We had the sweetest little boy, full of giggles and smiles. Never-ending energy that was contagious and made parenting for Melanie and me easygoing. We were certain the moment would arrive any day now, those first words. Would they be Mama, Dada, milk? But as the months passed, we grew frustrated. No words rolled off his tongue. I would literally stare at Nolan for thirty minutes face-to-face and sound out words over and over, making exaggerated motions with my mouth. I could see him trying to say something, but nothing would surface.
One year settled into our new home, I was desperate for help and guidance.
“Melanie, this is really scaring me. What if he never learns how to speak? We need someone to help us. I mean, he is almost two years old!”
Melanie shrugged me off and filled her cup with water. “You know kids develop differently. I’m sure he will pick it up soon. We are doing everything we should be doing. Try not to stress so much.”
“I’m going to talk to the neighbors. We’ve been here like a year and haven’t even met anyone of them yet. Maybe some of them have kids.”
While the block we resided on was sparsely populated, I had occasionally seen an older couple sitting on their front porch as I drove by. They were the next house over, so I walked over to introduce myself.
Knock Knock Knock
A tall, bald man peered through the screen door. “Not interested.”
“I’m sorry. I’m—”
“We don’t have no money to spend, can barely keep the house together.”
“I’m not selling anything. I’m your next-door neighbor, Kurt.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I apologize. I should have come over sooner. Life just gets busy. I’m sure you know how it is.”
“The name is Herbert. We don’t have much to offer, but your welcome to come inside for a few if you’d like.”
I followed Herbert into the living room, where a woman who I imagined was his wife, sat stone-faced on the couch. She didn’t even acknowledge me when Herbert sat me across from her.
“This is my other half, Sally. Doesn’t say much these days.”
I glanced around the room and noticed a wooden rocking horse toy in the corner. “Do you have kids?”
Sally’s eyes watered and the slightest hint of a strangled sob came forth. “Tucker. My little boy.”
“He’s been gone a long time. Do you know about the boy who lived in your house?” Herbert asked.
I shook my head. “We don’t know anything about who used to live there, other than the childless couple we purchased it from.”
“A boy named Horace, a mute kid but good at hearing. It was…” Herbert took a long, drawn-out breath. “Right around when our Tucker turned five that they first got together. We were watching them play together in the backyard. I guess you can say Horace grew jealous of the fact that our son could talk but he couldn’t. One of the mornings they were down near the creek while Sally and I were unloading some bags from the truck.”
Herbert took out a handkerchief and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. My own hands clammed up at the anticipation of what he was about to tell me.
“They were within our sight, but a little too far away to make out the details. It wasn’t until I heard Tucker wail, that we knew something was wrong. When we got to our boy, we noticed a pool of blood coming out of his mouth. I looked at Horace, and he was holding pliers. That damn kid had cut out Tucker’s tongue. Lost enough blood to pass right there in front of us.”
My stomach churned with unease. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”
“When Horace’s parents found out about what he had done, it put them over the edge. They were not able to cope. Weeks later, the police cars arrived with their sirens going off, so I stepped out to see what the commotion was all about. I came to find out that Horace’s parents put a little poison in his soup. All of their soups in fact. Entire family went out together, just like that.”
I was at a loss for words. The fact that a family of three had all died in our home under such disturbing circumstances made me sick.
“I know it ain’t the kind of story you were hoping to hear when you stepped foot inside our home this morning, but it’s important that you know.” Herbert stood up. “I’ll show you out.”
As I walked back to our house, I debated whether to share the gruesome story with Melanie. It would disturb her deeply, so I refrained from mentioning it. Herbert’s tale stuck with me though. I could not shake it off. Around midnight, I quietly crawled out of bed without waking Melanie, and I sat outside on the front porch. I heard a whimper from Nolan’s room. He had been sleeping smoothly through the night at this point, so the noise caught me by surprise.
I grabbed the baby monitor from our bedroom and turned it on. There appeared to be a small figure inside the crib with Nolan. “What the…” I whispered.
I clicked the zoom in button. Nolan’s mouth was open, and it looked like there was someone else’s hand reaching inside his mouth. I tiptoed over to Nolan’s room next door and slowly pulled the door open. I leaned in over the crib. A ghostly face waited for me. A small boy sat inside the crib, his right hand inside of Nolan’s mouth, preventing him from making too much noise. I shrieked and fell to the floor, waking up Nolan in the process.
“Too loud. He will hear you,” the kid murmured, as he hopped over the crib and came close to my face. “I’m helping you. I just want to help.”
I jumped up and flipped on the light switch. The kid vanished. Nolan was screaming, so I picked him up to comfort him. Melanie came running in.
“What is going on here? It’s the middle of the night,” she slurred.
“There… there was someone else in here with him,” I said, shaking and sweating.
“Well, then where did he go? Maybe you were sleepwalking.” Melanie looked annoyed and snatched Nolan from me.
From that night forward, my senses were on heightened alert. If the floor creaked, I went to investigate. When shadows flickered across our living room curtains, I pulled them to the side and made sure it was just a tree branch outside illuminating the curtains. But paying close attention to Nolan was my main priority. Melanie was so irritated by my mysterious behavior that I finally told her the story about Horace.
One morning while she was out getting groceries and left me to watch Nolan, I closed the curtains and made the living room as dark as possible. I sat on the couch and studied Nolan as he wandered around the room. Nolan picked up a toy train and tried to hand it to me. And as Nolan’s mouth widened and the faint hint of a word rolled off his tongue, I saw him. The other kid. Next to Nolan preventing him from speaking. His hand wedged in his mouth. Dark eyes connected with mine.
“He’s close by, don’t let him hear your son,” the ghostly figure said.
“Who are you?” I murmured. Seeing Nolan squirm made me tense up. I rose off the couch and lunged at the ghost. “You need to get away from my son!” I yelled. The kid stormed off into the kitchen and disappeared.
“Dad… dada!” Nolan said and giggled, waiting for me to react to his first words.
I hugged him. “Good job, son. I’m your dada.”
The house rumbled, causing Nolan to wiggle free from my arms and run off behind the island counter in the middle of the kitchen.
Thump
I thought Nolan may have just fallen over, but when I made it over to him, I saw another ghostly figure standing tall like a tree, towering over Nolan. The kid wore overalls that were covered with dirt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some pliers.
“No, this can’t be happening. Horace?” I yelled.
As I reached forward to grab Nolan, Horace yanked him away from me and dragged him to the back door that led to the backyard. I chased after him, but it was a lost cause.
Horace reached into Nolan’s mouth and clipped off his tongue, flinging it into the air with a sinister grin on his face as he eyed me to see my reaction. I lunged at Horace, but I went right through him like he wasn’t even there. Horace vanished while I tended to Nolan.
Nolan survived but things have not been the same since the incident. Melanie continues to question what really happened. She doesn’t believe there were ghosts present. She thinks Nolan accidentally cut himself while I was not paying attention. She blames me.
And it hurts. I know what I saw. And I’m doing everything in my power to get us to hopefully sell the house and find a new place to live. Now, I just need to decide whether I want to tell our next-door neighbors that I saw their deceased son.