It's been a while since I shared any of my writing here, so here's a little piece of flash fiction for you. I've always thought about extending this story and making it a novel. But so far, I haven't....
Enjoy!
THE SECRET DOOR
I watched as the moving truck
pulled out of the driveway, leaving behind a trail of exhaust that faded into
nothingness within seconds. Behind
me, I could hear Josh already attacking the boxes and brown paper as he
excavated our belongings. I turned
away from the window and walked past Josh, wanting a few moments to wander the
house alone, getting a feel for the place before we filled it with stuff. This was going to be a new start for
Josh and I, we were going to move on with our lives and I wanted the move to be
in the right direction.
Our marriage had been severely
tested with the disappearance of our only son, Luke, two years earlier. He had been just three, a curious,
almost preternaturally cheerful child who had been snatched from us while our
backs were turned –just for the fraction of a second- while Christmas
shopping. After two years with no
ransom demands, and no sign of the boy, we had to assume the worst. Just last week we’d had a funeral for
him, burying a collection of his favourite toys in the coffin, and finally
saying goodbye.
The new house was supposed to be a
new beginning, but I could not help but feel uneasy. It was not the house I would have chosen, not the house Josh
would have picked either. Yet each
time we passed it, it seemed to call to us. We’d finally called the real estate agent and asked to take
a look, despite the fact we knew the neighbourhood was wrong for us, the house
too large.
As soon as we walked in we knew it
was out house. How, I couldn’t
tell you, but the feeling was there nonetheless.
The wooden floorboards in the
hallway glowed in the weak winter sunlight. They were heavily varnished and felt cool and smooth under
my bare feet, like walking on amber.
I climbed the stairs, allowing my toes to curl in the thick pile of the
carpet. At the top of the steps I
paused, looking down the wide hallway, doors opening off it here and
there. The bathroom, all blue and
white tile, then the room that would be my office, our bedroom, Josh’s man-cave
and….
I stopped, staring at a narrow door
I had not seen before. We’d been
to look at the house twice before finally deciding to purchase it, and I did
not remember seeing this door either time. I frowned, racking my brain for any recollection of this
door. Then I remembered the ornate wardrobe the previous owners had kept in the
hallway. It must have been in
front of this door.
Pulling on the doorknob, I was
surprised to find the door locked, or possibly jammed closed. In my pocket were all the keys the real
estate agent had passed on to us.
I dug them out and tried them, none working. A bobby-pin from my hair had the lock sprung in seconds. I hesitated before opening the door,
then went to the top of the stairs.
“Josh!” I called, certain he
wouldn’t hear me over the rock music he was playing in the living room. He must’ve unearthed the stereo
first. “Hey! Josh!”
“What?” Josh came into the hallway and looked up at me, his too-long
dark hair falling about his face.
“Come and look at this,” I
said. “There’s a mystery door up
here.”
Josh climbed up a few steps until
he was on the small triangular landing midway. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a door I never saw
before,” I explained. “You know
where they had that big antique armoire?”
“There’s a door there?” Josh’s long legs made short work of the
remaining stairs and he was beside me in seconds, staring down the hall at the
door. “Huh. Who would’ve thought?”
“It was locked,” I told him as we
walked the length of the hall. “I
sprung it, but I haven’t looked in there yet.”
As soon as Josh pushed open the
door the smell assaulted us. I
gagged at it, barely managing to hold down my lunch. I had a sudden memory of our honeymoon trip to Asia, the
stench of the open-pit toilets we’d been forced to use in more remote
areas. The air behind that closed
door smelled like that, of faeces and piss, lots of it.
“Ugh!” I groaned, stepping away
from the open door. “That’s disgusting!”
“What the hell is up there?” Josh peered up the narrow staircase,
but the light was too dim to see anything. “Hold on,” he whispered, although I’m not sure why. “I’m going to get a flashlight.”
It seemed eons before Josh returned
with the torch. I almost climbed
the steps alone, without it, but the foulness of the smell kept me at bay.
“Sorry,” Josh muttered as he shone
the beam of light up the staircase.
“I couldn’t find it. Had to
go through about twelve boxes. Why
was a flashlight in a box marked ‘kitchen goods?”
“We keep it in the kitchen.” I shrugged and Josh about to say
something more when a sound from above made us freeze.
It was a strange, mewling sound,
something between a baby’s cry and that of an injured cat. I glanced at Josh briefly, surprised by
the terror I saw in his eyes.
“I’m going up!” I whispered, taking
a deep breath and holding it before I plunged into the fetid air.
The stairway was narrow and creaked
as I climbed it. I looked over my
shoulder and found Josh right behind me, his forearm over his nose as he tried
to breathe shallow breaths through his mouth. The stairs ended abruptly and I found myself in a low
ceilinged attic room. The only
light spilled in through a single round window, coated with years of dust and
grime. Josh shone the flashlight around, revealing a pile of filthy bedding in
one corner. In another corner was
the source of the stench: a plastic bucket over-flowing with excrement. Flies buzzed lazily around it. I choked back nausea as I followed the
white beam around further, the light picking out what appeared to be a crumpled
pile of linen up against the far wall.
The pile moved slightly; I caught a
glimpse of an eye peeking out from the centre of the pile of rags. I was just starting towards it when the
sound made me stop in my tracks, mouth falling open with shock.
“Mama?” Luke croaked, the morbific sheets falling away from his
gaunt, pale face.
