The Elm House Page 2

  In the old house, under a full moon apparently, Jesse could be heard darting down the hall and all over the house. She could be heard giggling and shouting, “I’ll get you!” But when mother finally snapped her out of the sleep-chase. Jesse would look confused. She would have no recollection of what she was doing. Mary was concerned a bit, but father prayed hard for her every night. Poor father thought Jesse was possessed. John understood children slept walked, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around Jesse chasing after an imaginary friend. He was convinced it was the “Devil’s work”. In fact, Brad read long ago that sleep walking is a demonic possession symptom. But then again, the website seemed whacky to begin with. The website stated that alcohol, drugs and even sex would make a person vulnerable to possession. Not only that, but if a person doesn’t read the “Word of God” every waking day, they (too) are vulnerable. What a fear-mongering website that is. Christians, if they can’t burn a person at the stake, they’ll instill fear in a person’s heart. Better pray to God or else!

  Brad tossed his blanket aside and headed for the door. He peeked his head out his bedroom door, only to realize that no one stirred awake, and he escaped back into his room. He paused for a moment or so, listened so very carefully, and sighed. Brad was about to head back to bed until he heard the same footsteps again in the hallway. He flung opened his door, stepped into the hallway.

  “Jesse.”

  He glanced both ways to his right then left, down the hallway. Completely puzzled, he carefully creeped towards his sister’s room which was next to his room, and slightly opened her bedroom door.

  Her angelic hair glimmered from the moonlight that shined brightly through the window behind her bed. She snored loudly then turned to her side. She almost looked like a princess when she slept. Brad slowly closed her bedroom door and started back to his room.

  I’m probably very tired.

  He yawned, stretched out his arms before plopping down onto his mattress and covering himself. Brad had to get some good shut eye, or else he won’t be very bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning for school. Time to get that mind of yours, Brad, to sleep.

  The sunshine shined on Brad’s face. Brad’s eyelids fluttered, and his mind rebooted slowly and steadily awake. He tossed his blanket to the side of him and stood up out of bed, reached his arms out and yawned. He headed to the second-floor bathroom that was conjunction to the attic door. He eyed the attic door with suspicion, but the door didn’t flinch or creak open like last time. It remained shut which made Brad relieved.

  After his shower, he headed back to his bedroom to get dress for his first day of school. He quickly got dress, just your average faded jeans and t-shirt, and headed downstairs—through the hallway and straight down to the kitchen—to eat breakfast. His mother stood at the stove, finishing the rest of breakfast, and his father sat at the head of the breakfast table. Of course, we can’t forget the energetic yet adorable, Jessie who sat near father.

  “Hiya, sport!” John said to him, glancing up and flashing a quick smile then dove back into reading a newspaper article.

  “Hey.”

  Brad took a seat across his sister with unenthusiastic eyes as he watched her make a silly face at him.

  “Twerp.”

  “Geekwad.”

  “Fart breath.”

  Those two went back and forth, name calling each other until being interrupted by their father.

  “Okay, you two, be nice to each other,” John said, giving them both a stern look of disapproval.

  “That’s what siblings do, hon,” Mary said, planting a kiss on John’s cheek and held a pan with one hand and a spatula with the other hand. She smiled widely as she scrapped a small portion of scrambled eggs into each plate.

  “Bon appetite,” she said, smiling from ear to ear then returned back to the kitchen sink. A couple moments later, she returned at the opposite end facing John.

  “I wouldn’t really know,” John said. “I was the only sibling.”

  “We’re just messing around,” Brad told him.

  His father shook his head.

  “What a damn shame… horrible accident on I-95.”

  He shook his head then placed the newspaper away and dove into his food. After he took one bite of his breakfast, he moaned and glanced over at his wife.

  “There’s something different in these eggs, doll face.”

  He nodded his head in approval.

  “Just a little bit of garlic and dash of basil, that’s all.” She smiled back warmly. Her cheeks giving a nice glow of redness. Her head turned towards Brad.

  “Are you feeling a bit less nervous about school?” she asked him.

  Brad shrugged his shoulders. His corner of his mouth pulled upward a bit.

  “Kinda,” he said. Still inside, the butterflies swam around and around inside his stomach. He wasn’t less nervous. No, he was an absolute wreck inside. There was a slight sliver of hope inside Brad’s chest that everything would go smoothly. Although Old Willows Brooke High School is in a good neighborhood compared to Mount Everson High, he couldn’t completely convince himself, a 100-percent guarantee, that the first day would turn out silky smooth. Who knows, thought, right? Not like Brad had secretly obtained the ability to foresee the future, now, right? He’ll just have to dive into the deep waters and see for himself.

  “I start third grade, mommy and daddy!” Jesse chimed, swinging her legs up and down as she rocked the table.

  “Are you excited?” asked Mary, raising her eyebrows upward and smiling bright as day.

  Jesse quickly nodded her head with a cheesy old grin.

  “I sure, am!”

  She giggled and snorted like a pig then stopped abruptly. She coughed and coughed harder. She breathed in slowly and sighed.

  “You’re going to have to slow down while you eat,” Mary warned her with a stern finger pointed at her.

  Jesse nodded and smiled before another forkful of scrambled eggs was shoved in her mouth.

  “Okay, mommy!”

  Brad’s eyes crossed as he felt repulsed as he watched his sister talk with her mouth full.

  “Close your mouth when you talk,” he snarled at her.

  “It’s gross.”

  Jesse opened her mouth out and stuck out her tongue. Some pieces of chewed eggs fell back onto her plate. The saliva coated glistened on the chunks of eggs that clung onto her tongue. She whipped back her tongue into her mouth and gleefully grinned with delight as she watched Brad yak a bit.

  “Jesse, please, do close your mouth when speaking. It’s rude.” John sternly looked at Jesse.

  “Sorry,” Jesse said, looking down at her plate. She picked up the unchewed piece of egg and tossed it in her mouth. With a glance towards Brad, her eyes seemed to appear to laugh menacing at his displeased face.

  “Gross,” Brad said, tossing a piece of toast at her.

  His stomach wasn’t too eager to finish the rest of his breakfast after Jesse’s unpleasant display of the chewed food that clung on the surface of her tongue. He watched at his dismay while she giggled at him.

  “You two may need to be grounded,” John threatened them.

  She’s the one who started it, Brad thought, and she knows how sickening it is. But he apologized and managed to finish the rest of his breakfast. He looked over at his Timex wrist watch as it showed seven o’clock in the morning. He had to be at school soon, but he wasn’t too enthusiastic about it.

  “Alright, I’ll drive Brad to his school and then drop off Jesse at her school,” John told his wife.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” she said, kissing Brad and Jesse on their cheeks then told them to have a good day.

  Good day? I hope so, Brad thought. He stood up, placed his plate to the sink, grabbed his bookbag and headed outside to wait inside his father’s Ford Explorer. As he waited, he pondered what his day would foretell. Relax, everything’ll be alright. Gotta go with the flow.

  The hallways of Old Willows Brooke High School
were noisy (loud, chatty, lockers clanging shut, hooting and hollering and what not) like every school was. Students fumbling around at their lockers, slamming their lockers closed then placing a combination lock to secure their belongings. Brad reached his locker, opened it and placed his jacket on the hook within the locker then closed it shut before locking it with his combination lock from The Wright Brother’s hardware store.

  The Wright Brother’s hardware store located just on the left of Main Street in a shopping plaza. On the right side of the store was a comic book store, and on the left side of the store had a Foot Locker store. It was an average local hardware store ran by two brothers. The store had a resemblance to Ace Hardware but smaller in size. It didn’t seem to have any business chains or anything fancy like that of Ace Hardware. The store was just an average family owned business.

  Brad took out the printed paper that showed his class room schedule and attempted to figure out what class he needed to be in. Slowly strolling down the hallway, not paying too much attention, his shoulder bumped into someone.

  “Watch it!”

  A somewhat tall, built like a linebacker, shaved domed head with an intimidating glare in his eyes, shoved Brad into one of the lockers. Around this big lurk were his friends whom could be easily be bouncers at a bar. They all wore the same varsity football jackets. Now—it all made sense, Brad thought, they were part of the adrenaline junkies club. A club that heightens a person’s testosterone levels by bashing each other’s skulls together like cave men would do when attempting to impress their potential mates. It would make sense why cheerleaders would gravitate towards these types of cave dwellers—pure brute strength but no brains. Their brains were gone long ago after all the skull crushing performances to display their dominance on the football field.

  “Sorry,” Brad said, regaining his attention back onto his classroom schedule paper. He wasn’t trying to be confrontational and just wanted to move onward to his first class. The last thing that was on his mind was to get a detention on his first day. Remember, look away and the beast won’t devour you for his snack. Within a second, Brad’s paper was ripped out of his hands. He spun around to only see the adrenaline junkies laugh with delight in their eyes.

  “New kid on the block, eh?” The big brute said, casting a menacing grin across his face.

  “Yeah—”

  The brute nodded his head as to think about something. Which—Brad, knew was nearly impossibly. The brute stroked his stubby chin hairs with his thick fingers.

  “Since you’re new, I’ll let that slide.” He began to hand back Brad’s schedule paper but to only retract it back as Brad went to grab it.

  “You’re going to have to lick the bottom of my shoe. I’ve kind of stepped in my dog’s shit this morning, sorry.” The brute laughed heartily as he enjoyed tormenting Brad. But what he didn’t know was that Brad’s a black belt in Karate.

  Brad couldn’t help to notice the eyes of every student stare back at him. Some of their cellphones were out, recording, and hiding their laughter. In the back of his mind, he would had loved to kick this asshole’s ass, but he knew very well—self-defense to never use in an offensive measure. A person doesn’t go around picking fights because they know Karate, do they? What would Mister Miyagi say about that?

  Brad reached for his schedule paper but only to watch the paper yanked away from his grasp.

  “Okay, very funny, can I have my paper?” Brad asked politely. It had dawn to him, this similar caveman behavior, he already experienced this before. He only hoped it wouldn’t been so soon, but his gut knew he’ll encounter it again.

  High school is such a bitch, he thought.

  The brute shook his head, frowning, lifted up his leg to expose the outsole of his gym shoes. The crevices of the rubber were caked with mud and possible dog feces.

  “Lick.” He nodded with satisfaction and a pleasant grin.

  “Douchebag, leave the new kid alone,” a tall student with long hair to his shoulders, somewhat athletic but skinny had confronted the Brute.

  Every student roared, “Ohhh, snap!”

  The brute forcefully shoved Brad’s schedule paper back at him. He leaned forward with a snarl.

  “Don’t bump into me again,” he said, shooting thunderbolts out of his eyes.

  He doesn’t look too pleased in giving into the other kid’s demand, Brad thought.

  Brad took the schedule paper out of the Brute’s hand. He wanted to say it was an accident, but the look in the Brute’s eyes told him to zip it. So, he zipped it, and he didn’t even open his mouth.

  I’ve should’ve done something and not stand there and take it like a bitch, he thought, did I do the right thing? Shit, that was well spent on self-defense classes. His mind kicked him for not defending himself. Next time, maybe, next time—I’ll show that Orc. He punches first, and I’ll take him down to the ground.

  The big brute walked away with his friends as they laughed down the hallway. They started to disperse into their own classrooms.

  A hand reached out towards Brad for a handshake.

  “I’m Colin,” the tall kid said.

  It dawned to Brad that Colin’s face looked familiar from somewhere. He doesn’t know where, but he knew he seen his face before. Where though? Brad asked himself. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Right, now I know where.

  “From the hardware store?” he asked, reaching out and firmly shaking Colin’s hand.

  “Yup, I help my father from time to time.”

  Brad looked at his schedule paper. His puzzled face could be seen a mile away.

  “What class are you in?” Colin asked Brad.

  “First period, classroom 103, Ms. White…”

  “No worries, follow me, I’ll show you. What’s your name?”

  Brad shook his head; he never bothered telling Colin his name. He was so caught up on what class he needed to be at.

  “Brad,” he said.

  “Cool, it’s just up here. It’s the same class I’m going, too.”

  Brad followed Colin’s lead. First encounter with an Orc—not bad—could’ve been worse. So, perhaps it’ll be an okay day for now.

  Atta boy, Brad, keep the positive flow going.

  Brad sat at a desk near Colin, far back, in Ms. White’s classroom. Students were chatty-Cathy amongst themselves, laughed as they poked fun with each other (another typical classroom before the teacher strolls in). Then, there she was—strolling inside like a hot mess, fixing her hair and adjusting her neat blouse—looking like she had a rough weekend.

  Ms. White, a young and bonerific (she appeared too sexy to handle; men instantly would become sexually aroused at first glance) teacher, headed to her desk. Her blouse slightly unbuttoned, exposing her immense rack as she bent over slightly. The scent of her perfume smelled like a rose garden on a summer’s day. Her hair, silk and smooth as cream, long and pulled up into a pony tail. It was no wonder why the chubby kid on the left of Brad had those dreamy eyes when she walked in. Most of the students, seemed not to even phased. In fact, they just quieted down and faced the front of the room. The chubby kid, stared at her like one would stare at their first love, sighed. Out of nowhere, the chubby kid flinched, and growled at Colin. A piece of rolled up notebook paper had rolled off his desk that Colin had tossed at him.

  “Fuck you, Colin,” the fat kid whispered, giving Colin a middle finger.

  Colin smirked with a hand-jerking motion in the air, like the gesture you’ll tell a person to jerk off, then laughed. He leaned over to Brad.

  “That’s, Timmy, he’s a cool dude.”

  Brad smiled and head nodded at Timmy.

  “Class,” Ms. White said.

  She gazed around the room until everyone was quiet with their stern attention.

  “We have a new student.”

  She looked around the room then smiled brightly. Her finger beckoned Brad to stand before the class. “Brad Herrick, come up and tell us about yourself.”

  He sens
ed the students’ eyes stare at him as he rose from his desk. His hands felt clammy like most people would introducing themselves in front of 30 or so eye-gawking students. There he was, front of his new classmates, speechless. Talk dammit, don’t just stand there like an idiot, just talk!

  “I’m Brad. I recently moved here from Evergreen Park. My family and I, moved to 333 Elm Road.”

  Some students groaned and shook their heads. Some student’s eyebrows were raised high with a fat question mark of “why the hell would you ever want to live there?”

  What did I say wrong? Brad questioned himself as he observed the wide-eyed students. What’s so wrong?

  An average built male student chuckled, shook his head, leaned back into his chair.

  “Man, you’re fucked!” he said.

  Another slender yet attractive female student scoffed.

  “Why would you ever want to live in that house?” she asked, bewildered.

  “Alright, class, settle down. Stephen, don’t swear. Suzie, be a bit nicer,” Ms. White said. She returned her focus back on Brad, smiling warmly as to encourage him to continue to talk.

  “Umm—” Brad said, trying hard to think about what else to say but came up empty. He shrugged.

  “How do you like it so far, Brad?” asked Ms. White.

  “It’s fine,” he replied. “It’s a house.”

  Stephen, the average built student, chuckled.

  “Yeah, just a house—alright,” he said.

  What’s wrong with the house, Brad thought, what butt of the joke am I missing?

  Ms. White pointed her finger sharply at Stephen.

  “Stephen, drop it.” She shook her head.

  Stephen shrugged, then chuckled.

  “Everyone here knows what happens inside that house, Miss W. Even you know for God’s sake. Shit, the whole damn town and other towns near ours even knows!” he said.

  “It’s a house,” Ms. White replied, nodding her head for Brad to return to his seat.