In My Sister's Shadow (8 page)

What? Stuck! You’ve got to be kidding me. These old houses!
She jiggled it, turning it harder to no avail. She laughed lightly and banged on the door.

“Ohhh, Maaark! I’m locked in your nice but creepy bathroom!” She laughed louder, continuing to bang. “Come saaave me and hurry, your dinner is in here.” She giggled under her breath as she waited.

“Mark!” She banged on the door harder, realizing he probably hadn’t heard. “Your door is locked, man!” she screamed out.

The buzzing of the light continued until suddenly, it flashed back on, illuminating the bathroom again. She sighed. “Well, thank you, but I’ll be going now.”

As she turned to look at the light that was flickering once again, she caught a large, dark mass…a shadow floating above her in the reflection of the mirror. It moved jerkily and hovered as if it were trying to hold her but something was holding it back.

Bijou’s hand flew to her chest, her mouth opened but nothing escaped. The blood drained from her face as she looked behind her, and in the flickering light, the shadow grew and grew. The light was suddenly out again, leaving her alone, screaming at the top of her lungs as the iciness in the room gripped her around her wrists, as if it were human. She was being chilled to the bone. “MARK! OH GOD! MAAARK!” She screamed and clawed at the door.

Over her screams, a voice seemed to be vibrating the room, as if a train were going past. She heard footsteps quickly approaching the door and the bathroom door swing open. Mark stood there, stark naked and grabbed her out of the bathroom, the light still flickering as he swooped her up into his arms.

“Oh, my God!” Bijou wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he carried her into his bedroom and locked the door behind them. He placed her gently down onto the bed and rubbed her hair.

“OK, just try to breathe…what happened?” he asked as he gathered the sheets and wrapped her tightly in them. “You’re ice cold.” He hugged her tightly, trying to warm her with his body.

Bijou shook her head in disbelief, still unable to find the words to make sense of it all. Every time she tried to speak, nothing came out, or only an incoherent mumble. She laid her head on his chest, clutching to him. Then she shifted and looked up in his eyes.

“Mark…I was in your bathroom and something…” She stuttered, her teeth chattering and lips quivering. “Something was in there with me.”

Mark sighed and lowered his head. He continued to hold her, his face wrought with a mixture of guilt and anger as he caressed her arm.

“What did you see?”

“The light…the old, fluorescent light in your hall bath went out and then when I tried to leave…the door wouldn’t open. I swear.” She closed her eyes as he continued to rub her arm and she relaxed a bit. “Then, the light came on, but I had a bad feeling. I just wanted out.” She gripped his arm. “I tried to play it off, thinking it was only my mind, then I saw it…” She pointed a shaky finger up at the ceiling, fear washing through her at the memory. “It…was above me. It was angry…so angry! It felt like it was…going to kill me.”

There was a brief silence.

“Tell me exactly what you saw, Bijou,” Mark asked calmly as he kissed the top of her head.

“I’m…not sure. It was like a dark, growing shadow. It had a human form though…I felt the anger, Mark. It was filling the entire room and it wanted to hurt me.” Her voice shook. Mark hugged her tightly then laid her back against the headboard.

“I’m going into the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

“No! Please don’t go…and don’t leave me alone!” She reached out to him.

“Bijou, you’ll be safe.” He looked into her eyes and realized there was no convincing her. “OK, I need to check it out. Can you come back down the hall with me, but hold on to me? I’ll protect you, OK?”

Bijou hesitated and looked away. “I feel like some little kid talking about a monster under my bed. None of this makes sense. Do you believe me?”

There was a brief silence.

“Yes, I do believe you, and that is why I want to see if it is still there.”

Bijou took his hand, gripping it so hard his knuckles seemed to make a cracking sound. He unlocked and opened the bedroom door, taking slow, easy steps down the darkened hallway until they reached the bathroom. She pressed her naked, cold body against his back, gripping tightly, panting, her head on his back. She trembled. This time it wasn’t from the chill in the air, but sheer terror that caused her muscles to painfully clench and contract.

“It’s OK, baby,” he whispered as he slowly opened the bathroom door.

Immediately, a burst of cool air escaped, as if an air conditioner was on full blast inside. Mark’s hair blew back from his face as he rubbed the side of the wall and flicked the light on. The light made a buzzing noise, flickered then stayed steady as it streamed eerie light blue rays in all directions. He stepped further inside, yanked the shower curtain back. There was nothing there. The gathered opaque fabric gently fell backward as he released it. He looked up at the ceiling, noting it looked completely normal. He then turned towards the mirror and stared into it. Bijou’s hands wrapped around his waist, then clamped her eyes shut, her breathing labored and audible.

“OK, whatever was here is gone now.” He exhaled and rubbed his fingertips against her clutched hand. “Let’s go downstairs and get you something warm to drink. I have a robe down there in the laundry room, too.”

He turned and shut the light off and exited, keeping her close as they walked down the steps together, until they reached the kitchen. Bijou tried to control the shivering while he rushed to the laundry room. He returned with a large, dark brown terrycloth robe. Placing it gently over her shoulders, he watched as she slid her arms inside and wrapped it snugly around her chilled body. She sat down at the antique yellow table, watching him. A towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped to the counter and he put on some coffee. Mark sighed. The silence continued as they both wrestled with their own thoughts. He joined her at the table, sitting across from her, slightly cocking his head to the side. He ran his tongue over his upper teeth and nodded as he seemed to piece-meal his considerations.

“OK.” He clasped his hands. “Let me tell you first off that I was telling you the truth, when I said that I believed you. I do. Believe it or not though, in my line of business, I have not personally experienced a lot of paranormal, spiritual if you will…whatever you want to call it, situations like some of my friends assume that I do. So, this isn’t something I’ve seen all the time, not to this extent anyway.” He leaned over the table and took her hands into his, a warm smile budding across his face as he tried to put her at ease. “Now, about five weeks ago, right after I met you actually, I had my first experience here in this house with…I suppose for all intents and purposes, I’d call it a ghost.”

Bijou immediately looked up from the table at him. She remained silent as her eyes studied his.

“This house was built in 1902. I did a lot of repair to it. I’ve been living here for almost four years and not once have I ever felt threatened or like something was in here with me…until that night. I had never had issues with the heating or air, none of that. That night, Bijou, I was scared out of my mind and if I say so myself, I don’t scare easily. Something touched me. Something opened the window and was…” He slid his hands away from hers as he shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking with me. That is really what it comes down to. It also looked like a shadow, but I could see that it was, well, like a person.”

“Yes! It looked like a person!”

Mark reached over and took her hands into his again.

“Whatever it is, Bijou, it was
not
in this house before. I’ve seen it only once since that night, by the way. It was two days after the initial sighting so I thought it was gone, I honestly did. I would have
never
let you spend the night with me, had I known differently.”

“What happened the second time you saw it?”

Mark cleared his throat, stood and walked over to the coffee maker. He poured the black, aromatic beverage into two white mugs and brought them over to the table, setting one down in front of Bijou.

“Can I get you some cream and sugar?” he asked as he pointed over to the countertop.

“Do you have Splenda? Splenda would be good,” she said quietly as she pressed her cold hands on the hot mug.

“I do, I’ll grab you a couple packs.” He grabbed a long, silver spoon, opened an ivory canister with a rooster drawn on it and removed two yellow packets of the sweetener. He handed them all to her as he took his seat. He waited, watching as she tore them open, her hand slightly trembling. The white powder snowed into her mug as she began stirring it with the spoon.

“It happened a couple of days after the first incident. It was in the afternoon. I had just finished a funeral and was off for a while, because I had to come in for third shift to help prepare a body for cremation…another double shift.” He took a deep breath. “I came inside, like I always do, and removed my shoes at the door. It was raining that day, so hard I could barely see as I drove home.”

“I believe I recall what afternoon you are speaking of. I had to cancel a photo shoot because the model couldn’t make it.”

Mark nodded and continued. “I put my umbrella up on the hook by the door. I walked into the kitchen with my mail and sorted it, throwing the junk fliers away, and then I heard a knock at the door. I walked out of the kitchen to the front door, but the door was wide open. I remembered I had already closed and locked it. It was windy, but there was no way that could have happened. I looked around and called out, asking if anyone was there. I walked onto my porch and didn’t see a car, no one.” Mark shrugged. “I went back into the kitchen, and my umbrella was floating in the goddamn air…”

Bijou’s grip around his hand tightened. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“Yes, and that’s exactly what I said, ‘Oh, my God.’ Instead of feeling fear at that point, I was angry. In retrospect, I’m surprised about my reaction, but, I don’t know…I’ve always been open minded about these things, I believe this sort of thing can happen even though I’d never witnessed it myself, personally. Yet, the anger inside me was because I felt threatened. It wasn’t a presence you want, it was patronizing, toying with me.”

“Even though I’m
not
, my mother was very religious, Mark, and she always told me that those things,” Bijou looked up at the ceiling as she appeared to be trying to find the right words, “those spirits, are from the Devil. I don’t know if I even believe in the Devil,” she shrugged, “but I suppose anything is possible.”

 “Yeah, well, I’ve seen things, but nothing in my face, like what happened several weeks ago. I’d never seen anything where I could say without a shadow of a doubt, ‘yeah, that’s a ghost.’ My father had told me too many stories to not believe otherwise. He’d seen things, working in those funeral homes.”

“I’m at a loss for words right now, Mark. Anyway, sorry I interrupted you. Please tell me the rest of what happened.”

 “Yes, where was I?” He looked tired as he looked across at her. “Oh, yes, well, then the cabinets started to open and close, slamming hard then pushing open again as if they were alive and talking. I looked around and said, ‘Stop it!’” He sighed. “It was just my gut reaction, the first thing that came to mind – to reprimand
whatever
it was. To me, it felt like someone having a fit, a temper tantrum. It didn’t materialize this time, but I could feel the presence, the same presence as I did when it came to me late at night. It stopped, but before it did, and before the umbrella crashed to the floor and the cabinets stopped moving, I heard a faint woman’s voice, and it said, ‘Leave her alone.’ I heard it clear as day and I don’t know what that meant, but it was obviously a warning.”

Bijou snatched her hands away and looked down into her lap.

“What is it, Bijou?” Mark asked, his eyebrow raised and concern etched onto his wearisome face. He scratched his chin, rubbing his newly budding five-o’clock shadow with his fingertips.

“You…you said it told you to ‘leave her alone.’…. you said, you didn’t have these problems until after you…met me.’”

“Yes, that’s true.” He shrugged. “And this is the part when you say…” he pointed at her, waiting for it, as if knowing exactly what she’d utter.

“Well, I think you know what I’m thinking, Mark.” She bit her lip, leaned in closer and stared at him as she held her knees. She narrowed her eyes on him, slicking her bottom lip with her tongue before leaning back slowly in her chair and nervously pushing the coffee mug around on the table.

“I may…but I want to hear what your theory is, just in case I’m wrong.” He crossed his long hands over his chest and leaned back into the chair.

“I think…it’s Rhine.”

Mark gave a slight grin as he tapped his bare foot on the floor. He exhaled noisily, looked down at the floor then out the kitchen window.

“Well, I suppose that would make sense.” He cleared his throat and gave her a direct gaze. “I need some answers here, Bijou. Why do you think she’d do this?”

Bijou began to speak then hesitated. “It’s probably best that we just stop seeing each other. I’m sorry.”

* * *