1 The Bank of the River (9 page)

“Let me get
some water for him, I’ll be right back,” the man said, and disappeared into the
house.

“You OK, Dad?
Really?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, I’m
OK,” Roy replied. “Something’s up with this guy, though,” he said, motioning to
the stranger’s house.

“Yeah, I
don’t like him,” Steven said.

“Let’s just
see where this goes,” Roy said. The man emerged from the house with two glasses
of water in hand. He sat one down by Steven, and then handed the other glass
directly to Roy.

“Thank you,”
Roy said, and took a sip.

“No problem
at all,” the man said. “I just hope you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, thank
you for your help,” Steven offered. “I’m Steven and this is my father Roy.”

The man’s
focus remained on Roy. “Oh, no problem really, glad to help. I’m Michael.”

Roy took
another sip, and seemed to sit up a bit more. “You lived here long, Michael?”
Roy asked.

“About
twenty years. Great neighborhood.”

Awkward
silence. Steven felt he should say something. “We were just admiring the house
next door. They told us we could take a few pictures.”

“Ah, yes,
it’s a nice house, isn’t it?” Michael said.

“Yes,
impressive,” said Roy. “Victorian, right?

“Correct.”

Steven
noticed the color had returned to Roy’s face, and he looked better.

“Could use
some work, though,” Roy said. “Did the previous owners keep it in better
condition?” Steven smiled that Roy had gone right back to work, digging for
answers.

“Yes, the
previous owner kept it in perfect condition. Beautiful paint job. It would stop
people on the street. Cars would stop and look. But,” Michael sighed, “he
disappeared one day, and the place hasn’t been the same since. I understand the
renters are supposed to do the yard work, but they’re rather lazy I’m afraid. Would
you like some more water, Roy? Maybe something to eat, or some orange juice?
You are looking better.”

“No thank
you, I am feeling fine, thanks,” said Roy. “It’s a shame when a house goes
downhill like that. Can take all the properties around it down with it. You say
he just disappeared?”

Michael
seemed wistful. “Yes, no explanation, just disappeared.”

“Did you
know his name?” Roy pressed.

“No, why?” Michael
replied.

“Oh, it’s
not important. Thought maybe I’d research the house a little bit. It’s a hobby
of mine. You know, Steven, I’m feeling much better. I think we could go now.”

“Are you
sure?” Michael asked. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.”

“No, I’m
good,” Roy said, rising, and handing the empty glass back to Michael. Their
eyes met for a split second, and Michael said, “Well I hope you continue to
feel better. Can I help you to your car?”

“No need,”
Roy said. “I’m feeling perfectly fine, and I’ve got Steven here if I need him.”

Roy turned
to walk out of the yard. Steven turned to Michael and thanked him for his help.
He followed Roy out of the yard, watching Roy’s footing for any signs he might
still be weak and lose his balance. They walked to the car in silence, as dusk
turned to night and the streetlights popped on.

Once in the
car, Roy turned to Steven.

“The guy is
a liar.”

“Really?
What did he lie about?” Steven asked.

“Not knowing
the guy’s name. He knew him. He lied about not knowing what happened to him. He
knows exactly what happened. And I swear to god, there was something in the
water.”

“I didn’t
taste anything,” Steven said.

“I didn’t
either, but it was like drinking a restorative. I feel like a million bucks. He
put something in my water.”

“Now you’re
getting paranoid,” Steven said.

“I’m telling
you, he was lying,” Roy insisted. “He knows a lot more than he was saying.”

“How could
you tell?” Steven asked.

“I could
feel it,” Roy replied.

Steven
sighed. Normally this type of response he would completely discount, but with
the events he’d experienced with his father over the past few days, he’d
learned to not be so hasty with dismissals. “So what then? What do we do?”

“I think we
should come back and check the house,” Roy said, “when the kids are away.”

“What, break
in?” Steven asked.

“Yeah. Break
in,” Roy said. “Based on their ages and this neighborhood, I’d say they’re all
college students, there’s a good chance they’ll be gone during the day. We
stake it out tomorrow morning, and once they’ve all left, we sneak in.”

“And how are
we going to do that?” Steven asked.

“The
basement door. It’s chained, and I got a bolt cutter at home.”

Steven and
Roy sat in the car for over two hours, sipping coffee from a thermos, as they
watched each of the house residents leave. Roy ticked off a name each time
someone left. As the last one closed and locked the front door, Roy said,
“That’s it. That’s the last one.”

“Unless some
of them had guests over,” Steven said.

“We’ll be
quiet about it,” Roy said. “The basement doors weren’t visible from any of the
windows in the house. The back yard was completely overgrown. If we’re careful
no one will hear or see us.”

They walked
up the street, checking for passing cars and pedestrians. When they could see
no one, they slipped along the ivy wall, and Steven helped Roy over the fence.
They weren’t going to risk running into the neighbor.

Roy used the
bolt cutter on the chain, and quietly removed it from the door’s handles. Roy
lifted the right door up, and its metal hinges squeaked from lack of use.

“Slower!”
Steven hissed.

Even at its
slowest, the hinges still creaked. When it was open wide enough for him to slip
in, Roy passed the handle to Steven and went down the steps. Steven slipped in and
slowly closed the door behind him.

There were
cobwebs everywhere, and a second set of doors at the bottom of six steps.
Steven pointed his flashlight at the doors while Roy examined them.

“Locked?”
Steven asked.

Roy reached
out to the door’s handle and turned. “Nope,” he said. He pushed the door open.

The basement
was dark but completely open. It had two windows high up near its ceiling on
either side. It was unfinished, with no walls and no ceiling, just the exposed
floor joists from the level above. In the middle was a staircase leading up
into the house, with a closed door at the top. Steven could see daylight coming
from under the door. There were stacks of boxes in corners, and a washer and
dryer. By the washer was a relatively new electrical panel. In a few minutes,
Steven and Roy had mentally mapped out the room.

“What are we
looking for?” Steven whispered.

“Anything,”
Roy whispered back. “Anything unusual that might help us.”

They looked
deeper into the corners, under the stairs, and around the stacks of boxes.
Steven took pictures with his cell phone.

“These boxes
belong to the kids upstairs,” said Steven. “DVDs, books, all recent. I don’t
see any point in going through their stuff.”

“I don’t
either,” said Roy.

Steven
stumbled as his toe hit something on the cement floor. He shined his light at
the floor, noticing a different texture. Roy walked over to where Steven was
standing. “Look,” he told Roy, “that part over there is old, you can tell by
how smooth it is, probably poured a hundred years ago when the house was built.
But this part here is recent, it’s rougher.” He followed the new cement with
his light until he found an edge, and then attempted to determine the size of
it by following the edge as far as it would go. “It’s roughly five by five, I’d
say. Hold your flashlight on it, Dad, I want to get a picture.”

“Wonder
what’s under it?” Roy asked.

“Children’s
bodies?” Steven guessed, snapping photos. “Maybe Lukas himself?”

“I don’t
know,” Roy said, “I think it’s worth finding out.”

“We haven’t
got anything to dig into it with,” Steven said.

“I was
thinking a trance,” Roy said.

“Here? What
if all hell breaks loose? We’re not even sure the house is empty upstairs.”

“Listen,”
Roy said, “we’re here. Let’s try. I’m not summoning Ben or the shadow, I’m just
trying to find out what’s under this slab.”

Steven
considered it. “OK, but if anything goes wrong, I’m going to physically haul
you out those doors and we’re getting out of here.”

“Agreed,”
Roy said.

Roy stood
over the cement patch Steven had identified. He lowered his head, and took
several deep breaths. Steven watched as his father entered the trance. He was
much closer to him this time than he had been for the previous trances in the
hallway, and he was glad; if his father fell, he’d be much more able to catch
him. Something about it still bothered him, didn’t sit right with him. Here was
a man he had known his whole life, about to engage in something Steven
fundamentally felt was ridiculous. Even though he’d seen and experienced some completely
inexplicable things in the past few days, there was a part of him that still
believed they were all explainable, just not in the heat of the moment. When it
was all said and done, he’d be able to look back on it all and come up with a
rational explanation that didn’t rely on trances, shadows, and ghosts to make
sense – he just wasn’t able to come up with those answers while things were
moving so fast. Holding onto that belief was what made him feel sane; that if
he were to just jump into things the way Roy was doing now, he’d be betraying
something within himself. Maybe it was just stubbornness, but Steven knew it
was there, and a part of him was uncomfortable that his dad so completely believed
it that he would jump in the raging river like this without a moment’s concern
for the implausibility of it all.

After several
minutes, Roy raised his head.

“Yes?”
Steven asked. “Anything?”

“Nothing. I
don’t sense a thing.”

“Great,
where does that leave us? Digging through this cement?”

“First I
think we should talk to Michael,” Roy said.

“Michael?
The neighbor?” Steven asked. “Why him?”

“Because,”
Roy said, “he’s been watching us through that window.”

-

When they
emerged from the basement, Michael was nowhere to be seen. Roy carefully rearranged
the chain and lock to look as though it was still intact, and then they both
walked next door.

Steven
knocked on the door. “What are we going to say?” he asked.

“I’m not
sure,” Roy replied. “Let’s see what
he
says.”

Michael
opened the door and smiled at them both. “Steven. Roy. How nice to see you both
again. Please, come in.”

Roy and
Steven stepped through the door and into the living room. It was utilitarian.
No television, no media of any kind. Just a sofa, a couple of chairs and a
coffee table.

“Please, sit
down,” Michael motioned. “Can I get you something? Water, maybe, Roy?”

“Yes, thank
you, that would be nice,” Roy said. As Michael turned to leave the room and Roy
moved to a chair, Steven shot him a look. Roy gave him a reassuring wink.

Michael
returned, again setting a glass down for Steven, but handing a glass directly
to Roy. “Here you are. It’s good to see you looking better Roy.”

“Well, I
thank you for your concern,” Roy said. “We wanted to thank you for yesterday,
and we were hoping to get some more photographs of the house next door during
the day, with better light.”

“You seem
really interested in the house,” Michael said. “Are you thinking of buying it?”

He
doesn’t know that we saw him watching us,
Steven thought.
Or, he’s pretending that he
didn’t. Maybe he thinks we didn’t identify him.

“Maybe,” Roy
said. “My son and I have restored several houses over the years, and this one
really caught our eye,” Roy smiled, and took a sip. He immediately felt a jolt
of euphoria.

“Well, I
wonder if the owner would sell it,” Michael said. “He’s had it for a long time.”

“Do you know
how I might reach him?” Roy asked.

“No, I
don’t, I’m sorry,” Michael replied. “I see the kids coming and going, and for
the most part they stay to themselves. They’re renters, so there’s new ones
every few months. Lots of bedrooms in that house. But I can’t think of the last
time I saw the owner. Don’t know if I’d even recognize him.” Michael beamed at
them.

“Well, it’s
no matter at the moment,” Roy said. “I think we’re more admiring the
architecture right now than anything else.”

“We can
always ask the kids where they send their rent checks,” Steven offered.

Silence.
Steven could tell Michael was uncomfortable.

“I guess I
should come clean with both of you,” Michael offered. “I’m the landlord of the
house.”

“Oh,
really?” Roy said, feigning surprise. “Why didn’t you want to tell us that?”

“Well,
forgive me for that,” Michael replied, “but I guess I wanted to know your
intentions before letting on about it.”

“Oh I see,”
Roy muttered, chuckling. “You must be an excellent negotiator. That, or you’re
not interested in selling the house.”

“I can
assure you,” Michael said, “the house isn’t for sale.”

“Even if we
were to make you a substantial offer?” Steven volunteered, wanting to see how
far this would go.

“No, it’s
not for sale for any amount of money. It has a sentimental value that, well,
can’t be priced,” Michael smiled.

Roy was
right,
Steven
thought.
This guy is playing us.

“Well,”
interjected Roy, “in light of that, I suppose we should be going. It was good
of you to humor us at least.”

“Oh, the
pleasure was mine,” said Michael, turning to Roy. “Can I get you anything else
before you go? I just made an early lunch, why don’t you join me?”

“Thank you
for the offer,” Steven said, “but we have an appointment we must make.” They
all moved towards the door.

“If you’re
in the neighborhood again, please stop by and say hello. It was nice to see you
both. Stay healthy, Mr. Hall,” he said to Roy.

“Thank you,
and thanks for your hospitality.” Roy turned and he and Steven left the house,
returning to their car parked down the street. Once they were out of earshot,
Roy began to snicker. “What kind of landlord doesn’t call the cops when he sees
them break into his property?”

“The kind,”
Steven answered, “that doesn’t want cops around.”

“Do you
believe anything he said?” Roy asked.

“Not a
word,” Steven replied. “I don’t know if he’s the landlord or not. He sure seems
fixated on you, though. And I don’t believe we ever told him our last name.”

“I think
he’s protecting something,” Roy said.

“Protecting
what?” Steven asked. “The bones in the basement? We don’t even know if there
are
bones in the basement.”

“Maybe,”
said Roy. “Like I told you, he’s lying, hiding things.”

They got in
the car. Steven started it up, and drove them out of the neighborhood, back to
Roy’s place.

“When he
said the house had sentimental value to him, he’s referring to Lukas,” Roy
said.

“He told us
the previous owner disappeared,” Steven said.

“To the rest
of us, Lukas disappeared. But Michael knows exactly what happened to him; he
died, in that house.”

“OK, so he
died,” Steven said. “Then this guy buys the property, end of story. This might
be a dead end.”

“But Lukas
didn’t die. Not completely, as we know,” Roy said. “I think Michael knows that.
I think he knows Lukas lives, in some way, and Michael is keeping watch on that
house for a reason. I think he expects him back.”

“Fifteen
years is a long time to wait,” said Steven.

“Not if
you’re expecting eternity out of it,” Roy answered.