Stuart opened his front door with a sigh. Warmth at last. His rosy cheeks were numb, and his hat was soaked through. ‘Bee-bee-beep,’ cried the house alarm. He stepped inside.
“Geez, it’s cold,” Jenny said behind him. She squeezed by him and ran inside the house, trailing clumps of snow behind her. The snowstorm that raged outside had whipped them right and left all the way home. Beside the coat rack, she shook herself free of ice and snow. A puddle formed around her boots.
“Mom said not to get snow inside,” Stuart said.
“What Mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, Stuart,” she replied, rolling her eyes. He looked down at his feet. He didn’t want to fight Jenny. She was older by four whole grades, and Mom always took her side anyway.
“Whatever,” he mumbled. He lugged his backpack into the dining room, which was so covered in clutter than it appeared much smaller than it was. Food, clothes, empty milk cartons, unread mail, and countless used glasses piled atop one another. Along the edges of the room, mounds of plastic bags and empty boxes covered the floor. Stuart barely registered it all. He was used to it.
He pushed a stuffed giraffe off his usual seat, grabbed an apple from the center of the table, and sat down. He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the night. He had a huge test the next day, and with Mom working late again, he’d likely have to make his own dinner. Jenny sometimes had money, but rarely. She usually spent it all right away.
She took a seat across the table from him and unloaded her schoolbag onto the table. A mess of crumpled papers, broken pencils, ripped worksheets, and empty chip bags tumbled out. “Don’t forget that Mom’s coming home late today,” she said and opened her Chromebook. She didn’t look at him as she spoke. Already the bright white light of her screen reflected off her face. He took another bite from his apple.
“What about Dad?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, reading something off her screen. She pursed her lips. “Page two thirty-three…,” she muttered and wrote a note down in one of her books.
“So… when are they supposed to come exactly?”
She glanced up with a shrug. “Probably after nine, as usual.” She then inserted her headphones into her Chromebook and turned up the music.
“Jenny?” he said, but she just bobbed her head in time to the music. Already he could hear the soft percussion beat of her favorite song. He lowered his eyes and stood up from his seat. Ever since Jenny started eighth grade, it was like she was a completely different person. She didn’t talk to him as much anymore, and some days, it seemed like she didn’t like him at all. He grabbed his backpack and went to the living room. It was better to be really alone than alone with someone else.
_____*_____
An hour and a half passed, and the sun’s rays went horizontal, casting long golden lines on the wall. The neighbor’s dog barked at passing cars. An ice cream truck sounded in the far distance. Separately, the children completed their work until it was nearly dark outside.
A quarter to nine, Stuart sat up from the couch. His book lied on the floor beside him. Drool smeared against his left cheek. He ran a hand down his face just as Jenny ran to his side.
“Stuart!” she cried, shaking his shoulders. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared. “Wake up!”
“I’m awake! I’m awake!” he mumbled.
“Take this,” she said, shoving an umbrella towards him. It was the one with the long, pointy tip that they used to pretend sword fight with. But there was no sign of playfulness in her expression as she thrust the handle into his hands.
“What’s going on?”
“I heard something upstairs!”
“How?” he said, looking at the headphones resting around her shoulders, but he grasped the umbrella anyway. Then he looked at her weapon of choice – his own baseball bat. “Hey! That’s mine!”
“Don’t argue with me! I’m older. I get the bat.”
“That’s not fair! Why do you get it just because—” Suddenly he froze. A loud bang echoed from the room above them. They looked at one another in panic. She slowly brought the bat up with both hands and then crept towards the steps.
He tried to pull her back, but she was already too far. Instead, he found himself grabbing the umbrella and racing after her. Once beside her, his hands shook as they looked up the staircase. He could barely breathe. She turned to him, pointed at herself, and then pointed upstairs. She started to ascend.
He shook his head and grabbed the back of her shirt, but she shook him off. By the time she made it halfway up the steps, he was too scared to follow her anymore.
At the top of the steps, she held the bat high and took one cautious step at a time towards their parents’ bedroom. Another bang resounded from behind the closed door, and she flinched. Then another. Then a scraping sound. She breathed out slowly and mustered the courage to continue.
Suddenly she felt a tug on her shirt. She jumped and swung around, almost hitting Stuart with the bat. He yelped and dropped his umbrella. It clattered to the floor.
“Christ, Stuart!” she hissed.
“Don’t go in!” he cried. “Just come back downstairs and we’ll call someone!”
She looked back their parents’ bedroom. The sounds had vanished. She put on her bravest face, stuck out her chest, and pushed him out of her way. “Don’t be such a wimp. It’s probably just a squirrel that got in or something.” Then she marched right to the door and put her hand on the knob.
“Don’t!” he whispered.
Then their parents’ voices came from the other side.
“Stuart!” their mom cried. “Jenny! Let us out!”
Jenny winced and let go of the knob. It was burning hot. The banging and scraping returned, even louder than it was before.
“Let us out!” their dad screamed. “We’re burning! The door is jammed!”
Stuart stared in horror at the black smoke seeping out through the crack between the bottom of the door and floorboards. The smell of fire filled the hallway. He stepped backwards onto his umbrella with a trembling lip while Jenny beat the door with her bat.
“Jenny!” their mom’s agonized voice wailed. “JENNY!” Bang! Bang! Bang! The entire house shuddered. “LET US OUT!” The door began to bend in the middle, where an enormous force threatened to break it. Jenny struck back, weeping.
“Mom!” she screamed.
Suddenly there came a ‘bee-bee-beep!’ from downstairs.
“Kids?” Dad’s voice called from the front door. Jenny whirled around, eyes wide. She looked at Stuart and then back at the door, which no longer shook. The banging was gone. The smoke was gone. Deafening silence.
“Where are you guys?” Mom said from downstairs.
Jenny and Stuart sprinted down the steps, into the dining room where their parents stood, strangely neat and dry. Other than their mom’s rosy cheeks, there was no sign that either she or their dad had been outside at all. Stuart thought nothing of it and ran to her, sobbing.
“My goodness, Stuart,” Mom said. “What’s going on?” With his eyes pink and puffy and his chest heaving, Stuart mutely pointed upstairs. Mom looked at Jenny. “Well?”
“There…uh…,” Jenny started to say with a quivering voice. “There’s something in your room.”
Dad frowned. “What do you mean? What happened?”
“We heard banging and… your voices. You said you were burning.”
Dad looked at Mom and then at the bat still in Jenny’s hand. “Give that to me,” he said and ran up the steps, two at a time. Jenny, Stuart, and mom crept up the steps behind him and watched as he knocked on the door. Jenny watched with bated breath. Stuart didn’t even bother to look. He hid his face in Mom’s back. “Anyone inside?” Dad called out. No response. He looked at Mom and the kids and then entered the room.
The door swung in, and he turned on the light. Nothing was amiss. The bed was made. The floor was unmarked. The windows were tightly closed. He approached the closet, pulled it open, and prepared to swing. But there was nothing but a messy array of clothing. He frowned, put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Oh, ha ha, guys.” He handed the bat back to Jenny and marched back downstairs.
“But…,” Jenny uttered as Mom shook her head. “There was something—”
“That’s enough,” Mom cut her off. “Fun’s over. Are you done with your homework?”
“But Mom, there was something there. I swear—”
“I said that’s enough. Honestly you two!” She turned and followed Dad back down the steps.
Jenny looked at Stuart, helplessly, but he just followed Mom and Dad. She picked up the bat where Dad left it and looked around the room once more. “I know what I saw,” she muttered. She crept towards the closet, moving the hangers aside. They clicked against one another. She looked under the bed. Nothing but a pair of forgotten socks. She looked up at the ceiling fan which rotated sluggishly – fwom, fwom, fwom… The single lightbulb flickered. She inspected the window, where snow accumulated on the glass – gloomy and blue.
“Jenny!” Mom bellowed from downstairs. “Get down here!”
With a frustrated growl, she turned and came face to face with two black figures. Both were charred to the bone. Both stared straight at her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound never came out.
_____*_____
Downstairs, Stuart clung to his mother’s side. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so scared. He wanted to puke and cry at the same time.
“Stuart, I’m trying to cook,” Mom said. “You’re in my way. Go back into the living room and finish your homework.”
“I’m already done.”
“Go anyway.”
With a pit in his stomach, he made his way back to the couch. The moment his butt hit the cushions, the door opened again. This time, Jenny entered, looking much calmer than before. She removed her coat, which was remarkably dry considering the snow that still fell outside. There wasn’t a single flake of snow in her hair.
Stuart gawked at her. “I thought you were upstairs.”
“I came down and went outside.”
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop asking annoying questions.” She went past him, into the kitchen, as he sat there questioning everything. How could she have left without him seeing? He would have heard the door open and close. He looked over his shoulder, where Jenny shared a secretive smile with Mom and Dad. Then Mom looked right at him.
“Stuart, darling, do you mind bringing my bag up to my room?