Look Up

I tightened the hood of my rain jacket around my face as my leather hiking boot stomped down into mud that was not as hardened as it looked. I started to slide and gripped my palm around a tree to keep from busting my ass. I could feel my socks getting wet inside my shoe as the mesh panels on the sides of my feet let in the rain.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?”

“If we don’t do something today the whole trip will be a waste,” Jay replied. “You don’t want to stay cooped up in our cabin all day, do you?”

A camping trip was Jay’s idea. He wanted us to sleep in a tent on the ground, pee in the woods, and make all our meals over a camp fire. I compromised and agreed to a cabin with running water and electricity. He calls it glamping, but it feels close enough to camping for me.

We had planned on hiking as many of the state park’s trails as we could this weekend, but it has been raining since we arrived. Actually it has been raining since before we even left the house, but Jay insisted we still make the trip. 

He says I work too much, that I’m married to my job and he’s just my side piece. His words, not mine. I answer work calls at the dinner table and type out emails to clients on my days off, but so what? I like my job and I’m good at it. I made partner before my thirtieth birthday and that was because of my dedication.

“If we had vacationed at a resort or a spa like normal people, I wouldn’t have mud on my ankles right now,” I quipped.

“What you would have is WiFi and cell service. You would spend the whole weekend with your head down working, which is exactly what you would be doing at home, and the whole trip would be a waste. Just like this one would have been if we had stayed at the cabin today.” Jay smirked as he said it. He knew that I knew he was right. He also knew that I would never admit it.

“How do we know if we’re even on the trail anymore?” I asked, changing the subject as I stepped over a moss covered branch. There were so many trees and limbs down from the recent storms, that we had diverged from the beaten path.

“We don’t.” Jay reached behind his back and pulled out the map a park ranger handed to us when we arrived this morning. As he unfolded it, the map began to tear. It was so soaked with water that it practically fell apart. He held up what was left of it and attempted to make sense of where we were and where we needed to be. 

I looked over his shoulder and saw the different color inks on the map bleeding into each other. The blues and greens merging and creating an odious brown color on the page. 

“Okay so I think we’re here” Jay pointed to a spot in the middle of the map. “And we need to get here” he said pointing to a spot a few inches to the left. I didn’t have any better ideas, so I nodded and followed him down the makeshift path.

We continued walking for what felt like hours, but my watch told me was forty minutes. The drizzle turned into a deluge. I stopped trying to keep my hood up, and my feet squished with every step I took. My hair was a lost cause, and I was fantasizing about taking my socks off later.

“We have to be getting close to something, right? I’m beginning to feel like we’re just walking in circles.” I had to shout to be heard over the pelting rain, as Jay was several yards ahead.

“Babe!” Jay called over his shoulder. “Wanna get out from the rain for a little bit?”

I dragged myself to where he stood and took in his view. 

We were standing on the edge of a clearing. In front of us stood a two story Victorian house. There was moss covering the side we could see and vegetation growing through the floorboards on the wrap around porch. Black, from paint or dirt, shutters hung askew. Grime covered the porch railings. The house looked abandoned, but looks could be deceiving.

“I am not going in there. This looks like the kind of house a witch or a serial killer would live in. Plus, there’s no way this house would be in the park. Who knows where we even are.” 

A deafening clap of thunder burst through the atmosphere, rattling my chest and jolting me with bravery.

“Ok, let’s go in.”

“Atta girl!”

The wooden door creaks as Jay turns the knob and pushes it open. “Anybody in here?” he calls. I follow him over the threshold into a dark foyer. I reach for the light switch to the left of the door frame, but either the bulb is out or there is no electricity. We simultaneously pull our flashlights out of our backpacks and illuminate the entryway of the house. 

We were standing on a tattered rug, faded and frayed at the edges from years of use. The floors creak with every step we take, and our muddy footprints follow us. There is a grand staircase directly across from the front door, a dark teal credenza on the wall to the right, and what appears to be a sitting room through the doorway to the left. 

Apart from a few cobwebs and dust bunnies, the house seems pretty clean considering the stale, musty smell signaling just how long it had been since someone opened a door or a window. 

“This place is eerie. Maybe we should head back out. It’s already getting pretty late in the afternoon. I would hate to be wandering around out there in the dark.” I adjusted the straps on my backpack and bent to scratch a mosquito bite on my ankle.

“We have our flashlights; we’ll be alright.” Jay lived his life as if nothing could possibly go wrong. It was a trait I loved about him when we were dating, but nowadays I just find it annoying. I’m always the one having to be a stick in the mud because if I’m not responsible, no one will be. 

I looked up at Jay and he knew I wasn’t happy with his answer the way only someone who has spent years with you can know what you’re thinking from just a look. “Let’s at least explore the house a little bit. We’ll give the storm a chance to pass and I can try to find towels or something we can attempt to dry off with.”

I nodded and Jay sat his terracotta backpack on the bottom step of the stair case, the straps dripping water to the floor below, and moved towards the back of the house. I put my backpack down beside his and turned, shining my flashlight at the walls around me. 

Above the credenza hangs a large portrait of a man and a woman. The woman’s emerald green dress has faded, but her eyes are bright. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were staring right at me. It’s foreboding, like she’s trying to give me a warning. I shiver and try to shake the thought away as I walk into the sitting room. 

There’s a a couch and two chairs arranged around a coffee table in the middle of the room. A fireplace on the far wall is surrounded by floor to ceiling bookshelves. I walk over, shining my light along the rows and rows of titles. There’s books by Jane Austen, Bram Stoker, and Edgar Allan Poe. Whoever’s library this was clearly had good taste.

I jump when I hear floorboards creaking over my head. “Jay?” He must have gone upstairs to look around.

I scan the room with my flashlight and notice an old rotary phone, like my grandma used to have, on a small table between the two chairs. I figure it’s a long shot, but I have to try. The phone number to the ranger station is on our map. Maybe I can call them and they can give us directions or send someone to pick us up.

I try the phone with no luck and place it back on the hook, shifting my focus to the door into the kitchen just as Jay walks through it.

“Sorry babe, I couldn’t find any towels or blankets or anything.”

“It’s alright. Can we go now?”

Jay shrugs his shoulders in defeat, “sure Liv, let’s just go.” He notices my hand still resting on the telephone and asks, “were you actually trying to call someone?”

“I knew it probably wouldn’t work, but I had to try. I thought maybe someone could come get us, drive us back to our cabin. Maybe we could even head home tonight. I have a lot to catch up on before work on Monday.” I paused, knowing if I kept going I’d just be picking a fight but doing it anyway. “Plus there’s a brunch with a client I’d like to go to tomorrow.”

Jay stared at me while he took a deep breath. He shook his head as he said “One weekend. I asked you for one weekend where it was just us spending time together, not worrying about work, or responsibilities, or anything but us. And you couldn’t give me that. There’s a whole life passing you by, but you’ll never look up and see it.”

“Jay, I —.”

“Let’s just go.” I followed Jay back into the foyer. 

I start to grab our backpacks from the bottom of the stairs, but they’re not there. “Did you take our backpacks upstairs?”

“I didn’t go upstairs.”

I heard footsteps. I know I heard footsteps, but if Jay wasn’t up there…

“How strange,” I hear Jay mutter to himself. I turn my flashlight to the direction he’s looking. “Who would hang this in their foyer?’

My breath catches in my throat as I take in what he’s looking at. The portrait of the couple I saw earlier is still hanging, but the couple is gone. It’s just a black velvet rectangle in the middle of an ornate golden frame. 

“There were people in that frame before, Jay. I know I saw them. We never should have come in here,” I shakily said as I started scanning the floor for our backpacks.

“Let’s find our stuff and go.” Jay started sweeping the beam of his flashlight over the floor with me, my search becoming increasingly frantic. “Also, Liv? Not to freak you out anymore, but where did all our footprints go? We were tracking a lot of mud on our shoes.”

I hadn’t noticed it, but he was right. The floors were dusty, but I didn’t see a single footprint. 

Just then we hear a sound coming from the living room. It sounds like the leg of a table or chair being dragged across the floor. I slowly creep towards the doorway, peering over Jay’s shoulder. The chair closest to the bookshelves has been angled towards a fire glowing inside the fireplace that was most definitely not lit before. 

“Let’s go,” Jay exclaims, a tremor in his voice. “Forget the backpacks, we gotta get out of here.”

We race towards the front door and I cry out as I realize the door knob is gone. We go into a frenzy and start pounding on the door, pushing our entire weights against it. It’s no use. The door doesn’t even budge.

I start looking around for something we could use to break the door. I look towards the living room, staring in a haunting wonder at the fire that inexplicably came to life without anyone lighting it. 

A face peers around the chair and looks right into my eyes. I let out a scream as the man begins to get up. I recognize him as the man from the portrait. He’s wearing a black suit and an emerald green tie. He starts slowly walking in my direction.

Jay rushes to my side and yanks me towards the staircase. My adrenaline is pumping as I run as fast as I can up toward the unknown horrors that I know in my gut await us upstairs.

“Is that…music?” I say, out of breath, as we reach the top of the stairs.

Soft piano music floats down the hall toward us. We turn to our right, looking in the direction of the melody. Jay shines his flashlight down the dark hallway, and the beam lands on two backpacks sitting in the middle of the floor.

I get a queasy feeling in my stomach and look down at my flashlight, thinking I could use it as a weapon if I really needed to. 

“Stay here. I’ll grab our backpacks, then we’ll go downstairs and break a window,” Jay whispered. He sounded brave, but I could tell by the way he wouldn’t look at me that he was as scared as I was.

I didn’t want to stand here by myself, but I would still be able to see Jay from here, so I agreed. I watched as Jay walked trepidatiously down the hall. As he reached down to pick up our bags, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. He started to turn back towards me when the music abruptly stopped. I saw him peer into a room to his right, and his entire body stiffened. 

Jay backed up until his spine was pressed against the wall. The figure of a woman in a long, dark green dress slowly walked out of the room. Her long blonde hair fell in her face as she held her head slightly down. She looked like she was sickly, just skin and bones. The gown she wore was frayed and torn. 

I stood frozen in shock as I watched her reach up with a bony arm and clasp her fingers around my husband’s neck. She held him over her head, lifted her face to look him in the eye, and pushed him forward. He vanished and she turned and walked back into her room, presuming her piano playing. 

“Jay” I screamed. I ran down the hall, passing portrait after portrait of nameless faces. I got to the place where our backpacks lay on the floor. I looked to the vacant spot where Jay just was just moments ago. A pit formed in my stomach as my brain processed what I was seeing.

A large silver frame held a portrait of my husband. It was undeniably him. How? How is this possible? I didn’t have time to ponder how this was real. I just knew I had to get out of there and I couldn’t leave him behind. I pulled the heavy frame off the wall, tucked it under my arm, and sprinted toward the staircase. 

I had tunnel vision, and didn’t notice the figure in my peripheral as I reached the base of the stairs. An object came out in front of me, and I tripped before I had a chance to change course. I dropped Jay, he slid across the foyer, getting caught on the rug where he lay flat on his back staring up at me, silently begging me to save him. I cautiously turned to see what, or who, had tripped me. No one was there.

I started toward the credenza, praying there was something in one of the drawers I could use to break a window. 

As I tore open the top drawer, a whoosh of cold air passed over me from my left. I turned just as the woman in the green dress stuck her hand out and pressed around my neck.

I tried to scream. I tried to pry her hand off of me. I tried to kick, but my feet went through her like she was air. 

I felt her grip tighten and suddenly I was flying backwards.

I landed on my back with a thud in the middle of the silver frame that held my husband’s motionless body.

I knew where I was. I tried to get out. I tried to look over to Jay. I tried to scream for help. I tried to communicate with my husband. I couldn’t do anything. It was like I was paralyzed. All I could do was look up.