight and started towards the back door. "Tim wait she yelled," Pulling back! "First tell me what's going on." "There's no time." he said! "Please Tim!" He took a deep breath and said "Okay, earlier when I was upstairs taking my medicine, I realized the newspaper that was sitting on my chair was not The Denver Tribune it was The Denver Post!" "You know I only read The Denver Tribune." "So" she replied. "So, I couldn't figure out" ... Now pacing the floor with a wild look in his eyes and tapping his temple with his finger, "where it came from. But then I remembered how I had misplaced my pickaxe and found it later stuck in the back porch, where the footsteps left off!" Mary sighed. "Well don't you understand? Whoever left the footprints also left the newspaper...they're still here!" With Mary's voice raising, she said, "That's not possible. We have been snowed in for weeks now! We would have seen someone living here." Tim lowered his head looking up at her with his eyes and said "I'll show you. When I realized someone was still here, I ran to check on my pickaxe. My lock was broken, and my pickaxe was missing. Want to see?" "Show me" Mary said as she grabbed his sledgehammer from his hands and gripped it tight. He stared in her eyes for a second before saying "After you my love." "No after you... I insist".

Now outside in the storm holding a sledgehammer with Tim behind her, feeling more like he was stalking her than protecting her she could not believe this was happening. Everything had been great for weeks. Tim had even made love to her the night before but now on Halloween night, she found herself in a scene from one of those horror movies or Stephen King novels Tim loved so much. She walked up to the lock, reached out and held it in her hand. Examining it she leaned the sledgehammer up against the building. "What are you doing?" Tim said. She turned and looked at him saying "It's locked." Turning her body and revealing the lock, fully secured. "What?" Tim said as he reached out and grabbed the lock, jerking and shaking it! "I was just out here, and it was unlocked. I swear! See the scratches," he pointed out. "Yes." Mary said, "But Tim the whole building is scratched up, that could have happened in the storm." He reached in his pocket and said, "That didn't happen in the fucking storm."

Pulling out his keys he unlocked the lock. He grabbed the sledgehammer and shoved her to the side, causing her to fall. He walked inside. Mary yelled at him, getting up, "What the hell Tim!" She looked inside and he was just standing there like a stone. His pickaxe was hanging on the wall in front of him. He dropped the sledgehammer and turned around. "You got to believe me" he pleaded. Mary just stood there quietly, turned around and walked back to the house. Leaving him standing there, arms out. Watching her walk away.