Indwell (Chasing Natalie's Ghosts) (20 page)

I knelt down and ran my fingers across it. I slowly slid down so that I was lying on my belly, my hands at my sides and I rested. I didn’t want to get up ever. After a few minutes like this I had the feeling I wasn’t alone anymore. I wasn’t scared, I just felt like someone was in here, watching me. I smiled, because I could sense that whoever was here was happy to see me lying on this beautiful rug. Enjoying it like they once had. After a while I could hear more footsteps upstairs and decided I had better make an appearance before they started to get angry. As I left the room I looked back and smiled.

“I’ll be back soon,” I said, to whom I wasn’t sure yet.

After school the next day I raced downstairs, making sure nobody was watching of course and entered my new room. I brought a blanket, my homework and a snack with me.

“Hello,” I whispered.

There was no reply as I sank down onto my rug and laid there staring at the ceiling. I was so still and unblinking I could have passed for dead. For some reason that thought made me smile. I would like to die in here on this rug. That’s when I felt the breeze again. I slowly rolled over and looked up. There was a man sitting on the red bench looking straight ahead as if he was listening to someone I couldn’t hear. I watched him, without saying a word. He was wearing a green army sweater and pants, his black boots were shiny. He had a black felt cap on with a gold symbol on the front of it. The black beak was covering his eyes. His lips were pursed and his skin was fairly pale except for a bit of color in his cheeks, like he was cold. He seemed young, maybe in his twenty’s. He was slim but sat straight and he gave the allusion of strength. His shoulders were wide and his neck held his head high. He was very pleasant to look at. His head slowly turned to look down at me. I smiled and waved, still lying on the rug looking up at him. He seemed surprised to see me. His blue eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. His perfect white teeth glistened in the light.

“Hi,” I said, wanting to make him feel welcome in my room. He stared at me, not moving, he was like a statue. I wondered how long he was going to stay like that. I sat up and reached into my backpack and pulled out my homework. I glanced at him, but he still hadn’t moved. I smiled and started my math questions. When I finished I put my books back in my bag. I looked at him again.

“Do you like my rug?” I asked him. He looked down at me again and grinned.

“Yes, I do like your rug,” he replied. His voice was thick and he had an accent I couldn’t place, I think it was Russian.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Do you live here?” he asked.

“I live in this house, yes. Did you live here?” I asked. He looked around and sighed.

“No, I never lived here,” he answered.

“Then why are you here?” I asked. I did have some experience with ghosts. He looked at the rug then back to me.

“I am strangely attached to that rug. If you keep the rug than you must keep me as well,” he said grinning. I didn’t think he was making a joke though, I think he was laughing inside about the absurdity of his afterlife.

“Why are you attached to this?” I asked touching the rug again.

“It is a long story,” he replied, crouching down on to the rug with me. He put both his hands on the rug and looked up at me.

“It is quite lovely isn’t it?”

“I absolutely love it,” I told him lying on the rug again. I rested my head on my hands and looked up at him.

“I have time if you want to tell me your story.” He smiled and sat down beside me on the rug.

“Yes, I guess I could tell you my story, you seem harmless enough. I have been alone for so long it is nice to talk with someone.” He smiled and gently touched my shoulder. He then lied on his back and put his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes then he began to tell me the story of his life and death.

“It was 1914. Russia went to war with Germany and Austria-Hungary. I had begun to grow tired and hopeless with the constant retreating of the army. So I took refuge with an Armenian family. They told me stories of the old ways. They also told me about the Turkish people who were admitting to eliminating the Armenians. They were scared, tired and hopeless as well. They felt the same as I did. So I tried to help them. I gathered arms with them.

I was able to draw together a number of other Russians that were eager to help instead of retreat. The community of Armenians was very grateful for the support of these young Russians. They gave the people hope. They were looked upon as heroes. They began to feel needed and powerful. Eventually they pushed back towards the boarder. As impossible as it looked they had never wavered.

Not only did we want to protect this group of Armenians we wanted to protect their parents land. To just watch it taken away was unbearable. We had to fight and if it meant we fell at least they knew they did not give up like so many others were doing all around them.

In the first little while we were successful, but in August, at the battle of Tannenberg, Russia lost 160,000 men to the Germans. So the Russians began retreating. The Tsar went to the front to rally his troops and boost morale. I had to escape. I left with a few others and traveled far. After a year of traveling I finally had to stop. I married one of the women I had escaped with. Her name was Alina. We tried to set up a home in our new country.” He stopped then and I could tell he was deep in thought. I waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts and continue.

“I died in 1916. I was shot by a hungry thief that had broken into our home. My rug was shipped with all my other belongings when my wife moved to America. I believe that when I was shot I landed on this rug. Alina was adamant that the rug be cleaned and returned to her. How I became attached to it I don’t really know. I just remember waking up on the rug in a new house, in a different country.”

“Why was it put down here in this neglected basement and forgotten about?” I asked, extremely interested in his story. I reached over to my bag and grabbed an apple.

“After my death Alina moved to America to live with friends of her family that had moved here years before. Unfortunately these people were going through difficult times. They made her sell her belongings. She just couldn’t part with the rug though. She hid it in the house she was living in. As she aged Alzheimer's set in and she forgot about it. Years later the rug was found and sold at a consignment store. The man that bought it put it down here while he finished building the top half of the house. He died before completion and no one knew the rug was here. Owner after owner, they never explored down here like you have,” he reached for my shoulder and squeezed it gently.

When he did this, I noticed he had been silently crying. I have never seen a ghost cry before. I reached over and wiped a tear from his cheek. It was wet. He smiled at me. I crawled closer to him and put an arm around his chest as I rested my head on his shoulder. He gently patted my back. That’s when I realized I had been down here for hours. I better make an appearance upstairs, I thought.

“I have to go,” I said grabbing my backpack.

“Will you come back?” he asked, looking scared now.

“Of course I will. This is my room, my secret escape. Plus I’ll miss you,” I said closing the door behind me.

Later that night before I went to bed I snuck back down to the basement. He was there sitting up on the rug tracing his finger along each floral vine that outlined the frame of the rug. He didn’t look up as I entered the room.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’ve been waiting for you and you didn’t come back,” he said still not looking up at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry I had to have dinner and shower. I have school tomorrow,” I told him. He still didn’t look up at me. I sat down beside him on the rug. I picked up his hand and snuggled into his chest. He was warm to me. I felt safe with him. I wasn’t usually an affectionate person but he was like a teddy bear to me. He was mine. No one else knew he was here. He was waiting for me. He liked me and actually wanted my company. It didn’t matter to me that he didn’t have any other options. I was happy down here with him.

He couldn’t be angry with me. He gave me a squeeze. He brushed my hair out of my face and asked how long I will be at school for.

“I’ll be back here at three, or should I say fifteen hundred hours sir,” I said, saluting him, laughing. He grinned as he gently tossed me down onto the rug and tickled my ribs. I was laughing in hysterics. Tears were coming out of my eyes. He looked shocked and stopped abruptly.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked, quickly pulling me up.

“No, I’m fine. You just made me laugh too much. I don’t know if you noticed but I am extremely ticklish,” I said smiling.

“Well I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said.

“Good Night Anton,” I said hugging him.

“Good Night Natalie,” he whispered.

Every day after school and on the weekends I would spend as much time as possible downstairs with Anton. He taught me to play chess and Mancala, a game he learned from a good friend from Egypt. He talked a lot about his friends and family. They sounded lovely. He said his mother always had hot rolls and cocoa ready for him after school or when he returned from the fields with his father. I could tell by the way he talked about them that he loved them dearly and missed them. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was still here. He should be allowed to rest in peace. He should be allowed to be with his family. I was starting to feel angry and I didn’t know who to be angry with. Who makes the decisions as to who can leave when their time here is done and who can’t? I wished I had the power to help him, and to have helped Elizabeth and all the others that have made themselves known to me.

I remembered the last day I saw Anton. I couldn’t repress my anger any more. My father has let me down over and over again. I was shaking as he continued to say no to me.

“It is my rug damn it and I want it!” I shouted. How can he say no to this, it’s not an outrageous request? He is on a power trip. He doesn’t ever want to give me what I really want. He grabbed me then, unaware of just how furious I was. I was shaking. He dragged me to the bathroom as I continued shouting at him.

“I hate you, you ignorant mother fucker!” I screamed. My mother was pulling on his arm.

“Leave her alone, she’s just upset,” she pleaded. He put my head over the sink holding a fistful of my hair at the back of my head tightly as I tried to pull against him. He grabbed the bar of soap and stuck it in my mouth. My eyes started to water as I still tried to scream at him. I tasted some of the soap as it started to trickle down my throat. I began to gag as he kept jamming it into my mouth. He finally dropped it and smacked the back of my head as I fell to the floor. I wasn’t crying out of fear or pain I was crying out of anger.

“Fuck you!” I screamed.

“You can’t hurt me anymore. Do you hear me? Take your best shot you asshole. Fuck you!” I shouted, full of rage. He grabbed his keys and left, probably headed to the bar or his dealer. I didn’t care where he went. I knew I got to him and that’s all I wanted. I didn’t care if he came back and punched my teeth out. I was never going to give him the pleasure of my fear again. It was over. My mother just stared at me. She must have thought I’d gone crazy. She reached her hand out to me, not taking her eyes off mine. I smiled at her when he left and brushed my teeth.

The next morning was moving day. I was still fuming as I ran downstairs. I thought maybe if I rolled it up really tight I could drag it upstairs. There must be some way I could bring it with me. Anton was waiting for me. I knew he wanted to kill my father last night, but he believed I had to stand on my own. He smiled at me and held his arms out for me. I quickly ran to him hugging his waist. I hated having to always say good bye to the people I loved. It wasn’t fair. I wish I could stop some day and just live. The constant interruptions were killing me. I squeezed him, not wanting to let go.

“There must be some way I can sneak this rug into the moving van,” I said, still not letting go. The tears started pouring, I couldn’t stop them. He tried to wipe them with his sleeve, but realized there were too many.

“I will be okay Natalie. My time here with this rug is over,” he whispered into my ear. I thought he was lying just to make me feel better.

“They have been calling me. My mother and my father are here,” he explained looking up. I quickly looked up too. They were standing near the back wall looking down at us. I hadn’t realized I had fallen when I ran to him. Anton was kneeling as he held me in his arms. His mother smiled at me as I stared at her. She was a very strong looking woman, almost masculine, but still beautiful. Her brown hair was long and wavy. Her eyes were dark and serious. Her cheeks were sculpted. You could see her bones through her pale thin skin. Her lips were red and full.

“Thank you Natalie,” she said with a thick accent the same as Anton’s. I glanced at his father. He was tall, slender but strong as well. His hair was blond and his skin was pale. He had a few faint lines around his eyes and mouth. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked at his son. I could tell he loved him. I wanted to go with them. I looked frantically at Anton and then his parents.

“You’re leaving me for forever aren’t you?” I asked, starting to cry again. He nodded, still not letting go of me.

“Will I ever see you again?” I asked, trembling now. He smiled.

“Someday I will see you again, but you have many things to do before I come back for you,” he explained.

“Like what? I’m just a stupid little girl, what the hell do I have to do?” I stammered. I was starting to feel the loneliness creep back into my life.

“You have to be strong and believe in yourself. I know it is hard right now to understand how any of this could be for a good reason, but it will. You are needed in this world. You have to stay but I will come for you Natalie, when you need me the most, I will come for you,” he told me as he kissed my forehead. I didn’t want to let him go. His mother knelt down beside us and took my hands. She held them in hers.