The House - 7

I waited for the door bell to ring but it didn’t. Loud thumping startled me and then the muffled sound of calling from the other side of the door. “Lottie, are you in there?” I went down the hall to the side door. All kinds of questions were flooding me. Who could be here? What do they want? Why the bag? Who would come here so late in the day? It is time for me to get the children ready for bed and now a stranger is at my door. Perhaps they are lost, but why the premonitions? Apprehensive, I opened the door and found myself staring into the face of an old friend. She was in such a state of upheaval. Even her bag was a mess. Broken handle tied together with string and old shoe laces. Her hair, once a symbol of order and perfection was now tangled and disorderly. It looked like a self hair-cut hair style. Old make-up caked the skin around her eyes, darkening them and giving her a creepy appearance.

“Georgia?” I ventured.

“Can I come in?” she whined her question, as though she had a right and I was preventing her.

“Well, I suppose.” I stammered, not sure what to say. I moved out of her way and she walked right in and started looking around as if she might find someone else here. I checked the doorbell. It worked. Startled me!

“Oh, does it work?” she asked, “It didn’t work for me.”

Feeling strange I looked down the hallway toward the kitchen. The doors to the rooms were closed. The library and laundry room doors were closed. The door to the upstairs was closed and the great dining room door was closed. These doors were always open. The hair on my head stood up. This part of the house is the original house. The other parts were all added on later. Rooms were separated by doors and hallways. The kitchen off the back of the house had later been remodeled to accommodate modern appliances and part of it turned into a breakfast nook. It is a large open area with a small couch along one wall. It serves as an everything room, cooking, eating and lounging. The large door and four windows look out onto a veranda and the back yard where the children love to play. It is a warm and inviting space painted in shades of strong yellows and deep orange. The woodwork is a rich cherry red color. I love this room. I welcomed Georgia in. She was still looking around curiously.

She needed to use the bathroom. Even the bathroom door had closed. She could not open it. I went to investigate but had no problem opening the door. I have not felt afraid in this house before. It has been a sanctuary for me. But this night I began to feel overwhelmingly afraid. I was afraid of Georgia. I’m not sure why I was afraid of her. If I had run into her somewhere else I would have been happy to see her. But the way she came at the end of the day like this, unannounced, bedraggled and demanding, made me suspicious of her. I know what a friend feels like I think. I have had friends before, haven’t I? I had wondered, on a few occasions, about Georgia and wouldn’t it be great to see her again. I had imagined giving each other warm hugs and sipping coffee in a coffee shop somewhere. I had never imagined her like this. Even her car was so unlike her. Georgia was the one who had it all together. The promising one.

I was becoming afraid of the house as well, with it’s creaking and groaning, doors closing and locking and the doorbell. The way the house felt earlier before she drove up the driveway. The way it felt as though it were growing around me and pulling me in. The kitchen being the only place in the house which feels the same as it always does. I sat down between Greta and Teddy, my arms around them, thinking, thinking. What is going on! Loud banging and thumping on the bathroom door, some unladylike language and the door opened and then a crash.

“Oh my gosh, shit!” Loud gushing complaints coming from down the hall.

Teddy started to cry. It sounded like she had tripped on the rug and fallen down.

“Are you alright?” I ventured.

“This house is fuck'n haunted!” she cried out. “There is some really weird shit going on here.”

Now Greta was crying too.

“Georgia!” I cried out, “my babies are here, and we are rated G. Please!?”

“G! Lottie you haven’t changed a bit. I came here to see you, I need a place to stay. You’re the only person I can count on.”

“How did you find us?” I questioned, overlooking the weirdness of that statement.

“I ran into Stan. He said you had gone North and were staying with your Grandma. I looked her up on Google. Fuck him. He made it sound like you lived in a palace. He didn’t say you were living in a dilapidated haunted house. Fuck him.” Her hand went over her mouth. “I’m sorry!” Both kids were crying loudly. She looked at them with disgust. “I thought we’d catch up and drink some beers.”

“I don’t drink.” I told her. I was not liking her at all anymore. She was not at all as I remembered her.

“I don’t care,” she offered, “I can drink wine.”

“I don’t drink wine either.” I said, my voice becoming icy.

“What the fuck do you drink?” she demanded. Her hand swooped over her mouth again. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Water.” I answered and carrying Teddy in one arm led Greta out of the kitchen by the hand. We headed down the hall to the Master bedroom which was Great-nana’s room. “Sleep where ever you want.” I hollered back at her. We closed the bedroom door behind us. The room was warm and inviting. The Master bathroom and large bedroom, one large safe place. I felt the walls rap around us and sensed a safety in them. I knew that she would not be able to open any doors. I didn’t care. I couldn’t. I had two beautiful little people right here, who were tired and distressed, to think about and care for.

It was beginning to dawn on me that the house, which had been becoming creepy and had been filling me with fear, was actually protecting us from something. Something which had to do with Georgia. I touched the wall with my open hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

By Elizabeth Williams, writing exercise, 1,123 words.


To read the next chapter:  The House 8,  The House 9
Previous chapters of The House:  The House 6,  The House 5 , The House 4 , The House 3 , The House 2 , The House 1