Silence enveloped me.
I stood still, again trying to pick up on any unusual sounds. A thump, a rustling, any movement indicating I was not alone.
None came.
I walked through the hallway into the living room. The large flat screen hung above the fireplace, dark and still. Nothing out of place on the sofas or recliner by the fireplace. I traveled up the squeaky stairway to the second floor, holding on to the wide walnut handrail.
I placed a sandaled foot onto the top of the landing, recently buffed walnut hardwood floor gleaming in the hallway. My other foot moved to join the first when a sound stopped me.
A faint tinkling.
From the attic.
I stood still, listening. Silence. Then another tinkling above me. It occurred to me I hadn’t checked the attic when the necklace appeared on my vanity table.
Was someone waiting for me upstairs?
Shivers raced through me. I steeled my body. If they were waiting, I was ready to fight, if I had to do so. I walked to the attic door at the end of the hallway. My hand reached out to turn the doorknob.
Another sound stopped me.
A loud knocking at the front door.
I turned and crept down the stairs, quietly sidling up to sneak a look through the peephole.
A man in a baseball cap and a plaid blue short-sleeve shirt stood on the other side of the door.
John Larabe.
I opened the door.
“Hey, John,” I greeted. “I feel like I just saw you.” I laughed awkwardly at my dumb joke.
He gave me an odd smile.
“Yeah, just wanted to let you know I’m here to do the fields.”
I nodded, noting the large John Deere tractor in our side field. “Great.” I paused. “That’s a big tractor.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Um… what if someone was in the field and that tractor went through it?”
A confused look crossed his face. “Do you think someone is in the field?”
I shook my head. “No, I just wondered.”
“Well, if someone is hiding in the field, they better get out. This tractor could do serious damage to a person if they got caught in it,” he stated.
“I would imagine,” I replied. “Okay, thanks for letting me know. Bye.”
I closed the door. Maybe harvesting the field would have a dual benefit. I stared at the landing on the second floor. I mounted the stairs, taking two at a time, a firm grip on my pocketknife until I was once again at the attic door.
I turned the knob.
I entered the dark, narrow stairway, not sure if I should pull the string light or just scurry up the stairs and look around.
Another tinkling. Louder now that I was in the stairwell. I scurried. Now I stood at the top, dark, musty attic surrounding me.
Tinkle.
A wooden wind chime hung from the ceiling, directly in front of the stained-glass window at the center of the house. The window stood slightly ajar, allowing a breeze to enter the room, moving the wind chime. I pulled the string light in the center of the room.
Its dim light gave a bit more clarity to the few shapes in the room. An old trunk of Aunt Lou’s filled with photo albums and assorted memorabilia of our family. Two of Archie’s filing cabinets. Two old wooden rocking chairs, an old Tiffany lamp, and a stunning walnut wardrobe that likely weighed a ton and nobody wanted to move, that were left from the previous owners. I opened the wardrobe door. Empty as it had been when we moved in. Nothing looked any different than that day.
The wind chime. I didn’t remember it. Did Archie hang it? Why would he do that though? And why was the window open?
I surveyed the attic again, nothing unusual. I walked to the window, casting a glance below before closing it.
John Larabe stood in the yard.
Staring back at me.
SEVENTEEN2023
Aimee
I stared out the passenger side window of Robin’s car, air conditioning blasting in my face, a cool reprieve before arriving at the fair. I glanced back at Archie in the backseat, scrolling through his phone. Yesterday, after John left the yard to do the fields, I scoured the house again, but found nothing unusual. My fears had been settled when Archie came home though. I told him what Robin said about hearing music in the house, and he said he’d been watching TV with a coffee. He didn’t see her text until later. He also confirmed the wind chime was there when we moved in, and that he opened the attic window on occasion to air it out. Mystery solved. John staring at me from the front lawn? The guy was a weirdo, that much I knew.
