That Old House

"And Karen's in on it too?"

"No. Karen can't see her, can't hear her, can barely feel her, and only if Mary really works at it. She's not family, and is too distant. She's not open."

"Why did you hide it from me? Both of you?" I asked.

"We didn't mean to. We were both concerned for you. I was someone she could turn to. We're a lot alike, Mary and I."

I felt her settle in next to me. Her soft touches, tentative.

"Is she the same for you as me?"

"No. She can communicate with me easier. It takes much less effort for her to speak with me. We don't know why. She says the same effort it takes to move something, she can talk to me. On the other hand, I'm not nearly as receptive to her touch. I've never seen her, but she says you can see her easily, when she makes the effort."

I turned to Mary, where I felt her pressed to my side. "Is that true?"

She appeared before me, smiling, nodding sadly. She pressed her lips to mine, and tugged my right ear.

"You didn't see her just now?" I asked Bev.

"Nothing. I could tell where she was from your reaction, but that's it. It doesn't make a lot of sense to me. I wonder if it's us, and not her."

"How much has she told you?" I asked, nervous.

Bev grinned. "Everything. And I mean everything. Like where she gets her strength from, if you're wondering. Pretty hard to believe."

Once I got past the irritation, it was better. Mary settled into my lap, while Bev and I talked on and on. For the first time I could question Mary, through our intermediary. Strangely I didn't have that much to ask her.

Our big question was how Karen would fit in. How would she take it? Bev and I both recognized how upset she would probably be, to find out she was sharing me with a woman who'd been dead for 80 years. A beautiful young who was getting a lot more sex than she was. We both understood we couldn't cut Mary off, only to have her fade away.

Until we had that figured out, we were sitting on a powder keg. In the meantime it was business as usual, unless Karen was out of The House.

* * *

Things happen for the strangest reasons. I wonder if there isn't some great cosmic comedian guiding us all.

Karen came home, after the heart-to-heart with Bev. She was glowing, but looked a little nervous. She called me downstairs, and I escorted Bev. She didn't need me to push her, she'd picked up a powered wheelchair, which gave her the run of the house. In the living room, Karen pulled me over to the couch and sat down with me.

"I got some news today. It wasn't what I was expecting. I hope you're Ok with it."

I didn't have time to wonder what she was talking about, because Bev immediately blurted. "You're pregnant!"

"Bev!" Karen snapped.

Bev looked suitable chastened while my mind did flip-flops. "Pregnant?"

"Are you angry? I know we haven't talked about it."

"Angry? Are you crazy? This is wonderful!" I stopped abruptly, wondering how she felt about it. "I mean, I think it's wonderful. Are you happy?"

She launched herself into my lap, kissing me. "As long as you are. I'm going to keep it."

"Of course you are. Was there any doubt?"

She shook her head. "I was just nervous to spring it on you. I think we might have to start talking about a date. I know I'm wearing your ring, but don't you think it would be good for our baby to have married parents?"

"Tomorrow if you want," I told her. "Whatever you want."

Karen and Bev looked at each other. "I don't think we're in that big a rush. I'd like to do it up right. Church wedding, lots of friends, the whole works."

I hugged her tightly, readily agreeing with whatever she wanted. I wasn't about to deny her anything.

She was carrying my baby.

* * *

We hired a housekeeper to help with caring for Bev, and to assist Karen with the day-to-day chores. Four women in the house, albeit one of them a little hazy. I wasn't complaining. I was happy.

When we got a chance, Bev, Mary and I would get together and talk. We were still trying to figure out how to deal with letting Karen in on our bizarre secret. Mary and I were getting together whenever we could, and it was getting awkward. We'd come close to getting caught, twice. We had to come up with a solution and soon.

Life took care of that.

* * *

It was a Saturday in May. Karen was showing, and all the more beautiful for it. I'd gone into town on an errand, leaving Karen and Bev alone.

I got home, and was barely in the door, before Mary had me by the hand, tugging me forward. On the second floor I found Bev at the base of the stairs, looking upward. I saw the third floor door was open, and my blood turned to ice in my veins.

"She wouldn't listen," Bev told me anxiously. "She says it's high time someone cleaned up there. I tried to stop her, I did."

Like Bev, I tried. I did. I made it up four stairs before my limbs locked up. I couldn't. "Karen?" I called out, hoping to coax her down the stairs. It was time, no matter what the fallout, she had to know. For her own safety, and that of our child.

No response. I fought my way up one more step. "Karen!" I shouted.

"Jack!" her desperate scream did what my own desire couldn't. She was in danger. Our baby was in danger. I took the stairs two at a time, fighting the terror welling up inside me. In the doorway I found her quickly, huddled in the corner, shaking. There was a broom in her hands, mop and bucket nearby. She was crying. Worse, my makeshift fireplace jam was askew, and flames were clawing their way out, edging past the end of the hearth, the wooden floor starting to blacken and smoke.

I don't know how I managed it, but I ran across the floor toward her. Before I reached her I was flung against the wall. "Run!" I screamed at her.

"I can't!" she cried, sobbing. I saw her struggling to move, going nowhere.

I screamed toward the stairwell. "Get help! They've got her. There's a..." I got not further, before being thrust away from her.

I got back on my feet, fighting back, once again feeling the malevolence, choking me, sending my heart racing out of control. I fought it, struggled forward, reaching for her. "Take my hand Karen!"

She reached out toward me, then slid across the wall, landing on her ass next to the fireplace. She was shying from the flames, turning her face away. The floor was charring, and looked like it was about to go up.

I struggled forward, making slow progress, taking blows to the body, but narrowing the distance between Karen and myself. "Come to me, please," I begged her.

She seemed unable to resist at all. Sobbing she reached toward me. "Help me," she begged.

I was almost to her, when the fireplace cover broke free, flying past me. A huge tongue of flame lashed out, a good three feet into the room, singeing my eyebrows. I screamed out, leaping toward Karen, only to fall short, and tumble to the side. She was screaming, moving inexorably toward the fire, her flailing arms and legs doing nothing to stop the movement.

Another tongue of flame burst forth, and one of the floorboards ignited. It was slow to catch, but I knew it was the beginning of the end. The memory of my last encounter was vivid in my mind. But I wouldn't give up. Never. I crawled forward with all I could, reaching toward her kicking leg. Somehow, I got my hand on the cuff of her pants. I started pulling, a deadly tug of war.

Instead of pulling her away from the fireplace, I was only drawing myself closer. She screamed again, as her other foot passed through the flames, the bottom of her jeans smoking. "Jack!" she shrieked.

Then she was tumbling into my arms. I knew why. I could feel her. Mary was there. I don't know how she did it, but she was with us. Fighting with us. For a moment I saw her, an out of control wild woman flailing away at the dark. And then she was gone.

I couldn't let her sacrifice be for naught. I ran for the stairs, dragging Karen behind me. I made it half way before I was thrown backward, tumbling, refusing to release my fiancée, my partner, the mother of my child. She was being dragged from me, and I saw the flames on the floor had spread, still only a few feet across, but growing. Our time was running out.

I threw myself at an angle, back toward the corner, away from the fire. Karen followed, still crying, screaming for help.

Then Mary was back. We were free again, and I wasted no time fighting toward the stairs. I thought I was going to make it, and then I was running alone, Karen skidding across the floor, sliding rapidly toward the flames. She seemed to hit a wall just a few feet short.

"You bastards!" I found myself screaming, as I ran forward, grabbing her by the waist, and pulling. She was nearly hysterical, but she clung to me, as I struggled to free her.

As abruptly as before, I knew I'd lost Mary again. Karen was being pulled from me, and for all my effort, I was losing. The fire was larger, several feet across, stretching into the room. I could feel the searing heat already, and I couldn't imagine how bad it was for Karen.

She was slipping from my grasp as I was pummeled. I saw the naked fear in her eye, and prayed that Mary could help us one more time. I couldn't do it alone. I couldn't last time, and this time it was worse.

"Leave her alone!"

Karen fell into my arms, and I could feel it. The strongest ever. Mary was back. Then I recognized the screaming fury, heard the words, the tone.

"Get out of my house! Leave us alone! I'll kill you. Kill you all!"

Tears rolled down my face, as I picked up Karen, holding her, backing up slowly toward the stairs. The fight was no longer mine, and I almost pitied the bastards.

The window shutters flew across the room, the glass shattering, letting the cool air in. Window after window burst open, and I was hunched over Karen protecting her from the flying glass. I couldn't stop watching, as the wind seemed to take form, the fire blown out, the fireplace suddenly black and empty.

Mary appeared before me, and pushed me toward the steps. I heard the shrieking and pounding at the far end of the room. I turned and carried Karen down the stairs.

At the bottom, I knew what I'd find, before I ever got there. Bev was lying on the floor, facing up the stairs, eyes open, staring lifelessly. I could still hear her voice, echoing down the stairwell. I put Karen down beside her, pulled my Mom's still warm body into my arms, and lost it.

* * *

"Go find Nana."

"Mom!" the precocious tyke sighed, exasperated. "She's already sitting down."

Karen turned toward the table, facing one of the two empty seats. "Bev, you know how I hate that. You're supposed to be watching Donnie."

"Aunt Mary left him in the bathroom. You know how he's getting. Doesn't like to be helped. He'll be here in a moment," I explained. I turned to the gorgeous lady sitting across from me. "You know the rules, Bev. Napkin off the plate when you're here."

"Spoilsport," Bev teased, shaking the napkin loose.

I still couldn't get over how different she was from Mary. She looked like she was in her twenties, giving Mary a run for the money in the looks department. She teased me a lot, but she wasn't like my other wife, seated beside me, patient as always.

None of us understand it. Bev doesn't need what Mary does. I'm not sure where she gets her energy from, but she has it in abundance. She claims it's love, and as long as we keep popping out kids, she'll stick around forever. The kids can hardly tell the difference between her and their parents. She's as real as can be, as far as they're concerned. Yet I can barely sense her touch, and Karen can't at all.

Both Liz and Donnie react to Mary much as Bev did. They can't see her, except a hazy outline on rare occasions, but they can hear her, and sometimes feel her. After 5 years, with me she can appear almost as real as Karen, when she wants to. I don't tell Karen that. She still has some jealousy issues.

Not many. Not after that day. I had a hard time explaining it to her, and a harder time getting her to believe it. No matter how hard she tries, she's not open to contact with them, accept a very rare touch.

But she understands. Bev gave her life to save her, to save us. Mary risked her existance, and was almost lost. It was weeks before she was more than a hint in the air. I might have thought we'd lost her, if Bev hadn't assured me she was there.

I feel sorry for Karen, and I know sometimes she feels left out. But she's loved by all of us, and when she gets out of sorts, it doesn't take much to remind her how loved she is. What we all risked.

Bev says we're safe. They're gone. She proudly proclaims she kicked their ass, and when we tease her at what cost, she laughs at us. She feels better than ever. She says she was on her last legs, and now thinks she'll be around to see her grandkids have grandkids. She just may at that.

Alright. It's not the most normal household. It's not that normal a house. But it works for us, most of the time. We have our issues, and I wonder how the kids are going to turn out, later in life, with the kind of upbringing they're receiving. If nothing else, it should be interesting.

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Thanks for reading my story. It's an entry in the Halloween contest and I'd appreciate the vote and any comments. It's what I labor for. If you enjoyed this tale, please let me know - TTT