Mine

Being an au pair or nanny is the ideal job for many young women, but what if the child you cared for was already claimed by another?

Louisa, a willowy strawberry blonde in her early 20s, stepped out of the steaming hot sauna and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. She had overseen the nightly ritual, fed, and put to bed the two children of her employer, a widower who had to fight for several years to regain his children from his deceased wife's family in her homeland. It had been Louisa herself, who had been charged with going to the United States to pick up the 9 years old boy and 7 years old girl and escort them back to Europe to their father's home. She hadn't gotten a moment's peace since.

 

            Tonight, with the aid of a special medicine from an unmarked brown bottle, she had managed to get the troublesome duo into bed and asleep by 21:00. Really she did not agree with drugging children, but these children were profoundly disturbed and difficult, so unlike local children. Their father had had them both admitted to a local pediatric psychiatric ward several times since their arrival back in Europe. He had taken advantage of the excellent free universal Swiss health care system in a bad way to get powerful medicines, that even the corrupt corporate pharmaceutical racket in America would condone the use of, for subduing children. Often Louisa pitied the children as much as she feared them. They had been for nearly 3 years in a foreign country without either their mother or father, missing the former and taught to hate the latter. Their aura was so negative around them that it was almost creepy and unnerving. To care for them, to even be near them, was very draining for her. Secure in the knowledge that they would sleep for at least 10 hours without rousing though, Louisa had decided to pamper herself. She put on a plush dressing gown and poured herself a glass of Limoncello, an Italian lemon liqueur, which she took with her as she left her bedroom to go watch the snow through the huge bay window in the living room.

 

            She had just managed to grope her way about in the darkness to the living room when there was a sound like a heavy book being dropped on a wooden floor. Instinctively she turned, ready to scold one of her charges, but could not discern the figure of anyone else in the darkness. For good measure she said in her sternness voice anyway, “Get back in bed right now!” After a few more moments she turned back to the window and drained half her glass to take away the renewed stress the incident had caused.

 

            Get out....

 

            Louisa's scalp tingled and a jolt of electricity shot through her body causing her to nearly drop her wine glass. It was a job requirement that she be able to speak and understand American English, but it was still a strange language to her ears. Surely she hadn't heard what she thought she did. She blushed at her own silliness and hastily righted her glass. Bright yellow liquid on a stark white carpet was certain to earn her the wrath of her employer.

 

            This is my house.....homewrecking.

 

            Deciding that she must be tired, Louisa finished off what was in her glass and decided to return to her room to ready herself for bed. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled and stood on end as she groped her way along. It was completely dark and yet she felt watched.

 

            Red headed floozie.....

 

            By accident she stumbled into the master bedroom and did not realize her mistake until she turned on the light. Her employer had a beautifully decorated bedroom of red trimmed in black with ornate furniture and a huge bed. There were pictures everywhere. None of the children, but plenty of him and his beloved. Clearly he had adored her. The woman's piercing dark eyes, like fiery coals, glared out from every picture, unsoftened by her round ebony face. Her gaze was chilling...unforgettable.

 

            Leave my house....

 

            The master bedroom door slammed shut nearly taking off Louisa's nose in the process. Thoroughly spooked she dashed into her own bedroom and locked the door, trying to rationalize the events like any good sensible Catholic girl. “You are fine.” She told herself. “The children are fine. Go to bed. Your job is done for the evening.” Holding tightly to her reaffirmations, she changed and got into bed, making sure that the two child monitoring devices, one for each child, were on her night table with volume turned up. To help herself fall asleep she started on her rosary.

 

            Shwshwh-shwshwh

 

            A scraping and scratching sound came from the monitor tuned into the boy's bedroom. Louisa paused her prayers to listen for a moment for other signs that he was awake, before deciding that he was still asleep, and the noise must be from the wind.

 

            Umph....no mammie....leave me alone...don't like it when people rub my hair.

 

            While simultaneously burrowing deeper into the covers of her bed to fend off another more electifying cold chill, Louisa picked up the handheld device and called to the boy, “Zion? Are you awake? Do you need me?” The boy did not answer. The monitor was silent again. That suited her fine since she did not want to get out of bed or leave her room any more that night.

 

            THUMP-THUD-BAM

 

            Louisa sat bolt upright in bed as the walls of her own bedroom shook. Without much choice now, she hurried into her dressing gown and slippers, then left her room to go check on the children. Oddly despite the loud banging and scratching, neither of the children were calling to her in fright. Surely they had heard the commotion too. Even the neighbors had heard it and if she didn't get it under control very soon, the police were sure to turn up because of the country's strict noise laws. A situation to be avoided at all cost.

 

            She arrived at the first child's door and after finding that it would not budge, banged on it calling out to the little girl, “Amity? Are you alright? Please open the door!” The door would not budge and behind it there was silence. It seemed all was well with the girl, even if Louisa could not access the child to verify this.

 

            Inside the boy's room, she found something straight out of the movie Poltergeist. Zion lay tucked up in his bed, precisely as Louisa had left him hours earlier, asleep, nearly comatose. Though his bed was shaking violently he did not awake. If he was not causing the commotion, who or rather what was? “Blessed Father!” She stammered taking a cautious step into the room, before this door was slammed on her too. This time it was her heel instead of her nose that nearly got taken off, trapping her inside the room instead of out. For a moment she had the instinct to turn and try to pry the door open to save herself, but quickly recalled that if anything bad happened to this boy, she would be held responsible and wouldn't be able to blame some fantasy that she wasn't even sure herself was real. The curse of her people was that they were very practical and still quite religious compared to other countries in Europe. No one would believe her.

 

            He's not yours'....get out!

 

            Ignoring the voice from nowhere, Louisa took small halting steps towards Zion's levitating and rocking bed. When she reached its' side, she stiffened herself against a spine jerking chill and dragged him out of bed, buckling slightly as his seemingly lanky lightweight body proved to be quite heavy. In the hopes that it would protect him for whatever was present, she slipped her rosary around his neck. Zion gave an agonized scream.

 

            Get out! He's not yours'.

 

            Louisa felt herself become paralyzed. She had the child in her arms and she could manage his weight enough not to drop him, but her feet refused to respond. No matter how much she willed herself to go forward she remained frozen in place. Instinctively she knew that if she dropped the child the feeling would go away though. Still asleep, Zion began to mumble.

 

            Mammie.....don't be mad at Nanny. Daddy's never home. I wanna go with you. With you always....

 

            Louisa sank to the floor as blackness overcame her.

 

            She woke in a heap on the floor sometime after sunrise. In a panic she looked around. Guided by moaning and when she raised her head, it was possible to see Zion laid in his bed. He was soaked through with sweat, thrashing about, and burning up with fever. Though he was in a dreadful state, she was relieved to see him there in his bed. It made it seem like all was normal and nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

            After a quick peek to check on his sister, who was still asleep&looked well enough, Louisa returned to Zion's room with a cloth and a basin of cold water to sponge away some of the sweat and heat. His coffee colored hair, normally short with a neat fringe, was askew, sticking up in cowlicks and he breathed like he'd just run a triathlon, his bronzed complexion deeply rosy as if he had a bad sunburn though it was the middle of winter. She soaked the cloth and washed off his face, moving from his forehead down to his neck.

 

            When the cloth touched his neck he yelped. Gingerly Louisa caught his head as he thrashed it and pinning his head gently to his pillow, left side up, felt her heart skip a beat. Two huge inflamed welts throbbed, radiating heat. She squinted to be certain that her eyes were not playing tricks on her, but there was no mistaking it. She had known that shape for her entire life, from her youngest years, even before either of her parents' faces were engraved in her mind. The welts formed a cross.

 

            With a stifled scream of horror Louisa stumbled backwards and nearly fell as she stepped on something other than carpet. Scattered at her feet were the beads of her favorite rosary. The same one she had put on Zion the night before.

 

            The one with the beautiful carved ivory crucifix.......

 

            “Why did you make Mammie mad?” Zion fluttered his eyelids and looked up at her, his dark green eyes in slits.

 

            Certain now that it was not a dream and scared senseless, Louisa snapped back at him angrily. “Mummy? How can you call It, Mummy? That demon was trying to kill us!”

 

            Instantly she was made to regret her words as another cold chill, so powerful that it forced her head to jerk so violently she got whiplash and took her breath away, came on.  She did not care what her employer said. How much he had brushed her off when she attempted to tell him about the small eerie incidents that began a few days after she had retrieved his children for him. She knew, she just knew that someone or something was not pleased with something and the target was her. Since she was expected to stay and keep putting up with the circumstances, not him, action had to be taken sooner rather than later. From the local parish, a priest was summoned to come at once.

 

            “Good Morning, Father.” Louisa barely had the children and herself dressed and presentable before the enlisted help arrived.

 

            The Priest had a Bible, crucifix, and a little bottle of Holy water with him. Before he could come inside he crossed himself and drew a cross on the apartment door with holy water. He walked through the home doing the same: saying blessings, reading scriptures, and sprinkling holy water. When they arrived at the children’s bedrooms, he went into the boy’s room without prompting and confirmed Louisa’s suspicions. “This child is under attack. Something evil and unholy has attached itself to him. Tell me, is there anything that he has that a spirit could’ve attached itself to, in order to follow him back here?”

 

            Louisa was certain that there was not, because the children’s father had not wanted anything from his wife’s family aside from his children, no toys and not even a change of clothes. They had everything they could ever need or want waiting for them in their father’s home and Louisa had even been instructed to take with her clothing to dress the children in for the flight back to Switzerland. They hadn’t been allowed to bring a single thing back with them. While she was explaining this to the priest, she noticed something odd.

 

            “What are you doing?” She asked Zion, who sat on his bed cross-legged with his back turned to them, like he was not aware of their presence. As she approached him he fell forward and started screaming to be left alone. “It must be the fever!” Louisa apologized to the priest for her charge’s temper tantrum. While she was trying to pull him back out of the ball he had wrapped himself into, she noticed that he had something in his lap. She had not seen this toy before, a soft plush pig, and knew that it had not been bought for him by his father, which could only mean one thing. “Where did you get this?” She demanded harshly. “You have been hiding it haven’t you, because you know your father would not permit this?”

 

            “From Mammie.” Zion replied sullenly. “On the day before she died.”

 

            “And how did you hide it to bring with you?”

 

            “I had it inside my shirt and when I was in the bathroom changing into the new clothes, I just put it in my new shirt.” He announced triumphantly. Then his voice turned cold and defiant, “And you won’t take it away from me, so get out!”

 

            Louisa knew that, regardless of the boy’s tantrum, the toy had to go. The priest finished his blessings and left, unable to do anymore. He did not need to, because Louisa was going to finish the job herself that evening.

 

            Again she got the children properly bathed, fed, drugged, and tucked into bed by 21:00. Thirty minutes after she was certain the children were all except unconscious, she entered Zion’s bedroom and pried the piglet from his arms, realizing that he most likely slept with it at night and somehow managed to fight off the drugged induce fog to put it away before she came to get him up in the mornings. In any case, he did not rouse when she took it from him and would not miss it before morning, by which time it would no longer exist.

 

            Louisa had delayed putting out the fireplace in the apartment’s living room that evening for a very specific reason. The fire was roaring and strong, embers flying when she removed the shield. She watched the pig disintegrate while she sipped another well-earned glass of Limoncello. 

Reviews

[GBSpangler]

The writing is so good that it makes you dwell within in waiting for the next detail or conflict to suck you further into the story. I was able to visualize the scenery right down to the flute of Limoncello.