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I stood too, confused as a stab of disappointment winged through me.
“Daniel!” he called, taking a few steps back toward the gate.
No answer came.
“Daniel!” he called out again, an edge of something a little more urgent in his voice.
We were met by silence, thick and heavy, all around us.
“Shit,” Michael said, and without speaking, we went in opposite directions, searching the masses of greenery around us for his son.
Gnomes in the Garden
Michael
In the long list of crap I’d screwed up in my life, even I realized that losing my son on the grounds of a dangerously run-down and potentially haunted house was going to be up there. Shelly would have a field day with this one—she was usually the less responsible parent, and she loved any opportunity to point out one of my failings.
“Daniel!” I called his name as I circled the house, wading through a decrepit rose garden, past a cellar door (locked) and across a weedy patio out back, where I ran into Addison again. Her wide eyes and worried expression told me she hadn’t found my son on her half of the search either.
“Daniel!” I shouted again, a twinge of desperation edging my voice. “Where the hell could he have gone?” I asked.
Addison shook her head, and we both turned back to face the house. The kitchen door stood ajar, as if beckoning to us, and without speaking, we went back inside. Had we come out that way? Did we leave it open? I hoped Daniel was inside, though there was plenty in the run-down house to worry about.
The house was like a different world. The second we crossed the threshold, the atmosphere around me took on a dampened feeling, rich with the whispers of memory and decaying things, dust and layers of time. It felt wrong to disturb it all by yelling inside the house, but I was increasingly worried about my son.
“Dan!” I called out, moving back to the bottom of the big staircase.
“Upstairs!” His voice came back, sending my heart galloping with relief, and Addison and I exchanged wide-eyed expressions before heading back up the stairs, sending little clouds of dust swirling at our feet.
On the second floor, I could hear creaking from the ceiling over the master bedroom, and I realized exactly where he’d gone. Telling Daniel no, or we’ll look later, had never been especially effective. He was an impulsive, live-for-the-moment kind of kid, and he usually found ways to get what he wanted. He was in the attic. Anger threatened, but it was shadowed by the relief I felt to hear Dan’s voice, to know he was okay. We’d need to chat about disobeying directions.
“Upstairs,” I shrugged, opening the closet door and eyeing the narrow stairs skeptically. “You coming?”
“Sure,” Addison said, sounding less than sure. I didn’t blame her. The whole house was creepy, but the narrow stairway-in-a-closet was creepy times ten.
“You go first,” I said, trying to be chivalrous.
She narrowed her eyes at me, as if maybe sending her up first was some kind of grand Tucker plan of mine, but after a second she seemed to realize I was just trying to be a gentleman.
Of course a true gentleman wouldn’t ogle her ass as she climbed the narrow risers just ahead of me. But it was impossible not to. She wore jeans that hugged her curves perfectly, and climbing stairs put it all right at eye level. Her ass was round and tight, swaying back and forth as she climbed, and I had to work pretty damned hard not to focus on the very inappropriate thoughts racing through my mind at the sight of it.
Once she’d reached the top and stepped out into the attic, I heard Daniel’s voice. “Look at this.”
A second later, I moved into the tight narrow space with them. The attic was a long wood-planked room with sloping ceilings and a lot of stuff sitting around in piles here and there. A bookcase stood at one end, stuffed with shoe boxes. A couple of trunks that looked like they might have been brought from another continent via ocean liner sat at the other end. In between there was an ancient sewing machine table and stool next to some kind of mannequin thing, a record player with the big horn part I’d never exactly understood or seen up close in real life, and a collection of garden pots scattered across the floor, some of them broken. There were scatters of dirt and leaves up here too, as if a window had been broken at some point, but they all appeared intact now. I sighed. This was one more part of the house that was going to need work.
Daniel crouched on the ground, holding something in his lap and rubbing it with one hand, pushing dirt from the surface. “Check it out, Dad.” He held up the object, and I realized it was a garden gnome, but it was pretty far from the cute kind with the little rosy cheeks and brightly colored coat. This one had an expression on its pointed face that could only be described as menacing, despite the smile. The little creature was hunched and its hands were crafted to appear as if they were rubbing one another. The thing looked like it was plotting, and it gave me a very creepy feeling.
“Uh, let’s just leave that where you found it.”
“No way, this is Thaddius,” Daniel said, holding the hideous thing up for us to see. “He’s coming home with me.”
I exchanged a look with Addison, whose nose was adorably wrinkled. A little stirring of warmth rushed through me at her expression, and I had to stomp it down. This—if it was anything—was a business arrangement at best, with someone I didn’t actually like much. No warm fluttery feelings just because she had a nice butt and a cute nose and seemed charmed by my kid.
“Thaddius?” Addison asked. “How do you know?”
“Just a feeling,” Daniel said, and I’ll be honest. That creeped me right the fuck out.
“Let’s get going,” I suggested, casting glances around the rapidly dimming space. “It’s getting dark.”
