She lives at Sunny Smiles in a retirement home in Red Pine, Colorado, a quaint mountain-town out in the White River National Forest area. If you like camping, Red Pine is the best kept secret in the state. It’s only a short drive away from the Bells. Shaded, beautiful camping spots tuck away behind dense Aspen woodlands and curved roads that make you forget you’re within arm’s reach of the town if you find yourself in need of some supplies. That’s how I stumbled upon Sunny Smiles for the first time a decade back.
The thing is huge, its crisp white paint sticks out like a lighthouse. If you could get past that distinct smell of near-death that accumulates in homes for the elderly, the inside was a palace. Vaulted ceilings with golden trim held up by pillars taken straight from Ancient Greece and crisp dark red carpeting lined a pathway to the large wooden desk. The lady at the front desk offered me a tour. They sold me on it before we even made it back to the lobby.
So when my mom developed dementia a decade later, I convinced my dad to move her in there. It was a fight, to be sure. Dad didn’t like the idea of living separately from my mom. I couldn’t blame him. They’d been together for nearly 50 years. But, thankfully, my dad has always been a rational person. He knew that day was coming. I don’t think it made him hate it any less. But once I got my dad into the place and talking to the staff, he knew. He even ended up selling his house and moving closer to Aspen, just to be closer to her.
I admit I haven’t gotten around to visiting her as much as I, or she, would like. Mom isn’t shy to hide that from me. But it’s an hour out of my way, and even harder in the winter. I justified it because I thought she’d be happy there. I struggled to imagine otherwise. She was living better than I was. Besides, the first few times I came to see her, she raved about the place. Good food, friendly staff, tons of activities and freedom to roam. Dad could visit as much as he wanted. She had even made friends.
“Oh stop, Frank, you know I’m married,” Mom said, unable to hide a blush. I forced a smirk onto my face. After forty-something years of marriage to my dad, it was uncomfortable to watch someone so blatantly flirt with her. But man, you wouldn’t believe how much they flirt. All of them, with everybody. Except my mom, thank God. It’s a goddamn sorority house in there.
A muscled young nurse walked by and shook his head at the scene. “Give it up, Frank, you old dog,” he said. Frank loosed a boyish giggle, keeping his attention fixed on my mom.
“I’ll get you up here someday.” Frank winked, a huge grin plastered onto his cheeks. “Marie?” He turned and held his hand out, which was filled a moment later by Marie’s thin, wrinkled fingers. Frank spun her slowly, as well as the older folks can, and whistled while she turned. Together they danced, humming an old tune between giggles and smiles.
Down on the other end of the lobby, a thin, elderly woman joined along in humming the song, rocking and swaying in her seat, her eyes closed, holding a raggedy brown teddy bear.
Across from me, an old grandfather clock chimed three o’clock, and everyone froze. Not just Frank, Marie, and my mom, but everyone else in the lobby. Frank’s smile had faded to a gentle grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“See y’all at dinner?” The group nodded and muttered goodbyes to each other. The lobby was completely empty in less than five minutes.
Back in her room, my mom handed me a cup of hot tea, which I stirred in my hands for a few long moments, lost in thought. “Mom, what was that?”
“What was what, dear?” She asked, taking a sip of tea as she sat down in a pink antique chair across from me.
“Why did everyone leave so suddenly?”
“Oh, it’s nothing really. Frank and Marie like to take naps around this time. It’s routine.” A single loud knock cracked on a door in the hall outside the room. Mom smiled gently. “I appreciate you coming down here to meet my friends.”
I chuckled. “Frank sure is something.” I resisted calling him “Mr. Frank.” Despite being in my mid-forties, it still took a deliberate effort to call my mom’s friends by their first name. Mom blushed again.
Another knock echoed through the empty hall outside. One door closer. In a blink and you’ll miss it moment, my mom’s eyes flickered towards the door before landing back on mine. I planted the best imitation of school-yard mockery into my voice before pressing my mom further on Frank. “So… you like him?”
“Sure, Steve. He makes me happy. But… not like that. I still love your dad.” Her face lit up at the mere mention of him. “Look at those beautiful flowers he left!” It was the same arrangement of flowers that my dad came and dropped off every few weeks, but she loved them every time. Honestly, I found it pretty incredible. Over 40 years of marriage, and they still beam at each other like newlyweds. I hope dementia doesn’t take that from them.
A knock rang out against Mom’s door. Her eyes widened. I rose out of my seat to grab the door. Before I could take a step, my mom’s voice pierced the air. “No!”
The sheer surprise of my mom screaming at me was enough to get me to stop moving. She had never yelled at me before. Dad, sure, but never Mom. Mom was gentle. Her next words came softer, but still firm. “Do not open that door.”
I heard her, and I wanted to listen, but I couldn’t move my hand away. Her voice sounded like she was speaking to me underwater. I was only a foot or two away from the door. I could feel waves of… something, some kind of pressure from outside the door pulsate into my head.
Whoever was outside knocked again. More waves of pressure pushed on my head until the corners of my vision went black. I could see my hand shaking. I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t move it. I couldn’t move anything.
“Steve.” My mom’s hand landed gently on my shoulder, and in a moment, everything faded and returned to normal. I gasped, realizing then I hadn’t been breathing. My heart thumped against my chest. My lungs burned. “Come sit.” I collapsed into my chair as my mom made her way back to her seat. She didn’t want to show it, but the encounter took a toll on her, too.
“Mom,” I said when I caught my breath enough to speak. “What was that?” Another knock rang out, one door further down the hallway, and I flinched. I hadn’t realized how afraid I was.
Mom stirred her tea and took a slow sip and a long sigh before answering. She knew the battle she was in for when she told me. “That was Clara. ‘The Red Pine Witch,’ as everyone calls her. You probably saw her earlier. The lady with the teddy bear?” I tried to interject, and she raised a hand. “Just listen, Steve. Please.” She took a moment before continuing. “Every day shortly after three she walks around to everyone’s doors. She’ll knock, kick, and try the door handle, but as long as I lock the door, she can’t get in. She’s quite an old woman, after all. After she’s done her rounds, she goes back to her room and sleeps. And that’s it. As long as you don’t let her in, nothing happens.”
I didn’t understand. What trouble could a single old lady cause? “Mom, what—” she raised her hand again.
“I know what you want to say. But you felt it. I know you did.” She was right. Something terrible had been outside that door. Something I’d never felt before. The Red Pine Witch. And my mom had felt it too.
All at once, my confusion and fear exploded into rage. “I’m getting you out of here right now.”
“No, Steve.” I grabbed her wrist anyway. “No!” A slap met my cheek, and I let go. My eyes widened. That afternoon had brought out so many things that I didn’t know existed in my mom. She had no apology in her eyes. “Sweet Steve, I know you want to fight. You’ve always been like your father. But I can’t leave. None of us can.” She sat me down again. I felt like a child throwing a tantrum. Mom sighed.
“I know this is hard to understand. It was hard for me too, at first. But everything will be fine, as long as I don’t let her in, and as long as I don’t leave.”
She changed the subject and refused to go back to it. I stayed and chatted for a bit until it was time for dinner, then she ushered me out of the residence. I saw Clara on my way out. She couldn’t have looked more harmless, hunched over and hobbling down the hallway, smacking her toothless gums excitedly in anticipation of her dinner. And still clutching that raggedy bear.
For reasons I didn’t understand, I only waited three days to come back. I told myself various things, the things that you’re supposed to say when your mom gets old.
“I don’t know how much time I have left with her,” or “love and family matters most,” stuff like that. I even told myself I was there to defend my mom, whatever that even meant.
But, in truth, I was driven by some kind of morbid, primal curiosity. I wanted to see Clara again. I had to know what I felt that day when she knocked on my mom’s door, and I wanted to feel it again. I had forgotten all the fear I felt in those moments, like it wasn’t even real, just a dream washed away by the morning light.
I understand better now. The Red Pine Witch had already seen me. Not for long, but long enough. And she didn’t want me to leave.
I arrived at Sunny Smiles shortly after two. I left extra time to make sure I would be there for Clara’s nap. Clara saw me as I walked in, waving at me with her teddy bear’s arm. I waved back and walked up to the front desk.
“Who are you here to see today?”
“Olivia Schroeder, room 160 I believe.” She clacked away on her computer, then frowned.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It seems you just missed her.”
“What?”
“Yeah, looks like someone checked her out just a couple of hours ago.” My heart stopped. My mom was gone. She left. Panic saturated my voice.
“I don’t understand. Who took her?” I knew the answer before I finished the sentence. Dad. Adrenaline pumped into my veins. I raced back to the front door and into my car. Clara was still waving at me as I left.
I called him the second I was on the road. Come on… pick up. I pressed the gas harder. It rang a few more times. My fingers gripped the wheel. Finally, I heard the line click.
“Hello?”
“Dad, did you check Mom out of Sunny Smiles?”
“Well, I’m great, Steve. Thanks for asking.”
“Did you?”
“I sure as hell did.” He sounded irritated. “They aren’t treating her right up there. She’s not well, son. She’s coming home where she belongs.”
“Dad, listen to me. Take her back right now.”
“And just why should I do that?” I stumbled for words, not sure how to communicate to my rational, atheist father about the demonic witch in a way that might actually convince him.
“It’s not safe for her.”
“Oh, Jesus, not you too.” He knew. He knew, and he didn’t believe it.
“Dad, listen to me. I know it sounds crazy. It sounded crazy to me too, but—”
“But nothing. She’s coming home, and she’s gonna get these crazy ideas out of her head. Can you imagine the nerve telling stories like that to a lady with dementia?” I could hear mom yelling in the background. Goddamn it, Dad.
“Dad—”
“Enough. I’ve heard enough. She’s my wife. This isn’t up for discussion.” The line clicked. Fuck. I glanced at the clock on my dash. 2:24. Just over half an hour until Clara takes her nap. I knew I wouldn’t make it in time, but I had to try.
I made it to my dad’s house at 3:07 pm. I pushed the key into the lock and slammed the door open, not knowing if I was already too late. My parents were in the living room, my mom sitting on the couch, and my dad standing a few feet away. My mom screamed when I came in.
“Steve? Goddamn it, I told you—” I ignored him and walked over to my mom, grabbing her wrist.
“Come on, Mom, I’m taking you back.” I’d never seen her so visibly scared.
“Steve—” she said.
“The hell you are.” My dad said. I turned to face him directly.
“Try and stop me.” I almost couldn’t believe the words left my mouth.
“Steve!” Mom said again, but Dad and I were too involved in our pissing contest to listen. Dad balled his fist. For a moment, I thought my dad might actually swing at me. Then I felt it. Waves of pressure pulsating into my body. Exactly like last time. But unlike last time, it was at least twice as strong. It shot pain into my brain stronger than any migraine I had ever had.
Dad felt it too. I could tell. He stopped yelling. His eyes widened.
“Steve!” Mom yelled again. Her voice sounded muffled and distant. “Steve! The door!”
I wheeled around. In my anger, I had left the front door wide open. I tried to make my way towards it, but I could hardly move, just like before. My legs shook. I pushed hard and managed a few steps, but I was still at least fifteen feet away. A sharp, piercing noise penetrated my ears as I got closer. My vision was going black once more. I kept my eyes focused on the doorknob. Just a few more feet. Finally, I was within range. I dove for the door, pushing it closed as I fell to the floor.
The instant the door shut, all the pressure and pain dissolved. I gasped for air. My lungs burned. I sat up, resting my back against the door, and looked at my mom. “Are you okay?” She nodded.
Dad had disappeared. I found my footing and locked the door before walking over to my mom.
“I think we need to go before Dad gets back.” To my surprise, she shook her head.
“It’s too late. She’s already here.” Not a moment later, a pair of knocks sounded against the front door.
Bang, bang.
The door handle squealed as Clara tried to turn the knob. I’d never been less certain I locked something in my life. The handle jiggled again and Clara turned the knob back and forth. Unable to get in, she banged the door twice more, louder this time.
Bang, bang.
This time, there was another sound. A shotgun being cocked. I wheeled around.
“Dad—” He had the barrel of the weapon planted into my chest before I could say another word. I raised my hands.
“I’ve had enough of this,” he said. I sat back slowly onto the couch next to Mom. He turned towards the front door.
“Dad, please don’t, you had to have felt—” but it was too late. He flicked the lock undone and opened the door, pointing the gun outside. I held my breath and squeezed my mom’s hand.
The moment the door opened, a chill ran through the room. The sound of Clara’s bare feet slapping the hardwood floor by the front door rang out. She plodded right past my dad, who didn’t move a muscle, still pointing his gun out the front door.
She stared at my mom. I wanted to get up, to put myself between her and my mom, to do anything, but it was useless. She had frozen me to the couch.
“No!” My dad had turned the gun towards her. Clara didn’t break her eyes away from my mom as she flicked a single finger into the air. My dad’s eyes widened for a moment as he drew the barrel of his own gun into the bottom of his jaw and fired.
My mom screamed. Clara continued her march towards us. I still couldn’t move. Tears streamed down my face as I watched pieces of my dad’s brain drip down the wall behind his body. Clara reached my mom, bending forward and grazing her cheek with a finger.
A moment later, Mom floated into the air. Her face contorted in a way I had never seen before. Utterly consumed by terror and helplessness. A red glow filled the room. I heard my mom scream. And then she was gone. Vanished into the air.
The Red Pine Witch didn’t look at me even once as she left. She simply turned and walked out, still holding that old, raggedy bear.