Return to Whitaker Street - 7

“You know,” she said, a disgusted tone to her voice,  “that stupid tapping and this ridiculous laughing is beginning to really annoy me.”  She grabbed his hand.  “Come on, let’s go back out the window and see if we can get into the basement.”1

Jason switched on the flashlight and cautiously stuck his head through the doorway, scanning the hall for any sign of the “intruder” who really seemed to be a resident there, but was quickly knocked aside by Mary Ellen, now intent on getting to the basement.  The hall was quiet and empty, thank goodness.2

“Let’s go, it looks clear,” he called after her, sarcastically.  “For someone who’s been through what you’ve been through in this house, you sure do just blunder along.”3

She ignored his jibe and dragged him down the hallway, tugging incessantly on his hand, urging him to hurry and to keep up.4

“Tell me you love me and then say something like that,” she tossed over her shoulder playfully, not slowing down at all.5

“Thought maybe you didn’t hear it when you didn’t answer me right back,” he said, trying to keep from falling as she dragged him down the staircase.  “Slow down!” he finally said.  “Geez!”6

She slowed to a casual walk at the bottom, heading for the back of the house and the window they had used to get in.7

“Why do you think the basement is the key?” he asked suddenly.8

She stopped quickly and turned toward him and, for some reason he was afraid that she was going to lash out at him.  But, she didn’t.  Instead, she stood close in front of him, her hands on his chest, and played with the buttons on his shirt, thinking.  She was still like that for long seconds, playing idly with the buttons, first one and then another, then back to the first one, her mind obviously occupied and somewhere far away.  Jason, though puzzled, stood patiently still, waiting for her answer, almost afraid of what it might be.9

“I know you think I’m obsessed by that picture.  You’re right, of course, in a way.  But there’s more.  When I’m in that room, everything feels different.  I just seem to . . . to tingle all over.  I can’t really describe it.  It’s just a feeling that comes over me, like nothing I’ve ever had before, like I know something that I haven’t known before – but, and this sounds silly, I don’t know what it is that I know.”  She stopped, still playing with the buttons, glancing up at him occasionally.10

“Don’t move,” she whispered, “but I just saw a shadow behind you – and there it is again.  It has to be that woman.”  She was speaking so softly that Jason could barely hear her and he leaned forward so her mouth was close to his ear.  “It’s moving toward us – very slowly,” she continued, still playing with the buttons.  “If she gets much closer, I’m gonna yell go – and we’ll get her.”11

“No,” he mouthed against her ear.12

“Yes,” she whispered and there was no mistaking her tone, even in the whisper.  “Almost there.”13

Jason tensed, gripping the flashlight tightly, not sure about what was going to happen, apprehensive that it would come to a bad end, but unable to slow the intensity of this dark haired basketball player who was casually playing with his shirt buttons.14

“Go,” she yelled and he spun around, shining the flashlight up the hall as he tried to keep up with the flash in black that was Mary Ellen.  In the glare of the flashlight, the figure froze for a moment, almost like a deer in a car’s headlights, then turned to flee.  But, the pause was long enough and Mary Ellen landed on the figure’s back, arms around her neck, almost before she had to begin running.  And Jason, fearing for his new love, was there with her, on top of the frantically writhing form cloaked in black, afraid they were in over their heads but unwilling to relent.  He spread-eagled over her as best he could, since Mary Ellen’s flying tackle had put her on the floor face down and he knew she was less able to fight them from that position.  But, she wasn’t giving up and there were continual grunts and groans and other sudden outcries.  Mary Ellen, stronger than she looked or seemed was holding her own and Jason had an arm and leg totally tied up.15

Then, as suddenly as the struggle had begun, it ended as the dark form lay still on the floor.16

“Are you through?” Jason asked cautiously, not relaxing a bit.  But there was no immediate answer.17

“Well?” he added.18

“I’m through,” said a softly feminine voice and Jason saw Mary Ellen glance at him with raised eyebrows.  “You can let loose, I won’t fight any more.  I promise.”  Somehow, she sounded sincere, he thought and cautiously released his hold on her arm.  Mary Ellen did likewise with the other arm..  Jason slid off her and slowly she rolled over, her face now caught in the beam of the flashlight.19

“Oh!” she exclaimed, squinting.20

“Sorry,” he said, moving the light to the side but keeping her face illuminated.21

What they saw was a very pretty face surrounded by frame of deep Auburn hair, now very mussed and unruly. Dark eyes flashed from one to the other, more puzzled than hateful, but also full of mistrust.22

“Who are you?” she asked, looking from one to the other.23

Jason eyed her back, looked quickly at Mary Ellen who just shrugged, then decided to go ahead.  “I’m Jason, and this is Mary Ellen,” he said, “but you’re probably more interested in why we’re here than in who we are.”24

“Yes,” she replied, her eyes boring into his.25

“We were just curious about his place.  We probably shouldn’t have come here but we thought it was deserted – we were just going to look around.”26

“But, you came back.  Why would you come back if you were just idly curious?”27

“We wanted to find out more about the basement,” Mary Ellen chimed in.28

“Basement?” came the questioning reply.29

“Yes, the room with the circle and the altar and the pictures on the wall.”30

“Oh, that room.”  Again she looked from one to the other.  “I’m sorry you found that room,” she said looking away.31

“And you,” Jason broke in.  “May we ask who you are.”  Then, with a stroke of genius he added.  “You can rest assured that we won’t tell anyone about what we’ve seen here – ever,” he stated clearly and sharply.32

“Why should I trust you?”33

“You don’t have many other choices,” Mary Ellen said, matter-of-factly.34

“No, I suppose not.  This is my house – I’ve lived here for two years now – you’re the first to come and bother me.  I like it that way, alone and out of the way, totally unknown to everyone.”35

“So, you tried to scare us off.”36

“Yes,” she said, sounding sad and futile.  “But . . . “  Her voice trailed off.37

“You thought the laughing and tapping would scare us away?”  Mary Ellen questioned.38

The pretty face looked at first one and then the other.  “No,” she said.  “I grabbed you to scare you,” she replied pointing at Mary Ellen.  “But I don’t make the other noises.  I don’t know where they come from.”39

“What?” Jason exclaimed.40

“True,” she responded.  “They’ve always been here – I think they have something to do with that room too, but I haven’t found anything.”  Then, she turned to Mary Ellen, leaning her head toward her and squinting.  “Can you shine the light this way.”  Jason pointed the light where the lady indicated, at Mary Ellen.  When the beam struck her face the woman gasped and put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide in terror and disbelief.  “You’re her,” she said, her voice shaking.  “You’re Natalie,” she mumbled out as she fainted.41

THIS ENDS THE "RETURN TO WHITAKER STREET" SECTION OF THE STORY BUT NOT THE STORY.  THERE'S MORE TO COME.  I'LL BE GONE FOR A WEEK OR SO AND THERE WILL BE MORE THEN CALLED "THE ROOM ON WHITAKER STREET."  UNTIL THEN JASON AND MARY ELLEN WILL HAVE SOME QUIET TIME TOGETHER, THINKING ABOUT WHAT THEY'LL DO NEXT.  Paul42