Night Things: A Novel of Supernatural Terror Page 3

  Throughout their tour they encountered still further examples of Sarah Balfram’s architectural eccentricities. In the kitchen Stephen gleefully pointed out a set of servants’ stairs that went nowhere (the real set was concealed in what looked like a utility closet). In a parlor near one of the sun porches two doors led onto hallways that were really dead ends; and strangest of all, the floor and walls of a sitting room near the library were actually built at slight angles, creating a subtle feeling of vertigo in anyone who traversed the room too quickly.

  “This room is like being high without dope,” Stephen said, prancing around and pretending to be so dizzy that he fell to the floor.

  As they continued, Lauren noticed two other things. First, in spite of the great number of rooms they passed through, it appeared that they had covered only a small part of even the first floor. Always there seemed to be more rooms beyond, corridors opening onto other corridors and stairways, real or illusory, extending deeper into the seemingly endless recesses of the house. Second, despite Lake House’s great age, everything was in a remarkable state of preservation. Here and there the carpets were slightly worn and the floors creaked a bit, but all in all everything was in surprisingly good condition. Nowhere did she see even so much as a loose piece of molding or a peeling patch of paint. Even the great diamond dust mirrors were free of the unsightly blemishes that usually afflicted old looking glass as if they, along with everything else in the house, had somehow been frozen in time.

  “For as old as this house is it certainly is in good shape,” she commented. “Who takes care of its upkeep?”

  “Sarah Balfram’s estate,” Stephen returned. “Apparently Sarah Balfram was so pleased with Lake House when it was finished that she decided she wanted to try to preserve it forever. So she transferred ownership of both the house and the land to a perpetual trust and arranged that there would always be enough funds to take care of it.”

  “You mean the house doesn’t really have any living owners?”

  “Nope. It was Sarah Balfram’s wish that the house never be sold, only rented.”

  “Why only renters?”

  “Because that way she could make sure that no one ever altered the house or tore it down. In essence, by assigning ownership of the house to a perpetual trust she was able to oversee its destiny forever.”

  Lauren once again surveyed the entrance hall and marveled at the love Sarah Balfram must have felt for her house to have gone to such lengths to preserve it. Seeing her admiration, Stephen stepped forward and embraced her. “Are you happy?”

  She smiled. “Deliriously.”

  They kissed and for a moment just rocked in each other’s arms. Then she noticed Garrett standing off to the side and staring down at the floor.

  Lauren gently loosened herself from Stephen’s embrace. “I think it’s time we showed Garrett his room. Is everything ready?”

  Stephen seemed not to detect the special emphasis in her voice. “Yes, of course it is.”

  Lauren looked at him meaningfully as she struggled to contain a smile. “I mean everything.”

  For several seconds he continued to look at her perplexedly until at last the meaning of her inquiry dawned upon him. “Oh, right. Yes. Everything’s ready.”

  She winked before retrieving her suitcase. “So which way to the bedrooms?”

  “Ours is the first one on the right up the stairs. Garrett’s is two doors down from that.”

  She walked over to the walnut staircase and noticed an electric light switch set into one of the scrolls of the walnut paneling. Given the age of the house she deduced that it must have been added at a later date. She clicked it on, but nothing happened.

  Stephen explained, “I’m afraid we won’t have electricity until tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, Marty’s had a portable generator set up to keep all of the food in the refrigerators fresh, but most of the power for the house comes from a battery of generators in one of the service buildings out back. The only problem is that the generators are so old someone pretty much has to watch them all the time, and the applicants for the job don’t show up until tomorrow. Until then I’m afraid we’re just going to have to rough it.”

  She looked up a little uneasily into the shadowy recesses of the house.

  He smiled impishly. “It’ll be more romantic spending our first night by candlelight.”

  Lauren poked him and started upstairs. Garrett had grabbed his bag and started to follow her when Stephen stopped him. “Hey, sport! Maybe later you can bring down your football and you and I can go outside and throw a few.”

  “I don’t own a football,” Garrett returned grumpily. “Well, why not?”

  “Because I don’t like football.”

  The words took Stephen by surprise. “You don’t like football? What all-American kid doesn’t like football?”

  “I don’t,” Garrett repeated, his ire increasing.

  Stephen backed off. “Well, that’s all right.” He shifted nervously. “What do you like?”

  “I like to read.”

  “He likes chess,” Lauren stepped in, offering assistance. “Hey, I love chess. Maybe we can play some chess later?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Garrett said halfheartedly and then raced past his mother up the stairs.

  When Garrett reached the top of the stairs he walked a few steps farther until he was out of sight and then stopped. A sinking feeling moved sluggishly through his stomach. He was well aware that his mother had been trying all afternoon to draw him out and cheer him up, and he knew that he had cruelly sidestepped her every attempt.

  It was not that he wanted to hurt his mother. It was true that he was unhappy about their move to the mountains for the summer, but this was not the major reason for his discontent. What troubled him now, indeed, what made him feel almost as if he were falling off a cliff, was something he had only recently figured out. Although he now recognized that some part of him had known it for months, it had only been in the last several days that he had realized with certainty that Stephen did not like him.

  He did not know how he knew this. Stephen had not said or done anything which overtly indicated this was true. And yet Garrett sensed it in the way Stephen looked at him, sensed it even in the way Stephen had handed him his suitcase when he had unpacked the trunk. And this strange intractable coldness he felt coming from Stephen frightened him.

  It frightened him because of the uneasiness he felt in Stephen’s presence in general. Stephen’s fame and wealth lent him an aura of mystery and power. Thus to Garrett he represented an unknown, and the possibility of his disfavor frightened Garrett all the more, for he did not know what such disapproval augured.

  But what frightened Garrett most of all was that his mother seemed so oblivious to it all. She was clearly so taken with Stephen and so willing to go along with whatever decisions he made that Garrett suddenly felt very alone. He knew his mother loved him, but her blindness to Stephen’s true feelings toward him made her love seem fragile and insignificant. For the first time in his life he felt truly threatened.

  Panting, Lauren reached the top of the stairs and looked at him. “Youth,” she said enviously.

  Garrett turned around, not wanting her to see the unhappiness in his face. Unaware of the interior struggle he was going through, Lauren continued down the hall. As he followed her, he started to observe the features of the second floor. The wallpaper was a rose color and gave everything a pinkish hue. Everywhere he looked were winding staircases and spindlework archways that bespoke still further rooms and corridors in the labyrinthine house.

  When they came to the first door on the right of the hall, Lauren stopped. “This must be my bedroom,” she said, turning the knob and walking in. The room beyond was awe-inspiring. Like everything in the house the master bedroom was built on a baronial scale. The walls were hung with a restful blue-gray damask silk, and on the floor was a French Aubusson carpet. At one end of the chamber a mammoth canop
ied bed of the same blue-gray damask was flanked on one side by a marble fireplace and on the other by a Louis XV dressing table, and on the far left of the room two elaborately carved amboyna-wood wardrobes dominated the wall. The door to one of the wardrobes was ajar, and Garrett noticed that his mother’s clothing had already been deposited neatly inside.

  Lauren set her suitcase down as she looked at the bedroom with amazement. “Goodness, it really makes you wonder what your bedroom’s going to be like, doesn’t it?”

  Her reference to one of the rooms in the house as being his reminded him again of his plight, and he looked down at the floor.

  She seemed mystified by his reaction. “Oh, come on, Garrett, I know you think this place is as neat as we do. Aren’t you just a little bit curious about your new bedroom?”

  The words made him feel all funny inside. He was interested. In fact, perhaps the single most distinguishing feature of his personality was his voracious curiosity about virtually everything he came into contact with, and Lake House was certainly no exception. Ever since they had first pulled up the drive he had burned to know more about the house. What unknown vastnesses and further architectural oddities did it conceal? And mingled with his curiosity and making it more delicious was a mote of fear. Lake House was so enormous and its architecture so evocative of old horror movies that he fancied just about anything might be hidden in its innumerable closets and passageways. But all these feelings were overshadowed by the thought that still loomed foremost in his mind—that it was Stephen’s house, part of Stephen’s world, and this dampened his enthusiasm.

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see that his mother was eyeing him with annoyance, but he refused to meet her gaze head-on.

  “Well, I’m curious,” she said as she strode into the hall. He followed, and when they came to the first door past the damask bedroom they peeked in and saw that it was another master bedroom. As his mother shut the door, Garrett wondered why Stephen had not given him this room as his bedroom, but before he could say anything they had moved on. When they came to the next room, Lauren stopped and went inside.

  He hesitated for a moment, reluctant to make the commitment of actually viewing his room, but after a sufficient display of dilatoriness he followed her in. As soon as he did so he saw why Stephen had given him this room instead of the second master bedroom. It was smaller and less grand than the first two rooms, but it was clearly much better suited to be the bedroom of a boy. The wallpaper was brown and gilt, and a large bay window filled most of the room’s southern exposure, providing the same majestic view of Lake Ketcimanitowa as the drawing room on the first floor. An immense oak bed dominated one side wall. His possessions were already in residence; most visible among these were his National Geographic Map of the Heavens framed neatly on one of the walls, his Commodore computer sitting on a desk across from the bed, his models of the Starship Enterprise, the space probe Mariner, and the space shuttle Discovery, and his sizable collection of books and paperbacks.

  But one sight startled him and filled him with both rapture and mystification: a telescope standing in the middle of the bay window. He looked at his mother with amazement, for it was not just any telescope but the Lieder 4000. He could not even begin to estimate how many times he had stood at the window of F.A.O Schwarz on Fifth Avenue and desperately tried to imagine what it would be like to own it.

  He ran forward with disbelief to examine all of the features that had made the telescope seem so desirable and so unattainable—the 1,200-millimeter lens, the precision electric motor which enabled it to continuously adjust for the rotation of the earth and keep it aimed at an object in the heavens. Suddenly he felt very contrite over the way he had been behaving. “Oh, Mom, I didn’t even think you knew that I wanted it.”

  “Oh, sure. You only kept steering me over to F.A.O. Schwarz every chance you got.”

  “Only twice,” he defended sheepishly. He looked back at the telescope, almost afraid to touch it.

  “So why don’t you try it out?” she prodded.

  He blinked at her, still unable to believe that the Lieder 4000 was his. Cautiously he removed the lens cap and inserted the eyepiece. He opened one of the bay windows and aimed the telescope at the mountains in the distance. It took him a few minutes to get the hang of focusing it, but when he finally succeeded, he discovered to his delight that its magnifying powers surpassed even his loftiest expectations. Not only could he see the trees on the distant mountains as clearly as if they were in his own backyard, but he could even see the red crest of a cardinal as it fluttered around in the branches of a silvery birch.

  “This is excellent!” he exclaimed. And then he remembered the hefty price tag the telescope had displayed as it sat in the window of F.A.O. Schwarz. “But where did you get the money to buy it?”

  “Honey, Stephen and I bought it for you.”

  His stomach tightened as he looked at the telescope less fondly. This time he wasn’t able to conceal his distress. “Garrett, what is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, his heart pounding as he tried vainly to keep from showing his feelings.

  She sighed. “Come on, you’ve been beetle-browed all afternoon. I know something’s bothering you. So instead of making me coax, why don’t you just tell me about it now?” He looked at her despairingly, fearful she would not believe what he had to say, but before he knew it the words came tumbling out.

  “I don’t think Stephen likes me.”

  She looked at him with astonishment. “What on earth makes you say that?”

  His mind raced. What could he say to her? That he did not like the way Stephen looked at him? “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I get,” he stammered. As soon as the words left his mouth his heart sank, for he knew that he had not communicated the full extent of what he felt.

  “What sort of feeling?”

  “A feeling like he’s being nice to me only because you’re there. But if you weren’t there...” His voice trailed off.

  She smiled. “Oh, Garrett, I’m sure all your feeling is just the newness of your relationship. The two of you haven’t even spent enough time together for him not to like you.”

  “But how do you know it’s not going to be like before?” he snapped.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said the same thing about some of your other boyfriends, and looked what happened.”

  His remark angered her. “If you mean Tim, we’ve already been through all that. I know it was a mistake to let him move in with us, and I’m sorry. But you can’t continue to hold that against me forever.”

  He looked down stubbornly, but before he could say anything else she put her arm around him and sat him down beside her on the bed. “Listen, Garrett, you and I have always had a sort of understanding. We’ve always respected each other’s wishes. I know it hasn’t been easy on you with me being away so much on writing assignments, but you’ve been really good about it. And strange though some of your interests are, I’ve always supported them and tried to see that you’ve had everything you’ve needed for your hobbies. Now I know it’s not going to be easy, but you said you were going to give Stephen a chance. So for my sake, won’t you put this idea out of your head and at least try to meet him halfway?”

  Her request merely caused the sinking in his stomach to intensify, but as he looked into her eyes and saw how much it meant to her, he realized he had no choice. He knew that if he continued on his tack of moody obstinacy he would only alienate her further.

  “Okay,” he said quietly, hoping she did not detect the pessimism in his voice.

  She hugged him. “I knew I could count on you.”

  Almost on cue, there came the sound of Stephen clunking his suitcase down in the bedroom down the hall, and Lauren stood up. “Well, I’m going to go do some unpacking. Do you want to come with me or do you want to stay and tinker with your new telescope?”

  “I’ll stay,” he said.

  “Okay.” She kissed h
im on the forehead and then went out.

  Left alone, Garrett looked back at the telescope. Knowing now it had been purchased with Stephen’s money, he considered never touching it again. But then he looked at all of its special features and recalled how remarkable its powers of magnification were. He approached it slowly and allowed his finger to trace down its sleek black exterior. What could he do about his failure to convince his mother about Stephen? Since simply telling her had proved so unsuccessful, he had to find another way to accomplish the task. And although he did not know what that was, something told him it was going to require every last ounce of resourcefulness he possessed.

  When Lauren reached the master bedroom, she found Stephen unpacking his suitcase.

  “That was Marty,” he said when she entered. “He called to tell me that the new single jumped ten places on the charts last week.”

  “Oh, you knew it would,” she said happily as she sat down on the bed and bounced a couple of times to test its firmness. To her delight, despite the obvious age of the bed its mattress seemed new.

  “Did you get Garrett settled in his room?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he like the telescope?”

  “He loved it,” she murmured distantly as she thought again of Garrett’s assertion that Stephen did not like him.

  “But...?” he countered, sensing her pensiveness.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something Garrett said.”

  “What was that?”

  She pursed her brow, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Well, you know how difficult all this has been for him. Somehow he’s gotten into his head this crazy idea that you don’t like him.”

  As she had expected, Stephen seemed surprised. “He thinks that?”

  “Yes, but you know how eleven-year-olds are. He was probably just seeing how I would react. Gauging my feelings. I’m sure it had nothing to do with you.”