Red

Bits of white danced with the windshield wipers. The red car sped through the dreary landscape like a bloody bullet shot through a body in a movie. The blacktop cut through dead leaves, dead grass, balding trees, and birds who hadn’t thought about flying south for the winter. Flurries flew from a vertical to a diagonal as a strong wind bent the birches double like crippled old men. Hunchbacked in a storm, their arms accepted the gift of snow. It was something to fill their hands, their branches in a time of emptiness.

Harry watched the dead world from the passenger seat seeking out the last vestiges of life. He looked over his left shoulder. He looked over his right shoulder. He looked at Gia, speeding happily through the winter wonderland in her chunky-knit white hat with a large red pom-pom. In a warm capsule in a cold world, Harry had spiders crawling up his spine beneath his sweater.

“First snow?” he asked.

“We’ll have to ask when we get in, but I think so!” Gia said. “God, it’s so nice to be up here away from the city.”

Harry fiddled with the FM radio.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Gia said. “That stuff never works up here, I think we go out of range as soon as we enter the forest. Besides, I like the quiet. I can almost hear myself think.”

Harry watched a deer running through the trees alongside the car. It could’ve been pretty, but to him it looked like a madcap Grandma Moses painting. All he could think about was how this landscape was the perfect set up for a horror movie. The deer continued to run, racing the car, until it turned and tried to cross the road.

Gia hit the brakes. Tires screeched as the red bullet became a battering ram. The Spirit of Ecstasy, the hood ornament that rested on the front grille of the car collided with the side of the deer. Red appeared around the neck of the woman. Gia put the car in reverse and backed out of the deer.

The deer turned its head to look at Gia, it blinked twice and then turned to Harry. A drop of blood dripped from its side onto the road. The deer looked down at the blood and walked off the road.

Gia put the car in drive and kept going.

“About five more minutes if I remember correctly,” she told Harry. “My Aunt Rosie died when I was four or five and I haven’t been here since. I imagine it hasn’t changed very much.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“Well, you know, in these parts of the country they’re sort of immune to change,” Gia said. “The houses are large and far apart, and no one really knows their neighbors.”

“Snow and elitism,” Harry said sarcastically. “Who wouldn’t want to stay here?”

“What do you think of the trees?” Gia asked.

“Eerie,” Harry said. “It’s like they’re waiting for something or someone. And everything’s so brown and bare. This big forest and this hotel in the middle of nowhere makes me feel like we’re driving into ‘The Shining’,” Harry said.

“Okay, but we’re not even going to a real hotel, it’s just an old house,” Gia said.

“It’s just… the trees,” Harry said.

Harry watched the trees bent double, again, by another gust of wind. The snow was now falling more steadily, more thickly.

 “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” he mused.

“Drop the Stephen King allusions,” Gia said.

Harry sighed.

Gia turned right on an unmarked road.

“It’s going to snow the rest of the day and all tonight. Tomorrow, we can go, like, cross-country skiing or something,” Gia said. “I know, it’s cold. But you’ve got my love to keep you warm.” She smiled, grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed it.

“Or we could just stay inside,” Harry said. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“That too,” Gia agreed. “But no phones and no computers. Vacation mode.”  

“Our first couple vacation,” Harry said.

The trees parted at a clearing up ahead.  

The flurries had accelerated from dandruff to wisps to cotton balls.

A white-out was imminent.

Gia slowed the car to a crawl on the quickly vanishing road. Lights appeared ahead, floating amongst the trees. As they approached, Harry realized they were attached to a house. The house was so old it was part of the landscape. It was dark and dead-looking, and Harry could only see some lights blooming neatly by the door. The outline of the looming structure lived in the trees and was obscured by the thickening snow.

“All the rooms are at the back of the house, that’s why there aren’t too many lights,” Gia said.

“This is a landed-gentry, Edgar Allan Poe type home,” Harry said.

“Aunt Rosie was kinda a gold digger,” Gia said. “She married a super-rich guy who was old and didn’t live very long. This was his house. He didn’t have any kids, he died, and then it was Aunt Rosie’s house.”

“Uhhh,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I know,” Gia said. “My family was a little skeeved out, but then we all kind of just went with it cause it’s a cool house.”

“I believe it’s bad juju to talk about a place when you’re there, or a person when you’re with them, or an experience while it’s happening. But, we will be talking about this, ” Harry said.

“It’s perfectly safe here!” Gia protested. “You’re just superstitious.”

“Who owns the house now?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Gia admitted.

She parked next to a row of cars in the last space closest to the house.

“Your mariticidal aunt no longer lives here?” Harry asked.

“She’s dead.” Gia confirmed. “Besides, look at all the other people staying here!”

Harry looked at the cars, enough to transport a dozen couples. Each car had a festive dusting of snow on its hood. Now there were thirteen, with the arrival of their car.

They stood in the snow and looked at the cars and the house.

Gia grabbed Harry’s gloved hand.

“C’mon it’ll be fun,” she said looking up at him. “And, if it isn’t we’ll have a good story to tell.”

In the dim outdoor lamplight, Harry saw that the two Gothic front doors were blood red; same color as the car, same color as the blood of the deer Gia hit. The bronze lion heads sat eye-level on each extra-large door. The lions had heavy rings in their mouths that threatened to smash the fingers of anyone unwelcome who dared knock on the door. There were no doorknobs.

Gia pushed the door with her free right hand. It didn’t budge. She wriggled her left hand out from Harry’s grip and pressed against the door with her full weight. The door swung forward, and Gia fell in. Harry quickly followed and shut the door.

Inside it was warm, and everything was the same red as the doors, the deer, the car: red walls, red couches, red carpet.

At the end of the foyer a lady wearing a red dress and red lipstick, sat at a red desk. She wasn’t wearing a name tag.

“Checking in?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gia said. “The reservation is in my name, De la Torre.”

The Lady in Red looked at Gia.

“My aunt used to own this place,” Gia rambled. “Rosie Powell?”

“I don’t know her,” said the Lady in Red. “Who are you?”

“Her niece,” Gia said.

She pulled off her gloves and pulled her hat up and off her head by the red pom-pom.

Harry watched her. He noticed that Gia fit in. The red pom-pom matched the walls, the doors, the deer, the car. She belonged here.

“I don’t see anything for De la Torre,” said the Lady in Red. “Any other name it could be under?”

“You could try Smith,” Gia said.

She looked at Harry. “There’s a chance I put it in your name and forgot,” she whispered to him.

Harry shrugged. He was feeling spiders crawling up his spine again.

“Nope, nothing!” said the Lady in Red cheerfully.

“Would we be able to book a room now?” Harry asked.

“We’re fully booked on the 13^th of December,” said the Lady in Red.

“What’s the date?” Harry asked Gia.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What’s the date?” Harry asked the Lady in Red.

“Friday the 13^th.”

Harry felt spiders crawling all over his body, not just his spine. His palms began to sweat, and his mouth was dry.

“Is there any way you could make an exception?” Gia asked sweetly. She smiled wide, showing all her teeth. “For family of the former owner… you know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know the former owner,” said the Lady in Red.

“It’s snowing really hard out there, and its not safe to drive,” Harry said, stepping forward. He sounded braver than he felt. “Anything you can give us, really, please.”

“All our rooms are full,” said the Lady in Red.

“Well, what if we slept in one of the living rooms with the velvet couches?” Gia asked.

“You have been here before!” The Lady in Red exclaimed, poorly disguising her surprise.

“I’m sorry, but people always try the family excuse with me.”

Gia continued to smile with her teeth and not her eyes.

The Lady in Red looked at her.

“Let me think about it,” she said.

“Thank you,” Harry said.  

The Lady in Red vanished through a red door in the red wall.

“Are all the doors like that?” Harry asked Gia.

“Like what?” Gia said.

“Hidden.” Harry said.

 “I guess it depends on the room. Every house has its secrets,” Gia said.  

Harry sat down on a red velvet couch near the desk. He shrugged out of his jacket and sank deep in the cushions.

“Babe,” Gia said. She raised her eyebrows, “you’re sweating a lot.”

Harry looked down. There were dark crescent moons beneath his neck and beneath each arm.

“You know I’m superstitious and I watch too much true crime,” Harry said defensively. “You have to admit this is kind of creepy.”

Gia smirked.

“And…” Harry started.

“It’s Friday the 13^th,” Gia finished. “I know, I get it. It’s like your sensitivity and your scaredy-cat nature.”

“That’s patronizing,” Harry said.

“It’s sweet,” Gia said.

She put her hands on his knees and kissed the tip of his nose.

The lights went out with an electric snap, like the turning off of an old television.

Gia stayed leaning over Harry.

“Well, that is a little creepy,” Gia admitted in the dark.

Harry couldn’t see anything. He felt Gia’s presence through her touch and her warm breath near his face. She hadn’t moved since the kiss.

An electrical hum filled the air as the wall sconces and then the chandelier flickered on again.

The Lady in Red returned.

“Old houses,” she said gesturing at the ceiling. “You know how it is.”

Gia stood and walked back to the desk.

“You are okay to stay in the green room tonight,” said the Lady in Red. She pointed to a part of the wall housing an invisible door. “Evening activities will be in the hall, here.”

“Thank you,” Gia said.

“There are two couches and an attached bathroom. We can’t lock it per se because there is no key. Rest assured; people will not be going in there. You generally can’t find the living rooms unless the doors are open, or you already know they are there.”

“Okay,” Gia said.

“Please, right over there,” said the Lady in Red, waving to the wall.

Gia and Harry walked to the wall. Gia pushed the wall with one hand.

A door swung inwards, revealing a room of deep forest green. A roaring fireplace dominated the outer wall with the windows, and two velvet green sofas sat in a V facing the fire. The wall shared with the foyer was covered in books. The walls perpendicular to the windows were mirrored and partially covered with heavy deep green curtains.

Harry dropped their bag between the two couches and sank down into the one on the left. The couch was warm and comfortable.

Gia laid her coat on the right-side couch. She looked at Harry lying on the left-side couch in repose.

“It’s weird, but now I’m comfortable and I don’t care as much,” Harry said. “This room is kind of awesome, even if we don’t get a bed.”

“Can I join you?” Gia asked.

“No offense, babe, but I kinda want to soak this in solo right now,” Harry said. “I feel a nap coming on. I can see the snow falling outside, the giant fire inside, and you. It’s the most perfect vision.”

“Alright,” Gia said.

She sat down on the opposite couch and kicked off her boots. She stared into the fire, thinking about Aunt Rosie. What had happened to her?

Aunt Rosie had died. Gia went to the funeral.

But had she?

The Lady in Red was strange. Familiar and strange.    

Gia laid down on the couch, looking at the ceiling. Green, with a twinkling silver chandelier presiding over her and Harry.

She tried to remember the history of the house: the monochromatic rooms, the Gothic exterior, the secret doors and passageways, and how it became a hotel.

She fell asleep instead.

Harry woke to the same scene in the green room: snow falling, fire roaring, Gia.

“Gia,” he said.

She didn’t move.

“Gia,” he said, a little louder.

No response.

Harry got up and walked over to Gia.

He crouched by her side.

“Gia,” he whispered.

She was asleep on the couch on her back. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were moving beneath her closed eyelids.

The Lady in Red stood behind the couch.

“Leave her,” she said.

Harry stood up.

“I can’t leave her like this. She never sleeps like this. Her sleep is always calm and peaceful.”

“I said leave her,” the Lady in Red commanded. “She is safe here. She knew she would be. That is why you are here, on Friday the 13^th in the first snow of the season.”

“Who are you?” Harry asked.

“I am Aunt Rosie reincarnated.”

“What the…?” Harry started. “You know what, I don’t even want to know.”

“Same person, different body,” said the Lady in Red. “The less questions the better.”

“Will you tell her?” Harry asked and gestured to Gia.

“Eventually,” said the Lady in Red.

She stood to leave, and Harry followed her to the door.

He looked at Gia on the couch, in her comatose fit.

“Really, it’s fine,” said the Lady in Red. “It runs in the family.”

“Famous last words,” Harry quipped.

They ducked out of the room.

The lights were low in the red room. The guests had assembled on the long walls between the desk and the door. They wore all black: boots, pants, parkas, and gloves. They wore crowns with three-armed candelabras. In the dark, it looked as if the candles were floating.

The Lady in Red walked to the front of the hall and stood by the door.

“Out!” she commanded.

The two doors opened in, and the guests walked out into the night. The flames did not topple or falter in the wind or snow. They assembled in a circle in the driveway, with the Lady in Red in the middle.

Harry stood in the doorway, watching.

The snow fell thickly onto the black-clad guests, accumulating on their shoulders and shoes. It was eerily pretty and Harry started to sweat in the cold air.

“You,” the Lady in Red pointed at Harry. “Call him.”

“Call who?” Harry asked approaching her inside the circle.

“The deer,” said the Lady in Red.

She gave Harry a red pillar candle about a meter tall. It was the same color as Gia’s pom-pom, the red room, the doors, the deer’s blood, the car. As soon as it touched his skin, it burst into flame. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, but the candle would keep him warm.

“Go,” said the Lady in Red. “Seek the deer.”

Harry walked in the direction of the road. He didn’t have to walk far until he found the deer, or perhaps the deer found him.

The deer walked past him and toward the house, bleeding freely onto the clean white snow from the fresh wound in its side. Sweaty and shaking, Harry followed the scarlet path back to the circle.

The guests broke the edge of the circle to let the deer enter. It stood in the center, waiting.

“Go,” said the Lady in Red. “Sacrifice.”

Harry approached the deer with the candle. A puddle of frozen blood marked the center of the circle. The deer looked at him. He brought the candle close to the deer.

“Red. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.” The guests chanted.

Harry brought the flame to the tip of the deer’s antlers, one side than the other.

Screams flew out the open doors of the house.

Gia.

Harry tried to turn to move but couldn’t. His arm was still outstretched with the candle. The candle was still lit, the deer was still burning.

“RED. RED. RED. RED. RED. RED. RED.” The guests chanted louder.

The deer was an inferno.

The snow melted beneath its feet. The gravel driveway absorbed the pooled blood.

The blood stopped dripping from its side, and the wound knit itself back together.

Flaming, the deer walked out of the circle and back down the road.

Harry’s candle went out.

He looked at the guests gathered in the circle, their candelabra crowns still glowing brightly in the night.

“Welcome to Red,” Gia said from the open doorway. “Welcome to the family.”