Nora crept up to the four-panel door, setting her satin shoes down in a deliberate toe-first movement to prevent the antique floorboards from creaking. As soon as she was close enough, she steeled her nerves and reached out to take hold of the crystal doorknob her grandmother had so loved when she was alive.
She hesitated. Could she really do this? Could she really confront the family secret in the spare bedroom after all these years?
But she had to. After what happened at the party tonight…
Nora eased the doorknob clockwise. A stiff resistance stopped it after only a fraction of an inch. Locked. She would need some other way in.
Nora still had her purse over her shoulder. It was an impractical velvet one, just big enough for her keys and a few cards. Gingerly unsnapping it, she removed her platinum card.
She had seen this done a hundred times, and even done it herself once while drunk. She slipped the credit card into the gap between the antique wood of the door and the doorframe.
With a quick zipping sound, the card yanked out from her grip and slid inside the bedroom, as if being accepted by an ATM machine. So, the beast knew she was here.
She needed Plan C.
Because now that the beast knew that she was trying to get in, it would be coming for her next. Six people dead, a generation of her family quietly pretending a bedroom didn’t exist. It had to end. Nora had to do something. Anything. Even if it was stupid.
Nora pulled herself up to her full height, and placed her left had on the wall opposite the door, under the daguerreotype of her great-great grandfather. She shifted her weight to her left foot. She told herself it was just like kickboxing.
Her kick landed precisely on the keyhole. The doorframe gave way, and the door slammed open.
The beast — taller and greyer than Nora remembered — reared up, venom dripping off its fangs. It stared at her with its charcoal eyes widening.
“Get out, now!” Nora barked.
The beast took two steps back, raising an arm to shield itself from Nora’s vitrol. Never had someone challenged it directly.
“That’s it!” Nora commanded. “It’s over. You, leave now!”
The beast blinked twice, and then emitted a piteous whine.
And then, it dissolved into dust that twinkled in the slotted light leaking through the vertical blinds.
Nora would need to vacuum the Persian rug before anyone could use the room again. For that matter, she might just redecorate the whole room.
Because, after all, the family secret was now gone.
If only all her problems would go away so easily.
Nora went back downstairs to rejoin the rest of the family.
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©2010 Patricia Court
Patricia Court is very pleased to be appearing in Flashes in the Dark. She originally hails from Connecticut, but these days resides in California.
Tags: Patricia Court
August 2nd, 2010 at 8:13 am
I almost feel bad for that whimpering gray Boogeyman.
Fine, liitle tale you’ve written.
August 2nd, 2010 at 12:02 pm
Thanks, Angel. I’ve always enjoyed your stories here, too.
August 3rd, 2010 at 4:29 pm
Nice story, Patricia! It reminded me of a story my Grandmother use to tell me. However, in her version the protagonist didn’t make it. Once again, nice story!
August 3rd, 2010 at 8:19 pm
Chad, thank you! I guess whether the protagonist lives or dies sort of depends on the storyteller’s views about how bad family secrets actually are and how important they are to keep….
August 10th, 2010 at 10:48 am
I found myself very interested in this story. I liked the antique feel of it. Would have liked a bit more of a fight. How was it so easy for Nora but not for the others in her family. Was she just more determined? Great story! Very well written and engaging.
August 10th, 2010 at 7:19 pm
Nicci, thanks! This piece was very experimental for me. I wanted to see if the story would be more interesting if I left exactly those questions unanswered, or if it would cause the whole thing to fall flat. I love to hear what readers think!