Deb Baker - Ding Dong Dead

“Why the walkie-talkies,” Gretchen asked, “if we’re staying together?”

“In case.”

“In case what?”

Nina didn’t acknowledge her. “No detail is too small to log,” she said instead. “Caroline, you’re the official note taker, and I’ll snap photos with my digital camera.”

“What’s my job?” Gretchen asked. “Screaming in horror?”

“You do look a little pale. Want to wait outside?”

Gretchen shook her head.

“If the apparition starts speaking to us, I’m out of this building.” Her mother was beaming her light along the walls, illuminating doll displays, which morphed into horror dolls.

Gretchen was having serious second thoughts. One wrong sound and she’d beat her mother to the door.

Nina snapped her fingers. “That’s what I forgot. I knew there was something. I forgot an audio recorder.” Nina produced a heavy sigh of regret.

“Please, let’s get started,” Gretchen pleaded.

“The first thing we want to do is walk around so the spirit can feel our presence.”

After a pass through the lower rooms without anything unusual occurring, they gathered at the circular staircase. Gretchen shone her light up but saw only the empty steps.

“Everybody calm and relaxed?” Nina asked.

“Sure,” Gretchen lied.

Caroline nodded.

“Here we go.”

They slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor, guided by the flashlights’ beams. Nina puttered with her camera, taking pictures in the low light. Pictures of nothing, as far as Gretchen could tell.

They entered the storage room where Nina had first encountered her ghost. The doll travel trunk was lying open where they had left it.

Gretchen moved closer and shined her light toward it, aiming the beam directly at one travel sticker, then moving it to another, forgetting briefly about the ghost mission. Vintage stickers, faded with age, represented places Gretchen had dreamed of visiting. Cairo, London, Rome, Zimbabwe, Jericho. How romantic it must be to visit such exotic, historical cities. Especially for a young girl in the 1920s. Had Flora, her doll, and its trunk really been to all these places? Or did someone bring back the stickers for her?

Gretchen was fascinated with the little girl from the photograph, but she was completely mesmerized by the doll and its wooden trunk. Her imagination soared every time she thought of the travel stickers.

“Come on, Gretchen,” Nina said, bringing her back to the moment. “We’ll walk slowly through the second-floor rooms. I’ll take a few pictures here and there if I have an overwhelming sense of otherworldly motion, then we’ll use this room as a base for the rest of the night.”

“The rest of the night?” What was Nina thinking?

“This is a mission,” Nina said. “Not a lark.”

They wandered through the dark house, staying close to each other. Floorboards squeaked underfoot. Shadows swirled just outside their beams of light, forming into nocturnal creatures-bats, wolves, clawed animals. Gretchen was getting edgier by the second.

When she found herself lagging behind and alone in one of the rooms, she almost panicked. That’s when she decided to get a better grip on her runaway emotions. She wasn’t going to let a ghost reduce her to a babbling ball of blubber. Even if this house contained an authentic spirit, what could it do to her? It had no substance. It couldn’t pick up a vase and break it over her head.

She was in a large room, obviously the master bedroom at one time. A triple armoire with a beveled mirror loomed directly ahead, taking up most of the space on the wall. On her left was a king-size bed with a heavy wood frame. The mattress was protected with a dustcover. Beneath her feet was a faded Persian rug.

Gretchen peered out a set of French doors that led to the balcony overlooking the street. The ground seemed far below.

Two beams of light in the hallway assured her that Nina and Caroline were right outside. Nina’s husky voice floated on the air, speaking to her mother. Another assurance that she wasn’t really alone.

With a rush of nervous excitement, Gretchen realized that she did believe in ghosts. Why else would she feel this frightened by the prospect? Could she communicate with it?

Gretchen focused on reaching out to the apparition.

If you exist, let me feel your presence.

She listened.

Nothing.

She had conveyed doubt with her thoughts. No ifs.

Let me feel your presence.

Gretchen waited.

Nothing.

Come on. Help me out. Show yourself.

She strained to hear sound. Was there a chill in the air? She’d heard about cold spots.

Silence.

Then a sound.

A noise, like a mouse. An old house like this could have nests of them. Rats, even. Gretchen hated insects and rodents, and Arizona had especially nasty ones, poisonous things with stingers and teeth. And pack rats.

The sound again, coming from over by the wall near the armoire.

She shined her beam of light directly into the mirror. Her reflection was distorted. She looked pale, as Nina had said. Ready to flee. At least nothing stood behind her. Wouldn’t that be frightening? To look in the mirror and see something not quite human behind her?

She opened the armoire doors and peered inside, finding nothing but emptiness and a faint smell of cedar.

“There you are,” Nina said from right behind her. Gretchen gave in to her fears and let out a scream.

“Shhh,” her aunt scolded. “You’ll frighten the spirit.”

Her mother stood next to Nina.

“You scared me almost to death!” Gretchen’s heart pounded at full throttle.

“We came to find you.” Nina was admiring the armoire. “Antique and in perfect condition. Some of the really old ones had secret compartments built into them.”

“To hide an illicit lover?” Gretchen’s petrified imagination was going strong tonight.

“Exactly. Let’s check it out.”

“I was over by the door when I heard a sound from this direction,” Gretchen said. “It must have been a mouse running along the wall behind the armoire.”

“I’ll take a look,” Caroline said.

Gretchen stepped inside the armoire and tapped the back wall of the enormous walk-in wardrobe. Her curiosity over the possibility of a secret place was stronger than her fear. Besides, she wasn’t alone anymore. She tapped the back panel again. “It sounds hollow, doesn’t it?”

“Do it one more time.” Nina came closer and put her ear against the panel. Gretchen tapped with her knuckles again, staring at her aunt, waiting for her opinion. Nina’s eyes grew wide and she nodded.

“No sign of rodent droppings back there,” Caroline said, coming around. “I’ll call an exterminator tomorrow to be on the safe side.”

“Come inside,” Nina called out. “Gretchen’s found a real honest-to-goodness secret room.”

“How does the door open up?” Gretchen ran her hand over the wood, feeling for a latch or release.

“How would I know?” Nina answered. “I’ve never been inside one before. But hurry. Maybe it leads into the secret world of Narnia.”

Gretchen couldn’t help chuckling. “Why am I not surprised that you believe in fantasy worlds?” she said.

Her fingers felt something, a patch of felt, followed by the cold touch of metal. She felt it give and heard the lock release. The secret door moved ever so slightly, allowing her to get her fingers between it and the wall of the armoire.

“Ready for another universe, Nina?”

The secret door swung open. Gretchen backed up, trying to remember where she’d left her flashlight. She bumped into Nina, who moved sideways and swung her own flashlight beam into the gaping cavern of darkness they had uncovered. Her light flicked along the top of the armoire compartment then swept lower along the rich wood panel. Nina worked the light downward until it lit up something near the floor.