Little Emmett Read online

  “No,” Eileen said. “No windows.”

  “Yeah, no windows,” Tyler agreed.

  “What?” Tobie said, smirking. “You scared I’ll show your girlfriend what a real man looks like?”

  Jackie groaned. “Give it a rest…”

  Tyler was positively amused. “Barking up the wrong tree, kiddo…”

  “Kiddo? Who you calling kiddo? Make your move already!”

  “No, no, no. No moves are being made.” Eileen downed the last of her coffee, wiped her mouth. She got to her feet, ready to head inside. “What Tyler is trying to tell you, is that my girlfriend probably wouldn’t appreciate the competition.”

  Eileen paused, waited. The yard was eerily silent. It was the sound of many naïve minds processing information they didn’t understand. When the silence dragged on long enough, it was Tyler and Eileen who had the last laugh.

  “Wait…” Tobie scratched his face, puzzled. “Huh?”

  Exchanging knowing grins, Tyler and Eileen headed inside together.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  As the first light snow began to fall, Eileen announced she had an idea for something fun they could do indoors.

  They gathered in the upstairs hall, beneath the ladder to the attic, listening to the ceiling grown under Eileen’s every step. Boxes shuffled and thumped noisily overhead.

  “Need any help?” Tyler called.

  She appeared at the top of the ladder. “If I can just hand these down to you…”

  Tyler climbed up a couple rungs, reached his arms over his head. A medium-sized box lowered into his hands. He blew dust from his face. He handed it off to Tobie and Clark, who set it aside out of the way.

  “What’s in here?” Tobie asked.

  As Tyler prepared to take the next box, the children peeked inside the first. Tobie pinched something in his fingers, pulled it out slowly, long and shiny and flowy and gold.

  “Christmas ornaments,” Clark said.

  “Here comes the tree!” Eileen called down.

  “We’ve had a Christmas tree this whole time?” Jackie repeated.

  “Mrs. Holmes hates setting it up,” Tyler said, reaching for the long, heavy box as it tilted out of the attic. “I’ve only seen it once in the five years I’ve lived here.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Within a couple hours, the foyer and reading room were sparkling and full of warm, multi-colored lights. Tinsel rope weaved through the stair banisters and across the upper balcony. They hung a wreath on the front door. On the various desks and end tables in the foyer, they arranged ceramic figurines and a couple wooden nutcracker dolls. They set the tree up in the reading room beside Mrs. Holmes’ reading chair. Eileen suggested it would be fun to read stories that night when the snow came, by the light of the Christmas tree. The children couldn’t wait.

  “Damn, I’m a good babysitter,” she said.

  That evening, Eileen revealed a newly purchased tin of hot cocoa. Everyone carried a hot mug into the reading room, careful not to spill. The Christmas tree cast a bright, colorful glow over the room. Eileen sat in Mrs. Holmes’ reading chair. She opened a book of short Christmas stories, perfect for the occasion.

  Outside, the snow fell thicker and thicker.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The forecasts were right. On top of the plentiful snow they received that night, the next day was a nonstop flurry. The snow traveled sideways, blew in from the trees in an icy gale.

  “It looks worse than it is,” Tobie said, insisting Eileen let them venture outside to at least experience the storm.

  So they put on their winter clothes, laced up their boots, crammed their hats down over their eyes, their gloves on their hands, and Eileen ushered them out from behind the front door, careful not to let the driving snow blow in. Only Bailey, upon feeling the deathly breeze through the door, decided to stay in.

  “Come on!” Tobie shouted, and hurried down the porch steps.

  They followed him, slowly beginning to wonder why. The snow was well over a foot deep in the clearing. Eileen’s Jeep sat without wheels, its tires buried. They remarked on this, trudging tiredly around it.

  “I can barely walk!” Emmett yelled over the wind.

  “I can barely see!” Jackie said.

  “You don’t want to go back already, do you?” Tobie asked reproachfully, snot running from his wind-chapped nose. “It’s not that bad.”

  “I do!” Clark said. “I want to go back!”

  Emmett couldn’t wait to get out of his coat and pants, already cold and wet.

  Their outing was short-lived, and he was glad.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  That afternoon the phone rang. The children listened as they ate their lunch at the kitchen table.

  “Oh, shoots,” Eileen said. “I kind of guessed that’d be the case…”

  “What’s up?” Tyler asked when Eileen finished. “Who was that?”

  “My mom says she won’t be back tonight like she planned. Not with the storm like it is. She’ll drive back tomorrow morning. Hopefully it’ll be done by then.”

  “Will she make it?” Clark asked. “The snow is so deep…”

  “Her truck should handle it okay, I think,” Eileen said.

  Her words were encouraging, though she frowned after she’d said it.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Hey, I found these in those Christmas boxes. You guys interested?”

  Eileen had found Christmas cassette tapes. Stories narrated by various people whose names no one recognized.

  “We can play them tonight,” she said. “Make hot cocoa again while we listen?”

  “And build a blanket fort!”

  The moment Tobie said it, the excitement in the room doubled. Whether she liked it or not, there was little Eileen could do at that point to discourage it.

  “What’s a blanket fort?” Bailey said.

  After dinner, they carried chairs from the kitchen into the reading room and hung blankets across them, using books to hold the blankets in place. When it was finished, they stood in a line, hands on their hips, admiring their work. It was a proper blanket fort—and a proper mess. Eileen remarked she was glad her mom wouldn’t be back that night to witness what they’d done with her books.

  “I don’t know,” Clark said. “Mrs. Holmes can be fun sometimes. I bet she’d like it.”

  After hot chocolate was made and everyone was situated under the blanket fort—Eileen demanded they drink their hot chocolate down some beforehand—Eileen put the portable cassette player on Mrs. Holmes’ reading chair and started the first tape.

  Emmett and Bailey sat together at the opening of the fort, where the listening was best. From there, Emmett had a perfect view into the kitchen, where Tyler and Eileen talked at the kitchen table.

  The storm outside continued. The house groaned in the icy wind, and the snow flecked the windows.

  As per usual, five minutes into the second story Bailey was asleep—long, deep breaths from her open mouth. Emmett grew tired just looking at her. Everyone was calm and quiet, all but Eileen and Tyler, whom Emmett could faintly hear chatting in the other room. Heavy-headed, Emmett lay down, put his head on his arms. Closed his eyes. He could still follow along, he thought. He wasn’t tired, just… relaxed.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  A scream. Emmett jerked awake. The first thing he saw was Bailey doing the same next to him, startled, eyes wide. The blankets above them pulled away. Books toppled onto the floor. Tobie stood in the center of the fort, the blankets in his fists, and he cast them aside.

  “Stop!” he hollered. “I saw what you were doing!”

  He gripped more blankets, the last couple that made up the rear of the fort, and tugged them out of place. More books slipped off the chairs. Someone cried out. Jackie.

  “Tobie!” she said. “You just dumped books on my head!”

  “Good!” he shouted.

  Jackie and Clark lay uncovered on the floor, side by side. Tobie fumed over them, his hands made into fis
ts. Eileen and Tyler arrived in the doorway to see what the commotion was about.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Clark was touching my sister!” Tobie said, pointing. “I saw them… I saw them…”

  “That’s not true! We weren’t even doing anything!” Jackie said.

  “I saw you kissing!” Tobie was red in the face.

  “No we weren’t!” she cried. “And it’s none of your business anyway, Tobie!”

  “Guys,” Eileen started to say, but was interrupted by more of Tobie’s and Jackie’s back and forth. “Guys!”

  “Get away from my sister!” Tobie screamed at Clark, stomping toward him. Clark appeared paralyzed. He sat up, hands up defensively.

  “Hey!” Eileen stepped toward them just as Clark toppled backward in his attempt to lean away from Tobie’s fists. Then Tyler was there, behind Tobie. He grabbed him from behind, ensuring no more punches could be thrown.

  “Knock it off, Tobie!” Jackie said.

  In the midst of it all, Emmett looked at Bailey beside him, eyes watery with nearly-spilled tears, more surprised than anything.

  “Okay,” Tyler said in Tobie’s ear. “Settle down.”

  “Get off me!” he said, thrashing in Tyler’s arms.

  “It’s okay,” Eileen said, voice level and firm. “Everything is fine.”

  “It’s not okay!” Sobbing, he gave up. Tyler kept hold of his arms anyhow, unsure. Tobie whined, “Let go of me!”

  “Are you done?” Tyler asked.

  He let go of him slowly. Tobie shut his eyes, red and streaming tears down his face. His shoulders hunched, his hands still in fists. Tyler put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me!” Tobie barked.

  The cassette continued to play, its story unfinished but unheard. They all watched, waiting for Tobie’s muscles to loosen, for him to no longer resemble a rocket about to take off. His fingers, still balled into fists, clenched and unclenched. He was in an unwinnable position. Either he calmed down and faced the embarrassment of his outrage, or he clung to it, which could only make matters worse.

  “Tobie…” Jackie started to say.

  He whirled on her, his open mouth a black hole.

  “I hate you!”

  “All right, Tobie,” Tyler started to say, until Tobie flung his venom upon him instead.

  “Leave me alone, grandma fucker!”

  Multiple gasps. Finally Eileen had enough.

  “Go upstairs, Tobie. You need to cool off.”

  He passed Clark without a word or glance. As he took his first steps onto the stairs he shouted ahead, into the dark hallway above, “I wish I was home!”

  Behind them, the cassette announced it was time to turn to side B.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Eileen said. “Everyone stay here, please.”

  While she went upstairs, the others returned to the reading room, where their blanket fort had reached an untimely end. Tyler suggested they clean up for the night, and so they did. They returned chairs to the kitchen. Tyler rinsed out mugs in the kitchen sink. They picked books up off the ground and returned them to their shelves. Emmett helped Clark fold blankets.

  “He’s just homesick,” Jackie said. “He’s just…”

  Her mind must have wandered, as she didn’t finish the thought.

  As Emmett stepped toward Clark to fold the next blanket, something in the foyer caught his attention and he dropped his end. Following his gaze, Clark turned around to see what it was.

  Jackie’s mind had wandered because she was the first to see it. What they saw—all but Tyler, who was still in the kitchen—was a stark-naked old man standing at the foot of the stairs. Lionel Holmes, bare from head to toe. Pale, wrinkled, slouched. The withered penis dangling between his legs was an image Emmett would be forever scarred with. Olive and Bo followed him down the stairs. They circled him, curious where their master was leading them. Lionel looked around the room, peered up to the ceiling, nostrils flaring as though he could smell something in the air. The children watched, voiceless, as he crossed the room, sniffing… sniffing…

  “Mr. Holmes?” Clark said.

  The old man’s eyes flitted toward them. Danced around them. They settled on Emmett, who shrank in place, avoiding the old man’s visage altogether.

  “Be good to this world,” Lionel said.

  He went to the front door. Unlocked it. Opened it. A piercing breeze swooped in around them. Emmett cringed against it. White snowflakes flurried into the foyer. Then, in a matter of seconds, Lionel disappeared. Even the dogs paused at the door, looking out into the bitter storm. After a moment’s hesitation, braver than the others, Clark stood in the doorway, peered through the cold night.

  “He’s gone.”

  Emmett and Jackie joined him to look for themselves. The dogs stood with their ears perked, tails raised.

  “It’s too dark and windy to see anything. I don’t see anything.”

  Jackie ran to the bottom of the stairs. With a shrill voice, she screamed, “Eileen!”

  Tyler came in from the kitchen. “What is it?”

  “Mr. Holmes,” Clark said. “He just went outside. He… he wasn’t wearing any clothes!”

  Eileen appeared at the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?”

  “He just… walked out.”

  Eileen and Tyler both threw on their boots and coats and were out in a hurry. As the front door slammed shut, the children were left in a speechless silence. Bailey, barely awake, took hold of Emmett’s hand.

  “It’s cold,” was all she said.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  They waited patiently for several minutes. Privately, Emmett worried none of them would return. The children would wait for hours, days, until it was up to them to take care of themselves…

  A sound from upstairs. A creaking floorboard. Looking up, they saw it was Tobie. His eyes were still puffy and red from his crying.

  “What’s happening?” he asked. “I heard you scream.”

  Jackie nodded. “Mr. Holmes. He was naked and he just… walked out into the snow.”

  “They’re out there looking for him right now,” Clark said.

  Tobie looked to the front door, then down to his feet, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought something over. He wiped his eyes with his palms, his emotions getting the better of him.

  “I’m sorry I was so mad,” he said, his voice a low murmur.

  “It’s okay,” Jackie said.

  Tobie rubbed his arm nervously, hanging his head. He remained at the top of the staircase, too embarrassed to join them.

  “You can come wait with us, if you want,” Jackie said.

  And so he did. They sat on the floor together in the foyer, watching the front door, waiting for everyone’s hopeful return. It was another fifteen minutes before the front door opened and Eileen and Tyler entered, stomping their boots on the rug. Eileen folded back her furry hood, damp with melting snow.

  “Where is he?” Jackie asked.

  Eileen tried to speak. She opened her mouth, shrugged, and couldn’t find the words. Before the children saw her fall apart, she escaped down the hall and into the kitchen, to the phone hanging on the wall, where she would make a very painful call to her mother. Tyler, taking off his coat, could only shake his head.

  In the other room, grief climbed its way through the walls to the children’s ears. A sound they would struggle to forget for most of the night.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The storm calmed through the night. The following morning, Tyler got up before the others, and returned just as they were beginning to wake.

  “Anything?” Clark asked.

  Tyler shook his head. “Still no sign of him.”

  Tobie jumped out of bed, ran to the window. He leaned toward the glass, surveying the damage. “There must be more than two feet out there. He’s—”

  “Okay, Tobie.”

  “—buried.”

  Tyler
sighed, heavy and melancholy. “Right.”

  “He’s dead,” Clark said, gazing distantly into the floor beside his bed. He looked to Tyler. “Isn’t he?”

  Emmett couldn’t quite grasp it himself. It all happened so suddenly.

  The wait for Mrs. Holmes would be a universally dreadful one.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Despite the temptation of playing in the snow, the children couldn’t bring themselves to go outside. Eileen was quiet all morning. Tyler helped with breakfast, and she joined them eventually but her usual humor and wit were nowhere to be found. Once breakfast was over, she went upstairs and shut herself in her parents’ bedroom.

  “Are you sure Mrs. Holmes will make it back okay?” Jackie asked.

  “We’ve had worse storms,” Tyler said. “She’s got a plow for the truck. She’ll be fine.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  It was nearing lunchtime when they heard the truck outside. Clark peered through the curtains in the foyer.

  “She’s here!”

  Tyler ran upstairs, jumping three steps at a time in his hurry to let Eileen know. Emmett watched with Clark as Mrs. Holmes, in a puffy coat with a winter hat pulled snug over her head, jumped from the truck down into the snow. She nearly fell over in it. She came hurriedly, as quickly as she could trudge. Clark opened the door to let her in as she started up the porch steps.

  She pushed past, kicking snow across the floor from her boots. Passing her eyes over the children, she continued toward the stairs.

  “Eileen!” she called.

  “Mom?”

  Eileen emerged from the upstairs hallway, followed slowly by Tyler, hands stuffed in his pockets. Both women covered their faces for an instant, hiding their grief. Eileen started down and Mrs. Holmes climbed toward her, until they met on the middle steps and threw their arms around one another.

  Tyler exchanged looks with the children down below. Giving the mother and daughter their time together, they each turned away in search of any distraction.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SICKNESSES

  Emmett kneeled with Jackie and Tobie and Clark in the dim hallway. Through the door, there were voices. Murmurs. Without fail, at any given time of day, if they listened long enough they would hear the faint sounds of weeping.