House of Fallen Trees

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Blinking, Karen was certain she must have heard him incorrectly. Perhaps the alcohol was affecting her more than she’d assumed.

“Excuse me?”

Saul’s smile was sheepish as he shook a finger at her. “Now, see, I knew you were going to react this way.”

“I’m reacting this way because you’re full of shit.”

“No,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’m not. That’s my point. You and I go at it like fucking rabbits every night, but then the next day, I see you and you act like it never happened.”

“That’s because it didn’t happen,” she said, feeling angrier than she wanted to.

“To you it never happened,” he said. “It didn’t take me long to figure that out. No woman could be so casual and distant about it the morning after, if you know what I mean.”

She tried not to think about the egotism in that statement and said, “So, you’re saying the house made you think you were fucking me?”

Smiling again, he said, “Well, I thought it was a little more romantic than that but essentially, yes.”

She sat back in the lounger, unsure of how she should feel right now. Violated? Flattered? And then there was the very real possibility he was just making all this up, fucking with her for whatever twisted reason he may have. Maybe to get a confession out of her. Could he possibly think she was really behind all these odd events?

Of course, she thought. Just listen to the house right now. How could anyone be pulling this kind of hoax? Hidden speakers?

She supposed it was possible. Maybe he was the one perpetrating the hoax and accusing her to get the attention off himself?

Fuck! She was so confused. All around her, the house groaned like an old pirate ship sailing some vast black sea and here she was trying to figure out if she was being accused of something. Now that she was really thinking about it, she knew she had bigger things to worry about.

This was no hoax and if what Saul was saying was true, then she no longer had to worry about her sanity. Right?

Right?

The rasping of water against wood grew louder and both she and Saul looked around. When the sound subsided a moment later, he said, “I need me grog.” He walked off, heading towards the kitchen and was already out of sight before Karen even got the joke. Once she did, she jumped up and went after him, finding him pulling a beer out of the fridge. “Want one?” he asked without turning around.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It wasn’t that long ago that I was thinking the Jack Daniels wasn’t agreeing with me.”

He chuckled, closing the refrigerator door with his hip while twisting the cap off the brown bottle. “A little seasick, were ya? Maybe you puked over the edge—” He stopped speaking abruptly, all the color draining from his face. “Oh my God.”

Karen frowned. “What?”

Saul practically threw the beer onto the counter top and hurried over to the back door. With his hand on the knob, he turned to look at her. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”

“What?” she repeated. And then she knew. Her jaw dropped. “Don’t open the door!” she cried, rushing over to him.

“We have to know,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, we don’t. And even if…if it’s true, it’ll just be another hallucination.”

“I have to know.”

Karen grabbed his arm. “Please don’t, Saul. I don’t think I could stand it. Not after everything else that’s happened tonight.”

“What else?” he asked, facing her full-on.

She hesitated. “I’ll tell you if you don’t open that door. Not yet.” She could see him debating as his eyes studied hers.

Finally, his hand came off the doorknob and he said, “I guess I am pretty thirsty for that beer and I have a feeling that if I look out there, I probably won’t be in the mood to do any drinking.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe I’ll join you after all.”

They sat down at the table, each with a cold Miller Lite. Karen drank the first one fast, begging the powers that be to help dull her senses as fast as possible. She didn’t want to know what was outside, nor did she want to see Saul’s face when she told him about the old man upstairs and the mini-movie the laptop had showed her.

She told the story quickly, not looking up, pulling the soggy label off the beer with her thumbnail. By the time she was finished, the house seemed to have ceased its groaning and Saul evidently had forgotten his need to see what was beyond these walls.

He surprised her by saying, “We have to get out of here. Tomorrow. Hike back down to the truck and get the fuck out of here. Hell, I doubt I’ll ever come near this place again. Fallen Trees can kiss my ass goodbye forever.”

Karen killed the beer remaining in her bottle. “What about Rory?”

“We’ll have to get him to come with us.”

“Well, yeah, but where is he now?”

Saul shrugged. “Sleeping I guess.”

“He didn’t hear the house having its little identity crisis? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

“He takes Trazodone.” Saul sipped his beer. “Helps him sleep since…uh, since Sean vanished.”

Karen was quite familiar with Trazodone. She’d been prescribed it herself on more than one occasion. Continuing to play with the beer label, she said, “I have to be honest. I don’t know what the hell Sean saw in that guy.”

Saul offered her his crooked smile once more. “I’m pretty sure Rory didn’t know either. But I know they loved each other. I guess it was a case of opposites attract.”

“I guess the hell so. You want another beer?”

He turned in his seat, glanced at the back door almost longingly, then said, “Sure, why not.”

She got them each a new beer and sat down again. “There’s no way in hell I’m gonna be sleeping tonight.”

“I have a feeling it’ll be a while before I sleep at all, even after I’m out of here.”

They drank in silence for a few minutes and then Karen, probably with the help of the alcohol in her system, asked the question she’d been dying to ask ever since her arrival in Washington. “So…you and Rory. Are you guys… you know…”

“A couple?” he supplied for her. “No. He’s not my type.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You have a type?”

“Not really,” he laughed. “I mean, other than being brilliant, attractive, hilarious and saintly, no, I don’t have a type.”

Karen smiled at him, raising her beer. “Sounds like we have the same type. Here’s to the flawless.”

“That’s something worth drinking to.” They clanked their bottles together and each took a long swallow, almost as if they were competing to see who could drink the most, the fastest. It feels like we’re just a couple of frat boys pounding a few brews on the eve of the big game, she thought, more than a little amused. And then another thought occurred to her and she couldn’t hide her grin.

“What?” Saul asked, spotting it immediately. “What’s so funny?”

“I, uh…was just thinking about your type.”

“And?”

“And…you thought…you and I…” She burst out laughing and was amazed at how good it felt. No, not just good. It felt great. When had she last laughed? Certainly not that long ago. Yesterday maybe? The day before? Then why the hell did it feel like decades? Centuries?

Saul was turning purple, he was blushing so furiously. “Yeah, well, the pickings are slim around here,” he joked.

“You have a crush on me,” she giggled.

“I do not! It was just…you know…sex.”

“Sure it was.”

“It was! You even said so.”

“The phrase that comes to mind right about now is so apropos that I can’t even utter it.”

“What phrase?”

“In your dreams!” she shouted happily. “Isn’t it ironic? Don’t ya think?”

Shaking his head, Saul replied with the expected line, “Yeah, I really do think.”

“Sounds like you two are really hitting it off.”

They both looked up, startled to see Rory standing in the doorway.

“Hey, man,” Saul said. “Sorry. Did we wake you?”

“As a matter of fact, you did. And I can see you’re drinking all the beer and you didn’t even invite me.”

“You were sleeping, dude.”

“Actually, I wasn’t. I was listening to the house.”

“You heard it?” Karen sat up straighter.

“Hard to miss,” Rory said as he went to the refrigerator and got himself a beer. He came back to the table and sat next to Saul. He regarded his friend with what almost appeared to be disgust. “And all these nights, I thought it was me you were fucking.”

Saul nearly choked on his mouthful of beer, all the amusement that had been in his face gone in an instant. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “You were eavesdropping?”

“Is it really eavesdropping when it’s your own house?” Rory asked.

“So, you didn’t really hear the house?” Karen asked. “You were just talking about us?”

“I did hear you talking about hearing the house. Does that count?”

Every second, Karen thought. Every fucking second, I like him less and less. Before she even knew she was going to do it, she stood up so suddenly the chair she’d been in fell over as she shouted, “What the fuck did you do with my brother?”

In a flash, Saul was on his feet, ready to break up a brawl, though he needn’t have worried. Rory didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he chuckled. “You need to keep the little woman in line, Saul. She’s like a rabid pit bull.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Saul snapped at him.

“A pit bull bitch,” Rory said and sipped his beer.

“You need to shut up right now!” Saul jabbed a finger at Rory. “You’re not yourself, man.”

“I’m not myself? I think it’s you who’s not himself. Why are you defending her? She just fucking accused me of having something to do with Sean’s disappearance!” Rory was angry now and could no longer feign indifference. In a way, seeing him like that made Karen feel better. If he was outraged at the accusation, maybe it meant he really hadn’t had anything to do with Sean going missing.

“We need to get out of here,” Saul said. “The sooner the better.”

“Why?” Rory asked. “Because you got itchy for a while? Let me tell you something right now, Saul. There is this little thing known as the power of suggestion. It’s really an interesting concept and I’ve never actually seen it put into practice until now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Saul demanded.

“I’m talking about how everything was fine around here until she showed up. You know damn well how Sean used to always talk about his crazy sister, the reclusive writer. How she used to make him feel crazy too with all her senseless ramblings.”

“That’s a lie!” Karen shouted.

“No, it isn’t,” Rory told her. “He said you were a fucking loon and obviously he was right.” To Saul, he said, “And now it’s happening to you too, probably because of all that crap your family brainwashed you with when you were a kid. It made you susceptible to the ravings of a madwoman.”

Saul and Karen exchanged glances.

Rory continued, “And, in case you’re forgetting, Saul, I am paying you to be here. You work for me.” When no one replied, he added, “Now we all just have to calm the hell down. Can we agree to do that?”

Karen didn’t think she could stand to be in this man’s presence any longer. “I’m tired,” she said. “I guess I’ll go to bed. Saul, if you’re staying up, please wake me at first light.”

Saul nodded. “No problem. But are you sure? I mean…about being alone up there?”

She hadn’t really considered that, but now that she was reminded of it she realized she most definitely didn’t want to go back up to that room. “I guess I’ll try to sleep on the couch for a while.”

“Good,” he said. “I think we should all stay as close together as possible.”

Rory laughed. “I feel like I’m in a teen slasher flick.”

Karen considered telling him to fuck off, but couldn’t be bothered. “Whatever.”

The moment she left the kitchen, throughout the entire house, the lights went out.