The House

Chapter 5: The Basement and the Chimney

Instantly I go completely still. My gaze darts over to Beth, who is inspecting a music box. Her hands are occupied. I can't see anything, but I feel those little cold fingers travel up my arm, questioning, touching.

"This one is strong," a voice whispers, like a breath of steam, "it's a boy."

Another hand tugs at my hair. "Curly," whispers something else.

My shoelaces suddenly are being unraveled, held up in the air by invisible hands. I hear giggles, feel more cold thin fingertips touch my legs and face and shoulders. Their voices aren't soft, but almost gone, like the hollow echo that you hear after you yell in a train tunnel. It isn't a voice; it's what's left of it.

Who are you? I think.

The airy voices bump and trip over each other excitedly, whispers like bubbles in a pond. "He can hear us."

"Tell him."

"Yes, tell him."

"Charlie," they said. "Gh ti th base..."

I can't hear you.

It's as if I can feel them trying to collect their strength. "Go to the basement..." Their voices die out again. Their hands slip away from me.

"She's here," the speaker sounds frightened.

"Back so soon."

"Who's here?" I ask aloud. "Who is she?"

"We cannot be here."

"She will be angry."

"Flee, flee," the whispers sigh, and gradually float away.

I feel eyes on me, and turn to see Beth looking at me quizzically. "Who are you talking to?"

"Those voices...you didn't hear them?"

"No," she says slowly, giving me that look that I recognize as half fear, half confusion, "maybe you fell asleep and had a dream."

Can you feel cold fingers in a dream?

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You're probably exhausted," she stands up, "let me see your hand."

I let her take my arm out of the sling, rest my hand in her lap while she carefully inspects it.

"The swelling is down, and it doesn't look infected. Does it hurt a lot?"

It hurts like hell, but I don't want her to put my hand down. "It's manageable."

"Nothing seems to be wrong, but you should still get to a doctor when you have the chance."

"How do you know nothing's wrong?" I ask as she slides my hand back in the sling. "My bones could be all rotten and snapped inside."

Beth laughs. "Well for one, you'd probably be delirious with pain. Two, it would stink. Three, you'll be fine in a few weeks. Trust me, my mom's a doctor."

"So if your mom is a doctor that automatically gives you her doctor abilities?"

"Of course it does," she pats my head, "sleep well little Charlie."

I'm too busy thinking about the voices that before I know it, Beth falls asleep before I do. She nods off onto a pile of Turkish rugs, her brown hair spread out over the tapestry. Surrounding her are piles of every key chain she could find. Jake arrives a few minutes later, smelling like oily junk food and carrying cups of coke, paper bags full of fried food.