Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Can you begin by telling us a bit about yourselves?” Robin asks.
The Vanderwalls don’t look at one another. Larry seems uneasy, rubbing his hands on his slacks and glancing around everywhere but at the camera.
Karen stares coldly at Patricia Montague.
“What do you want to know? We’ve been married for eight years and have a seven-year-old son.
I’m—I was—a stay-at-home mom. Larry worked in finance.
We both dreamed of owning our own business, so we decided to sell everything, have Larry quit his job, and buy a place we could turn into a bed and breakfast. But her daddy sold us a haunted house! ”
“The stories of a flaming ship were fully disclosed at the time of the sale,” Montague replies coolly. “As was the only known death in the house.”
Robin leans forward, as if she wants to stretch out her hand to Karen’s knee, though she doesn’t. “No one realized the house was haunted, but now that we know, we’re going to try and fix it. If you can just tell us how things started…?”
Karen glances down, gathering her thoughts.
“Everything was fine at first. The house seemed perfect. Well, not perfect, it needed a lot of work. I mean perfect for us to fix up and turn into our dream B&B. The only strange thing was that Andy started talking about a new imaginary friend almost as soon as we moved in.”
“We thought she was imaginary,” Larry puts in.
“Right. Well, anyway, he’d never had one before, but we figured he was just lonely.
We’re busy with the renovations, and he doesn’t have anyone to play with.
But he was having a good time—running around the island, building driftwood forts on the beach, that sort of thing.
All with what we thought was his imaginary friend, Gloria. ”
“Then things got creepy.” Larry doesn’t seem able to focus his gaze on anything, eyes darting around like a prey animal in the open.
“He found the key to the uppermost room of the tower. Beneath what would be the light, if it was a real lighthouse. It was locked—we’d been looking for the key, because we didn’t want to have to pay for a locksmith to come all the way out here.
And I’d have to go pick him up in the boat, and—”
His wife clears her throat.
“Anyway, Andy came up to me with the key one day. He said Gloria told him where to find it. I thought he’d just stumbled on it while playing—we’d had some thunderstorms and he was stuck inside for the afternoon.
But then he started talking about Pawpaw—my grandfather, I mean, not his—who died when I was a teen.
Talking about the still Pawpaw had behind his property over in Iredell county.
I’d never told Andy about that, I mean he’s only seven, he doesn’t know what moonshine even is. He said Gloria had told him that, too.”
Larry rubs his hands over his face, as if he can’t believe his own words.
His wife takes up the narrative. “There were more things like that. I can make a list if you want. Enough that we thought we’d try talking to Gloria ourselves.
” She drops her gaze to her lap. “Larry still had his Ouija board from college, so one night after Andy was in bed, we tried it. I know you’re not supposed to, you must think we’re stupid—”
“Talking boards have been used since the late 1800s without incident,” Dr. Lawson interrupts from behind the camera. “There’s nothing inherently evil or bad about a Ouija board, despite what the movies think.”
“If you say so.” Karen sounds skeptical now. “Because things got a lot worse after we used it. Not the first time—Gloria told us a lot of things, brought us messages from relatives who passed years ago. Then she asked if we wanted to know where the treasure was buried.”
“Treasure?” Montague asks. It’s her turn to sound skeptical.
“Well sure.” Karen seems taken aback. “Everyone knows Blackbeard buried treasure all over the Outer Banks.”
“Of course we said yes.” Larry turns to the camera, his eyes finally finding something to focus on. “We’ve sunk every penny we have into this place. Uprooted our family—Andy had to leave his friends, and we’re going to homeschool him starting this fall. So we went out and dug in the dunes—”
“And we didn’t find anything,” Karen cuts him off. “Gloria was lying. Maybe playing a prank on us.”
“Right.” Larry looks away again. “It wasn’t long after that the problems started. Tools disappearing and turning up places we wouldn’t have left them, like under our bed or in the freezer. I swear someone pushed me while I was on a ladder painting the crown molding—I almost fell.”
“Objects were thrown across the room, dishes broken, footsteps running up and down the halls at night.” Karen leans into Larry for comfort, but he doesn’t put an arm around her. “It got really scary.”
“Then Andy started having nightmares.” Larry glances up, as if he can see his son’s room above them.
“He wakes up crying, saying ‘the bad man’ is in his room. We thought—hoped—it was a phase, that he was just having nightmares, but no. I saw a man walking down the hall one night. I yelled at him, but when he turned around and I saw his face…”
A visible shudder runs through him. This time, Robin does touch his knee, her expression one of gentle concern. “The dead can look frightening.”
“You can say that again.” He takes his wife’s hand. “He ran at me—I just about shit myself.” A look toward the camera. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t curse.”
“No one will see these tapes but us,” Lawson assures him. “What happened when the spirit rushed you?”
“Fortunately, he disappeared about halfway down the hall. But that was enough for me. I told Karen we need help, so she called—”
A muffled scream sounds from somewhere off camera.
Both parents bolt from the couch, followed by Robin and Montague. The camera shifts, Lawson curses—then it’s off the tripod, the view bobbing wildly as she runs after the others. Out into the hall, up the stairs, past the second floor to the third.
At the end of the hall, a door stands open. As Lawson approaches, the camera shows a glimpse inside the room: a screaming boy, toys flying in a whirlwind around him. His father ducks inside, arms up to fend off the toys—
They all crash to the ground simultaneously.
Larry scoops up the howling child, patting him on the back. Robin joins them, perhaps murmuring words of comfort.
Karen turns to Lawson and Montague, her eyes wide and wild. “You see what we’re dealing with? Your daddy sold us this place! You have to help us!”
Montague’s face is set with determination. “We will. I promise.”