Our house really is located on Ft. Wayne Street, had been abandoned and was in pretty poor shape when we purchased it. We really do have a 25' underground tunnel that leads from our basement to the alley behind our house. The rest of the story is entirely fictional and is not based on real people or true events.
LOVE (TO KILL) THY NEIGHBOR
Monday, 7:30 AM
The wall gave way, kicking up a cloud of dust. Stepping over the rubble into the previously hidden room, I played the beam of the flashlight from side to side. My heart beat wildly with anticipation.
I willed the dust to settle, hoping beyond hope to find the treasures hidden by Drew Harris prior to is death. Suddenly, the light from the flashlight glinted off an object in the far recess of the room.
Moving forward cautiously, I trained the light on the object which had captured my attention. The dust had settled sufficiently for me to identify the necklace which I had seen in the portrait of Lizzy Harris. Breathlessly I moved closer. As I reached for the necklace I was suddenly paralyzed by the realization the jewelry was hanging around the neck of a human skeleton.
A noise brought me back to the moment. I turned just in time to see the shovel blade seconds before it slammed into my head. Everything went dark.
A Few Months Before
The first time Richard, our real estate agent, brought Lisa and me to the house we both felt an ominous sense of dread. We shouldn’t have ignored the feeling.
The house on Ft. Wayne Street was large and had, what Lisa called, character. Others might have called it something entirely different. Having been abandoned for almost three years, it’s appearance reminded me of something from a cheesy horror show. The front porch was home to a tangled mess of ivy that snaked its way up the cement pillars, anchoring itself on the ceiling of the porch before falling like a curtain, obscuring the large picture windows on either side of the front door. Richard used his arm to brush aside the thick netting of spider webs that impeded our approach to the door.
As he gestured for us to follow him, a sudden movement caught my eye. I looked at the window of a second story room in the house across the street. Hiding behind a billowing white curtain stood an emaciated elderly woman. I could hear her hideous laughter above the sudden gust of wind that swirled around us.
Lisa and I were ready to turn back and head for the car, but the sky, which had been grey and foreboding, suddenly let loose with a torrent of rain, accompanied by flashes of lightning and peals of thunder. At that moment, this haunting edifice became our place of refuge. We dashed inside.
Due to the thunderstorm raging outside, little ambient light made its way into the house. For a few moments, we stood in the darkness of the immense living room. The intermittent flashes of lightning accentuated the eeriness we felt. I half expected our host to light a candelabra and attempt to lead us through the house by the light of a flickering flame. Instead, he toggled a switch on the wall and the room was immediately bathed in light. The sight took our breath away.
Cobwebs filled every corner of the room. Yellowed curtains hung limply over the windows. The carpet, worn and stained, added to the dilapidated appearance. At first glance, the inside looked as much a dump as the outside. However, Lisa and I were able to look past the dirt and other effects of neglect. We spied a marvelous crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room and a large fireplace with an ornate mantel adorning one wall. There was a spiral staircase leading to the second floor with a bannister of dark, rich wood hiding beneath a layer of dust. We were standing in the midst of masked beauty.
We followed Richard as he took us from room to room. The remainder of the house was also filthy from years of abandonment. But each room, like the living room we had first entered, contained its own hidden treasures.
It took over an hour to tour the entire house, including the large basement. With a dramatic flair, Richard had opened a door off the basement which led to a twenty-five foot long tunnel. “It travels under the yard and one of the outbuildings before opening onto the alley out back,” He explained.
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and we all agreed it was a good idea to make a break for the car while we could. Lisa and I ran ahead while Richard locked the house. “It’s kind of creepy, but…” Lisa cocked her head to the side, “I like it.”
That night, Lisa and I had a lengthy discussion about the house. Finally, we dismissed any lingering feelings of dread and agreed to make an offer.
We were surprised that, despite the fact our offer was several thousand dollars below the asking price, it was readily accepted. When we said something to Richard, he shrugged and mumbled something about a silly curse.
“What curse,” I asked?
“Oh, you know how stories gain momentum and develop a life of their own.” I could tell he didn’t want to say much for fear we might rescind our offer. Lisa and I prodded hi to continue. Reluctantly, he went on, “Drew Harris lived in that house for just over fifty years. During that time, he lost two wives and both of his children.”
My curiosity was piqued. “That sounds pretty rough, but how did people make the leap to blaming all that on a curse?”
“It started with his son William. He was drafted and sent to Vietnam. After two months he was captured, tortured and put to death.”
“A lot of young men died in Vietnam,” Lisa remarked. “Most families blame fate, not a curse.”
I could tell Richard regretted starting the story. He stammered for a moment before answering. “There were allegations something occurred at the house prior to his death. I’m not familiar with the details.” He picked up the legal papers scattered on the table before him and began to look as if he were examining them.
I could tell he wanted to move on to another subject but I wasn’t about to let him off that easy. “You said both of his children died. What happened to the other one?”
His shoulder slumped forward a bit as he gave in to relate the rest of his unpleasant story. “His daughter was killed in a car accident a couple of years after that around Christmas.”
“Losing both of your children through those kinds of circumstances would be hard for any parents to deal with.” By the look of empathy on her face, I could tell Lisa was thinking of our three grown sons.
“It took its toll on Drew and his wife.” Though he was outwardly reticent, I sensed Richard was inwardly enjoying his role as our guide to the secrets of the Harris house. “Rumor has it Liz was having an affair.” Lowering his voice, Richard whispered, “They say Drew found out and Liz mysteriously disappeared in the mid-seventies.”
“Did Drew kill her, “I asked? Enthralled, I wanted to hear all the gory details.
Catching our enthusiasm, Richard leaned toward Lisa and me and continued, “Police suspected him but they never found a body, a murder weapon, or anything else to suggest she had been murdered.”
My wife, who fancies herself an amateur sleuth, asked, “And just what did Drew have to say?”
“He maintained all along she had run off. He even reported some suitcases, along with some of her clothes, missing. People around here didn’t buy his story, though. Especially when, seven years later, Liz was officially pronounced dead and Drew immediately married his second wife, Margaret.
“What makes that so suspicious,” I asked? “Seven years seems like a reasonable amount of time to wait before remarrying.”
“I suppose,” Richard admitted, a sly smile began to appear at the corner of his mouth. “But then,” he added after a dramatic pause, “Margaret died of suspicious causes in the mid-nineties.”
Caught up in the unfolding drama, Lisa gasped. “He killed her, too?”
“Worse than that,” Richard retorted. They say he slowly poisoned her over the course of several months. Those who knew her those last few months swore she seemed to be going slowly mad.”
The story served to strengthen Lisa’s belief the house had character. I agreed. It just wasn’t the kind of character I was particularly fond of. Despite that, we signed the contract and the house, cursed or not, became ours.
About a month later, several of our new neighbors ventured out into their yards to watch as Lisa and emptied the rental truck carrying our possessions. When we waved, some returned our gesture with a halfhearted raise of the hand before turning and scurrying back to the safety of their own homes. Others, just turned away without acknowledging our attempts at friendliness. Their behavior didn’t seem to carry feelings of animosity as much as a sense of fright. I wondered if they were frightened the new neighbors would fall under the curse of the house and somehow, bring the curse to their doorsteps as well.
One elderly gentleman did stop by. He even brought a plate of homemade brownies. His name was Ed.
“Thank you for the treats, Ed. They are delicious,“ Lisa managed to mumble as she gobbled up her third brownie.
“My pleasure,” he said with a wink. “I’ve always tried to live by the Good Book’s teaching to “love thy neighbor.’”
Ed lived two doors down in a house Lisa and I had noticed because of its extraordinary flower garden and greenhouse. Ed told us he had known Drew Harris for years. Not only had they been friends, he said, he had also worked for him on several occasions, including digging the basement and doing the plaster work in several of the rooms of the house. He told us Mr. Harris had asked him to build several hidden closets in the house and asked if we had discovered any of them yet. I thought he looked visibly relieved when I told him no. Before leaving, he warned us to steer clear of the lady across the street.
“I can’t prove nothing,” he said, “but word has it that she and Drew had something sinister going on together. Some people around here believe she may have had something to do with the deaths of both of his wives.” Ed winked as he turned to leave. I shivered as a cold chill caressed my spine.
It was while searching for some out of the way places to store our seasonal belongings that Lisa and I discovered a couple of the hidden closets Ed had told us about. They were empty, but intriguing, nonetheless. Lisa and I joked that one day we would unexpectedly uncover the hidden closet containing Drew Harris’ riches. “Or the bodies he hid,” Lisa quipped.
It wasn’t long though, before I made my first exciting discovery. During a remodeling project, I exposed another hidden closet while tearing out a wall. Inside were a few suitcases filled with women’s clothing. Time and vermin had ruined them. I also found a wooden crate. It was about four feet high and three feet wide, but only eight inches deep. “FRAGILE” was emblazoned across the front in large red letters.
I hauled the crate into the dining room and opened it. Inside, wrapped for protection, was a painting. It was a portrait of a middle aged woman dressed in clothing from the 1970’s. As I examined the picture, I realized the subject had posed in the living room of this very house. She was seated before a magnificent fireplace and above her head hung the very chandelier which had dazzled Lisa and me during our first visit to this place. I didn’t recognize the painter’s signature, but the date was unmistakable – March 1974.
Lisa didn’t have a chance to catch her breath once she stepped through the door that evening after getting off work. I immediately grabbed her hand and dragged her into the dining room where the painting was propped up against one of the walls. Together, we gazed at the picture, taking in, not just the image of the woman, but the layout and décor of “our house” as it looked thirty years ago.
As we looked closely at the woman, Lisa noticed her necklace and earrings. A heart shaped pendant hung from a braided gold chain. The main part of the heart was comprised of a pear shaped diamond. The top of the heart was formed by two princess cut stones, one a bluish green, the other a fiery red. Her earrings were smaller versions of the pendant. Lisa was enthralled with the uniqueness and beauty of the woman’s jewelry.
The next day, Ed stopped by bearing another plate of brownies and some flowers from his garden and greenhouse. The brownies were delicious and the beauty of the flowers breathtaking. The bouquet included lilies, roses, purple foxglove and snapdragons. I showed him the painting. He reached out and tenderly caressed the face of the lady n the picture. “That’s Lizzy,” he said in a dreamy voice. “She was a beautiful woman.” By the way Ed stared at her portrait it was obvious he had been attracted to the former Mrs. Harris.
Remembering Lisa’s interest in the jewelry, I asked Ed if he knew anything about the necklace. At first, he didn’t seem to hear me as he continued to gaze at the image of Lizzy’s face. I asked him again.
“Oh, the necklace,” he said as he returned to the moment. “Lizzy bought it with the money her and Drew received from the insurance settlement.”
“Insurance settlement,” I asked?
“Yes, the insurance settlement following their daughter’s death. You knew they had a daughter, right? A son, too?”
I repeated what the realtor had told me about their untimely deaths. I could tell by the look on Ed’s face that my understanding of the events was less than satisfactory as far as he was concerned. Asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee, I managed to get Ed to take a seat in the living room. I took a brownie and offered one to him. Ed shook his head “no.” “Trying to cut back,” he said as he patted his stomach.
I asked him to tell me more about the Harris’. He began his story by telling me that Hazel, the elderly woman from across the street, used to live in a house just over a block away. Shortly after Drew and Lizzy moved into this house, Hazel came to visit. She flirted openly with Drew, so Lizzy demanded she leave.
“Lizzy swore Hazel had muttered some veiled threats at her as she left,” he half whispered as he leaned toward me.”
“But what does Hazel have to do with the Harris’ and the deaths of their children?” I asked.
Ed winked as he replied, “Ah, that’s the mystery now, isn’t it?” He took a sip of his coffee and paused for a moment before continuing. He went on by telling me that Lizzy became pregnant shortly after the Harris’ had moved into this house. “Drew appeared disappointed, rather than ecstatic as Lizzy had anticipated,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “She confided in some of her friends that she was afraid her marriage was on shaky ground. She suspected Drew was involved with another woman. But William’s birth proved to save their relationship and things improved between them for a short while. Then Drew answered the call to serve his country and went off to fight in Korea.”
I reached for another brownie as Ed took another sip of coffee. “When Drew returned, things appeared good between them and Lizzy became pregnant for the second time. Shortly after that, Drew had to leave town on a business trip. While he was gone, Lizzy was cleaning their bedroom and she discovered a shoe box full of letters. They were love letters Hazel had sent to Drew while he was overseas.”
I whistled. “I’ll bet that didn’t go over well.”
“Darn tootin’,” Ed chuckled. “Lizzy immediately marched over to Hazel’s house and confronted her. They got into an all-out brawl right there in Hazel’s front yard. The neighbors had to pry them apart and one told the police later on she heard Hazel cursing Lizzy and her children.”
“A few days later, when Drew returned from his trip, he scolded Lizzy for being so nosy. He even rebuked her for being rude to Hazel. Well, divorce was never an option, but Lizzy knew then and there her marriage to Drew was a sham. She stayed with him for the benefit of the children, but any feelings of love she had ever possessed for him were long gone.”
Ed went on. “It was pretty common knowledge that Ed had several affairs, including an ‘on again, off again’ affair with Hazel. Lizzy was more discreet. Neighbors always suspected she had a lover on the side but no one could say they knew for sure.” He paused for moment, as if trying to compose himself. When he found his voice again he continued, “Then, William went off to Vietnam. A month after his deployment, Lizzy came home to find Hazel in bed with Drew. She went berserk and attacked Hazel with a kitchen knife. She managed to slice Hazel’s arm before the police arrived and got things under control. As the police escorted Hazel to the ambulance that was going to take her to the hospital, she yelled back to Lizzy on the front porch. She told her terrible things were going to happen to her baby boy in the army. A few weeks later, Drew and Lizzy received word that William had been taken prisoner and killed.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “That’s a lot of drama for a town this size. Why wasn’t anybody ever arrested?”
“Neither Lizzy nor Hazel would press charges so there wasn’t much the police could do.”
“So it was quite a coincidence that William was killed shortly after Hazel made that remark, huh?” I asked.
Ed stared down into his now almost empty coffee cup before answering. “Coincidence? Hazel didn’t just say William would die, she said terrible things would happen to him. It wasn’t too long after being told about his death that Lizzy learned William had been captured and tortured for several days before being executed by the Viet Cong.
“So Drew and Lizzy believed Hazel was somehow responsible for what happened to their son?” The quizzical look on my face told Ed I was skeptical.
Not answering me directly, he went on to tell me how William’s death was a blow to both Drew and Lizzy. They both wrapped themselves in their grief and shut out the rest of the world, he explained. “But, a couple of years later, Hazel tried to reignite the flame with Drew but he rebuffed her,” he said. “One night shortly before Christmas, an obviously intoxicated Hazel appeared on the front lawn of Drew and Lizzy’s house. She damned them both and swore they would regret Drew’s decision not to see her again.”
“A few days after Christmas, their daughter, who was a senior in high school, was killed when she was hit by a car.”
I nodded. “I’d been told she was killed in a car accident.”
Ed shook his head as the memory of Karen, The Harris’ daughter, and the details surrounding her death came back to him. “Karen and a couple of her friends had gone to a party. The weather turned nasty and on the way home, they slid on a patch of ice and ran off the road. The girls climbed out of the car and made their way back to road. Karen was trying to flag down a car as it went by but it hit the same patch of ice and the driver lost control of the car. The car hit Karen, killing her instantly.”
“That’s terrible,” I said as I shook my head in disbelief.
“It gets worse,” Ed lamented. “The driver of the car that hit Karen – it was Hazel.”
I stared at Ed. That was just too bizarre. “Was it on purpose?”
Taking the last gulp from his coffee cup, Ed sat it down before continuing with his story. He told me there was an investigation. Drew and Lizzy accused Hazel of murdering their daughter but the police ruled her death an accident. The Harris’ took Hazel and her insurance company to court but the insurance company settled for an undisclosed amount.
“Lizzy took a big portion of that settlement money and splurged, buying something just for herself. She had that pendant made,” he pointed to the necklace in the portrait, “to help her stay connected to her children. The diamond represented her, and those two stones making the top of the heart are the birthstones for William and Karen. For the rest of her life, you hardly ever saw her without that necklace and those earrings.”
“That’s too bad,” I remarked. “She spends all that money on something that ended up going to a relative she probably hardly knew.”
Ed shook his head. “No. Truth is nobody knows where that jewelry is. Hasn’t been since her disappearance in the mid 70’s. The insurance company put out a reward but none of the pieces have surfaced, even though it’s been thirty years since they vanished.”
The clock in the living room chimed. Ed looked at his watch then said he had to get going. Reluctantly, I showed him to the door. There was more to this story, I was certain.
That night, I told Lisa the story Ed had shared with e earlier. We sat in the living room, gazing at the picture, finishing off the plate of brownies Ed had so graciously provided. “It’s no wonder the woman went crazy and took off,” Lisa remarked.
The next day Lisa stayed home from work. She wasn’t feeling well and spent most of the morning in the bathroom. I wasn’t feeling all that great myself but I was able to continue my work on the dining room project.
When she wasn’t in the bathroom, Lisa worked on some projects in her craft room upstairs. The craft room was in front of the house and had a large window looking out over the yard and Ft. Wayne Street.
I took a break just before lunch and went upstairs to check on her. She was staring out the window at the house across the street. “What are looking at?” I asked.
“I swear that old lady across the street is spying on us,” Lisa answered. “Almost every time I’ve glanced over there, she’s been standing in her window looking over here. I think I even saw her using a pair of binoculars.”
I put my hands on Lisa’s shoulders and began to massage her neck. Jokingly I quipped, “Honey, if Hazel comes over here and tries to put the moves on me, you don’t have a thing to worry about. Drew may have seen something attractive in her that caused him to stray but all I see is a crazed old woman. She’s just not my type.”
Instead of laughing, Lisa snapped her head around and gave me a withering look. I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender. She went back to stringing beads on the necklace she was making. I looked at the back of her head for a moment, puzzled by her strange behavior.
Ed proved to be a good neighbor. He came over almost every day to tell us tales about our house and the previous owners. He hardly ever came over empty handed. He stopped bringing plates full of brownies, but he always seemed to bring over a couple for Lisa and me to enjoy. Lisa accused him of trying to fatten us for the winter.
He also volunteered to help with my remodeling projects. When I wanted to put a family room in the basement, he aggressively suggested fixing the wall of the main staircase instead. The wall was in such terrible shape we had to tear out all the lath and plaster and start over. I hoped we would discover more hidden places but, to my dismay there were none. We left the front door open while we tore out the plaster. It made our working conditions a bit more tolerable. That was, until Hazel walked in.
I was in the upstairs bedroom when she first came in. I must have caught the bug Lisa with which had been contending. Though I was able to work with Ed on the wall, I had to take frequent breaks. I hadn’t been eating much the past few days, yet I was fighting a severe case of the dry heaves. Ed, knowing I was felling top notch, had been kind enough to bring over a thermos of hot tea. “Best medicine for an upset stomach,” he said as he offered me a cup with steam curling out of it. “It’s a special recipe.” He winked as I had taken my first sip.
When I came out of the bathroom, I heard Ed exchanging harsh words with Hazel. “Get out of here! Go on home,” I heard Ed demand.
“But I want to see him, Ed,” I heard Hazel plead. “I haven’t talked to him in such a long time.” She whimpered like a small child.
As I turned the corner coming down the staircase, I saw Ed giving Hazel a tender hug, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her. He quickly pushed away when he spotted me. Hazel saw me, too. Her eyes gleamed and she gave me a toothless smile. “Oh Drew,” she cooed. “You look as handsome as ever.”
I shot Ed a questioning look. With an obvious look of embarrassment, he shrugged his shoulders before gently taking hold of Hazel’s arm and turning to lead her to the door. “I’ll just help her back across the street,” he said over his shoulder. Hazel mumbled something to him as they made their way to the front door.
As they were leaving, Hazel stopped and looked back to where I was still standing halfway down the stairs. “See you again, Drew,” she said. Then she gave me a familiar looking wink before turning and stepping out of the house.
I was feeling dizzy so I sat down on the stairs. A cold perspiration erupted on my forehead. I thought I might have to make another made dash to the bathroom but the wave of nausea soon passed.
Ed returned in just a few minutes. He closed the front door behind himself when he entered. Seeing me sitting on the stairs, he apologized for allowing Hazel to sneak in on him.”
“She called me ‘Drew’.”
“Yeah,” Ed said as he resumed applying plaster to the wall. “She gets confused pretty often these days.”
“She sure seemed comfortable around you,” I remarked. “Are the two of you close?”
Ed was smoothing out a section of the plaster when I asked the question. His arm stopped but he didn’t look at me or answer right away. “Just neighbors,” he finally muttered. “I’ve got to go downstairs and get some more plaster,” he said as he picked up the bucket and made his way to the basement. I couldn’t help but notice the bucket was still more than half full.
The rest of the afternoon passed without interruption. That is, if you don’t count my numerous trips to the bathroom. I seemed to be feeling worse as the day progressed. I finished off the tea Ed had brought, though I wasn’t able to keep it down for long.
We were just cleaning up when Lisa arrived home from work. She looked exhausted as she came through the front door. I walked over and started to give her a kiss, like every other night. Instead of kissing me back, she turned her face, allowing me to only kiss her on the cheek.
I proudly showed her the wall of the staircase. It was one of the projects she had wanted to see completed as soon as possible. I knew she would be happy to see our progress. But when she looked at it, she simply shrugged, then trudged up the stairs to the bedroom to change.
Ed saw the look of disappointment on my face. He clapped his hand down on my shoulder. “Don’t fret about it,” he said in an attempt to encourage me. “She’s probably still feeling under the weather. How ‘bout I go home and make another pot of my tea for the two of you. I’m sure that will make you both feel much better.”
I protested, but he insisted. Too weak and tired to argue, I sat down on the couch in the living room and waited for his return.
That night we had a torrential rain. Not hungry, and both us feeling exhausted, Lisa and I went to bed early. I lay under the covers listening as the rain buffeted the windows for almost an hour before dozing off.
In the morning, Lisa was so weak she could hardly get out of bed. I talked her into taking a sick day. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her so depressed. She climbed back under the covers, pulled them tightly around her, and drifted back to sleep.
I felt pretty weak myself. When I tried to get out of bed a severe attack of dizziness came over me and I had to steady myself against the wall. I was getting ready to get back in bed when I remembered it was garbage day. I shuffled off to the basement and started to drag the garbage can through the tunnel to the door leading to the alley. I stopped short when I saw water standing over an inch deep in the tunnel.
Looking for the source, I spotted the place where the water was spurting through a hole close to the floor. I put on some boots and walked over to investigate.
The wall on this side of the tunnel was covered with plaster. I was surprised to find the area of the leak was comprised of bricks, unlike the majority of the basement and tunnel which had been constructed from cinder blocks. The water was running through a hole where the mortar had given way. I poked at the mortar with my finger. More fell away, enlarging the hole. I tested the brick. It was loose and soon came out as I worked it back and forth.
When I removed the brick, the water standing behind it gushed into the tunnel. Judging by the amount of water, I surmised there had to be a large cavity of some sort on the other side of the wall. I started working on the adjacent bricks, loosening and removing them. After removing a half dozen or so, I had created a large enough opening to peer into the cavity. It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything.
Getting a flashlight, I looked again. I detected a sizable room filled with several objects I couldn’t identify in the limited light.
With my curiosity piqued, I forgot my feelings of sickness. Retrieving a sledgehammer and shovel from the basement I started to break through the wall, intent on discovering what was in the room on the other side.
Monday, 7:53 AM
When I came to, I was lying on my side, my face against the cool damp floor. I opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin as I focused on a pair or skeletal feet just inches in front of me. I started to sit up, the pain in my head slowing down my progress. I placed my hand on the floor to steady myself and brushed up against something warm. Despite the little light available in the room, I recognized the prone figure of my wife, still wrapped in blankets, lying next to me.
I looked up at the opening to the room. The sight caused me to remember how I had broken through the wall from the tunnel. Now, however, instead of the large gaping hole I had created with the sledgehammer, freshly laid brick covered most of the opening.
I tried to stand. As I did, I heard a shuffling sound in the tunnel. Suddenly, Ed’s torso filled the opening in the wall.
“I see you finally woke up,” he said.
“Ed, what’s going on?” I still wasn’t able to think too clearly as a result of the blow I had recently received.
“I tried to keep from working down here, “Ed croaked. “Don’t say I didn’t, ‘cause I did.” He shook his head sadly as he smoothed out some more mortar and put another brick into place. “This house has a got a lot of secrets that nobody should know about. Now, I guess there’ll be two more.”
The pain in my head was excruciating. It drained me of what little strength the lack of food and the nausea had left. I closed my eyes and shook my head in hopes of clearing my mind. Better yet, I hoped it would cause me to wake from this horrible nightmare. But when I opened my eyes, Ed was still there, adding another brick to the quickly disappearing portal to the rest of the house.
“It started with Lizzy, you know.” Ed continued to work as he spoke. “I wanted her to leave Drew and marry me. We’d been lovers for years. Instead, she decided to pack her things and move south. I couldn’t let her do that. I used my purple foxglove to make a powerful potion. She had a heart attack while Drew was gone to work.”
I had enough wits about me to know that if I had any hope of escape I need to keep Ed talking. “She probably deserved it for leading you on.”
“Yeah, I suppose she did.” He stopped working and cocked his head to the side as he reflected on his actions. “Thing is,” he pointed the trowel at me through the ever diminishing hole, “Drew was supposed to take the fall for it. He’d hurt Hazel too many times for me to just go on ignoring his cruelty.”
“Hazel? What’s Hazel have to do with anything?”
“I told you she and Drew were having an affair. She really loved him and he pretended to love her. He even told her he was going to leave Lizzy and take her as his wife.” He shook his head and scowled. “Instead, he just kept on using her. A brother can only stand by and watch that for for so long before he’s got to do something about it.”
“Hazel is your sister?” I inched closer to the wall as Ed talked. I was so weak but I knew I had to force myself to take some kind of action.
Ed smoothed out some more mortar and laid another brick in place. “Not many people know that.” He chuckled before adding, “So don’t you go telling anybody. Hear?”
There wasn’t much light making its way into the room now. The hole was getting smaller and Ed’s frame covered most of it, effectively blocking the light. I quietly felt along the floor for something I could use as a weapon. All I could feel was damp earth.
“I hadn’t really planned on killing Margaret but it hurt Hazel so much for Drew to take up with another woman like he did. So I decided to hurt Drew more by making his marriage to Margaret as miserable as I could. I discovered giving small doses of my potion caused some interesting results. For Margaret, small doses sent her into a deep depression. Most days, she wouldn’t even get out of bed. She didn’t even care enough to bathe herself. There wasn’t much romance between them, I can tell you that.”
“How did you get her to take your ‘potion?’” I asked. I continued to creep closer to the Ed and the opening.
“I dry the leaves and seeds of the purple foxglove then grind them up. Then I’ll put them in things like brownies, or herbal tea.” Ed smiled and winked as he saw the look of understanding dawning on my face. “Yep. You and the Missus has been on the potion ever since you first moved in.”
“Why, Ed?”
“I knew from the day I first set eyes on you that you was the questioning type.” I watched as another brick was put in place. The hole was only large enough now for me to see Ed’s head and the upper part of his shoulders. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you went a discovered something that would raise suspicions.” He applied more mortar followed by another brick. “It’s a good thing for me I decided to drop by this morning when I did. Would have been bad if you’d gone and called the police and showed ‘em what you’d found in there.”
“Ed, listen to me,” I began to plead. “I don’t have to tell anybody anything. Let us out and I’ll help you close up this wall and I’ll pretend I never saw a thing.”
“Drew? Is that you?” I heard Hazel’s voice out in the tunnel.
Ed’s face disappeared from in front of the hole and I heard him talking to Hazel. “Hazel, you go on back home now. There’s nothing here for you to see.”
“But I thought I heard Drew,” she whined. I could tell she was getting closer to the hole in the wall.
“Hazel!” I shouted. It’s Drew! I’m in here. Ed is trying to keep us apart by burying me alive.” I hoped she would be delusional enough that I might fool her into intervening.
Suddenly, Hazel’s face filled the hole and peered in. She didn’t have a flashlight and her head blocked the light from the tunnel, making it impossible for her to actually see my face. “Hazel, sweetheart, you’ve got to talk Ed into letting me go so you and I can be together.”
I could see Ed’s hands on Hazel’s shoulders, prying her away from the hole. He spoke gently to her, easing her farther away. Suddenly, she started screaming and I could hear them scuffling in the tunnel. Knowing that Ed was now preoccupied with Hazel, I made my move. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I threw myself against the wall Ed had been building. The bricks hardly gave at all and the impact drove the wind out of me and caused my shoulder to throb with pain. The scuffling continued outside. Gasping for breath, I took a couple of steps back into the room and charged the wall a second time, throwing my entire weight into the effort. This time, it collapsed and I went sprawling on top of the bricks in the tunnel.
I watched as Ed pushed Hazel to the floor. He turned, glaring at me with murderous anger etched on his face. The weakness from being ill, combined with the excruciating pain ebbing through my body immobilized me. Ed reached for the sledgehammer leaning against the tunnel wall. I knew I had only seconds to move before he would bring it crashing into my skull. I tried to push myself up but my arms refused to cooperate.
Ed slowing started to walk my way, raising the sledgehammer at the same time. He didn’t see Hazel get up from the floor. I could tell she knew what Ed was about to do. I was surprised by how quickly she moved. She grabbed the shovel and without so much as a moment’s hesitation, slammed it into the back of Ed’s head. Ed immediately dropped the sledgehammer then dropped like a sack of potatoes, right on top of me, pinning me to the pile of bricks. Hazel used the shovel to hit Ed several more times before she collapsed in a heap beside us. She looked back and forth between Ed and me several times before breaking down into tears. I blacked out from the pain and exhaustion.
When I came to, the first thing I noticed was the pain. Second was the darkness. I was lying on something which was digging into my ribs. I tried to move, but there was something else heavy on top of me. I heard a noise behind me so I called out.
“Is that you, Drew?” I heard Hazel ask. Suddenly a light illuminated my surroundings. I was back in the hidden room off the tunnel. I was lying on top of Lisa, her knees jammed into my ribcage. An arm was draped over my shoulder. I recognized the little part of the shirt I could see as belonging to Ed. Then the light went out.
“Hazel, what are you doing? Aren’t you going to let me out?”
“No, Drew. I’m not going to let you out. You keep hurting me, Drew. Why do you do that? All these new women you keep bringing to this house – it’s got to stop.” I heard a sound which I had learned to recognize only this morning. It was the sound of mortar being smoothed out followed by a brick being laid in place.
“Hazel, you’ve got to listen to me. I’m not Drew. I’m your new neighbor. Drew has been dead for a few years now.”
“I know,” Hazel said in a sing song voice. “Ed killed him, just like he killed the women.”
“Then you know you have to let me go,” I pleaded.
“No. I can’t do that,” she said. “You have to die like all the rest.”
“Why, Hazel?” I shouted. “Why do I have to die?”
I heard another brick going into place, but this one sounded different from the others. Looking around best I could, I realized I was now surrounded by absolute darkness. I had heard the last brick being put into place. “Hazel!” I screamed.
“It’s okay, Drew,” I heard her muffled voice through the wall. “Everyone will just say it’s the curse.” The sound of her hideous laughter echoed in the tunnel, only to be drowned out by my own horrified scream of terror.
Monday, 7:30 AM
The wall gave way, kicking up a cloud of dust. Stepping over the rubble into the previously hidden room, I played the beam of the flashlight from side to side. My heart beat wildly with anticipation.
I willed the dust to settle, hoping beyond hope to find the treasures hidden by Drew Harris prior to is death. Suddenly, the light from the flashlight glinted off an object in the far recess of the room.
Moving forward cautiously, I trained the light on the object which had captured my attention. The dust had settled sufficiently for me to identify the necklace which I had seen in the portrait of Lizzy Harris. Breathlessly I moved closer. As I reached for the necklace I was suddenly paralyzed by the realization the jewelry was hanging around the neck of a human skeleton.
A noise brought me back to the moment. I turned just in time to see the shovel blade seconds before it slammed into my head. Everything went dark.
A Few Months Before
The first time Richard, our real estate agent, brought Lisa and me to the house we both felt an ominous sense of dread. We shouldn’t have ignored the feeling.
The house on Ft. Wayne Street was large and had, what Lisa called, character. Others might have called it something entirely different. Having been abandoned for almost three years, it’s appearance reminded me of something from a cheesy horror show. The front porch was home to a tangled mess of ivy that snaked its way up the cement pillars, anchoring itself on the ceiling of the porch before falling like a curtain, obscuring the large picture windows on either side of the front door. Richard used his arm to brush aside the thick netting of spider webs that impeded our approach to the door.
As he gestured for us to follow him, a sudden movement caught my eye. I looked at the window of a second story room in the house across the street. Hiding behind a billowing white curtain stood an emaciated elderly woman. I could hear her hideous laughter above the sudden gust of wind that swirled around us.
Lisa and I were ready to turn back and head for the car, but the sky, which had been grey and foreboding, suddenly let loose with a torrent of rain, accompanied by flashes of lightning and peals of thunder. At that moment, this haunting edifice became our place of refuge. We dashed inside.
Due to the thunderstorm raging outside, little ambient light made its way into the house. For a few moments, we stood in the darkness of the immense living room. The intermittent flashes of lightning accentuated the eeriness we felt. I half expected our host to light a candelabra and attempt to lead us through the house by the light of a flickering flame. Instead, he toggled a switch on the wall and the room was immediately bathed in light. The sight took our breath away.
Cobwebs filled every corner of the room. Yellowed curtains hung limply over the windows. The carpet, worn and stained, added to the dilapidated appearance. At first glance, the inside looked as much a dump as the outside. However, Lisa and I were able to look past the dirt and other effects of neglect. We spied a marvelous crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room and a large fireplace with an ornate mantel adorning one wall. There was a spiral staircase leading to the second floor with a bannister of dark, rich wood hiding beneath a layer of dust. We were standing in the midst of masked beauty.
We followed Richard as he took us from room to room. The remainder of the house was also filthy from years of abandonment. But each room, like the living room we had first entered, contained its own hidden treasures.
It took over an hour to tour the entire house, including the large basement. With a dramatic flair, Richard had opened a door off the basement which led to a twenty-five foot long tunnel. “It travels under the yard and one of the outbuildings before opening onto the alley out back,” He explained.
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and we all agreed it was a good idea to make a break for the car while we could. Lisa and I ran ahead while Richard locked the house. “It’s kind of creepy, but…” Lisa cocked her head to the side, “I like it.”
That night, Lisa and I had a lengthy discussion about the house. Finally, we dismissed any lingering feelings of dread and agreed to make an offer.
We were surprised that, despite the fact our offer was several thousand dollars below the asking price, it was readily accepted. When we said something to Richard, he shrugged and mumbled something about a silly curse.
“What curse,” I asked?
“Oh, you know how stories gain momentum and develop a life of their own.” I could tell he didn’t want to say much for fear we might rescind our offer. Lisa and I prodded hi to continue. Reluctantly, he went on, “Drew Harris lived in that house for just over fifty years. During that time, he lost two wives and both of his children.”
My curiosity was piqued. “That sounds pretty rough, but how did people make the leap to blaming all that on a curse?”
“It started with his son William. He was drafted and sent to Vietnam. After two months he was captured, tortured and put to death.”
“A lot of young men died in Vietnam,” Lisa remarked. “Most families blame fate, not a curse.”
I could tell Richard regretted starting the story. He stammered for a moment before answering. “There were allegations something occurred at the house prior to his death. I’m not familiar with the details.” He picked up the legal papers scattered on the table before him and began to look as if he were examining them.
I could tell he wanted to move on to another subject but I wasn’t about to let him off that easy. “You said both of his children died. What happened to the other one?”
His shoulder slumped forward a bit as he gave in to relate the rest of his unpleasant story. “His daughter was killed in a car accident a couple of years after that around Christmas.”
“Losing both of your children through those kinds of circumstances would be hard for any parents to deal with.” By the look of empathy on her face, I could tell Lisa was thinking of our three grown sons.
“It took its toll on Drew and his wife.” Though he was outwardly reticent, I sensed Richard was inwardly enjoying his role as our guide to the secrets of the Harris house. “Rumor has it Liz was having an affair.” Lowering his voice, Richard whispered, “They say Drew found out and Liz mysteriously disappeared in the mid-seventies.”
“Did Drew kill her, “I asked? Enthralled, I wanted to hear all the gory details.
Catching our enthusiasm, Richard leaned toward Lisa and me and continued, “Police suspected him but they never found a body, a murder weapon, or anything else to suggest she had been murdered.”
My wife, who fancies herself an amateur sleuth, asked, “And just what did Drew have to say?”
“He maintained all along she had run off. He even reported some suitcases, along with some of her clothes, missing. People around here didn’t buy his story, though. Especially when, seven years later, Liz was officially pronounced dead and Drew immediately married his second wife, Margaret.
“What makes that so suspicious,” I asked? “Seven years seems like a reasonable amount of time to wait before remarrying.”
“I suppose,” Richard admitted, a sly smile began to appear at the corner of his mouth. “But then,” he added after a dramatic pause, “Margaret died of suspicious causes in the mid-nineties.”
Caught up in the unfolding drama, Lisa gasped. “He killed her, too?”
“Worse than that,” Richard retorted. They say he slowly poisoned her over the course of several months. Those who knew her those last few months swore she seemed to be going slowly mad.”
The story served to strengthen Lisa’s belief the house had character. I agreed. It just wasn’t the kind of character I was particularly fond of. Despite that, we signed the contract and the house, cursed or not, became ours.
About a month later, several of our new neighbors ventured out into their yards to watch as Lisa and emptied the rental truck carrying our possessions. When we waved, some returned our gesture with a halfhearted raise of the hand before turning and scurrying back to the safety of their own homes. Others, just turned away without acknowledging our attempts at friendliness. Their behavior didn’t seem to carry feelings of animosity as much as a sense of fright. I wondered if they were frightened the new neighbors would fall under the curse of the house and somehow, bring the curse to their doorsteps as well.
One elderly gentleman did stop by. He even brought a plate of homemade brownies. His name was Ed.
“Thank you for the treats, Ed. They are delicious,“ Lisa managed to mumble as she gobbled up her third brownie.
“My pleasure,” he said with a wink. “I’ve always tried to live by the Good Book’s teaching to “love thy neighbor.’”
Ed lived two doors down in a house Lisa and I had noticed because of its extraordinary flower garden and greenhouse. Ed told us he had known Drew Harris for years. Not only had they been friends, he said, he had also worked for him on several occasions, including digging the basement and doing the plaster work in several of the rooms of the house. He told us Mr. Harris had asked him to build several hidden closets in the house and asked if we had discovered any of them yet. I thought he looked visibly relieved when I told him no. Before leaving, he warned us to steer clear of the lady across the street.
“I can’t prove nothing,” he said, “but word has it that she and Drew had something sinister going on together. Some people around here believe she may have had something to do with the deaths of both of his wives.” Ed winked as he turned to leave. I shivered as a cold chill caressed my spine.
It was while searching for some out of the way places to store our seasonal belongings that Lisa and I discovered a couple of the hidden closets Ed had told us about. They were empty, but intriguing, nonetheless. Lisa and I joked that one day we would unexpectedly uncover the hidden closet containing Drew Harris’ riches. “Or the bodies he hid,” Lisa quipped.
It wasn’t long though, before I made my first exciting discovery. During a remodeling project, I exposed another hidden closet while tearing out a wall. Inside were a few suitcases filled with women’s clothing. Time and vermin had ruined them. I also found a wooden crate. It was about four feet high and three feet wide, but only eight inches deep. “FRAGILE” was emblazoned across the front in large red letters.
I hauled the crate into the dining room and opened it. Inside, wrapped for protection, was a painting. It was a portrait of a middle aged woman dressed in clothing from the 1970’s. As I examined the picture, I realized the subject had posed in the living room of this very house. She was seated before a magnificent fireplace and above her head hung the very chandelier which had dazzled Lisa and me during our first visit to this place. I didn’t recognize the painter’s signature, but the date was unmistakable – March 1974.
Lisa didn’t have a chance to catch her breath once she stepped through the door that evening after getting off work. I immediately grabbed her hand and dragged her into the dining room where the painting was propped up against one of the walls. Together, we gazed at the picture, taking in, not just the image of the woman, but the layout and décor of “our house” as it looked thirty years ago.
As we looked closely at the woman, Lisa noticed her necklace and earrings. A heart shaped pendant hung from a braided gold chain. The main part of the heart was comprised of a pear shaped diamond. The top of the heart was formed by two princess cut stones, one a bluish green, the other a fiery red. Her earrings were smaller versions of the pendant. Lisa was enthralled with the uniqueness and beauty of the woman’s jewelry.
The next day, Ed stopped by bearing another plate of brownies and some flowers from his garden and greenhouse. The brownies were delicious and the beauty of the flowers breathtaking. The bouquet included lilies, roses, purple foxglove and snapdragons. I showed him the painting. He reached out and tenderly caressed the face of the lady n the picture. “That’s Lizzy,” he said in a dreamy voice. “She was a beautiful woman.” By the way Ed stared at her portrait it was obvious he had been attracted to the former Mrs. Harris.
Remembering Lisa’s interest in the jewelry, I asked Ed if he knew anything about the necklace. At first, he didn’t seem to hear me as he continued to gaze at the image of Lizzy’s face. I asked him again.
“Oh, the necklace,” he said as he returned to the moment. “Lizzy bought it with the money her and Drew received from the insurance settlement.”
“Insurance settlement,” I asked?
“Yes, the insurance settlement following their daughter’s death. You knew they had a daughter, right? A son, too?”
I repeated what the realtor had told me about their untimely deaths. I could tell by the look on Ed’s face that my understanding of the events was less than satisfactory as far as he was concerned. Asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee, I managed to get Ed to take a seat in the living room. I took a brownie and offered one to him. Ed shook his head “no.” “Trying to cut back,” he said as he patted his stomach.
I asked him to tell me more about the Harris’. He began his story by telling me that Hazel, the elderly woman from across the street, used to live in a house just over a block away. Shortly after Drew and Lizzy moved into this house, Hazel came to visit. She flirted openly with Drew, so Lizzy demanded she leave.
“Lizzy swore Hazel had muttered some veiled threats at her as she left,” he half whispered as he leaned toward me.”
“But what does Hazel have to do with the Harris’ and the deaths of their children?” I asked.
Ed winked as he replied, “Ah, that’s the mystery now, isn’t it?” He took a sip of his coffee and paused for a moment before continuing. He went on by telling me that Lizzy became pregnant shortly after the Harris’ had moved into this house. “Drew appeared disappointed, rather than ecstatic as Lizzy had anticipated,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “She confided in some of her friends that she was afraid her marriage was on shaky ground. She suspected Drew was involved with another woman. But William’s birth proved to save their relationship and things improved between them for a short while. Then Drew answered the call to serve his country and went off to fight in Korea.”
I reached for another brownie as Ed took another sip of coffee. “When Drew returned, things appeared good between them and Lizzy became pregnant for the second time. Shortly after that, Drew had to leave town on a business trip. While he was gone, Lizzy was cleaning their bedroom and she discovered a shoe box full of letters. They were love letters Hazel had sent to Drew while he was overseas.”
I whistled. “I’ll bet that didn’t go over well.”
“Darn tootin’,” Ed chuckled. “Lizzy immediately marched over to Hazel’s house and confronted her. They got into an all-out brawl right there in Hazel’s front yard. The neighbors had to pry them apart and one told the police later on she heard Hazel cursing Lizzy and her children.”
“A few days later, when Drew returned from his trip, he scolded Lizzy for being so nosy. He even rebuked her for being rude to Hazel. Well, divorce was never an option, but Lizzy knew then and there her marriage to Drew was a sham. She stayed with him for the benefit of the children, but any feelings of love she had ever possessed for him were long gone.”
Ed went on. “It was pretty common knowledge that Ed had several affairs, including an ‘on again, off again’ affair with Hazel. Lizzy was more discreet. Neighbors always suspected she had a lover on the side but no one could say they knew for sure.” He paused for moment, as if trying to compose himself. When he found his voice again he continued, “Then, William went off to Vietnam. A month after his deployment, Lizzy came home to find Hazel in bed with Drew. She went berserk and attacked Hazel with a kitchen knife. She managed to slice Hazel’s arm before the police arrived and got things under control. As the police escorted Hazel to the ambulance that was going to take her to the hospital, she yelled back to Lizzy on the front porch. She told her terrible things were going to happen to her baby boy in the army. A few weeks later, Drew and Lizzy received word that William had been taken prisoner and killed.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “That’s a lot of drama for a town this size. Why wasn’t anybody ever arrested?”
“Neither Lizzy nor Hazel would press charges so there wasn’t much the police could do.”
“So it was quite a coincidence that William was killed shortly after Hazel made that remark, huh?” I asked.
Ed stared down into his now almost empty coffee cup before answering. “Coincidence? Hazel didn’t just say William would die, she said terrible things would happen to him. It wasn’t too long after being told about his death that Lizzy learned William had been captured and tortured for several days before being executed by the Viet Cong.
“So Drew and Lizzy believed Hazel was somehow responsible for what happened to their son?” The quizzical look on my face told Ed I was skeptical.
Not answering me directly, he went on to tell me how William’s death was a blow to both Drew and Lizzy. They both wrapped themselves in their grief and shut out the rest of the world, he explained. “But, a couple of years later, Hazel tried to reignite the flame with Drew but he rebuffed her,” he said. “One night shortly before Christmas, an obviously intoxicated Hazel appeared on the front lawn of Drew and Lizzy’s house. She damned them both and swore they would regret Drew’s decision not to see her again.”
“A few days after Christmas, their daughter, who was a senior in high school, was killed when she was hit by a car.”
I nodded. “I’d been told she was killed in a car accident.”
Ed shook his head as the memory of Karen, The Harris’ daughter, and the details surrounding her death came back to him. “Karen and a couple of her friends had gone to a party. The weather turned nasty and on the way home, they slid on a patch of ice and ran off the road. The girls climbed out of the car and made their way back to road. Karen was trying to flag down a car as it went by but it hit the same patch of ice and the driver lost control of the car. The car hit Karen, killing her instantly.”
“That’s terrible,” I said as I shook my head in disbelief.
“It gets worse,” Ed lamented. “The driver of the car that hit Karen – it was Hazel.”
I stared at Ed. That was just too bizarre. “Was it on purpose?”
Taking the last gulp from his coffee cup, Ed sat it down before continuing with his story. He told me there was an investigation. Drew and Lizzy accused Hazel of murdering their daughter but the police ruled her death an accident. The Harris’ took Hazel and her insurance company to court but the insurance company settled for an undisclosed amount.
“Lizzy took a big portion of that settlement money and splurged, buying something just for herself. She had that pendant made,” he pointed to the necklace in the portrait, “to help her stay connected to her children. The diamond represented her, and those two stones making the top of the heart are the birthstones for William and Karen. For the rest of her life, you hardly ever saw her without that necklace and those earrings.”
“That’s too bad,” I remarked. “She spends all that money on something that ended up going to a relative she probably hardly knew.”
Ed shook his head. “No. Truth is nobody knows where that jewelry is. Hasn’t been since her disappearance in the mid 70’s. The insurance company put out a reward but none of the pieces have surfaced, even though it’s been thirty years since they vanished.”
The clock in the living room chimed. Ed looked at his watch then said he had to get going. Reluctantly, I showed him to the door. There was more to this story, I was certain.
That night, I told Lisa the story Ed had shared with e earlier. We sat in the living room, gazing at the picture, finishing off the plate of brownies Ed had so graciously provided. “It’s no wonder the woman went crazy and took off,” Lisa remarked.
The next day Lisa stayed home from work. She wasn’t feeling well and spent most of the morning in the bathroom. I wasn’t feeling all that great myself but I was able to continue my work on the dining room project.
When she wasn’t in the bathroom, Lisa worked on some projects in her craft room upstairs. The craft room was in front of the house and had a large window looking out over the yard and Ft. Wayne Street.
I took a break just before lunch and went upstairs to check on her. She was staring out the window at the house across the street. “What are looking at?” I asked.
“I swear that old lady across the street is spying on us,” Lisa answered. “Almost every time I’ve glanced over there, she’s been standing in her window looking over here. I think I even saw her using a pair of binoculars.”
I put my hands on Lisa’s shoulders and began to massage her neck. Jokingly I quipped, “Honey, if Hazel comes over here and tries to put the moves on me, you don’t have a thing to worry about. Drew may have seen something attractive in her that caused him to stray but all I see is a crazed old woman. She’s just not my type.”
Instead of laughing, Lisa snapped her head around and gave me a withering look. I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender. She went back to stringing beads on the necklace she was making. I looked at the back of her head for a moment, puzzled by her strange behavior.
Ed proved to be a good neighbor. He came over almost every day to tell us tales about our house and the previous owners. He hardly ever came over empty handed. He stopped bringing plates full of brownies, but he always seemed to bring over a couple for Lisa and me to enjoy. Lisa accused him of trying to fatten us for the winter.
He also volunteered to help with my remodeling projects. When I wanted to put a family room in the basement, he aggressively suggested fixing the wall of the main staircase instead. The wall was in such terrible shape we had to tear out all the lath and plaster and start over. I hoped we would discover more hidden places but, to my dismay there were none. We left the front door open while we tore out the plaster. It made our working conditions a bit more tolerable. That was, until Hazel walked in.
I was in the upstairs bedroom when she first came in. I must have caught the bug Lisa with which had been contending. Though I was able to work with Ed on the wall, I had to take frequent breaks. I hadn’t been eating much the past few days, yet I was fighting a severe case of the dry heaves. Ed, knowing I was felling top notch, had been kind enough to bring over a thermos of hot tea. “Best medicine for an upset stomach,” he said as he offered me a cup with steam curling out of it. “It’s a special recipe.” He winked as I had taken my first sip.
When I came out of the bathroom, I heard Ed exchanging harsh words with Hazel. “Get out of here! Go on home,” I heard Ed demand.
“But I want to see him, Ed,” I heard Hazel plead. “I haven’t talked to him in such a long time.” She whimpered like a small child.
As I turned the corner coming down the staircase, I saw Ed giving Hazel a tender hug, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her. He quickly pushed away when he spotted me. Hazel saw me, too. Her eyes gleamed and she gave me a toothless smile. “Oh Drew,” she cooed. “You look as handsome as ever.”
I shot Ed a questioning look. With an obvious look of embarrassment, he shrugged his shoulders before gently taking hold of Hazel’s arm and turning to lead her to the door. “I’ll just help her back across the street,” he said over his shoulder. Hazel mumbled something to him as they made their way to the front door.
As they were leaving, Hazel stopped and looked back to where I was still standing halfway down the stairs. “See you again, Drew,” she said. Then she gave me a familiar looking wink before turning and stepping out of the house.
I was feeling dizzy so I sat down on the stairs. A cold perspiration erupted on my forehead. I thought I might have to make another made dash to the bathroom but the wave of nausea soon passed.
Ed returned in just a few minutes. He closed the front door behind himself when he entered. Seeing me sitting on the stairs, he apologized for allowing Hazel to sneak in on him.”
“She called me ‘Drew’.”
“Yeah,” Ed said as he resumed applying plaster to the wall. “She gets confused pretty often these days.”
“She sure seemed comfortable around you,” I remarked. “Are the two of you close?”
Ed was smoothing out a section of the plaster when I asked the question. His arm stopped but he didn’t look at me or answer right away. “Just neighbors,” he finally muttered. “I’ve got to go downstairs and get some more plaster,” he said as he picked up the bucket and made his way to the basement. I couldn’t help but notice the bucket was still more than half full.
The rest of the afternoon passed without interruption. That is, if you don’t count my numerous trips to the bathroom. I seemed to be feeling worse as the day progressed. I finished off the tea Ed had brought, though I wasn’t able to keep it down for long.
We were just cleaning up when Lisa arrived home from work. She looked exhausted as she came through the front door. I walked over and started to give her a kiss, like every other night. Instead of kissing me back, she turned her face, allowing me to only kiss her on the cheek.
I proudly showed her the wall of the staircase. It was one of the projects she had wanted to see completed as soon as possible. I knew she would be happy to see our progress. But when she looked at it, she simply shrugged, then trudged up the stairs to the bedroom to change.
Ed saw the look of disappointment on my face. He clapped his hand down on my shoulder. “Don’t fret about it,” he said in an attempt to encourage me. “She’s probably still feeling under the weather. How ‘bout I go home and make another pot of my tea for the two of you. I’m sure that will make you both feel much better.”
I protested, but he insisted. Too weak and tired to argue, I sat down on the couch in the living room and waited for his return.
That night we had a torrential rain. Not hungry, and both us feeling exhausted, Lisa and I went to bed early. I lay under the covers listening as the rain buffeted the windows for almost an hour before dozing off.
In the morning, Lisa was so weak she could hardly get out of bed. I talked her into taking a sick day. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her so depressed. She climbed back under the covers, pulled them tightly around her, and drifted back to sleep.
I felt pretty weak myself. When I tried to get out of bed a severe attack of dizziness came over me and I had to steady myself against the wall. I was getting ready to get back in bed when I remembered it was garbage day. I shuffled off to the basement and started to drag the garbage can through the tunnel to the door leading to the alley. I stopped short when I saw water standing over an inch deep in the tunnel.
Looking for the source, I spotted the place where the water was spurting through a hole close to the floor. I put on some boots and walked over to investigate.
The wall on this side of the tunnel was covered with plaster. I was surprised to find the area of the leak was comprised of bricks, unlike the majority of the basement and tunnel which had been constructed from cinder blocks. The water was running through a hole where the mortar had given way. I poked at the mortar with my finger. More fell away, enlarging the hole. I tested the brick. It was loose and soon came out as I worked it back and forth.
When I removed the brick, the water standing behind it gushed into the tunnel. Judging by the amount of water, I surmised there had to be a large cavity of some sort on the other side of the wall. I started working on the adjacent bricks, loosening and removing them. After removing a half dozen or so, I had created a large enough opening to peer into the cavity. It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything.
Getting a flashlight, I looked again. I detected a sizable room filled with several objects I couldn’t identify in the limited light.
With my curiosity piqued, I forgot my feelings of sickness. Retrieving a sledgehammer and shovel from the basement I started to break through the wall, intent on discovering what was in the room on the other side.
Monday, 7:53 AM
When I came to, I was lying on my side, my face against the cool damp floor. I opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin as I focused on a pair or skeletal feet just inches in front of me. I started to sit up, the pain in my head slowing down my progress. I placed my hand on the floor to steady myself and brushed up against something warm. Despite the little light available in the room, I recognized the prone figure of my wife, still wrapped in blankets, lying next to me.
I looked up at the opening to the room. The sight caused me to remember how I had broken through the wall from the tunnel. Now, however, instead of the large gaping hole I had created with the sledgehammer, freshly laid brick covered most of the opening.
I tried to stand. As I did, I heard a shuffling sound in the tunnel. Suddenly, Ed’s torso filled the opening in the wall.
“I see you finally woke up,” he said.
“Ed, what’s going on?” I still wasn’t able to think too clearly as a result of the blow I had recently received.
“I tried to keep from working down here, “Ed croaked. “Don’t say I didn’t, ‘cause I did.” He shook his head sadly as he smoothed out some more mortar and put another brick into place. “This house has a got a lot of secrets that nobody should know about. Now, I guess there’ll be two more.”
The pain in my head was excruciating. It drained me of what little strength the lack of food and the nausea had left. I closed my eyes and shook my head in hopes of clearing my mind. Better yet, I hoped it would cause me to wake from this horrible nightmare. But when I opened my eyes, Ed was still there, adding another brick to the quickly disappearing portal to the rest of the house.
“It started with Lizzy, you know.” Ed continued to work as he spoke. “I wanted her to leave Drew and marry me. We’d been lovers for years. Instead, she decided to pack her things and move south. I couldn’t let her do that. I used my purple foxglove to make a powerful potion. She had a heart attack while Drew was gone to work.”
I had enough wits about me to know that if I had any hope of escape I need to keep Ed talking. “She probably deserved it for leading you on.”
“Yeah, I suppose she did.” He stopped working and cocked his head to the side as he reflected on his actions. “Thing is,” he pointed the trowel at me through the ever diminishing hole, “Drew was supposed to take the fall for it. He’d hurt Hazel too many times for me to just go on ignoring his cruelty.”
“Hazel? What’s Hazel have to do with anything?”
“I told you she and Drew were having an affair. She really loved him and he pretended to love her. He even told her he was going to leave Lizzy and take her as his wife.” He shook his head and scowled. “Instead, he just kept on using her. A brother can only stand by and watch that for for so long before he’s got to do something about it.”
“Hazel is your sister?” I inched closer to the wall as Ed talked. I was so weak but I knew I had to force myself to take some kind of action.
Ed smoothed out some more mortar and laid another brick in place. “Not many people know that.” He chuckled before adding, “So don’t you go telling anybody. Hear?”
There wasn’t much light making its way into the room now. The hole was getting smaller and Ed’s frame covered most of it, effectively blocking the light. I quietly felt along the floor for something I could use as a weapon. All I could feel was damp earth.
“I hadn’t really planned on killing Margaret but it hurt Hazel so much for Drew to take up with another woman like he did. So I decided to hurt Drew more by making his marriage to Margaret as miserable as I could. I discovered giving small doses of my potion caused some interesting results. For Margaret, small doses sent her into a deep depression. Most days, she wouldn’t even get out of bed. She didn’t even care enough to bathe herself. There wasn’t much romance between them, I can tell you that.”
“How did you get her to take your ‘potion?’” I asked. I continued to creep closer to the Ed and the opening.
“I dry the leaves and seeds of the purple foxglove then grind them up. Then I’ll put them in things like brownies, or herbal tea.” Ed smiled and winked as he saw the look of understanding dawning on my face. “Yep. You and the Missus has been on the potion ever since you first moved in.”
“Why, Ed?”
“I knew from the day I first set eyes on you that you was the questioning type.” I watched as another brick was put in place. The hole was only large enough now for me to see Ed’s head and the upper part of his shoulders. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you went a discovered something that would raise suspicions.” He applied more mortar followed by another brick. “It’s a good thing for me I decided to drop by this morning when I did. Would have been bad if you’d gone and called the police and showed ‘em what you’d found in there.”
“Ed, listen to me,” I began to plead. “I don’t have to tell anybody anything. Let us out and I’ll help you close up this wall and I’ll pretend I never saw a thing.”
“Drew? Is that you?” I heard Hazel’s voice out in the tunnel.
Ed’s face disappeared from in front of the hole and I heard him talking to Hazel. “Hazel, you go on back home now. There’s nothing here for you to see.”
“But I thought I heard Drew,” she whined. I could tell she was getting closer to the hole in the wall.
“Hazel!” I shouted. It’s Drew! I’m in here. Ed is trying to keep us apart by burying me alive.” I hoped she would be delusional enough that I might fool her into intervening.
Suddenly, Hazel’s face filled the hole and peered in. She didn’t have a flashlight and her head blocked the light from the tunnel, making it impossible for her to actually see my face. “Hazel, sweetheart, you’ve got to talk Ed into letting me go so you and I can be together.”
I could see Ed’s hands on Hazel’s shoulders, prying her away from the hole. He spoke gently to her, easing her farther away. Suddenly, she started screaming and I could hear them scuffling in the tunnel. Knowing that Ed was now preoccupied with Hazel, I made my move. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I threw myself against the wall Ed had been building. The bricks hardly gave at all and the impact drove the wind out of me and caused my shoulder to throb with pain. The scuffling continued outside. Gasping for breath, I took a couple of steps back into the room and charged the wall a second time, throwing my entire weight into the effort. This time, it collapsed and I went sprawling on top of the bricks in the tunnel.
I watched as Ed pushed Hazel to the floor. He turned, glaring at me with murderous anger etched on his face. The weakness from being ill, combined with the excruciating pain ebbing through my body immobilized me. Ed reached for the sledgehammer leaning against the tunnel wall. I knew I had only seconds to move before he would bring it crashing into my skull. I tried to push myself up but my arms refused to cooperate.
Ed slowing started to walk my way, raising the sledgehammer at the same time. He didn’t see Hazel get up from the floor. I could tell she knew what Ed was about to do. I was surprised by how quickly she moved. She grabbed the shovel and without so much as a moment’s hesitation, slammed it into the back of Ed’s head. Ed immediately dropped the sledgehammer then dropped like a sack of potatoes, right on top of me, pinning me to the pile of bricks. Hazel used the shovel to hit Ed several more times before she collapsed in a heap beside us. She looked back and forth between Ed and me several times before breaking down into tears. I blacked out from the pain and exhaustion.
When I came to, the first thing I noticed was the pain. Second was the darkness. I was lying on something which was digging into my ribs. I tried to move, but there was something else heavy on top of me. I heard a noise behind me so I called out.
“Is that you, Drew?” I heard Hazel ask. Suddenly a light illuminated my surroundings. I was back in the hidden room off the tunnel. I was lying on top of Lisa, her knees jammed into my ribcage. An arm was draped over my shoulder. I recognized the little part of the shirt I could see as belonging to Ed. Then the light went out.
“Hazel, what are you doing? Aren’t you going to let me out?”
“No, Drew. I’m not going to let you out. You keep hurting me, Drew. Why do you do that? All these new women you keep bringing to this house – it’s got to stop.” I heard a sound which I had learned to recognize only this morning. It was the sound of mortar being smoothed out followed by a brick being laid in place.
“Hazel, you’ve got to listen to me. I’m not Drew. I’m your new neighbor. Drew has been dead for a few years now.”
“I know,” Hazel said in a sing song voice. “Ed killed him, just like he killed the women.”
“Then you know you have to let me go,” I pleaded.
“No. I can’t do that,” she said. “You have to die like all the rest.”
“Why, Hazel?” I shouted. “Why do I have to die?”
I heard another brick going into place, but this one sounded different from the others. Looking around best I could, I realized I was now surrounded by absolute darkness. I had heard the last brick being put into place. “Hazel!” I screamed.
“It’s okay, Drew,” I heard her muffled voice through the wall. “Everyone will just say it’s the curse.” The sound of her hideous laughter echoed in the tunnel, only to be drowned out by my own horrified scream of terror.