Come Downstairs, Pumpkin

Edie shivers in her fitful sleep as fog swirls around the basement steps. The mist creeps closer, pulling at her, trying to coax her downstairs.

Edie wakes up in a cold sweat before the swirling fog reaches the top of the steps.

She always does.

                                               ***

Hearing Edie’s muffled cries, Lenore Poe cracks open the door to her daughter’s room, flicking on the light.

Lenore cuddles Edie. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

“…It’s so real… The fog wants me, Mom…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to a therapist about your dream?”

“And give the kids at school another reason to make fun of me?” Edie replies sadly, looking into her mother’s caring eyes.

Fresh-faced, with almond-shaped blue eyes and a conservative flip hairdo, Lenore used to worry that the stigma of her being a single parent was enough of a burden for her daughter to bear. Now, she’s more concerned that Edie can’t shake the reoccurring nightmare that has plagued her since her beloved Nana died three years ago.

“Did it get any further this time?” Lenore asks.

“No. I got too scared and woke up.”

“Maybe if you let it play out…”

Edie clutches her mother. “No! If I let the fog take me, I’ll die!”

                                                           ***

The next day in art class, Casper Crowley sneaks a look at Edie’s drawing, critiquing it with an awed, “Holy smokes.”

Edie’s drawing depicts a girl facing a set of stairs, looking down into a thick cloud. Angry, disembodied faces stare up at her.

Shy and bookish with a short brown bob, buck teeth, and freckles, eleven-year-old Edie has the social skills of a girl half her age. Her rail-thin figure and awkwardness inspired the cool kids to nickname her “Bony Moronie.” Undersized, sad-eyed Casper is her only friend and a frequent target of bulky bully Lionel Lawless.

“Is that what you see in your dream? No wonder you can’t sleep.” Casper comments.

“No. All I see is the fog. But I know there’s something evil inside that fog. I think this is what it looks like.”

“What do those people want?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

A gruff voice says, “Well, I do.”

Lionel Lawless looms over both of them, snorting, his meaty hands on his hips.

He points a sausage-like finger at one of the faces in the picture.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

“If it smells like a pig, looks like a pig, and squeals like a pig, then yeah, it’s you,” Edie replies.

“That’s funny, Bony Moronie. I don’t recall givin’ you permission to sanitize me.”

“I think the word you're looking for is satirize,” Casper says.

Lionel threatens Casper with his sledgehammer-sized fist.

“Maybe the word I’m really lookin’ for is pulverize, which is what I’m gonna do to you, runt, if you crack wise with me again. As for you, Bony Moronie, either tear that picture up, or I’ll tear you up.”

“I’ve been working on this for weeks. I’ll make a deal with you, Lawless. I’ll change your face.”

Edie’s art project wins first prize and is hung in the school’s lobby, where hundreds of kids, teachers, and parents see it daily. Many find themselves enthralled and amused by the fat-faced, maroon-colored horned devil in the corner of the picture wearing a T-shirt with the name Lionel scrawled across it.

                                                           ***

The thickening fog swirls around the steps.

“Please, don’t come any closer,” Edie begs.

The fog’s opaque pervasiveness is momentarily foiled by Edie’s will holding it back.

A pair of hands reach out of the fog, beckoning her.

A soothing voice whispers, “Come downstairs, Pumpkin. I need you.”

Only one person ever called her Pumpkin.

“Nana?”

“…Come down to the basement…”

Whisps of fog begin to weave up the steps, wiggling like beckoning fingers.

“No, it’s scary down there!”

“You can’t get over your fear unless you face it.” 

“No! I’m not ready, Nana. I could die.”

“…I’ll protect you. I need you…”

“NO!”

The fog dissolves, and Edie wakes up screaming.

                                               ***

Lenore checks on Edie, who is finally asleep. She’s thankful for Edie despite having her at fifteen. Raising Edie pulled her away from a future of booze and bad boys.

Yawning as she enters her bedroom, Lenore pauses to look at a picture of her sister, Charlotte, her father, Allen, and herself. The three of them smile happily, unaware of the misery that lies ahead.

Her mother, Greta, Edie’s beloved Nana, is conspicuously absent from the photo.

Lenore remembers the video she shot that day of Charlotte and her father and their flippant remarks to the camera. As she drifts off to sleep, she wishes she could tell Edie the truth about what their final days were like.

In the next room, Edie begins to dream about her Aunt Charlotte…

                                               ***

Charlotte sees her mother standing over a dead animal in the garden.

“What is it?”

“A possum. It ate too much poison,” Greta responds. Lifting it out of the cabbage patch with a shovel, she drops the carcass into a shopping bag, casually closing it.

“You poisoned it?”

“Sure. Momma Possum and her furry family ate my vegetables. That means war.”

Charlotte feels her stomach tense up. “Yuk. We eat those vegetables.”

“The poison isn’t harmful to humans,” Greta says. Picking up the bag, she carries it in the crook of her arm like a football.

Charlotte admires her mother’s ability to detach herself from such a gross duty. Curious and rambunctious, long-legged, fifteen-year-old Charlotte takes after her conscientious father, Allen, a family lawyer who tries to see the good in everyone. But Charlotte worries that her mother’s newfound pagan beliefs and obsession with herbal medicines are driving a wedge between her and the rest of the family.

                                               ***

The hissing of an animal in distress stirs Charlotte from her slumber. The rest of the family are sound sleepers, so Charlotte goes outside to investigate.

Burning candles circle the garden, and incense wafts in the air. As Charlotte draws closer, she sees her mother pointing a knife toward the night sky.

The dead possum is laid out on the ground before her. A pair of baby possums rattle around in a nearby cage, hissing at Greta.

Greta chants, “Guardians of the Spirit realm, hear and grant my plea. Take these sacrifices in my name. When this vessel is worn out and cast aside, grant me the power to return to this earth in a new body to continue your work.”

Sighting Charlotte, Greta laughs at her daughter’s astonishment.

The flickering candlelight makes Greta’s black eyes look like burning coals. “You’re just as nosey as your mattress-back sister. You’ll say nothing of what you’ve seen or heard. Telling anyone about my sacred covenant with my Lord could bring about his retribution, understand?”

“No, but I’ll keep quiet… Are those the possum’s babies? What are you going to do with them?”

“I’m going to send them on to my Lord like their mother before them. Always remember, Charlotte, a child needs their mother.”

Charlotte retreats to the house. She wakes up Lenore, telling her what she saw.

                                               ***

Charlotte starts coughing up blood the following morning. Her mother treats her with her home remedies, telling Charlotte her Lord has plans for her.

Greta moves Charlotte closer to her bedroom, planting her on the living room couch.

                                               ***

Coming home from work, Allen rushes to Charlotte’s side, feeling her forehead.

“You’re sweating, and you’ve got a fever. You should go to the hospital.”

“That’s what I said, Daddy,” Lenore says, entering the room. “But Broom Hilda thinks ginseng tea and incense will cure her.”

“Don’t disrespect your mother. She knows how the human body works,” Allen says.

“We all sat by quietly; we even laughed when she was baking rhubarb lasagna, reading Aleister Crowley, and plotting to be immortal, but now she’s playing with your daughter’s life.”

“If she believes she can treat Charlotte at home, then she must know what she’s doing,” Allen replies, his concern registering on his kind features.

“…I’m just having a little problem breathing, that’s all…,” Charlotte says weakly.

“Not being able to breathe is a big problem!” Lenore shouts.

“…Don’t be such a drama queen…,” Charlotte whispers. “I’m in good hands.”

Greta enters the room holding a large steaming cup of liquid. “Shoo, you two.”

Lenore’s last memory of Charlotte is hearing her sister say, “Jeez, Mom. This stuff tastes awful.”

                                               ***

Five months after burying Charlotte, Lenore watches her father struggling to breathe as he lies on the same couch.

“You should go to the hospital, Dad.”

“I went last week. It’s just pneumonia. Besides, I’m in good hands.”

“That’s what Charlotte said the day she died.”

Allen reaches out for Lenore’s hand, stroking it. “That’s just the bitterness between you and your mom talking. I heard you two arguing about you and Edie moving out. I need to tell you something… I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t think you were ready to hear it…You know why your mother’s so hard on you? It’s because she is you. Your mother and I were teenagers when we married. She was three months pregnant with you when we walked down the aisle. So, when you got pregnant at fifteen…”

“She saw history repeating itself. Only I’m not her, Dad. I never will be.”

                                               ***

Three-year-old Edie hugs Greta. “Bye, Nana.”

“Wait for me in the car, Edie,” Lenore says.

Greta’s saccharine smile fades, and she levels a toxic stare at Lenore.

“So, you’re going to leave me when I need you the most?”

“You only needed me to make yourself feel better.”

Greta slaps Lenore. “Must you always be so disrespectful? I gave you and your rug rat a place to live…”

“Dad did that. He worked while you were killing animals and chasing your crazy dream of living forever.”

Greta slaps her harder. When the sting fades, Lenore says, “With Dad and Charlotte gone, how long would it have been before I wound up dead on the couch?”

Lenore and Edie move three hours from Tuscaloosa, where they get regular calls from her former neighbors complaining that Greta has stolen their pets.

Five years pass before Lenore and Edie see Greta again. No amount of homemade remedies or pleas to her Lord can stave off the cancer that kills her.

Edie’s nightmares begin the night her Nana dies.

                                               ***

Edie and Casper are sitting together in the playground, making a sandcastle, away from the prying eyes and cutting comments of her classmates.

Lionel’s thick frame blocks out the sun.

“Well, look at the two dirtbags playin’ in the dirt.”

“Stop being a tool, Lionel. Leave us alone,” Edie says.

“You shut up, Bony Moronie. I’m playin’ cowboys and Indians…”

“You mean Native Americans,” Casper corrects.

“Don’t tell me what I mean, you little puke… KNIFE!”

Lionel opens his hand. A rusty folding knife appears in his hand.

“I’m Cochise, and you’re two wimpy pale faces. And I’m gonna scalp you!”

Casper yips as Lionel grabs a hank of his hair, cutting it off. Throwing the hair aside, Lionel lets out a war hoop, stabbing Casper in the back.

Blood spreads across Casper’s white polo shirt. He looks helplessly at Edie.

Casper’s body deflates like a punctured balloon until all that’s left of him is a flat image of what he once was.

“Guess I let the air out of nerd boy’s tires,” Lionel taunts.

Lionel’s cackling laughter pounds in Edie’s head as she passes out.

                                               ***

Edie wakes up, prattling hysterically.

“And then he made a fizzing sound, and he deflated!”

“It was a dream, Edie,” Lenore says. “Your friend Casper is fine.”

“No! Lionel killed him! We need to call the police!”

“Then I’m sure the police are handling the situation. Don’t worry. Bullies like Lionel get what’s coming to them. You’ve had a hard day, Edie. You should get some sleep. And when you start to dream, let go and let it happen. You’re strong enough to get through it.”

Edie shakes. “No! The fog will get me!”

                                               ***

Despite the noise in homeroom, Edie can barely keep her eyes open.

She turns to Prudence Regan, one of the popular girls, asking, “Have you heard anything about Casper?”

Prudence’s sculpted features gather together in a condemning frown. “Who? You ought to worry about yourself, Bony Moronie. Kids are talking about you sitting alone in the playground, babbling to yourself. And you look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

The school intercom clicks on. Principal Jordan Jessup blows into the microphone.

“Testing… With great sadness, we report the loss of one of our Zeppo Marx Junior High School family…”

Edie gasps. “Oh, no, not Casper…”

“…Sixth grader Lionel Lawless…”

“How?” she asks aloud.

Prudence clicks her tongue against her teeth disparagingly. “You really are out of the loop, aren’t you, Bony Moronie? Lionel found a knife on the playground yesterday. He was running up the stairs, chasing some kid with it, when he fell on it. You know what they say, ‘Don’t run with scissors.’ Guess the same is true about knives.”

                                               ***

Edie can feel herself drifting off. She takes a deep breath, knowing what’s going to happen.

She’s back at the top of the stairs. Closing her eyes, Edie lets the nightmare overtake her.

The fog engulfs Edie, pulling her down the steps and into the basement.

A dozen faceless, shadowy individuals confront her.

Terrified, Edie tries to run but can’t move.

Nana speaks to her in an amiable whisper. “Don’t worry, Pumpkin. We won’t hurt you.”

“No! Where’s your face? You’re not my Nana. You’re her ghost.”

“Maybe I am.”

“What do you want from me? Why have you been torturing me? Wake up, Edie! Wake up!”

“Stop, Pumpkin. You’ve come this far. Farther than ever before. Aren’t you curious?”

“No. I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be frightened by our appearance.”

“But I am. Angels are supposed to be beautiful creatures of light. You’re scary, faceless, and you live in the darkness.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

Nana’s blank face begins to change. Close-set, shrewd eyes appear, along with a long, sharp nose, a pointed chin, and silver hair tied in a tight, severe bun.

“Who are those people you’re with, Nana?”

“They’re my friends. People who want to come home, just like me.”

Unpleasant features and wretched expressions fill out the shadow figure’s empty faces.

“Angels are supposed to be beautiful, not threatening,” Edie says. “Why are all of you so unhappy?”

“Because we miss our families.”

Edie recognizes some of the people in the crowd.

“Isn’t that Morgan Watson? He killed his wife and his little boy, then shot himself… And that’s Phil Shenkman… He got drunk one afternoon and ran down a mother and her baby…”

Edie shudders when she sees a porky boy with maroon-colored skin and horns. “And why is Lionel Lawless with you? He’s a devil, and now he looks like one!”

“He promises to be good when he gets his second chance at life.”

Lionel gives Edie an insincere smile, grinding his teeth hungrily.

“…I wanna live again, Bony Maronie… I wanna play cowboys and Indians again…”

“Don’t believe anything he says, Nana.”

“You can help us come home. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“…I suppose so...”

“Only certain children can reach out to the departed and bring them back into your world. Children who are smart, sensitive, and free from sin.”

“I still don’t understand. Why did you choose me, Nana?”

“So I can take your place.”

The fog covers Charlotte, pulling her toward Nana.

“No! You can’t take my body. What’ll happen to me?”

“You’ll stay here.”

“No! Someone please help me!”

An iridescent light rips through the fog, blanketing the basement.

Edie’s grandfather and Aunt Charlotte block Greta from getting to her.

Greta grimaces at the sight of Allen and Charlotte, turning away.

“Why can’t you look at the man who loved you, Greta?” Allen asks.

“Why can’t you look at the daughter you murdered?” Charlotte asks.

Greta watches, cringing as their skin withers and rots, sliding from their faces.

Allen and Charlotte’s bones crumble, dissipating into dust.

“…And now the pain you’ve caused will consume you…,” Allen’s disembodied voice says.

The dust blows onto Greta. Shrieking, she tries to brush it off.

The fog moves away from Edie, surrounding Greta. It swirls, gaining speed, sweeping up Greta and her followers.

The swirling fog moves toward Edie…

                                               ***

When Edie wakes up in the hospital, she sees her mother’s concerned smile.

“Am I dead?”

“No, Edie. But I was worried about you. You had cerebral edema, a swelling of the brain from an infection. You’ve been in the hospital for a week, running a high fever, calling out for me and Casper. Who’s Casper?”

“My make-believe friend.”

“Well, young lady, you’ll soon be out of here and be able to make some real friends. You also called out for Nana a few times…”

“The evil thing in my nightmare. It was Nana.”

Lenore’s gaze sinks. “Sometimes people aren’t what they seem. She poisoned Charlotte and my father. I wanted to turn her in, but it wouldn’t bring Charlotte and my Dad back. I thought her having to live without you was the right punishment.”

“She wanted a chance to kill again, and I nearly gave it to her,” Edie says. “I dreamed Grandpa and Aunt Charlotte stopped her. I wish I could have gotten to know them.”

“You will. When you get home there’s a video of the three of us you should see.”

                                               ***

Mrs. Couples asks the students to pair up for a science project, giving Edie a sympathetic smile when no one picks her.

“We have a new student, a nice boy,” she says to Edie. “Why don’t you two work together?”

The slight, dark-haired boy sticks out his hand.

“Hi. My name is…”

“Casper Crowley! I think we’re going to be good friends.”