When Darkness Calls

After we put the groceries away, my mother went in search of the documents the financial planner wanted. She looked stressed, but I didn’t pry yet. I had an important phone call to make, according to my best friend.

“What’s up, Haylee?” I greeted her when she answered. “Are you missing me already?”

“Yes,” she said, not sounding as bereaved as I’d hoped she would. Before I could tease her, she blurted, “Payton and I kissed!”

My eyes watered slightly as a pang of jealousy shot through my chest. Though Payton had never been anything more than just a crush, I was stunned by my conflicted feelings.

I must have paused for too long, because Haylee asked, “Dharma? Are you still there?”

I muted the phone for a moment so I could clear my throat and dab my eyes. When I was confident that I could keep my voice even, I unmuted the phone.

“Sorry about that, Haylee.” I forced a laugh. “I must have muted the phone!”

I was not shocked that Haylee had done as I had instructed and shot her shot with Payton. I guess I was just surprised at the speed with which her relationship with him had developed.

As I listened to recall how their meeting had unfolded, I had to wonder if Payton had expressed interest in Haylee before and if she’d rebuffed him out of loyalty to me.

I thought about just flat out asking her, but I knew that even if it were true, she would deny it to spare my feelings.

My mother’s voice reached up the stairs. “Dharma, lunch will be ready soon!”

Somewhat relieved, I said goodbye to Haylee and returned to the kitchen.

“Go fetch the folding chairs from the car,” my mother told me, “and don’t forget to bring in the air mattresses, unless you want to sleep on the floor.”

I saluted sarcastically. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Don’t get smart,” she warned, giving me a playful swat on the arm with the clean spatula in her hand.

“I’m going, I’m going!” I cried dramatically. “Stop hitting me, or I’ll be forced to report you to CPS.”

Unconcerned, my mother turned her attention back to the food. “If they took you, they would regret it.”

“They would beg you to take me back,” I agreed as I exited the kitchen.

“They would have to pay me first!”

Grinning, I hurried outside and began unloading the car. I looped my arms through the lawn chairs, hoping I could get everything inside in one trip, but with the air mattresses and blankets, it was too cumbersome.

I placed some of the items on the grass next to the sidewalk so I wouldn’t have as far to go on my return trip and dropped off the folding chairs in the kitchen. Then I dashed back outside to retrieve the rest of the items.

I had just gathered our blankets in my arms when a rustling caught my attention.

I spun around just in time to catch sight of a sneakered foot disappearing into the hedges that divided our property from the neighboring land.

I froze, suddenly terrified. “Hello?”

When I received no response and there was no other movement from the hedges, I waddled as quickly as I could into the house.

Distracted, I didn’t notice that my mother had walked into the living room, and I nearly collided with her. I gasped, dropping my load onto the floor.

“Dharma!” my mother cried, throwing her hands out so she didn’t topple over. “You shouldn’t have tried to carry so much.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her what I’d seen outside, but I hesitated, because I didn’t want her to worry. For all I knew, it was only a nosy neighborhood kid. So, instead, I said, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, you only hurt yourself,” my mother said, shaking her head. “Anyway, lunch is done, and I’m hungry.” She touched her stomach to demonstrate her urgency.

“Same,” I agreed. “And I can’t wait to lie down. I am beat.”

“I plan to nap as well, but I can’t rest on an empty stomach,” my mother said, shooing me in the direction of the bathroom to wash up.

I hurried to wash my hands and face, patting my skin dry with the least dusty towel, then joined my mother for lunch.

We ate, shared our observations about the town, and I recalled my conversation with Haylee. Though I attempted to keep my tone light when I spoke about Haylee and Payton, my mother wasn’t fooled.

She reached over and clasped my hand. “There are plenty of slugs in the rain.”

“I think you mean that there are plenty of fish in the sea,” I corrected her.

“I would never insult fish,” she retorted.

After lunch, we each chose a bedroom to set up camp. Though I secretly wanted the yellow room with the rose rug, I offered it to my mother while I set up my air mattress in the pink room.

We agreed that we wouldn’t nap for too long so we could sleep that evening.

“We need to be fresh and fit when the moving company arrives,” my mother said, so we both set alarms, agreeing that a couple of hours would be plenty.

Though it was only late afternoon and sunlight was still spilling through the windows, I had no trouble falling asleep as soon as my head hit the mattress.

I felt as if I had just dozed off when my sleep was interrupted by a flashing light that caused my eyelids to fly open. I must have slept through the alarm, though, because the room was pitch black.

“Damn it,” I spat as I threw aside my blanket and began to rub the remaining sleep from my eyes. “Mom, we slept through the alarms!” I called out as I sat up.

When I didn’t hear a response, I threw my legs over the air mattress, slid my feet into my slippers, and crossed the room to flip the light switch next to the door.

When the room remained dark, I flipped the switch again, but the chandelier dangling from the center of the room didn’t even blink.

“I think we may need to replace the bulb in my room,” I complained, hoping my whining would wake my mother.

When I spoke, a bulb from another room flickered. “Are you having trouble with your lights too?” I asked, emerging so I could aid my mother.

“Mom?” I called, knocking on the door of the yellow room. When I didn’t receive a response, I pushed it wide open.

The streetlamps outside lit up the room, and I could make out my mother’s air mattress, which she had positioned in the center of the circular rug. Even from the threshold, I could tell her bed was empty.

She must have awakened earlier and decided to let me snooze.

As I exited my mother’s bedroom, the room across the hall lit up.

“Mom?” I called out uncertainly as I crossed the hall to investigate. As soon as my fingers touched the door so I could nudge it open, the room plunged into darkness once again.

“Mom!” I shouted this time. “Please answer me!”

When my pleas were met with silence, I wrapped my arms around my upper body. Though I did my best to be brave, I was trembling.

“Mom?” I managed to squeak as I used the wall to guide myself to the stairs. “Mom, are you there?” I persisted as I reached the banister and began using my feet to find the top step.

This time, I received a response. The foyer at the foot of the stairs lit up, allowing me to make out the silhouette of the stairwell.

As I carefully crept down, I could hear rustling below, and suddenly it occurred to me what was happening: we were being robbed.

Whoever had invaded our home must have shoved my mother into the basement, and she was messing with the fuse box to warn me.

Though my knees had turned to jelly, and I wanted to do nothing more than retreat, I forced myself to keep going. If I was going to rescue my mother, I would have to get out the front door and seek help.

I focused on placing one foot in front of the other as I continued down the stairs, when one of the steps released a loud creak.

I paused and braced myself, expecting to be bombarded at any moment.

When the intruders didn’t rush the stairs and there was no flurry of activity from down below, I gingerly continued my descent, this time on my tiptoes, hoping the redistribution of my weight would create less noise.

I only had three steps remaining when the foyer suddenly went dark. I froze, certain I had been discovered. I felt for the next step, keeping my toes pointed as I prepared to push past the invaders and flee.

Suddenly, the lights burst to life, and I was taken aback by the two figures in our living room.

One was a very pregnant blonde woman that I didn’t recognize, seated on a sofa. Though she was an unwelcome guest in my home, it was difficult to find her menacing considering her awkward position.

In fact, she looked as frightened as I felt as she watched a muscular man pace back and forth across the room. Though I was in plain sight, neither the man nor the woman acknowledged my presence.

“Stop telling me not to worry!” the woman shouted. “The debts are piling up, and the bank is threatening to foreclose.”

My breath caught in my throat when the man came to an abrupt halt. He stood stock-still, clenching his fist to his sides. “What do you want from me, Karen?” he demanded. “You are the one that insisted on buying this damn house.”

“I know, Dan,” the woman replied, placing a hand on her swollen belly as she attempted to stand. “I’m just worried because the baby is almost here, and we still haven’t finished the nursery.”

“We don’t have any money for materials!” Dan cried, throwing up his hands helplessly.

“I know that—”

The man cut her off. “I’m tired, Karen. Tired of this house. And I’m sick of…” He covered his mouth, as if to prevent himself from finishing the sentence.

“Sick of what, Dan?” Karen challenged him.

After a few thoughtful moments, he finally said, “I’m tired of fighting.”

Then the man turned and met my gaze.

I attempted to inhale, but I was paralyzed by fear and my body refused to function. My lungs burned, and though I urged my body to move, it was to no avail. I couldn’t even bring myself to retreat as the man began to charge me.

A solitary tear slid down my cheek as he scowled, and I was certain I wouldn’t live to see another sunrise.

I braced myself, prepared to be brutalized as he marched across the hall. My eyelids twitched as I urged them to close, but they held sturdy, determined that I witness what happened next.

I finally managed to release a squeak when I was sure that he meant to raise an angry fist at me, but he suddenly pivoted and threw open a door that I had assumed was a coat closet.

To my surprise, I heard the clatter of descending footsteps.

My gaze shifted to the woman, who allowed herself to fall back into her seat. Then, after a few moments of stunned silence, she covered her face with her hands and began to sob.

Though I was terrified, my heart lurched for her. I did not know if it was because she appeared so frail and helpless or because I feared for her.

I mustered up the courage to speak, but before I could utter a single syllable, the living room went dark and silent.

I heard a slight twang, and dim light filtered through the cracks around the door that Dan had disappeared through.

I could no longer see the woman, but I doubted she could catch me if I ran, and though the man seemed agile, I doubted he would make it up the stairs before I reached the front door.

Seizing the opportunity, I ran for it.

I skipped the next two stairs, landing hard on the last step. Though my heel hurt, I did not stop until I reached the front door.

I ran my hands along the door in search of the large, brass latch, but for some reason I couldn’t find it.

Worried that the man would return, I panicked and began banging on the glass, hoping to make enough racket to garner the neighbor’s attention.

I beat on the glass until my fists were raw, and though I was making a fair amount of noise, Dan had not bothered to return to stop me. I was perplexed at first, but suddenly my confusion caused a new fear to surface.

If he was in the basement with my mother, then what was he doing that was so intriguing he couldn’t be bothered to come up the stairs and shut me up?

A slow whine worked its way up my throat as I turned my attention to the door I had hoped to avoid. As if sensing my gaze, it slowly creaked open, inviting me to view its contents.

A hard lump formed in my throat, but I didn’t bother to try to swallow it, because the discomfort was the only thing keeping me sane now.

Beyond the door was a set of stairs leading downward. I knew the house had a basement, but I hadn’t bothered to go looking for it earlier, deeming that portion of the house unimportant. Now I could have kicked myself for my oversight.

Keeping a tight hold on the rough banister, I began to make my way down the stairs, remaining on high alert for any surprises.

The stone wall of the basement was only feet away from the stairwell, which meant our escape would be narrow and dangerous—especially if the man decided to push one of us into the wall. I kept that in mind as I lowered my feet onto the concrete floor.

I had not yet planned my next move when a cry rang out. Reflexively, I spun to face whoever had made the sound and saw it was Dan.

I expected him to lurch at me, but he remained on his knees in the center of the room with his eyes closed and his palms pressed together.

I assumed that my presence was no longer a secret, so I opened my mouth, prepared to demand that Dan release my mother, but before I could utter a word, Dan spoke.

“Please,” he said. “If anyone is out there listening, I am willing to do anything to make this work.” Then the man bowed his head and began to sob.

A voice from the shadows responded. “Anything?”