House of Darkness House of Light (11 page)

~ Cynthia tempting fate again ~

 
sounds of silence

“God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer.”

Mother Teresa

Solitary confinement is frequently utilized as a cruel form of punishment; with purpose and reason. Carolyn spent many hours alone; even though April was at home with her, the baby of the family often occupied her time playing upstairs with
sister
toys while they were away at school. The farmhouse was enormous. Both remained isolated within a shared space. Carolyn sometimes heard April off in the distance, chattering incessantly, dragging her multitude of toys across the floor from room to room through an expansive upper deck. At times an object would get wedged into one of the holes of ornate wrought iron grates installed in the ceiling. Carolyn would answer a damsel in distress call, poking them back through with a broomstick: “Thanks, mom!” drifting down from above; a bright, angelic face appearing in the portal.

For the most part, Carolyn relished this solitude. Once all obligations were met she’d steal some time for herself. It was always time well spent, wrapped up in a warm blanket, cradling a book. The ladies often checked in with each other. It was understood; a reasonable expectation between mother and child. April knew her mom would prepare lunch. They would come together in the kitchen around noontime to share a meal. Mom knew her baby would nap for an hour or so after her belly was full. It was their routine; the calm before the storm which inevitably blew in as gale force wind once four siblings arrived; quite like clockwork, appearing on the threshold each and every afternoon; as predictable as sunrise…sunset…sunrise…sunset. Quickly fly the years.

The house absorbed light and sound. It was a vacuum of sorts, like a black hole in the cosmos. Windows upstairs were rather small; the middle bedroom a beneficiary of only one rectangular light source tucked into the outside wall above the eaves, a window which seemed to belong in the captain’s quarters of a great ship. The chimney closet was always warm and cozy. It was space April chose, assembling an elaborate village for the
Little People
; gifts they received at Christmas: a collection of wooden miniatures, each figure painted with primary colors. Combining figures to create a community, during school days April had them all to herself or so thought her mother. With benefit of only one bulb the space a child shared behind a chimney became illuminated. Safe haven: an escape hatch from the cold. From one reality into another: as a rendezvous point where ethereal met corporeal…to play. April had a secret.

As Carolyn stood at the sideboard in the kitchen, she distinctly heard the familiar sounds of movement upstairs. It provided a certain comfort to hear a little one above her, smiling at the thought of her daughter having so much time and space to be a child. At this exact instant, April appeared beside her mother; sound silenced overhead. Bright blue eyes peeked out from behind a mass of blond; a meshed web of shiny strands requiring the stroke of a brush. “Hi!” Carolyn leapt from her daughter, a spontaneous reaction she could not avoid, startling both of them. She peered up toward the ceiling, trying to hear anymore movement. Her immediate thought was of an intruder in the house. She bolted through a hallway from which April emerged; climbing stairs two steps at a time; mind flooding with regrets at an obvious oversight: failing to bring along something made of cast iron…as a weapon. Searching bedrooms one at a time, Carolyn found nothing amiss. Quickly returning to find April, anxious to make amends, as she had frightened the child, they met halfway in the middle bedroom upstairs. Carolyn had been followed. April’s unexpected presence again startled the woman, a bit on the jittery side of a new reality.

“What’s wrong, mom?” Breathless, April was curious and equally alarmed.

“Nothing honey; I thought I heard something. That’s all.”

“Maybe you did.” An innocent voice: “I hear stuff up here all the time.”

“What kind of
stuff
do you hear?” April shrugged her shoulders then took her mother by the hand, leading her out of one bedroom into another.

Her heart still pounding from the sprint, Carolyn did not follow up on these remarks at the time. April asked if she could go back into the chimney closet to play but her mother was reluctant to allow her to return. Instead, she took her daughter downstairs into the kitchen where they’d play a spirited game of
Chutes and Ladders
. April won. Her mother made sure of it.

Over lunch, Carolyn inquired about what April had heard in the house. The child had already moved on, other thoughts occupying her mind. She did not respond in any depth of description, only telling her mother she heard noises coming from other rooms when she was in the closet. This was true of all the residents, especially during the night. Whether it was a brisk wind whistling through the eaves or a poorly stacked log in the woodshed taking a tumble or the natural expansion and contraction of the structure, the
quiet
home made a great deal of sound in the darkness; no silent nights there but it was daytime.

Carolyn put April down for a nap. Indulging a cup of coffee, in preparation for the chaos which would surely ensue when her darlings disembarked from a bus in the coming hour, she leaned into the sofa, listening to the house with new ears…looking with new eyes. She began wondering if the seclusion had tricked her senses or bewitched her mind. No. Her senses were working fine.

There was no doubt about it. Their farmhouse was cavernous. As the light dispersed it would dissipate, as if being absorbed. Sounds were warped and distorted within plaster walls; it would either become magnified or be utterly lost in the ether. When amplified, the home seemed to be wired for sound: no privacy in even a whisper. At other times, an opposite effect occurred and the most vehement shout was inaudible at the slightest distance. The house broke all the basic rules of physics, what human beings have long presumed to be a given: Immutable Laws of the Universe. Having never before encountered something so bizarre, she marveled; its acoustics defied logic. Had she been a natural scientist, perhaps it would have made some sense. No longer merely a matter of intellectual curiosity, Carolyn found herself concerned about the welfare of her child this February morning; she could not attribute the sounds she’d heard overhead to anything or anyone, yet she experienced it. Until that morning she had assumed there was a rational and reasonable explanation for everything; a sensible notion being formally challenged. Imagine.

Unique acoustics could not explain the event. Contemplating exactly what happened and when, Carolyn re-created the moment in mind when April was standing beside her. She recalled reverberations in the floorboards overhead. Impossible! Considering what had transpired from every conceivable angle, she could not reconcile the event or comprehend any scenario which satisfied the physical science, short of an intruder being in their house; the fear still at work lurking in her consciousness. So many places to hide, so many different ways to enter; their only security was born of isolation. With April a few feet away on the sofa comfort came in watching her daughter sleep as it had when listening to her play upstairs. A perceived threat prompted visceral reactions: alarm; sensory signal indicating a violation of sanctuary: Fear: the intruder.

For the first time, Carolyn sensed another presence. An odd queasiness, a sickening bile-driven twisting of her stomach occurred, one which she could not ignore. Blaming the coffee, she pushed it away in disgust. This dis/ease persisted for several minutes, a perception that she was not alone. The light was changing. The air felt heavy; thick and dark. Carolyn lowered her head, waiting for it to pass. It did. The pallor lifted as if evaporating and then it was over, as quickly as it had come. Slowly raising her head, as if retreating from a solemn prayer, she distinctly heard her baby breathing softly from across the room. Shaking off an eerie sensation she glanced down at her wristwatch. The girls were due home at any minute! Shocked to realize so much time had lapsed, certain it’d been only a few moments, Carolyn reached for her coffee. It was ice cold, as was the parlor. Glancing up toward their antique clock, it was no longer keeping proper time. It had stopped almost two hours before; about the time she’d put April down for a nap. Disoriented, she stared at the silent timepiece. Roger had relocated it from the kitchen wall because of the same problem. A reliable heirloom he inherited after his father’s untimely death, Roger’s most prized possession, a familiar tick ~ tock just stopped; its pendulum stilled by some unknown force. Why it kept failing was anyone’s guess. Perhaps the walls were uneven; one theory. As Carolyn made her way over to April, bringing a warm blanket along, she gently placed it across her daughter. Soundly asleep, April did not stir, no notice taken of the extra layer being added to her nap. Carolyn was relieved she hadn’t awakened while her mother was stricken by whatever it was that had a hold of her. There was no time remaining to consider this anomaly further. The school bus had arrived and she had to head the girls off at the pass before they woke up their sister. Racing through the house yet again, she caught them at the kitchen door. A promise was issued: hot chocolate and cookies if they’d only be
quiet
while April slept. Agreed! While all the ladies gathered around the table enjoying a snack, their littlest sister wandered into the room, wrapped in the blanket her mother had provided. The disgruntled youth quickly confronted her siblings, demanding an explanation: a reason
why
she had been so rudely awakened a few moments earlier! Boo! Who?

“Who shook me like that!?” Rubbing her eyes, the angry pout seemed cute to her sisters and they laughed but Carolyn was not amused. She left the baby behind in the parlor to spare her such an intrusion and none of them had left the kitchen since their arrival. Maybe adding the extra blanket disturbed her sleep, after all. Carolyn pulled her five year old into her lap, comforting the tearful child, speaking softly in her ear; a reassurance
no one
had approached her. Was it a bad dream? No! Adamant one of her mischievous sisters struck, shoved then ran, there was no convincing her otherwise. Her siblings became regretful and equally sympathetic, acknowledging their baby sister’s distress. Carolyn, once again overcome by the same sickening feeling she’d struggled to dispel, cringed in disbelief. What…
who
was happening in her house?

Cheerful children spent their evening dour and withdrawn. Whatever
it
was that woke April also scared her; when it came time for bed, she refused to go. Andrea invited her to spend the night but she insisted on staying with mom, and mom agreed, grateful for company. Anxiously awaiting Roger’s return, they had much to discuss; she hoped he would shed new light on the matter.

Unable to sleep that night Carolyn sat quietly on the sofa, listening intently, absorbed in the sounds of silence. Moon nearly full, it bathed the house with its soft night light, reflecting off the surface of the snow-laden Earth. Winds were calm; barely audible. Tranquility reigned. A jittery mother had begun to relax, feeling somewhat foolish about her initial reactions to events earlier in the day; episodes which had severely rattled her nerves. Dismissing her own reliable senses, Carolyn began reconciling with herself, coming to terms with her own self-doubt. Any conflict internalized is one always lost. A resolution came quickly once she allowed herself the room to be wrong. Yes. Of course a nimble child could make it down a set of stairs
just that fast
. Yes. All kids have nightmares from time to time, even during the day. She disturbed April herself…the only one to blame. Later, crawling in bed beside her littlest girl, Carolyn finally fell asleep.

Returning home to an exceedingly warm welcome, in spite of the season, Roger greeted his girls as they got off the bus the next afternoon. He arrived earlier than expected, due to a fierce, impending snowstorm which followed him home from upstate New York. Having gone shopping somewhere along the route, he promised his girls, if they would all help him dig out (like it was optional) he would have plenty of snacks available as a reward. A perfect snow day was pending: a day off from school for sure, maybe more than one! A snowstorm held great promise; shoveling, sledding and, oh yes, Twinkies! Long before
junk food
became a common phrase, let alone a staple of the American diet (with the status of
food group
), Carolyn knew what to avoid. She allowed it only occasionally…and this was one of those times. They had a deal. Roger seemed excited by the prospect of being house bound for a day or two. He had just come from a very successful trip and needed some rest. Well aware he had been on the road and away from his family an inordinate amount of time in recent weeks, it was his chance to spend a little time with them before heading back out on the highways, forced to sleep in roadside motels at ten bucks a night. It was one tough way to make a living to be sure, but he was growing a business, affording his family the farm. For this reason alone, Roger found it gratifying. Over the next few days it would be
his
turn to enjoy the place he was working so hard to provide for his loved ones.

Right on schedule: snowstorm blew in with a vengeance. What had anyone done to deserve such an onslaught? It seemed like an explosion of snow. One moment dark, brooding clouds gathered like a gang plotting on the horizon. The next, it was beating on their windows and doors, attempting an unlawful entry. That night Roger did the honors, tucking his girls into bed, presenting each of them with a brand new electric blanket; gifts warmly
received. April had forgotten about any trepidation she had the night before, going happily to her own bed with her very new very pink blanket, one with soft satin trim, so bright it seemed to glow in the dark…like a night light!