Never Runs Out [COMPLETED]

Part 1

It had been six years since I had last visited my Grandparents in Midwestern Pennsylvania. In fact, it had been six years since I had even stepped foot in Pennsylvania, considering I was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. My Grandparents had been nearing their mid-eighties by the time my dad and I had moved into the early century farmhouse that my Grandmother and my father had both grown up in. I was seventeen, and extremely disgruntled over the situation. My high school career was almost completed when he and I relocated. My father gained custody over me, my mother kept the house. The divorce was kept as clean as possible. I didn't question the situation, and I probably never will.
The old house was established in 1925. However, being a successful banker, my great grandfather had sold most of the acreage to three family friends, who constructed each of their houses side by side, just a quarter of a mile away from the original farm house. Ninety years later, and the old families had sold their houses to new couples, wishing to live a rustic lifestyle.
The house closest to my Grandparents' contained a young couple with a three month old baby, who was almost always sleeping. He sure was boring.
We didn't visit the second house. I brought up the building to my Gram.
"Oh that's Astraea Ravenscroft's house. Or it was when I was a little girl. She must be long dead now. Her children must be taking care of the house now." That's all she said about it. Gram was quite a gossip, but it appeared she knew little to nothing about the Ravenscrofts. Either that or Gram was holding onto a secret. I decided to drop it.
The third house, with a medieval style, buttresses high, was inhabited by a middle aged couple, whose twin sons were in the middle of their third year at a University. They were not very friendly, they only spoke of themselves. Gram disliked them.
When my dad and I were unpacking, and Gram and Pappy had made a run to the grocery store, I had asked him, "Why couldn't we have moved to somewhere closer to Baltimore? This new school doesn't have a lacrosse team. My grades were great at my old school. They're going to put me in remedial classes, aren't they? They don't know my level." I had let everything out. My dad sighed.
"Lena, honey, I spoke to the district and they looked at your grades. They'll use your old schedule as the basis for your new schedule. We had to move here. Gram and Pappy are getting up in age."
Gram had slipped down the stairs three months before I moved in. Pappy had been paranoid ever since. His blood pressure never had been higher. Dad was very anxious after that, which very likely sped up the divorce. Gram claimed there was nothing to worry about. She was resilient, I believed her.
After a week, I had grown used to the place. Every morning I would run down Cloves Road. Every morning I would run past the three houses. The young couple from the first house would be sitting on their high porch. The mother holding her baby in a wooden rocking chair. I waved every time. They would wave back. The couple would stop at my Grandparents' house every other day. Sometimes they brought casseroles or cookies. Other times they'd only come with that boring baby. Mr. Lucas, the baby's father, would always mention my morning runs to my father, "I had been quite the track star at school. I went to the same school Lena's going to. You know, I think they could use a runner like her."
My dad would shrug, "I let her make her own choices."
I had made a few friends at school. It surprising how many people stopped caring about the new kid over the years. I started to resent myself for not giving those new kids enough attention when I was in high school.
My teachers liked me the most. I spent a lot of time at home studying. Not because I wanted to, but because there was nothing else to do. I always got good grades, and they liked me for that.
At one point, I started helping my Gram do laundry in the basement. She would often talk about the Lucas' and their baby. Apparently, Mrs. Lucas had been a nervous mess during her pregnancy. Gram didn't think she was fit to be a mother at first.
"You know, Lena," She told me one day as she poured detergent into the washing machine. "I'm glad you're able to experience life here. My parents had built this home before I was born. I grew up here, your father grew up here. It's a shame your mother so obdurately refused to stay here with us." She paused and glanced nervously in my direction. "But, well, you're here now, and that's all that matters, honey." She patted my shoulder. The conversation had ended.
The very next day, as I closed the washing machine's door, Gram grew very anxious. I could tell. She bit her lip and stared at her feet. "Lena, I want to tell you something about this place. Well, the neighborhood actually."
I spun around and leaned against the rattling washing machine. "What is it, Gram?"
"Well, during the second world war, um, the four families living in the neighborhood, um, they built a sort of, well, bomb shelter."
I paused. "Wow, Gram, where is it?"
She looked around. "Oh, honey, I can't tell you that," She declared loudly. She then moved her face very close to mine. I could feel her hot breath on my nose. She whispered very softly: "It's behind one of the houses, the Ravenscroft house, to be exact." She glanced around the room again. "Do not tell anyone I told you, honey." Her face was red, like there was something she wasn't telling me. I began to reciprocate her anxiousness.
"Can I see it?" I asked quietly.
She took a shaky breath, excitedly. "Of course, you can check it out. It's under a willow tree in the Ravencroft back yard. No one goes back there anymore.
The very next morning, instead of taking my daily run, I traveled through the backyard. About a hundred yards behind the decrepit Ravenscroft house stood a thick trunked willow tree. I ducked under its swooping leaves. Five feet behind the tree lay a rotting wooden trapdoor. I lifted its rusty handle and tugged until the invisible seal broke the door free. I jumped back as it sprang open. I shuddered, staring into the dark abyss revealed by the wooden door. Did I really want to investigate? I had considered shutting the trapdoor and running home to Gram and tell her I couldn't do it. But her excited behavior drew me to the hidden secrets of the bomb shelter. I shone an orange flashlight into it. I could have sworn the bright beam reflected off of the eyes of an animal. My heart raced. I told myself it was nothing but a figment of my imagination. I took a deep breath and hummed to myself. I maneuvered the flashlight until it met a ladder that resembled one you would find in a manhole. I slowly followed it down ten steps, flashlight carefully concentrated on the cement ground. The hard concrete interior was oddly comforting. My foot hit the floor. I let go of the ladder and took a step forward. A cold string hanging collided with my face. I jumped back and abruptly hit the back of my head on a ladder rung, holding in a scream. The metal rung created a loud din in reaction to my impact. I considered scrambling up the ladder, but, instead I rubbed the back of my head and carefully inspected what I had previously collided with using my flashlight. It was nothing but a metal beaded lightswitch hanging from the ceiling. I tugged it, and a lightbulb sparked to life. Its brightness filled up the majority of the concrete block shelter. Directly across from where I stood was a silver metal door. I considered approaching it when I heard the trod of cattle behind it. I squeaked and pushed myself in a corner, behind a mahogany desk cluttered with papers, directly to the right from where I was standing. The door swung open. My heart pounded louder than ever. My eyes welled up with hot tears. A young girl appeared behind the open door wearing a bright red dress with poofy short sleeves. My heart rate immediately slowed at the sight of her.
"What is it. Is there another raccoon in here?" a tall boy stormed past her, his large feet thumping loudly which each step his long legs made.
The girl moved past her, black dress shoes clicking across the floor. "Look, Vince, the latch is open." The two exchanged cautious glances. The boy climbed the rungs. I shifted my body, accidentally hitting a leg of the mahogany table. A wooden, yellow pencil raced for the floor, clattering abruptly and rattling as it rolled across the cold cement floor. The young girl had spotted me. I sat like a deer in the headlights as she approached me. "Vince." she called. A smile crept onto her youthful face.
"What do you want, Coraline?" he responded, steps causing the floor to yell.
"We have a visitor." Coraline smiled. She reached out for me. "Hi, what's your name?" I cowered against the freezing wall in fear.
Vince had noticed me. He glared, almost resentful of my presence. I shivered as we made eye contact. "She has to leave."
I was more than happy to leave. He scared me. The girl did not appear to have much authority over his say.
That's when I remembered where I was. Silently, I breathed: "Ravenscroft."
Coraline moved closer to me. "What was that?" She smiled.
I looked into her green eyes. In this lighting, they looked old, experienced. "Ravenscroft." I said louder. "You two, Ravenscroft, Ravens..."
Vince turned to Coraline and turned, throwing his hatred back to me like a dart. "Who told you that? How do you know who we are?"
I sat up straight and stared at him sternly. "I live with my grandparents. Their names are Faith Cloves and Frederick Brewer."
The two exchanged nervous glances. Coraline's face crumpled in despair. "Faith Cloves is your Grandmother?" She asked
"Has it been that long?" Vince muttered. Coraline shushed him.
"Vincent, if you would please lead out guest upstairs to the house."
My heart skipped a beat. I would be entering the Ravenscroft house. The house I have only known as being covered in peeling white paint, revealing light wooden beams. I was excited, yet terrified. Vincent and Coraline led me up a seemingly endless number of dimly lit, wooden stairs. Vincent Ravenscroft hurried up them, moving two stairs at a time. Coraline hurriedly clicked behind him. I was at the end of the line, about five steps behind her. Vincent stood at the doorway. I was introduced to bright light and the sharp smell of pine needles. Coraline raced past him. "Hady! Hady! We have a visitor!"
There I was, in the Ravenscroft kitchen. Oh, boy, what a story I'd have for Gram! The room lacked a refrigerator. Instead, stood a rusty icebox. Vincent moved in front of me, blocking my view of the kitchen. Instead, I was face to face with his navy blue tie. I looked up. His eyes were dark and riddled with bags.
"You tell no one what you saw here. Especially Faith Cloves."
I swallowed. "Yes, sir."
He studied my face. "How old are you?"
"I'm seventeen. How old are you?"
"Seventeen. Do you have a name?"
"It's Lena Brewer. And I know you're Vincent. And your sister is Coraline." I squinted. "There's another one. Hady."
"Hadrian." He corrected. "He's my kid brother."
Suddenly, there was an eruption of the sound of wheels clattering down the rugged, wooden floor. The sound turned the corner into the kitchen to reveal a small boy confined in an old wooden wheelchair, specifically designed to fit his young body comfortably. His hair was cut short, and slicked to two sides on top of his head, creating a noticeable part. I had seen a similar pattern occurring in Vincent's jet black hair, however, each side had been styled into waves. Behind the boy stood Coraline, bouncing in excitement.
Vincent cleared his throat. "Hadrian, Coraline, this is Lena.
Coraline grabbed onto the back of Hadrian's wheelchair and kicked her feet up. The wheelchair leaned backwards and Hadrian screamed, revealing a thin gap between his central incisors. Vincent yelled at Coraline. She yelped back.
"What is this ruckus all about?" A voice called from the hallway. The children became rigid. I stared at each of them in confusion.
A tall woman stepped into the room. The mood immediately darkened. I studied her. The woman's golden hair was made up into a flawless victory roll on each side of her head. The remaining hair lay in curls on her shoulders. I took a deep breath. She looked at me, shock filled her eyes. She stood for a moment in confusion. "Faith?"
"No." I said, looking around the room. The children looked fearful. "I'm Lena. Faith is my Grandmother."
The woman took a deep breath. She looked at her hands, face filled with fear. She shook and threw her hands to her sides to stop it. "Of course. I've seen plenty of pictures of her as a child." She laughed. "Oh, I thought I'd seen a ghost. You look so much like her. Now... how old are you... Lena?"
"I'm seventeen." I repeated.
"Oh, yes. Just like my boy here. You've met Vincent, I assume." She waved to the slender boy.
"Of course. He's very, um... nice." I lied.
"I'm twelve!" Coraline called out. "I like Lena, Mummy. She's my friend.
"That's just splendid, darling." She reached out and patted her daughter's youthful face.
Silence fell over the room. Conversation had run out. I glanced at everyone individually. They were watching me. I could feel their eyes on me. Hadrian sniffed. The woman looked down at him, concerned.
"Oh, Hadrian, are you coming down with something?" She turned back to me suddenly. "You best be leaving. You must have let in too much winter air when you came inside. My little boy doesn't do well with cold air."
I nodded. Vincent pushed me harshly to the front door. He wrapped his long fingers around the round knob. He gave me a menacing glare. "Good morning."
"Good morning!" The others chorused.
I took a step out of the door. "Good morning." I muttered. Vincent swiftly slammed the door.
The Lucas couple had gone back inside. How much time had I really spent in there? I've determined how much: too much. I ran back home. Gram would be shaking with excitement when she heard what I had to say.
She was in her room folding laundry when I finally returned. "Have you seen Pappy's flashlight?" she asked as a ran in.
I closed the door. "Oh no." I said. "Gram, I left it in the shelter."
She shot straight up and hurried towards me, shushing me. "You went in?" She whispered.
"Yes." I whispered back
"Did you see any Ravenscrofts? Did you look through the metal door?" She asked. Her face red with delight.
I stared at her. "How did you know about the door? You told me no one goes down there anymore."
She looked around nervously. "Lena, I, I, I had forgotten about that."
I clenched my fists. "Gram." I called out in shock. "You set me up! You set me up to snoop around in the Ravenscroft house!"
She violently waved her hands around, shushing me. "No, no. I just, um, okay. I'll admit it Lena. I wanted to know what's going on in that house. My legs, oh, but my legs. They're far too old and weak for me to descend those rungs. Please, Lena. Forgive me."
"I broke into their house, Gram!" I was furious.
She blinked. "So there were people inside?" her eyes widened.
I nodded. "A woman and her three children." I suddenly remembered Vincent's warning.
"What were their names? Oh, do tell me their names!" Gram demanded.
"They wouldn't tell me, Gram. I'm sorry." I watched the glee flow out of her face like a disappointed child as I spoke these words to her.
She frowned. "Well, you tried."
For the next three days, every time Gram would see me, she would sadly look at the floor. She knew I was keeping a secret from her. She would relentlessly guilt me into to telling her.
That crazy old bat. She's a genius.
I cracked while we were doing laundry. "Gram, I have something I want to tell you."
She looked up at me, eyes glistening in delight. "You can tell me anything, darling. What's on your mind?" She knew her tactic had worked.
I spoke quickly and quietly. "I told you that I didn't hear the Ravenscrofts' names, but I did. The mother wouldn't tell me her name, but she had gorgeous blonde hair. Her oldest son's name is Vincent, he's really tall and he's also seventeen. The girl's name is Coraline. She's twelve. The youngest son is in a wheelchair. His name is Hadrian."
Her jaw dropped as I spoke. She gasped dramatically. "My Lord, It's like they're the same as they were when I was a girl in the 30's and 40's."
"I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Ravenscroft planned their children to have the name's as their ancestors, Gram." I assured her.
"No, no, your descriptions match the people I knew perfectly. Hadrian had come down with a bad case of polio in 1944. He stayed in a wheelchair. They shut themselves out just a year later. It's like they completely fell off the grid."
I kept her statement in mind for the rest of the week. Vincent was my age, but I didn't see him in any of my classes. I asked some friends if they knew him. They did not.
On Friday, I did not walk home when I was dropped off the bus. Instead I walked a quarter of a mile down Cloves Road, passing the Lucas house. My shoes crept silently up the Ravenscroft porch. I banged my fist on the door. I felt a presence on the other side, peering through a peephole. The door pulled open, revealing Coraline, now in a blue plaid dress of the same style as the red one. "Lena! You've come to visit us again. Come in, please, come in."
I stepped inside and she pushed the door closed. This time I could see the glittering evergreen in the living room, wrapped around with golden tinsel and covered in silver strings. I thought they looked like icicles.
Vincent Ravenscroft appeared from the hallway. "She can't be here." He insisted.
Coraline stuck out her tongue. "She came here to play with me. Not you." She sneered triumphantly.
Hadrian wheeled himself down the hallway. "What's going on?" He asked, a twinkle in his eyes.
He reminded me of Gram's comment. I giggled out loud at her ridiculousness. Vincent shot me an appalled look.
"How dare you? Are you laughing at my brother's disability? You come into our home and make jokes?" He fumed.
"No! No, I would never do such a thing, I assure you."
"Then what is it that is so humorous?"
"Well." I began, unsure of what to say. "My Gram, she's a real goofball. She thinks you all are the same people she knew back when she was a kid. Back in the 30's and 40's. Isn't that silly? It's not even possible!" I laughed. No one laughed with me.
Mrs. Ravenscroft appeared behind Hadrian. Everyone was watching me, unsure of how to respond. Mrs. Ravenscroft broke the silence.
"She's right."