Bentley Little - The House

"Do you know where it is?" she repeated.

He stared at the picture. "I was pretty young, but I

know we were traveling around northern California for a month or so. I can't recall if we were on a vacation or just bumming around--you know how Mom and Dad were--but we'd stopped in this small gold-rush town somewhere in the Sierras. I don't remember the name, but I'd probably be able to pick it out if I saw a map or something."

She smiled at him, punched his arm playfully. "And you were only four years old? That's pretty impressive."

"I grew up to be an under achiever."

"So what happened?"

"We stayed in town for a day or so, then we went out to visit these people. They might've been friends of Mom and Dad's or maybe someone in town told them about them. I can't remember. All I know is that pretty soon we were driving down this winding little road through the forest, looking for these people who sold lamb's wool blankets. We passed through a clearing where there were people selling juice and fruit from a little roadside stand, and Dad bought me some blackberry juice. That part's pretty clear. Then the next thing I remember is being at this big giant house in the middle of nowhere." He tapped a finger on the picture. "This house." He frowned. "Come to think of it, I think they might've been friends. It seemed like they knew each other from somewhere before, because they greeted each other like they were old pals."

"Did you stay there?"

"Oh, yeah. For several days."

Laurie shook her head wonderingly. "How come I

don't remember any of this?"

"That's the funny thing. I don't remember you either. I mean, you must've been there, but I

just remember this weird old couple--" He looked at her. "Sorry. No offense--and this . . . overpowering house. I mean, I know now that the house was on a vortex, but back then I just thought it was scary."

"So you don't remember me at all?"

He shook his head.

What about the man who'd lived with them? she wondered.

Her father's friend. She thought hard, tried to remember his name. She could see his face, hear his voice, but she couldn't quite- Billington.

That was it.

"Do you remember anyone else?" she asked.

He frowned. "No . . ." he said slowly. "I don't think so."

"Who took the picture?"

He looked at it again. "I don't remember. A man, I think."

"Was his name Billington or something like that?"

"I don't remember."

"Did you see anyone else while you were there?" She licked her lips. "A girl maybe?"

He picked up on it instantly, glancing sharply at her.

"The girl in your dreams?"

She nodded a reluctant acknowledgment. "I think her name was Dawn."

"And that's the same girl you saw in the alley?"

Already there were goose bumps on her arm. "I

think so."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't know before. I just sort of ... It's coming back slowly. And I can't remember half as much as you remember. And you were younger than me." She paused. "Trauma, probably."

"Trauma?"

"I think my parents were killed."

A pause. "I figured it was probably something like that."

"You don't remember anyone except my parents?"

"Sorry." He shook his head. "But I want to know more about this girl. Dawn. When you saw her in the alley, when you dreamed about her, she looked like she did ... then?"

"She looked exactly the same."

"You think she was killed, too?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"You think you saw a ghost?"

"No."

"A hallucination?'

"No."

They were both silent for a moment.

"So what happened while you were there?" Laurie asked finally. "What else do you remember?"

Josh chewed his lower lip, a thinking habit he'd had since childhood. "I remember being scared. I remember a long hallway. With dark wood and red velvet. Like a Victorian whorehouse. I remember not being able to sleep because I kept hearing weird noises. A tapping.

Like someone was knocking on my door, trying to get in. I remember that I thought your parents didn't really seem happy to see us. Like we'd come at a bad time or something. Like they were fighting but had to pretend to get along because they had company." He met her eyes. "And I remember that your dad got really mad at me because I was late for breakfast. I was tired and Mom and Dad let me oversleep, and your dad went crazy. My parents and your parents almost got in a screaming match, and I felt really guilty. I'd already woken up and come downstairs to eat, and I heard them fighting and I started crying. Mom and Dad tried to comfort me, but your dad said something like, 'That's what he deserves.' " Josh's voice had fallen almost to a whisper.

"Your dad scared me. I didn't like him."

Laurie hugged her brother. "I don't think I would've either." She smiled at him. "I'm glad Mom and Dad adopted me."

"I am too."

She pulled away. "What else?"

"That's it, really. I think we did buy some blankets from them, although I'm not sure that's why we really went over there."

"Then what?"

He shrugged. "We left. Continued on with our vacation or our travels or whatever it was. We finally settled in Thripp's Crossing, and a couple months later, you showed up."

"I just showed up?"

"Well no, not literally. Mom and Dad left. I stayed with Mrs. Kylie, and when they came back they had you."

"They never told you why? Never explained why you suddenly had a new sister?"

"Nope."

Laurie sighed. "I don't remember any of that at all. I

wish I did, but it's all a big blank."

Josh handed her back the photo. "I never put two and two together before this. I never realized that those people were your real parents. I remembered them, I remembered the trip, but I don't remember you there, so I never connected it. When I saw that picture, though .. .

something clicked."

"For me too." She grabbed another handful of photographs out of the box. "Let's see if we can find some other ones."

"There's one more thing," Josh said slowly.

Laurie looked up, and she realized that she was already holding her breath.

"I've never told this to anyone before, and I don't know if it really happened or if I just dreamed it or . . ."

He trailed off.

"What?"

"I might've just imagined it."

"What?"

"I think I watched your mother kill a lamb."

She shook her head, confused. "I don't ... I don't understand. You watched her slaughter a lamb?"

"No. The lamb was in my room. I don't know why. It wasn't night, it was daytime, but it was always dark inside that house and there wasn't much difference. I'd just come in from outside and I was going to ... I don't know, get a comic book out of my suitcase or something. I ran upstairs as fast as I could because I wanted to get back down to where Mom and Dad were as quickly as possible, and there was this lamb in my bed. Just standing there on the mattress. The covers were pulled down, and it was just . . . baaing. It couldn't really move because it was heavy and the mattress wasn't that stable, and it looked at me and cried.

"And then your mom came out of my closet and told me she was sorry, the lamb wasn't supposed to be in my room, and she lifted it off the bed and . . . slammed it onto the ground."

Laurie could not believe she'd heard right. "What?"

"She lifted the lamb over her head, like a weight lifter or something, and threw it down on the floor as hard as she could and . . . killed it. It didn't move, didn't make any noise, and she picked it up and smiled at me and apologized again and carried it out of the room. There was blood dribbling out of its mouth, but the carpeting was dark red already and you couldn't really see where it dripped. Like I said, I don't know if that was a nightmare and I imagined it or if it really happened, but I