When a Memory Walks Free

That night the wind broke a window. I stood barefoot in the doorway watching as the storm came in uninvited. Power was out and the dim room mixed into the darkness creeping in from outside. The window glass had broken into thousands of rain-soaked shards on the beech wood floor. In the shadows, the see-through white, long curtains reaching from ceiling all the way to the floor, danced in the wind like ancient ghosts dressed in wedding gowns. The rain poured in drumming loudly and outside there were waterfalls running down from the over-filled eaves. The sound reminded me of wild horses running as their hooves drummed the ground. I stared into the darkness. Behind the broken window the world seemed to disappear as if it never existed. I could smell the scent of wet leaves and pumpkin fields carried by the autumn storm. The sight looked exactly how I often felt inside: sometimes my mind felt as broken as that window.

I was awoken from my thoughts, as Noah appeared beside me and put his little arms around my leg.

“Who came in through the window?” He asked in a quiet, sleepy voice. The big, white T-shirt and long, blue underpants were wrinkled and fuzzy. I wished I had more money to buy new clothes for the boy.

“The storm came in, nothing else. Go back to sleep, honey”, I said and brushed his nut brown, curly hair. It had grown too long, hanging in front of his eyes. I should cut it. I only had kitchen shears but they would have to do.

“You’re wrong. Someone else came inside with the storm.”

I got chills down my spine. I looked around in the room. There was no one there. Something about the way Noah had said the words made me anxious.

“It’s just your imagination. Go back to sleep”, I said a little firmer this time. Noah looked at me with his big, dark eyes shadowed by the long, black eyelashes. Then he obeyed and walked silently back to his room. Something kept bothering me.

As I was cleaning the broken glass, I found a dead bird. A big, black owl. Its feathers, wet from the rain, looked like snakeskin, and its beak was slightly open as if it was still breathing but I could not be sure in the dark. I fetched a towel from the kitchen and lifted the bird with that. The feathers were glued to the floor and let go reluctantly. Somewhere in the distance a lightning erupted and for a second it lit the room and the trees standing outside. I was soaking wet from the rain pouring inside. The bird was in my lap in the towel and did not move. Its head was dangling in an unnatural way, it must have had broken its neck when it flew against the window. I covered the bird with the towel and put it in a cardboard box. Noah must have seen the bird. My intuition was warning me.

The storm kept coming in from the broken window all night but when the morning dawned it finally stopped. In the cloudy, gray weather next day we buried the bird in the backyard, underneath a rowan tree. I dug a hole using a green planting shovel and Noah sat on the ground, legs crossed, watching. Finally the hole was deep enough.

“Mommy”, Noah whispered.

“Yes, honey?”

“Why are you burying it underground? The bird will suffocate there, will it not?”

I stopped for a moment and gave the boy an encouraging smile:

“Its not breathing anymore, therefor, it cannot suffocate. Just like your dad there in the corner of the fields, underneath the apple trees, do you remember? We have to find a stone for the bird, like the one your father has.”

The boy looked puzzled, even sad for a while. Then there was an expression of disappointment in his face.

“Then why don’t you bury it with dad. They could keep company to each other.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had not visited Edward’s grave for a year, I simply could not. I often stared through the window at the big, black gravestone standing in the shadows of those apple trees but I could not force myself to go to it. Something kept telling me not to. I shook my head.

“I can’t bury it there”, I said and it sounded as if I was supposed to say something more but the thought slipped my mind. I looked at Noah and then said briskly:

“We are going to find a beautiful, big stone for this grave. Come, honey!”

Behind the house, there was a forest and a river running through it, a river no bigger than a stream. There were big stones peeking from the water, rising defiantly up towards the sky. We found one we liked and placed it on the freshly dug grave. All flowers had died already but I broke a small branch off the rowan tree and put it on the grave. The orange berries looked so very beautiful.

Strange Happenings

Eventually the darkness of autumn subsided as a white veil of snow covered the dry grass. It scrunched nicely under shoes when walking. Frost hardened the ground and day after another a white cotton-like cloud hang low in the sky absorbing the sunlight. Bright-orange berries bent the branches of the rowan tree down, ready to feed the animals through the long winter but despite that I never saw birds or squirrels in the tree. A weak draught came from the mountains. It took away the smell of autumn and replaced it with coldness that froze the hair in your nose making it hard to breath. During nights, I watched through the window, I had now fixed, and saw the colorful auroras flowing like a river in the sky. Some believed that those lights were souls of the men and animals of past. I had no opinion on that but I found the colors soothing. I loved winter nights, wrapping inside a blanket, sipping hot cocoa and staring outside. To Noah, I had only given hot milk as I did not want him to have too much sugar before going to bed. He buried his curly hair in my chest.

“Tomorrow I will cut your hair. It’s too long”, I said and brushed it.

“No. My hair’s fine”, Noah stated reluctantly, lifted his head and shook it exaggeratedly in a child-like manner.

“Yes, I will. You can’t see anything under that hair!”

“What if I don’t want to see. What if I wouldn’t like what I saw.”

The question was so strange I left it unanswered. That something, feeling of uneasiness, still haunted me. Behind the window, the still fresh grave looked lonely. It was so far away from the other grave standing further in the fields. My eyes closed and the Sandman welcomed me into a dreamworld. The last thing I heard was Noah snoring in my arms.

I woke up in the middle of the night, still sitting in my chair. I was not sure how long I had been sleeping. I lifted my hands from the arms of the chair and put them down on my lap, suddenly realizing that Noah was gone. I panicked, I was not sure why, and jumped up.

“Noah! Noah!”

Then something flew over my head. I stood still. I looked around in the room. On the top of the fireplace, there was an old, silver-framed mirror. I saw from the reflection that behind me, on the chair I had just sat on, was a big, black owl. It could not be the same owl but my mind instantly thought so, nevertheless. I was startled and turned around quickly but the owl was gone. Noah came from his room looking half asleep.

“Mommy. Why are you calling for me?”

“Oh, I was just scared when I woke up and you weren’t there anymore! Then I thought I saw an owl fly in the room”, I explained and turned on the floor lamp in the corner of the room. Luckily, the power had returned by now. The warm light filled the room and made Noah’s face look round and plump.

“But you buried the bird?” Noah said and blinked sleepy.

“Yes, yes, I did. There is no bird here, of course. I guess I was dreaming”, as soon as I said that I felt really tired and yawned. I scooped Noah into my arms and carried him back to bed.

Almost a week had passed by when I finally got around to cut Noah’s hair. The boy was sitting on a kitchen stool and was moving in annoyance as the scissors came too close to his earlobes. I had put a faded, yellow towel on his shoulders so the cut hair would not get on his skin. I was cutting the hair hastily and was aware that it looked uneven. I was in the middle of cutting the hair on the back of his head when I noticed something terrible. My hands stopped.

“Where did this come from!” I gasped. There was a red spot on the back of his head, like an imprint or abrasion. It looked bad.

“But mommy, don’t you remember? You did that.”

I struggled to breath.

“No, no, I did not. Don’t lie to me!” I yelled shaking my head in disbelief. I put down the scissors and walked to the window. I closed my eyes and breathed. I did not do it. But who then? I just stood there for a long while and eventually my mind wondered back to the dead bird. Maybe I should light a candle on the grave. I turned around, dried my eyes and looked at Noah.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know”, I said hesitatingly. I walked back to the boy. There were no signs of any red spot on the back of his head. I rubbed my eyes. I guess, I was just tired. I raised the towel off his shoulders and ordered him to go for an evening wash. Then I started preparing porridge out of oat flakes as we did not have much else for a supper.

It really properly snowed the first time that night. We woke up to a winter wonderland. Noah loved snow and so we spent most of our days outside. I had lit a candle on the owl’s grave and I wished I would have the courage to light one on Noah’s father’s grave as well. But I had not.

We were walking down a snowy path between the fields. It was difficult for Noah to walk as his tiny legs kept sinking into the snow so he wanted to ride piggyback. We went on in silence, Noah was swinging on my back. He was heavy for a four-year-old.

“Mommy, why did you bury dad?”

I stopped. I tried to think.

“I didn’t bury dad. Dad passed away and that’s why he was buried. Just like the black owl that flew inside the house.” For a second, I could almost feel the wet feathers in my hands.

“But who buried dad if not you?”

My eyes grew wide and I heard my self gasp in horror. I could not recall who had dug the grave. How could I not remember that?

“And why did dad pass away? Did he fly through a window as well?”

My ears started ringing. I lifted my hands to them and shook my head.

“No, no, no. I don’t remember. Your dad is dead, that’s all you need to know.”

I could feel Noah’s little body trying to get down. I dropped my hands and let him come off.

“Dear mommy, that’s okay. You will remember. Lets go. I want hot milk, my toes are frozen!” Noah started running’ in the thick snow. I rubbed my forehead. Let it go. You haven’t slept well recently, that’s all. Then I followed the boy.

Black Bird Returns

It was as if I was unable to reach a part of me. I was disturbed by the enigma of what really happened to my husband but still I was unable to visit his grave. Instead, I burned candles on grave of the owl. The rowan tree was still full of berries, no animal would come and eat them. I kept wondering that maybe that was because of the grave. Maybe the animals could sense the dead bird resting underground. I had seen birds in the forest behind the house but they never came to our yard. I sat in the armchair, thinking. It was early morning. The sun was shining bright at the break of dawn. The snow glistened like it was filled with thousands of little diamonds. Why was I unable to remember? I was starting to think that someone had something to do with it. I was unable to recognize my reflection in the mirror, it looked unfamiliar. Was it a witch’s curse or why did I feel as if my head was foggy. It was difficult to see.

Suddenly my eyes met something. In the rowan tree, on the highest branch, sat a big, black owl. It was staring at me and I became restless. Again, I realized I was thinking that it had to be the same owl I had buried, even though, I knew that was impossible. What if I truly was cursed? What if it was trying to tell me something? I felt the bird’s stare so pressing, I had to turn away from it. I instead looked into the silver-framed mirror above the fireplace. My face was wrinkly, my hair on a bun was gray and messy. I rubbed my eyes. I should go wake up Noah. I had promised the boy that we would built a snow castle later today. It would take time and the days were short now so we should get an early start. I turned to the tree again. The bird was gone.

The snow castle ended up looking miserable. The roof was low and it was hard for me to get inside. We decorated it with pine branches and watercolors but that did not help. Noah was happy, nevertheless, and that was all I needed. I left him outside to play and went inside to prepare a meal. My mittens were soaked and I left them on top of the heater to dry. I took off the red overalls and the white beanie. My hair looked like a bird’s nest. I was combing them with my hands when I felt a burning on my cheek. The pain kept growing. I went to the bathroom, lit the dirty yellow light over the mirror cabinet and was surprised by what I saw. There was a bright red spot on my left cheek. Funny, as I did not remember hitting it. My head was pounding and the cheek kept swelling in front of my eyes. My ears started ringing. I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. Suddenly, there was silence. I opened my eyes and there was nothing out of ordinary about my cheek. No redness, no pain.

I put on dry woolen socks and went to the kitchen. I took off a white and blue striped woolen carpet on top of the hatch on the floor. I pulled from the metal ring that worked as a handle and the hatch opened creaking. It was pitch-black in the cellar. I grabbed a flashlight hanging from a nail on the wall, and dropped down. I found a sack of potatoes and another with turnips. I picked some vegetables and put them in a plastic bowl, then lifted the bowl up on the kitchen floor. I found also a bottle of red wine and some red currant juice for Noah. Then I jumped out of the cellar, closed the hatch and pulled the carpet back to cover it. Just as I was doing that, Noah ran inside waving his hands.

“Mommy, mommy! The owl came back!”

I stared at the boy, his red cheeks and nose and his big, brown eyes.

“Honey, I don’t think it’s the same owl. I saw it this morning myself. It looks similar but it’s not the same bird”, I explained and moved the vegetables in the sink.

“But it is. It is the same bird and you called for it to return. Don’t you want to remember dad?”

I turned around quickly and stared out the window.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I did not understand what Noah meant.

“If the owl was no more, you could remember again, right?”

I was getting annoyed.

“Go to your room!” I yelled at him. My head was pounding again. I opened the wine bottle and poured a full glass. Noah was just standing there, silent, watching.

“Go!” The boy ran away.

The Grave Opens

Auroras danced in sky, green, blue and purple. Unlike usually, this time they did not calm me down. I had decide to open the owl’s grave and make sure that the bird was there but the ground was still frozen so I had to wait for the spring and I was anxiously counting the days.

Even though, winter was long, I enjoyed it. Months went by and I got better, my mind seemed to ease. I slept well and did not worry so much. We went for walks with Noah every day and we were already planning which flowers to plant when the spring would come. I had started knitting and had managed to finish two pairs of socks, two shirts and mittens. I felt rested. The sun stayed in the sky longer each day, snow started to melt and the ice turned into water drops and dribbled down from the eaves. Somewhere in the forest birds started to sing on the trees that were turning greenish again. I had planned that we would paint eggshells on the Easter and fetch some willows to decorate with colorful feathers. I hoped to see birds on the rowan tree but they were still evading it. Spring spun into life and soon we were able to go out without wearing jackets. I was waiting for the ground to defrost and then the day finally came.

The spring sun felt warm on my bare arms. Light, chill wind broke the heat from time to time and made the hairs on my arms rise up. The smell in the air was a mix of wet sand and cool spring rain we had gotten yesterday. I struck my shovel into the ground. It was hard but I managed to dig. The rowan tree above me had withered and towered gray over me, watching. I kept digging until I recognized the cardboard box. It was partly decomposed but still in the same place I had buried it last autumn.

I lifted the box carefully from the ground and it felt too light. I opened the lid and found the towel inside. But even though, I kept turning it and searching, I could not find any sings of the bird.

It’s not possible, I thought. I was in disbelief. My head was pounding. My ears were ringing. I dropped the towel from my hands and stared at the rowan tree. There was a burl I had never noticed before.

The Unseen Becomes Visible

I was sitting in silence in the kitchen. Noah had gone outside to play and had not returned yet. My head was pounding as if a herd of buffaloes were thumbing on it. I had drank a glass of wine, then another and then another and then took some pain medicine. I made coffee and hot chocolate and ate some salted crackers I found. Nothing helped. My body was shaking and I could hear my pulse. I was sure I was having a heart attack. Then the door opened. I got up in panic.

“Noah! I thought you would never come back!” I wanted to hug the boy but something was keeping me from doing that.

“You opened the grave, right? You know now that the owl never existed”, Noah’s voice was different. Grown-up. Like a familiar stranger. Someone else was speaking through him. I heard myself cry.

“What do you mean? Someone must’ve opened the grave and taken the owl. I don’t understand.”

“Come and I’ll show you”, the boy said and offered me his little hand. I hesitated a while, then grabbed it and let him lead me out the door, past the rowan tree and towards the grave on the corner of the fields.

“No, no, no, I don’t want to. Please”, I begged but my feet kept walking. Noah stayed silent.

The night was drenched in mourning, the ground was gray and naked beneath my feet. I was not wearing any shoes and my toes felt frozen. My ears were ringing. The world otherwise was strangely quiet. I followed the boy all the way to the grave and then forced myself to look at the gravestone. Engraved in it read: “Here lies Noah Eric Avonius”. I turned to Noah but he was no more. Painful memories came back forcefully, I was screaming and dropped down to my knees. Wet grass stained my dress.

“No, no, no, I don’t want to remember, please! Please, take it away!” But I could not run from the truth anymore, it was seeping back into my mind.

I was very young, only barely in my twenties. We had gotten married and bought a house in the countryside, far away from civilization. I had grown up in a city, I was a city girl, and suddenly I was forced to leave it all, the social life, my friends, my family, everything. I was so lonely, I did not want to get up in the mornings. Then I got pregnant and gave birth to a little boy. I was sure I would never feel lonely again.

But I was wrong. Edward did not help me with the baby and I felt exhausted. The child needed me every second of the day. Noah had a colic, he never slept, he just kept crying all the time. I could not sleep either. I felt like I was going to die, every day was a battle. Then Edward left to war. I was completely alone with Noah. I simply could not cope. I never meant to hurt anyone. I was not myself.

That evening Noah was sitting in a tub. I stood in the bathroom doorway and watched the hazy scene. The warm water looked yellow and there were happy soap bubbles bouncing on the surface. Noah smiled at me revealing his tiny, adorable, white teeth. I walked next to the tub and sat on the floor crossing my legs. I stared at my son with a slight smile on my face. He looked so happy right now but soon the crying would start again and I just wanted to rest. Noah turned his back to me and then I… Raised my hand, put it on the back of his head and pushed. I did not have to use much force, he was so weak. He started to fight back and I pushed with both hands to keep him underwater. I pushed until he stopped moving and went limb.

I lifted my dead son into my arms and stared at his chubby, round face. Funny, though, I did not feel anything. I heard the front door open.

I walked to the door with the boy in my hands, dripping water. It was Edward. He had returned. When he saw me, he screamed in horror and ran to me, snatched the boy from my arms and pushed his face against his soaked wet, curly hair. I felt nauseous. Edward raised his eyes and looked at me, he knew. I opened my mouth to say that I was sorry but right then Edward hit me in the face. My cheek felt burning hot, I felt it swelling. It was as if I was awoken. I started crying. Edward opened the door, took a shovel resting against the wall and carried Noah underneath the apple trees. Then he dug a grave and buried the boy. And then he left. I never saw him again but a month later I noticed someone had placed a gravestone on the grave. At that time I was starting to forget. And soon came the night when the black owl flew inside with the storm and transformed into my son.

Evil Is Born On An Autumn Night

 Annika stood still in front of the kitchen sink with a half washed glass in her hand and listened. It had sounded as if someone was moving in the living-room. The clock on the wall knocked loudly and the faucet, just turned off, dribbled water drops into the bottom of the sink. Annika heard it again! Footsteps. As if someone was in the living-room. Annika put the soapy glass down in the sink and dried her hands in the towel hanging from the cabinet’s handle. Then she tiptoed to the living-room, holding her breath. The spacious room was pitch-black and suddenly the air felt really cold. Annika turned on the light and gasped. One of the little windows was open and an autumn wind came in. The sprinkle outside had wet the floor and the wind had brought in a few pink maple leaves. There was no one in the living-room.

Annika closed the window and collected the leaves from the floor. The water would dry on its own. She rubbed her forehead tired. This was the second time she had thought she heard someone in the house.

Annika and Tom had bought an old, rural mansion. It had been sold to them unusually cheap. The mansion had been built in the 1900’s and had worked as a rectory at first. That was why there was a big cemetery just beside the house, visible from the master bedroom window. Annika did not care for the cemetery but otherwise she loved the mansion. To her knowledge, it had burned down once in the 1930’s and had been reconstructed after that. Later owners had added something to it in every generation; an added wing, that did not fit the existing building very well, spacious, a bit too modern garage, pretty glass pavilion. Pipelines and bathroom tiling had been redone in the past decade. The house was not perfect but it had historical layering and personality that Annika and Tom liked. Anna had also seemed to like her new home and school. Anna was an energetic and happy child, talkative. She had no problems making new friends.

All the furniture had arrived five days ago as well as Annika, Tom and Anna. Some of the walls still needed a repaint but most of the items had already been placed. On the very first night, Annika had thought she heard someone in the house. Tom was in a store at the time and Anna in her room upstairs. Annika had dismissed it as her imagination playing tricks on her but now she had heard the footsteps again. And yet again, Annika had no witnesses as Tom and Anna were visiting the grandparents. Anna had stayed at home because of a headache. She sighed and went back to the kitchen. She washed the glass, took some bread out of a cabinet and toppings for it from the fridge and started making supper for herself.

Then she heard a loud bang. It sounded like the noise had come from the other side of the house. Annika rushed through the rooms and stopped in the hallway. The front door was wide open and the bang had come from the door hitting the wall when opened by force. The rain sprinkled inside and it was so dark outside Annika could not make out the trees in the garden. Then she noticed it; wet footprints on the floor. Someone came in. Annika ran outside, she would not stay in the house with an unknown, uninvited guest. She stumbled through the yard and all the way to the lighted street. With shaking hands, Annika reached to her pockets but remembered instantly that she had placed her phone on the kitchen counter just a while ago.

“Damn!” She muttered to herself and glanced around. The sprinkle transformed into a thin, gray veil in the glow of the streetlights. Annika saw that the neighbors had lights on. She started making her way towards a wooden, yellow, single-storey house. Her naturally bendy hair curled up in the moist weather.

*

“So, you thought you heard something in the living-room and assumed there was someone inside the house? And a few minutes from that, you heard someone coming in from the front door, other side of the house?” A nice police woman asked in a soft voice.

“I know, sounds stupid. Maybe there was more than one perpetrator? Or… I don’t know”, Annika rubbed her face and shook her head.

“Maybe I didn’t hear footsteps in the living-room. Maybe I just assumed. Maybe it was the open window making noise.”

“Hmm. And nothing was taken from the house?” The woman asked.

“No, I don’t see anything missing”, Annika whispered. She felt ashamed. She was sure everyone thought she was crazy.

“And there were wet footprints in the hallway, you said?” The police woman tried.

“I thought so but now I’m not sure anymore. The light wasn’t on, it was quite dark.”

“We didn’t see any footprints, the floor was dry”, the police said.

“I know. That’s why I’m reconsidering what I saw. But the footprints could’ve just dried up before you came, right?” Annika proposed in despair. Tom put his hand on her shoulder. Tom did not believe her, Annika knew that.

“You also told us that you left the door open when you ran outside but it was closed when we came. There was no one in the house or any indication that someone had been in the house. The living-room window was closed”, the constable explained.

“I know. I closed it. The window, I mean. Whoever was in the house, could’ve closed the door as he left, right?”

“That’s right”, the police sighed and gave a disbelieving glance at her partner.

“Okay, keep the doors and windows locked from now on and don’t hesitate to call us if something happens again”, the older policeman encouraged them and then the they left. Tom did as instructed and locked the door. Then he made sure the living-room window was closed. He noticed that it was poorly in it’s place. Maybe it had not been closed properly before and that was why the window opened on its own, Tom explained. The window was stiff to close. Annika had not noticed that.

Tom helped Anna wash her teeth and get ready to bed while Annika boiled some tea for them. They retired to the bedroom and Annika was getting more and more convinced that she had imagined everything. She was afraid of the dark and being alone and that must have been affecting her judgment. Outside the rain had grown in to an autumn storm and the water hit against the window and the roof loudly. Annika fell into a restless dream.

*

The morning came misty and calm. The drop in temperature had painted the grass white and the trees had dropped their last, long lingering leaves. Tom had taken Anna to school before going to the hospital where he worked as a surgeon. The girl had scurried around Annika the whole morning, with a red helmet on her head and showing off her new, red teddy.

“We got these from school. There was a man talking about traffic safety and we all got these helmets and teddy bears”, Anna explained and went on making stories about the teddy, next more magical than the previous.

Annika had laughed. She had not heard the story last night because of the police visiting. Annika baked the whole morning and enjoyed watching her daughter but she enjoyed the peace as well when the two finally left and Annika was in the house all alone.

Annika put on big oven mitts and took out the steaming pie. She had baked it as a thank you gift for the neighbors.

Last night, when she had ran in to the neighbor’s house, an old man hand welcomed her in kindly. He had introduced himself as George and invited her in to call the police. George had offered Annika a glass of homemade juice while they were waiting.

His wife, Ruth, had come home just before the police came. Ruth had been dripping water from the rain, but she was all smile. She was a red-cheeked, small and thin, seventy-year-old woman with big, kind, blue-green eyes. Ruth had no time to properly introduce herself to Annika but she had invited her to have coffee when everything was over. Annika had been surprised by the sudden invitation but decided to take it and remember to thank the neighbors. They seemed very nice and Annika did not know anyone else in the neighborhood yet.

A big smile appeared on Ruth’s face when she saw Annika standing in her porch with a pie in her hands.

“Oh dear. Get inside, darling!” She raised her hands and took a step back to let Annika in.

“Come in to the kitchen, the coffee is waiting.”

“Thank you. And thank you for last night”, Annika said and put the pie on the table.

“No worries. We take care of our own here”, Ruth smiled and poured the coffee. Then she sat down across Annika and studied her.

“You’re not from around here?” Ruth asked.

“No, we’re not but Tom’s parents lived here when they were young”, Annika smiled.

“You had a little girl with you, I saw. Ten-years?” Ruth asked and her eyes twinkled. Annika assumed she liked children.

“Nine. Anna. Her name’s Anna.”

“Nine! Our Dan was nine when he went missing! You haven’t seen him, have you?” Ruth asked suddenly with hope in her voice.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, yeah. Dan would be 41 now, for heaven’s sake. But he’ll come home one day, I know it”, Ruth said sure. Annika was starting to doubt that the woman was not alright in the head.

“Dan is your son?”

“You got that right. Daniel went missing 32 years ago. The police couldn’t find him, they claimed that the boy had ran away but I didn’t believe that. Dan was a lively boy for sure, always ready for an adventure but he wouldn’t leave his mommy, never. Not willingly. I know Dan is alive, a mother can feel it. In here”, Ruth said and pointed to her chest.

“He’ll come back… Wait!” Ruth said and hopped down from her chair. She retrieved a framed photo on top the cabinet and handed it to Annika.

“That’s our Daniel. Of course, he’s much older now but if you’ll see him, you’ll tell me, won’t you? And you’ll tell the boy to come home?” Ruth stared at Annika with watery eyes, tears not yet rolling on to her cheeks.

“Of course I will”, Annika said confused. She was not sure how to react to the old woman’s story.

“You can keep the picture, I have plenty”, Ruth said and wiped her eyes on to the sleeve of her shirt. Annika was sure that Ruth was not living quite in this reality but she was old after all.

“Fine then! You want some more coffee?” Ruth asked happily and it was as if all was forgotten in a heartbeat. They talked about everything between heaven an the earth and two hours went by before Annika left.

“Thank you, Ruth. And come by anytime.”

They became friends in the following days. Annika enjoyed the old woman’s company, even though, Ruth seemed a little confused from time to time. She could knead dough and talk about the flowers she was going to plant in her garden next spring and the suddenly something reminded her of Daniel. Ruth’s eyes would get twinkly and she would start telling a story, Annika was not sure if it was real or not, and then, like struck by a lightning, she would go back to Geraniums and Peonies.

George explained that Ruth had Alzheimer’s.

“That’s why she tells stories and forgets things. She keeps waiting for the boy to come home, I don’t have a heart to tell her to stop. He’s never coming home. But Ruth hopes and waits and every year, at the time of the disappearance’s anniversary she gets more restless. Spending time with the lady, does good for Ruth. She seems like she’s getting young again when she’s with you.”

*

The first snow came well before Samhain. A delicate snow blanket lit up the dark nights and Annika started to feel more comfortable in her new home. It was Ruth’s time to visit her and the old woman sat in the kitchen of the rectory drinking coffee and staring at the snow outside.

“It was around this time of the year when it happened...” Ruth muttered quietly.

“What happened?” Annika asked. She was not sure if Ruth was talking to herself or to Annika. Maybe she was talking about Daniel’s disappearance.

“The man tried to kill his wife in the old rectory...” Ruth whispered thinking.

“What did you say?” Annika froze.

Ruth turned her head slowly and stared Annika right in the eyes. Ruth’s eyes were murky and her forehead was wrinkled.

“You said, something happened in the rectory. You mean here? In this mansion where we are now?” Annika tried. Ruth nodded.

“Yes. There was a family that used to live here. Mister, he had problems. He was fine, nice and all, but then he would have an episode of some kind. He kept antagonizing his wife. He had bad spirits inside him…

They’ve lived in the house since 1900’s, the spirits. The old vicar built secret pathways in the house to escape the spirits and their possessed people. During the Samhain night, the vicar buried his children alive in the cemetery grounds, in little, wooden coffins to hide them from the spirits. Because the spirits dared not to look for them in the same soil where the spirits’ broken bodies lay. They couldn’t face what had happened to them in life. But that was all very long time ago…

Then came the family, I was talking about. Mister was possessed by the spirits. The secret pathways helped the wife to escape but one day the mister caught his wife and hit her with a hatchet, right in the head. The wife died, probably.” Annika felt a chill. She pulled her cardigan on tighter and told herself that Ruth was making up the story. It made no sense at all. It was probably a sum of many misremembered things.

“Yeah, that’s how it happened. But what about the child? Oh, now I remember. Mister built a wall in the attic and left the boy inside the wall, into a room with no way out. To die”, Ruth shook her head.

“Ruth, are you sure you’re talking about this house? This rectory?” Annika asked.

“Yeah, I think so”, Ruth nodded.

“But Ruth, this house has no attic. Is it possible that you are talking about another mansion?”

Ruth stared right at her. Suddenly the woman’s eyes brightened and the corners of her mouth turned up. Her whole expression changed.

“Yes. You’re right, honey. I misremember. Talking silly, old woman! Where’s that lovely Anna, I would like to give her a present. I knitted her very adorable woolen socks!” Ruth explained cheerfully and pulled out red and yellow striped socks from her bag. Annika was confused but forced herself to smile. She got up and walked to the end of the stairs.

“Anna! Ruth brought you something!”

Anna loved her new socks and showed Ruth her new, red teddy bear.

*

“Phew. Quite a storyteller you got there”, Tom said when Annika told him what Ruth has said.

“What do you think, could it be true? Could something like that have happened in here?” Annika asked while chopping vegetables.

“Well. Like you said yourself, the rectory has no attic. Well, it has a space between the roof and the ceiling but you can’t access it. And you could not stand there, only crawl. At least, there’s no children in there, for sure”, Tom concluded. He had left the stove on too high and the water was boiling over making an angry hiss when it reached the hot surface.

“Damn!” Tom groaned and lifted the pot from the stove.

“I’m serious, Annika. This house has never had an attic, that’s for sure. It’s stupid that Ruth’s scaring you when you’re already tired and imagining hearing things in the house”, he continued.

“Yeah, you’re right, I know Ruth’s talking nonsense. George explained to me that she might read something or see something on TV and then she mistakes and thinks that the things she’s read or heard really happened to her”, Annika admitted and wrapped her hands around her husband. Tom was wiping off the water from the stove.

“I know. We have many patients with Alzheimer’s. They can make up terrifying stories, scares me too”, he said and shaking his head.

“Is the dinner ready soon?” Anna walked into the kitchen holding her red teddy in her hands and wearing her new woolen socks.

“I’m serious, Annika. Forget it”, Tom looked at Annika seriously. Annika nodded as a sign of acceptance.

*

Annika stood at the window thinking. She stared outside to the cemetery. The snow did not last and it was raining again. The ground was black and it was dim even during days. Stubborn mist lingered circling tree trunks and tombstones. Annika yawned. She should wake up Anna and take her to school as Tom had been paged in early this morning.

Annika awoke to a scratching sound. She looked around in the room. Was she imagining? The noise stopped almost immediately. She turned back to the window.

Suddenly she froze. She stared at the cemetery as if bewitched. In the cemetery was a man standing and facing the house. His face was covered by the shadows cast by a black hood. The dark, tall figure was menacing in an inexplicable way, eerie. Something about the man seemed odd, almost familiar to Annika. The man stood in front of no tombstone, he did not seem like he was visiting any grave. He seemed to stare straight at the rectory as if looking for something. Annika put on woolen socks, walked downstairs fast, put on her quilted jacket and wellies. Then she went outside, after unlocking the lock and the backup lock they had installed after the police’s visit. She headed towards the cemetery.

When she reached the spot, where the man had stood, there was no one there. She could not explain what it was about the man that had bothered her. She did not know why she had come outside to look for the man. Annika strolled among the tombstones but saw no one, not a soul. She turned to get back but then she saw something that made her heart skip a beat.

A window.

She had never before looked at the rectory’s windows closely enough to notice but now she did. Beside the bedroom window was a smaller window. The problem was that there were no other windows in the bedroom if you looked from inside the house. In the far wall of the bedroom was an alcove for the bed and the alcove wall was straight even though the house had a gable roof. Annika had not thought about it before. But the window, she was now staring at, would lead to a space behind the alcove wall. There was nothing there as far as she knew. No space, no room, no way to access it. Why the window then? Annika could see only black behind the window. She trembled from the cold.

Annika rushed inside, kicked the wellies off and ran upstairs. Anna met her at the end of the stairs. The girl was rubbing her eyes from sleep. The long, blond hair was in a messy braid.

“Why are you making so much noise, mom?” She asked.

“No reason. Go downstairs, I’ll be there in a minute to make you some breakfast. I need to take care of one thing first”, Annika said and went to the bedroom. She jumped on to the bed in the alcove and knocked the wall. Did it sound hollow? Annika moved to another wall, knocked it and the sound was different. She went through all the walls. Alcove wall, behind which was a space with a window, sounded more hollow than the other walls in the bedroom. Then she tried to find an access point to the space, a door or a hatch. She checked the walls, the floor and the ceiling. Nothing. She sighed and sat on the bed.

*

“Honey, that’s a decorative window!” Tom yelled. He stared at Annika as if she had gone mad.

“But what’s behind it?”

“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing behind it, Annika. Decorative windows were put in houses in order to make the facade to look symmetrical. So that there would be an even number of windows. That window is identical to the window at the other end, there, where the office is”, Tom explained.

“But in the office, the wall continues all the way down, you can see the window from inside, as well. Why is the bedroom wall straight?” Annika challenged annoyed.

“Because there’s an alcove for the bed. Otherwise there would be an impractical space between the bed and the wall. And the ceiling would be too low. You would hit your head in it every time you got up from the bed”, Tom laughed. Annika was upset. She felt so stupid.

“Of course. I was thinking that maybe you can access the space through the attic”, She whispered.

“What attic? There is no attic. Annika, please. You’ve heard too many scary stories and your mind is playing tricks on you. I’m worried”, Tom said genuine. He wrapped his arms around his wife.

“I’ve been thinking about those secret pathways, too. What if they’re real? That could explain why I’ve been hearing someone in the house. Someone could be coming in through the secret pathways”, Annika went on. That was a mistake. She could see the angry look on Tom’s face.

“Stop”, the man said and dropped his arm.

“Stop right now. Why are you doing this? That old hag is talking nonsense. I don’t like that she’s scaring you when you’re already afraid of being in the house alone. There’s nothing wrong in the rectory. Furthermore, you’re scaring Anna too”, Tom scolded.

“Sorry”, Annika whispered. She was surprised for how stubbornly Tom was against her. Why was Tom not interested in getting to the bottom of this? Usually, he was the one playing detective.

“Promise me, you’ll let this go”, the man demanded.

“I promise”, Annika answered.

But come morning, she walked in the house knocking walls, looking for secret ways for someone to move in and out of the house.

*

Then it happened. The worst that any parent could imagine. Anna disappeared. She was playing outside, in the yard. Annika was keeping an eye on her through the kitchen window as she prepared food. She could see the old oak tree and the wooden swing tied to it. In one moment, Anna was swinging with a red teddy on her hand and the next, she was gone.

Annika had ran outside, shouting for the girl, searching around the house. Then she ran both ways on the street, finally ended up at the cemetery. At the cemetery, she saw an unnamed grave with a white cross on it. In the ground lay Anna’s red teddy bear. Annika picked up the bear and ran inside to call the police.

“You found the toy at the cemetery, right?” The same police woman asked Annika, who had been in the house before.

“Yes. And just few days ago, I saw someone standing in the cemetery. A man. Tall, dark, wearing a long, black jacket. He didn’t seem to be visiting. He just stood there, staring at the house. He was not standing on any specific grave”, Annika explained.

“Do you believe, he was keeping an eye on the house, maybe stalking Anna?” The constable cocked her head.

“I don’t know. There was something odd about him.”

“Did you get a look at his face? Can you give a more detailed description?” The police asked.

“No, I didn’t see his face. It was hidden under a black hood”, Annika answered in despair.

“Please, you have to find Anna, she’s not familiar with the area yet”, Annika pleaded.

“We’ll do everything in our power. We take this very seriously. Even though, Anna would’ve wandered away herself and there was no crime involved, we’re still in a hurry. The nights are getting really cold”, the other police calmed her. He was standing in front of the kitchen window.

Right then, there was noise from the front door, locks being opened, and then Tom almost fell inside.

“What’s new? Have you found her?”

Annika shook her head. Tears were burning behind her eyes.

Ruth came right away when she heard about the disappearance. The old woman made Annika coffee and sandwiches in the rectory’s kitchen. She seemed familiar with it and had no problem finding what she needed. Annika sat by the table hopeless. She and Tom had searched the nearby areas for three hours. Then the police had instructed them to go home and rest and let the police do their work. Tom forced Annika to obey but stayed himself a while longer. George was worried and offered to take Annika’s place while she rested. The dogs had picked up the scent in the yard and the cemetery but lost it soon.

“I remember what it was like when Dan went missing. Oh, my heart broke in to million pieces. I kept looking for him for months, even after the police gave up. They gave up too early. I know, Dan is still alive. A mother knows. What do you feel inside?” Ruth talked to Annika.

“I don’t know”, Annika answered truthfully. Maybe she was missing a mother’s instinct, the faith that Ruth clearly possessed. She honestly had no clue what could have happened to Anna. Was she safe or in danger? Annika’s heart could not tell.

“Well, I know. Anna is safe. I know it. The police will find her soon, don’t worry”, the old woman consoled Annika in a soft voice.

“Did you find the attic yet?” Ruth asked suddenly. Annika lifted her head and looked at the woman. She was staring out the window, her back facing Annika.

“Why do you ask? I told you, the rectory has no attic.”

“Yes…

It’s happening again. Samhain is near. Did you know that the web dividing the world of the living and the world of the dead is at it’s thinnest at the Samhain night. That’s why evil spirits possess the weak-minded”, Ruth muttered.

“What’s going to happen? Ruth, you’re scaring me.”

“He’s possessed again. It’s like that every year. You should’ve never moved into the rectory”, Ruth stated. Annika shook her head and suddenly she wished that the old woman would leave.

Ruth stood silent for a long time, then she turned to face Annika and smiled.

“I’m sorry. Do you want more coffee?”

*

The night fell and Anna had not been found. Annika could not get any sleep that night. The old, 70’s alarm clock ticked on the end table loudly. How could Annika have ever slept in that noise? Every now and then, Annika got up and walked to the window. She kept wishing that any moment she would see Anna standing in the yard. Tom did not sleep either, he kept rolling in the bed restlessly.

“Did you hear something?” Annika asked Tom abruptly.

“No, I did not”, Tom answered and sat up. He looked at his wife, standing there in the moonlight. The pale light painted Annika’s face blue. She looked sick. Tom noticed, that the woman had lost weight during past weeks.

“Come to bed”, Tom pleaded in a soft voice.

“As if I heard scratching”, Annika said and rubbed her arms.

“Mice. I’ve forgotten to place traps. I’ll do that in the morning”, Tom said. Annika nodded and returned to bed but the anxiety did not subside. Why did not Tom believe her, even though, she was sure something weird was going on in the rectory. Or had she really imagined everything? Was she going insane?

The night passed slowly. When the first rays of light came, Annika was standing in the hallway with her wellies and the quilted jacket on, ready. Tom was forced to go to work as the hospital had not found a substitute. Tom had no choice. Annika felt annoyed.

Outside it was sprinkling again and the ground, covered in mist, shined from the water drops. Annika listened patiently as the leading police explained what they had done and where they had searched. During the morning, the police moved further from the house widening the search area. Come midday, Annika sat in the kitchen at lunch time and could not see a single policeman anywhere. She felt like no one was even looking for her daughter. She sighed, poured the coffee from the mug in to the sink, she could not even drink. Then she put on her jacket, that had been resting on the heater, but was still moist. She put on the red wellies and went back outside.

She walked to the cemetery, something was calling her there.

But there was no one there. The police had searched the cemetery several times already. Annika huffed and turned to get back but then her eyes met the decorative window and she saw it. All the blood escaped from her face an she heard herself gasp in horror.

There was a child at the window. Anna? She was pounding the glass with her hands but it made no noise. Annika was so far away she could not make out Anna clearly but seemed as if she was screaming.

This is not real, it can’t be, Annika prayed in her mind. She ran back to the house in panic. She had never ran so fast. She breathed heavily and tears ran on to her cheeks. She felt as if her heart was being ripped from her chest.

Annika ran inside and did not bother to take off the wet wellies. She leaped up the stairs and headed to the bedroom. She jumped on the bed and the wet clothes dripped water on the sheets. She banged the wall and yelled.

“ANNA! ANNA! Answer me!”

No answer. Annika pulled the bed out and searched the wall with her hands. There had to be a way in if Anna had gotten there. She wept and the tears blurred her vision.

Then Annika stopped. She could hear it again. Scratching. This time it was louder, more screechy.

“Anna?!” Annika screamed. The scratching grew louder. Annika thought, she had heard something else too, as if someone had whispered mommy.

“Anna, honey! Stay calm. I’ll get you out in no time”, Annika cried. Right then the scratching stopped. Annika was thinking hard how could she break the wall. Then she remembered, that they kept tools in the shed that was connected to the garage. She ran to the stairs, then outside and to the shed. She spotted a big hatchet. She picked it up unhesitant. The hatchet weight more than Annika had imagined but she lifted it with both hands and went back into the house. It sounded like a car pulled up to the driveway behind her but she had no time to look who was coming.

She was running up the stairs with the hatchet in her hands and as she reached the last step she heard from behind her:

“Annika? What are you doing?”

Annika turned and saw Tom standing at the bottom of the stairs with a worried look in his face.

“Anna. I found Anna. She’s behind the bedroom wall. I need to break the wall”, Annika wailed breathless. Tom stared at her. There was something new in his eyes. They reflected disappointment.

“Annika... I just got a call from the police. They have found Anna...”

*

The entire drive to the hospital, Tom was haunted by the image of Annika with a hatchet in her hands. Annika had been visibly confused. Her face had looked gray and disturbed, her whole stature had indicated pure terror. What had Annika thought she had seen? Was his wife sick? What should he do about it?

The police had called Tom and informed that Anna had been found alive. Why had they said alive and not unharmed? When they were driving, the police had called again and told that Anna had been delivered to the same hospital Tom worked at. Tom had missed his daughter by a minute. Tom parked the car and they rushed in. The shock that followed, when they heard what had happened, was way worse than the initial fear of the disappearance.

“Buried alive? What do you mean?!” Tom yelled in shock. All the color had left his face. Annika was terrified. Had Ruth said something about burying children alive? The vicar had done so, right? But it was over a hundred years ago…

“We found Anna at the west side of the cemetery, in the forest. She was barely in cemetery’s property. Buried inside a wooden coffin. We were lucky to find her in time but it must’ve been an extremely traumatizing experience for Anna. She had scratched the coffin’s cover until her fingers had bled and her nails had come off. I’m so sorry. I’ve never witnessed anything like it during my entire career”, the police explained shaking his head. He was near retirement and his hair was gray. His eyes showed a genuine compassion towards the parents.

Annika just sat there staring without seeing. She was empty. She did not know what to feel. Had she known, after all? Had felt it like Ruth did? That was why she heard scratching behind the wall. Now, that she thought of it, the sound could have come from little nails and fingers. But Anna had not been behind that wall but in a coffin, in the ground. The holy ground, in the cemetery’s ground. That was what Ruth had told her. That the evil spirits would not look in the ground where their own bodies lay.

“Who would be so disturbed? Who would do that to our little girl? We don’t know anyone here, I don’t understand”, Tom said and burst into tears. Annika could not cry, she got no tears. She was numb.

“We don’t know. I can’t believe it myself, either. But we will do everything in our power to figure it out, I promise”, he said and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Thank you”, Tom whispered.

*

The next following couple weeks were extremely difficult. Anna had been severely traumatized, she had stopped talking. In addition to that, she seemed to be terrified of men, even Tom. Anna followed her mother everywhere and the once so lively and talkative girl was now completely mute. Anna received therapy and the her therapist speculated that maybe the person who had buried Anna alive had been a man and that was the reason Anna now feared men. She reckoned too, that Anna had been told to shut up or something horrible would happen as that could explain why Anna so stubbornly refused to talk. The doctor had stated that Anna had no physical reason to not being able to talk.

Annika heard even more noises in the house now and Anna heard them too as she would get panic attacks whenever there was scratching coming from the walls or the floor boards creaked as if someone was stepping on them. Tom did not believe Annika, though, as the noises were never heard when he was at home and Anna refused to talk so Annika had no way of proving that the girl heard them too. Annika was terrified of the rectory, the old, romantic, beautiful mansion. She felt more fragile everyday. She had lost a lot of weight and all her clothes were sagging. Tom urged Annika to see a psychiatrist but Annika refused every time the subject was brought up.

Ruth visited almost everyday. They made stitch work together, baked together and had nice walks together. The rain had turned into snowfall again and a crunchy coat of snow covered the ground, the branches of the trees glistened white. George helped them by shoveling the snow from their yard too, Tom had no time and Annika was too tired to do that. They were greatly thankful for everything the old couple did for them.

“It was near Samhain when our Daniel went missing, much like Anna”, Ruth explained while they were walking. Red-headed waxwing flew over them and sat on the branch of a rowan tree to eat the red berries.

“Oh”, Annika said. The disappearances had decades between them. Could the perpetrator be the same? No, not likely. And Daniel was never found. Maybe he was alive as his mother believed. Maybe he had ran away willingly and was living his live somewhere on the other side of the world.

“Yeah, and it was always on Samhain that the old mister went insane. They were the evil spirits that the vicar had warned about. God help us all, how will we make it through the night”, Ruth murmured. She looked absent. Right then Annika realized the next night was 31^st of October.

“Ruth, there’s no attic in the rectory but could you be mistaken? Maybe it wasn’t the attic, maybe the child was left behind the bedroom wall, in the upstairs?” Annika suggested. Anna was walking right behind them and Annika did not know whether she was listening. Annika did not want to talk about these things in front of her already traumatized daughter but Anna did not seem to react in any way. The girl had developed a very peculiar habit of keeping her eyes on Ruth all times, though. She could not take her eyes off Ruth as if she was somehow guarding the old woman. Anna had behaved like that ever since her disappearance. She must have been severely traumatized, indeed.

“No, I think it was in the attic”, Ruth said.

“And the wife, mister hit her with a hatchet. That happened in the stairs, right? Yeah, she rolled down the stairs, I recall”, Ruth went on. Annika shook her head. Ruth’s story could not be true, what was she thinking. And there was nothing behind the bedroom wall. It’s just a decorative window. Tears rose to Annika’s eyes and she quickly wiped them away.

“Why don’t we return to home and make some hot chocolate?” Annika proposed. She could almost imagine Anna getting excited and start yelling happily but Anna just kept her eyes on Ruth and continued to walk slowly as if no one had ever mention the sugary treat. Annika did not recognize her daughter like that.

*

Tom was working a night shift. Annika had put Anna to bed and was sitting on the couch reading a book. Outside the snow illuminated the scene and it was bizarrely dark and light at the same time. Everything was painted by a pale blue hue, balmy gleam of the moon. Annika felt calm. Yesterday the therapist had heard Anna talking to herself when she had been alone in the playroom. The therapist had observed the girl through a two-way mirror. Anna had been playing with toys and talking as them.

“Would you like some coffee Nana-bear? Thank you, Barbie.”

The therapist had pointed out that Anna did not play with the male dolls. But the fact that Anna had talked proved that she was able to do so and would probably start talking normally at some point in the future. Annika felt relieved. Anna also tolerated Tom better, even though, she did not want dad to touch her yet.

The therapist had told Annika, that Anna had said something odd too. She had pressed her finger on the teddy bear’s snout and whispered:

“Now, we stay silent, very, very silent, don’t make even a peep. Otherwise he’ll come and kill us.”

Hearing that, Annika had burst into tears. What horrors had her daughter played witness to?

Suddenly, Annika heard a noise from the corner of the living-room. As if someone was rustling the wall. Annika stood up slowly, moved closer and listened. The sound came behind the wall.

Mice.

No, it did not sound like mice. Annika moved the dresser further from the wall so she had better access to it. Then she fumbled the wall with her hands. She felt nothing out of ordinary. She knocked on the wall. Then she found it!

At that spot the wall sounded hollow. Annika kept pushing the wall with her hands and tried leaning on it with her shoulder. Nothing. Then she tugged the wall and tried to move it from different places. All of a sudden, the wall slid open and behind it in the dark stood a figure. Annika backed away screaming.

From the darkness stepped forward a hunched over, skinny and small figure. It took a few seconds before Annika recognized her.

“Ruth?!” Annika gasped surprised. The old woman’s eyes looked fierce, her expression odd. She seemed as if she did not know where she was. Something about her had changed, Annika did not recognize this Ruth.

“Shh... We need to stay quiet or he’ll find us”, Ruth whispered. Annika stared at her aghast.

“Why are you here? How did you get behind the wall?” Annika asked in a hushed voice.

“These secret pathways were build inside the rectory a long time ago. They say, that the vicar feared evil spirits who possessed weak-minded during Samhain night. The possessed people would become very dangerous during the dark. That’s why the vicar built secret pathways in the house, to escape them. Only he knew about the paths. All an old wife’s tale but what do you know, I found the hidden pathways! They were real after all! These tunnels go everywhere in the house and all the way to the cemetery. There’s a mausoleum from which you can get in. I have the key”, Ruth explained in a rush. Her eyes shined blue and green in the moonlight and her face looked unfamiliar. Shivers crawled through Annika’s spine. It had been Ruth all along, walking in the house, scaring Annika. Why had Ruth not said anything? Did she remember coming to the house or was she so confused she forgot later?

“Oh, Ruth. Of course, if anyone were to find secret paths it had to be you. But you must go home now, you shouldn’t come here uninvited”, Annika’s voice was soft. The old woman made Annika feel pity for her.

“No, no, he’s possessed. Mister will come soon. He’ll kill us if he finds us”, Ruth shook her head furiously. Her whole body was shaking.

“Ruth, you’re safe. There’s no one here”, Annika said and took Ruth’s hands into her own. Right then she heard small feet behind her. She turned her head and saw Anna standing there in her nightgown at the living-room doorway. The little girl stared at Ruth with her eyes wide open and lifted her finger to point at her.

“DAN! Dan, you’ve come back!” Ruth yelled and started to move towards the girl. Anna backed off in fear.

“That’s not Dan. That’s Anna. Do you remember Anna, Ruth?” Annika tried to correct her but Ruth approached Anna and kept talking to her as if she was Daniel. Ruth was disorderly, she was so confused. Annika had never seen her like that. She gets more restless every year at the time of the anniversary of Dan’s disappearance, Annika remembered George saying.

“I’ll call George and he can come get you”, Annika said to Ruth. Hearing that Ruth turned around and started screaming on the top of her lungs. Like a little child. Anna pressed her hands against her ears. Annika grabbed Ruth’s arms and tried to calm her but to no avail. Annika could not make her stop and eventually she did not know what else to do but call an ambulance.

Ruth kept screaming but stopped when the nurses came in the house. She silenced and went limp. The nurses lift her on to the stretcher. Annika was shaking. She had been startled good. Anna sat in the corner of the room, she had been frightened too.

“Ruth, my old buddy”, an older, nice male nurse greeted Ruth.

“You’ll get to rest with us a little. We’ll have a nice coffee tomorrow, right? Everything is fine, don’t worry”, he continued talking to Ruth. Annika stared at him feeling stupid.

“Ruth is a regular guest. She’s been staying in the hospital for a few days once or twice a year since her accident”, the man explained when he noticed Annika’s face.

“Accident? I thought Ruth had Alzheimer’s.”

“No, no. She has a brain injury caused by an accident. She fell in the stairs years ago and hit her head on something sharp, the damage was severe. I’m not entirely sure what happened, I started working here a while after”, the nurse explained kindly. Then he pushed the stretchers out the door. Annika ran after them outside, in to the snow without shoes. Her socks got wet immediately and her toes froze but she did not care.

“Excuse me, I have one question… Ruth, how did you know about the secret pathways? How do you know the rectory so well? All that happened here?”

Ruth looked her straight in the eyes.

“I used to live here.”

Annika’s heart skipped a beat.

“You lived in the rectory?” Annika could not believe it. Right then it hit her. She suddenly realized what had been so familiar about the man standing in the cemetery. He had resembled George a lot. How Annika did not notice that before?

“Yes. And please apologize to Anna on my behalf. I put her in the coffin just to hide her from the mister. I saw him chase Anna. He got her for a while but the girl fought back and got free. The teddy bear was dropped in the hustle. Anna ran and I got her. I put her in the coffin in order to hide her from him. Like the vicar had done in the past. I hid her in the holy grounds. I told her to stay very quiet. I knew the police would find her eventually but he would not. He wouldn’t dare to look in the holy ground.”

Blood escaped from Annika’s face. Had Ruth really been the one who buried Anna alive? How deranged was she! She could not have known for sure that the police would find Anna. Annika felt anger and disgust as well as pity and a tearing agony. The pieces of the puzzle came slowly together in her head.

*

The edge of the hatchet shined in the moonlight as Annika held it in her hands once again while getting up the stairs. The bedroom wall. She would go through it one way or another. She had a bad hunch.

Annika swung the hatchet into the wall. The wooden board on the wall surface splintered and the wallpaper tore but the hatchet did not break the thicker wood. She pulled the hatchet free and hit again, this time it went through. She yanked it free with all the force she had, then hit again and again. Annika got tired real fast and she had to sit down to rest. There were only a few cracks on the wall. It would take a long time to get through but Annika would do it, no matter what. She continued. It took almost two hours for her to make a big enough opening to fit through the wall and get to the other side. She crawled to the dusty, dark space behind the wall. It was a small room. The moonlight pouring in from the decorative window formed shadowy, tall and still figures of tree trunks on the walls. In the bright darkness Annika could make out a small shape leaning against the wall. A skeleton, dried out body of a little boy who had been hidden there for decades. He had been nine years old, Annika knew. She had never believed in ghosts but she quickly started to change her mind about that. She had seen the boy in the window. It had not been Anna, after all.

“Daniel.”

Then she noticed. On the wall, she had broken through, there were scratches. Bloodstained marks left by tiny, desperate fingernails. How long had it taken until the boy tired and accepted his faith, sitting down and slowly starving to death inside these walls. How long had he banged on the thick window glass of a window that was carefully lined from the sides so you could not open it. And no one had heard or seen him. And to this day, his mother believed he was alive somewhere, even though, he had been buried inside the walls of the rectory this entire time.