I pulled up the drive and parked a little back from the house and not under the carport. I wanted to look around, breathe in the nostalgia so to speak. I got out and looked at the house, the brick chimney, the huge bay window that looked into the dining room where I'd spent my winters reading. I looked at the little patio out front and the huge redbud tree that had overgrown to almost completely hide the patio beneath it. Even the huge industrial spool was under the tree, still serving as an outdoor table. I turned to look around the side at the large silver gas tank that I used to pretend was a horse. The apple trees were just beyond, though they had lost all their fruit and leaves for the year. Finally, I looked out at the view. The house had been built just below the top of the hill. The crest was city property, there were plugs all over saying it was a historical landmark. There had been many battles fought in the top of that large hill and so many legends. I had spent my summers on that hill searching for civil war treasures and indian relics. The house was built just below the city property line, still high on the hill, but not the top. Still high enough to sled in the winter.
I had lived in that house with my father and grandmother for thirteen years. I was four when we moved in and seventeen when I joined the military and left, never looking back. I had my reasons. Now though, I had reasons to come back. I remembered the good things about the house, the things I had loved.
When Gran had passed, she left the house to me, but my dad had stayed in it until two years ago when he moved in with his then girlfriend, now wife. She was my age. I didn't know her, but I hated her. I had stayed in Kansas City, working, living in a big house with my boyfriend and our roommates, another couple.
When the lease was coming up two months ago, our roommates mentioned moving out, getting their own place, getting married. My boyfriend had mentioned maybe we should get married too. I was happy, right up until Sonja, my roommate, took me aside and told me not to marry him. She showed me pics of girls he had brought home, to our bed. Girls he had hooked up with at clubs.
I wasn't a clubber, but I had never cared if he went with them. I wasn't wild or outgoing. I stayed at home and read while they partied through college and into the beginnings of our careers. I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, I didn't do drugs. I thought Mike was ok with that. Turns out he was more into wild girls, but liked that I had a job that was going nowhere but up and I was easy to cheat on. Our roommates let him cheat, they never told me. I asked why and she told me she was sure I would figure it out, but I just kept overlooking all of the signs. When I asked what signs, he was my first boyfriend,, what were the signs, she sat me down and had a long and frank talk with me.
I was reserved, shy, quiet, hard to get to know, no one understood my sense of humor. No one really liked me. I was easily overlooked, despite the fact that I was girl next door pretty in a Pollyanna way. I had no idea what that meant, but it killed me to hear. She told me to drop the baggy business outfits that did nothing for my figure, especially the cardigans that made me look like I was raiding my grannies closet, then she told me to fix my hair in something besides a sleek business bun that looked the same as the butch military bitches. (her words, not mine) She also told me to invest in some make-up and get a tan.
Those things also killed me. I didn't want a tan, sun was bad for your skin and while I wasn't a full redhead, my hair was auburn, I still burned like one. Make-up was useless, at least to me, I was who I was. I should be liked for my personality, not my looks or how I dressed. And my hair was long and in the way, I had to keep it pulled back. I had good excuses for everything she rattled off. Apparently, being comfortable in my own skin made me unlikable to others though.
So I made some hard choices. I broke up with Mike, spoke to the company I was working for and we decided I could do my work from anywhere and I decided to move back to the house that had been empty for two years. I was sure it would need work, a lot of heavy cleaning and new furniture, but I had taken two whole weeks off to get everything ready. I was out in the country, sort of, but I had everything I needed to work remotely coming. The moving truck was a couple hours behind me, so I had time to just look around.
I almost wanted to go to the top of the hill and look over at the small town. When I say I was sort of out in the country, I really was. I was just outside of a small, rural farm town. I could see the town, they could see my hill. Not my house, it was on the other side, but my hill.
The town boasted a caseys, a dollar general, a metalworks factory, three whole hole in the wall restaurants, an autoshop and one part time volunteer police officer. Growing up here and going to school here had been an adventure. Try to imagine having twelve kids in your class and still not being popular. I was tall, awkward, and I read a LOT. I studied in the summer, took notes, schooled myself on things the school didn't offer. I was a nerd. I didn't go to parties. You don't date in a town that small where you know everyone so well. That would be like dating your brother.
For me though, the where didn't matter, as long as I had a book to escape into. I didn't leave because I hated the small town.
I turned another small circle, then started towards the house. When I got close, getting the keys my dad had mailed me out, I noticed the front door was open behind the screen door. I paused and stared, then looked around again. I back pedalled to my car and got my maglite, the big heavy one I carried around in my car. I walked slowly back to the door, getting my phone out. I peeked in and could see into the dining room, through to the living room and the hall to the bedrooms. It was empty. No furniture, no nothing. Just the shag carpet from the 70's and the wood panel walls. I opened the door and slipped in quietly, moving so I could see into the kitchen. Nothing. The counters and the avocado colored appliances. I slipped through the whole house, all the bedrooms, the back sunroom, the bathrooms and finally the laundry room where the door to the basement was. I paused, trembling. The basement had been finished when I was thirteen, for my uncle to move into. I hated the basement. I opened the door slowly and looked down the dark stairs. Nothing but the long, narrow stairs and the door at the bottom to the left and the little storage space and water heater to the right. I swallowed hard. I did NOT want to go down there.
I closed the door and stood there, shaking harder than before. Why did I think I could come back here? I thought I was past this? The man was dead. The room held nothing for me to be afraid of. Nothing. It was an empty room and I could beat this. I wasn't going to run away from my own house because of a stupid memory. It was the largest room in the house, as big as the entire rest of the house, but it wasn't like I needed it. I was one person. I didn't even need it for storage. I would never have to go down there again after making sure it was empty. I could padlock it and padlock the top door and walk away.
I took a deep breath and opened the door again, then started down the stairs, full of resolve. Even so, I pause at the bottom door, still shaking and squeezing my eyes shut. It was empty like the rest of his house. His bed would be gone, his dresser, his clothes, his couch, everything. It would all be gone. Even the stupid ragbraid rug. I let out a shaky breath, shoved the door open and walked in.
Shock and fear made me freeze.
The basement was full, there were a full dozen people in it, all looking at me. They were young, most of them and all of them tattooed, pierced, weird hair, lots of leather... They were lounging in chairs, the couch that had been my grandmothers upstairs, there were beds and mattresses scattered around and random curtains hung all over. I was so confused... and angry.
"What the fuck? Who the hell are you people? What are you doing in my house?"
Half of them stood, looking afraid, a few more moved towards me warily. I backed up, hefting my maglite.
"Back off! What are you doing here?"
"Easy girl," the oldest among them said. He was tall and skinny, half his head shaved, the other half in long dreads that he had knotted up and doubled over. His ears were gauged large enough to poke a finger through. He had a tattoo up his neck, over the front of his ear on his jaw and behind his ear up to his shaved head. I couldn't see what it was, I only knew he was the kind of guy who would tattoo his face. He also had a snakebite piercing and a ring in his nose. He held up both hands and circled towards me. "Easy now. We haven't done any harm, none at all. This place has been empty a long time, no one using it, just sitting here. It's a waste. We haven't torn anything up, we don't even mess with the upstairs. We don't bother anyone and no one bothers us."
"You can't stay here! This is my house! My property! It was my Grams house! You can't just move in to a place because you want to! Get your shit and get out!"
"Take it easy girl," the man said soothingly, circling closer. I turned, keeping him in front of me.
That was a mistake. Someone grabbed my wrist with the maglite in one hand and wrapped an arm around my waist with the other, lifting me off the floor. I screamed and kicked, but the tall man grabbed my other wrist as someone else twisted the maglight and phone from my hands.
The tall man twisted my arm, turning me away from him and took my other arm from the boy who had been holding me. He was shorter, stocker, but much scarier with his full face skeleton tattoo and piercings with his shaved head. The tall man twisted both my arms together behind my back and pushed me against the wall. The wooden panel wall. I stared at it and shut down.
The flashback made me collapse and go into my own head to memories so vivid I was back there. Back in this room with my uncle. I struggled to pull back, put it in my container, lock it away.
The world came back in a dizzying nauseous wave. The tall man was yelling at me, pressing me against the wall.
"She's not there man, somethings wrong," a girl said, and I could see her then. She was round, but cute in a Betty Page pinup style. I blinked at her. "Can you hear me?" she asked softly.
"Yes," I whispered.
"What's your name?"
"No ones business! I need... please... I need out of this room."
"Easy girl, we just want to talk," the tall man said soothingly.
"I can talk upstairs," I answered, panting.
