Help for the Haunted

“And you brought your gun along—the one I saw the      day you showed up at the end of our street?”


“Yes. But it was just to scare them. I promise you      that was my only plan. I wanted the truth from your father and mother, instead      of the silent treatment I’d been getting and the lies before that. My intention      was to turn on the lights inside the church, but I couldn’t find the switch. All      the better, I decided in the end, since the darkness might give me an advantage.      I waited up front in one of the pews near the altar until I saw the headlights      of your car pull into the snowy parking lot outside.”

He stopped a moment, and although some part of me      wanted to prod him to keep going, I knew better. Besides, my mind flashed on the      three of us turning into the parking lot of that church, of my father getting      out and walking through the snow toward the red doors before disappearing      inside, of me asking my mother, “Do you ever feel afraid?”

“I waited there,” Lynch said at last, “bracing      myself until the door opened and I heard your father call into the darkness,      ‘Rose?’

“ ‘No,’ I told him. ‘It’s me.’

“ ‘Who?’ he asked in a confused voice. And then he      took a few steps closer into the darkness and said, ‘Albert? I don’t understand. What are you doing here?’

“ ‘I came to get answers about my daughter,’ I told      him. ‘Once and for all.’

“Your father turned to go then, but I raced after      him, tugging on his coat and pulling that pistol from my pocket, making sure he      saw the flash of silver in the dim lights of your car through the stained-glass      windows. ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ I told him.”

Lynch leaned back from the table. “There,” he said.      “Your turn.”

This time, I didn’t even look up at the clock. “I      finished Abigail’s night-time ritual, then headed up to my bedroom and fell      asleep. In the morning, I walked into the kitchen and heard my parents’ voices      in the basement, so I went down the stairs again. That’s when they told me she      was gone. Only the basement looked nothing like it had the night before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything was strewn about. The things from my      parents’ work—a doll we kept in a cage was on the floor. A hatchet too. So many      rings and trinkets and leftovers from their trips were scattered everywhere. It      looked like—” I stopped, feeling an ache in my chest as I remembered the      strained look on my father’s face when he knelt on the floor to pick it all up.      Then later as he wrote out that sign—DO NOT OPEN UNDER       ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!—and attached it to the front of the doll’s      cage.

“Like what?” Lynch prodded.

“Like someone had done battle with a demon down      there. At least that’s what my father suggested.”

“Uh-uh, Sylvie. You told me you weren’t going to      make the same claims as your father.”

“That’s not what I’m telling you,” I said, thinking      now of Heekin’s book and the tapes from the interviews and the things Howie told      me too. “I think my father wanted it to seem that way.”

“Why?” Lynch said.

“It was one more story to tell. One more way to      make people believe him.”

“And what do you believe, Sylvie?”

“For a long time,” I began, but stopped, thinking      of all those words I’d put down in the pages of that journal, all the      conversations I’d had over the last few days, the way certain details about my      parents began to sift from the mess of our lives so that I began to see them      differently than before. Again, I said, “For a long time, I wouldn’t let myself      think so many things. But now, well, I have come to believe that, for one,      Abigail did plan to leave that night. That she only told me about her idea to      slip out of the grocery store to put me off for a while. Who knows? Maybe she      worried I’d change my mind during the night. Anyway, I think that after I left      she opened that sliding glass door and stepped out into the night. And then, the      next morning, as we all stood in the basement looking around at the chaos, we      heard the knocking coming from upstairs.”

“Knocking?” Lynch said.

“Yes,” I told him. “It was you. You had come for      your daughter.”

“But what—”

“The church,” I said, cutting him off.

Just then, the guard announced, “Time’s up.” From      somewhere in the prison came a loud buzzing sound. I could hear the rumble of      footsteps outside the walls of that room where we sat.

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