Page 28 of Whistle

Annie needed a moment to pull herself together first. She told Charlie there was nothing to worry about, just a spider, then

sent a quick email to Maya, asking if they could talk in half an hour. That gave her enough time to put together some dinner

for Charlie. Mac and cheese from a box. Not her favorite, but that was fine, because she had lost her appetite.

“I’ve got a Zoom call and I’m going to take it on the laptop in my room,” she told Charlie as he ate. “You good down here?”

He shrugged. “I’ll watch TV.”

She went to her room, closed the door, sat on the bed, and opened up her laptop. She clicked on the link Dr. Hersh had sent,

and seconds later, there she was on the screen.

“Hey, Maya,” Annie said. Her doctor had insisted she call her by her first name.

“Annie, long time, no chat,” Maya said. “How’s it going up there?”

“Okay.”

“How’s Charlie?”

“He’s good, he’s good. I got him a bike. It’s a piece of crap, to be honest, but he doesn’t care. He shined it up and he rides

around the property like a maniac. We picked strawberries today.”

Maya smiled. “Nice. But I’m guessing if everything were perfect, you wouldn’t have been in touch.”

“Yeah, well.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“You mean, other than thinking I’m losing it?”

“Talk to me.”

Annie hesitated, not sure how to begin. “Did you ever see that old movie The Rocking Horse Winner ? Or maybe read the story, by D. H. Lawrence?”

Maya thought for a moment. “The movie, I’m pretty sure. Made in the late forties, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, around then.”

“Refresh my memory?”

“It’s about this boy who has, well, a rocking horse, you know, a wooden toy you sit on and pretend it’s a horse. But there’s

something special about it. It has... special powers. The kid rides his rocking horse until he gets visions of which horses

are going to win at the track. It’s pretty creepy.”

“Okay. Not the first movie about a creepy toy.” Maya smiled. “There’s lots about creepy dolls. Chucky, Annabelle. That more

recent one, Megan? That was kind of fun. What was that one with Anthony Hopkins, where he’s the ventriloquist? Came out ages

ago.”

“ Magic ,” Annie said.

“That’s it. That one freaked me out. So what makes you bring up that rocking horse thing?”

“No judging, right? I tell you something that sounds totally off the wall, you’re not going to laugh at me or anything.”

“Annie, you know me better than that.”

She had to steel herself to tell her. “Charlie found some trains.”

“Trains?”

“Some toy trains. Left over in a box up here. An engine and cars and lots of track and some buildings. They were stored in

a shed back of the house.”

“My dad had trains,” Maya said, sounding wistful. “When I was growing up, I thought it was kind of weird and didn’t even want my friends to know, but when I got older, I saw that it was good for him. He was a fireman. I ever tell you that? Anyway, it was a good way for him to unwind. It’s a big hobby, or was. Not sure how many kids are into it these days.”

“Charlie asked if he could set it up, and he did, in the studio where I’m trying to get back to work. Sometimes... sometimes

when I look at them, I get this kind of vibe off them, like there’s something not right with them. Like... like they’re

looking at me, or they run when there’s no power hooked up to it, or I see thousands of bugs crawling out of it that aren’t

really there. And Charlie had a sleepwalking episode last night and wandered up the road to an abandoned rail line, and when

I found him I heard the train, saw it coming right at us, and then it was gone.” She let out a long breath. “There, I said

it.”

There was a long silence.

“Jesus, say something,” Annie said.

“What do you think’s going on here?” Maya asked. “I mean, you’re not saying this train set is possessed or something...”

Annie didn’t say anything.

“Annie?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“You are a rational, brilliant woman, so I don’t think I need to make the case that in the real world, a doll or any other

kind of toy is just that. It might have an emotional attachment, like the stuffed toys we had as kids, but they’re not evil . They’re not possessed. They are not taken over by some kind of spirit. I think what’s happening here is more obvious.”

Annie waited.

“You’re still processing what happened to John, still trying to find a way to deal with the tragedy of that young boy. A mind under stress does some pretty amazing things, Annie. And you’re worried about Charlie. Your anxiety surrounding him is manifesting itself in ways that are hard to understand.”

“Maybe so.”

“And Charlie has found something he really likes. He’s found a focus. These trains are probably a great way for him to think

about something other than losing his father.”

“He says John lives in his little town.”

“Ah, I see. But, you know, it sounds like he’s dealing with it, in his own way. And you need to let him.”

“I don’t know.”

“Annie.” Maya’s tone said everything. Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

“You’re probably right,” Annie said.

“Do you need your prescription renewed? I can phone it in to a local drugstore for you if you let me know which one.”

“I still have some,” Annie said. “If I run out, I’ll be in touch.”

“You going to be okay?”

“I’m going to be okay,” Annie said. “Thanks for this.”

They said their farewells, and Annie slowly closed the laptop, thinking, She’s wrong.

Across the road, Daniel was clearing the kitchen table of their dinner plates and asked his wife, “Can I interest you in a

piece of pie?”

Dolores turned her head slowly to look at him. “What kind of pie?” she asked flatly.

“Peach. Got it in Fenelon. Your favorite place.”

“Do we have any ice cream?” she asked.

“There was some vanilla, but we might have used it all up.” He set the plates on the counter by the sink, went to the fridge. The freezer compartment took up the lower third. He gave the handle a firm tug and peered inside. “Here we go,” he said. He brought out a carton and peeled off the top. “Just enough.”

“Okay, then,” Dolores said without enthusiasm.

Daniel opened a cardboard bakery box and slid out the pie, carefully cut out two slices and placed them on plates, then dug

out the last of the ice cream. There was enough for a good-sized scoop for Dolores’s slice. He put a small scoop next to his.

He brought the plates back to the table and sat down.

Dolores broke off a piece of pie with the edge of her fork, added a bit of ice cream to it, and put it into her mouth. If

it gave her any pleasure, she showed no indication.

“Good?” Daniel asked.

“Yes,” Dolores said, finishing a bite and swallowing. “It’s very good, Daniel. Thank you for getting it.”

He smiled, took a bite from his own plate. “That is a damn good peach pie they make.”

“Yes.”

“Their cherry is good, too. I think the last time I was there, I got cherry.”

“Yes, I believe you did.”

“But I’m gonna have to make sure we’ve got ice cream before I get another one,” he said.

“Yes,” Dolores said. “I like ice cream with my pie.”

“What would you like to do tonight, hon?” He always asked her this, even though he knew the answer was always going to be

the same.

“Whatever you want to do,” she said.

“I was thinking we’d watch some TV.”

“Okay.”

Dolores finished her slice first, ran her index finger through some melted ice cream, and licked it off. “You do love your ice cream,” Daniel said.

“She’s going to come over,” Dolores said.

“Is she, now,” Daniel said.

He didn’t have to ask who Dolores was referring to. He’d also been thinking Annie Blunt would be paying them a visit in the

near future. There’d been quite the to-do over there last night. Two police cars. Daniel had been in bed but was wide awake

and noticed the flashing lights coming through the curtains in their bedroom. Dolores was awake, too, but she chose to stay

in bed when Daniel got up to see what all the fuss was about.

By the time he’d pulled on some clothes, he saw Annie’s SUV turn back up the drive and come to a stop out front of the house.

Daniel took a stroll out to the cruiser that was parked on the main road. A young man behind the wheel powered down the window.

“What’s up?” Daniel asked.

“Boy went missing,” the cop said. “But the mom just found him, brought him back.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Daniel said. “Where’d he get off to?”

The cop pointed a thumb back over this shoulder. “Up that way.”

Daniel looked. Not that there was anything to see this time of night, but he knew that up that way was the derelict railroad

crossing. For a moment he considered heading up to the house to tell Annie that if there was anything he could do, let him

know, but their last meeting had not ended well, so he went back inside.

When he got back under the covers, Dolores asked, “Did she see it?”

“I didn’t speak to her. The boy wandered off, but she found him.”

“For now,” Dolores said, then rolled over and closed her eyes.

Now, sitting at the dinner table, she said, “Any time now.”

“You took your meds? Don’t want a repeat of what happened during that storm.”

Dolores said, “I took them. Maybe you should make some coffee.”

Daniel said, “I’ll clean up, make a pot.”

He started the coffee first, then rinsed off the plates and loaded the dishwasher. He was putting in the last fork—the one

Dolores had used to eat her pie, and there wasn’t a single crumb on it—when there was a knock.

Dolores pushed back her chair and went into the living room as Daniel closed the dishwasher and went to the front door.

Annie stood there on the porch, looking apologetic.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi, Annie. Come on in.”

“Thanks,” she said, but before accepting the invitation, she turned and said, “You just wait there.”

“Okay.”

Daniel peered down the porch steps and saw Charlie sitting there.

“He’s welcome, too,” Daniel said.

“He’s fine.”

He opened the door wider for her and led her into the living room, where Dolores was sitting in a recliner, staring at the

television, which was tuned in to Jeopardy! , but the sound was muted.

“Would it be okay,” Daniel asked, “if I took Charlie out a piece of peach pie? I’m afraid there’s no ice cream left, but the

pie is delicious.”

“That would be... that’s very kind of you. Charlie would love that.”

“You have a seat and I’ll be right back.”

Daniel vanished into the kitchen, while Annie sat down on an angle from Dolores. “Good evening,” Annie said. “I’m sorry to

drop in on you like this.”

Dolores, not taking her eyes from the TV, said, “I was expecting you.”

The front door opened and closed. Annie could hear Daniel offering Charlie some pie, and a quiet, “Thank you very much,” in

reply. Seconds later, Daniel reappeared, offering coffee.

“Yes, that would be nice,” Annie said. “A bit of milk.”

“On it.”

He brought out a cup for her and one for himself. “Dolores doesn’t like coffee this late. Keeps her up.”

He sat and said, “I’m sorry if I offended you the other day, bringing up that business.”

Annie waved it off. “I was being oversensitive. What happened to me, it’s no secret. It’s out there.”

“I’m glad Charlie is okay. I spoke to one of the officers last night, wondering what had happened. This was after you brought

him home.”

“He gave me a scare, that’s for sure.” She dropped her head, paused, then looked up, first at Daniel and then at Dolores.

“I feel... a little foolish coming here tonight.”

“Don’t be silly.”

She focused more on Dolores. “I don’t want to bring up a difficult subject, but Daniel had mentioned to me something that

had happened to you in that house,” at which point she nodded in that direction, “that precipitated an... event.” She looked

worriedly at Daniel. “I hope I haven’t made a mistake, saying that you told me about it.”

“Not at all.”

“The thing is,” Annie continued, “there’ve been some... unusual things happening lately. And the latest... a few hours

ago, it really affected me.”

Dolores slowly turned her head to face Annie more directly. “You were scared.”

“Yes, I was scared.”

“And you screamed.”

“I did.”

“Because you saw something.”

Annie nodded.

“Do you want to say what it was?”

She thought about that. “I don’t know. Let’s just say, it was awful. And it was very real. And then it was gone.” A pause.

“And there was something last night, too. It appeared, and then it was gone. I’ve been wondering whether I’m losing my mind.”

Dolores, still in a monotone voice, said, “I did lose my mind. A part of it. Like losing a finger. It doesn’t grow back.”

She paused, added, “My mind got scared away.”

Annie leaned forward. “What frightened you? What did you see?”

“That’s mostly in the part that’s gone,” Dolores said, and for the first time almost managed a smile. “I suppose that’s a

blessing.”

“Do you remember what you were doing at the time?”

“I was cleaning.”

“I mean, specifically.”

Dolores went very quiet and her focus shifted, away from Annie to something undetermined.

“It’s okay, honey,” Daniel said. “You don’t have to think about this if you don’t want to.” He turned to Annie and said, “We

have these moments, sometimes, of clarity, but they don’t last all that long.”

Dolores said, “They weren’t a happy family.”

“Was this the photographers?” Annie asked.

Dolores shook her head slowly. “Long before them. The Andersons. They had a son and a daughter. Jeremy. And Glynis. She was

a nasty child. Her hand was funny.”

“What do you mean?”

“She lost a finger and they stitched it back on, but the doctors did it wrong and it always looked like she was giving you

the finger.” Dolores almost smiled. “They did a couple more operations on it but never did get it right. I wonder what ever

happened to her.” Her speech had taken on a dreamlike quality. “Her brother wasn’t much better. Jeremy. Something wrong with

him. Something wrong with all of them. They moved away.”

“When was that?”

Daniel stepped in. “A few months into 2002, I think it was. Not long after Dolores had her episode.”

“They didn’t take it with them when they moved,” Dolores said. “They figured it out.”

“Didn’t take what?” Annie asked. “What did they figure out?”

“I was cleaning,” she said, ignoring Annie’s quest for clarification.

Annie opted not to press. She waited.

“The boy’s room...”

Dolores’s eyes rolled upward, her pupils half-hidden by her eyelids.

“On the floor... it was all set up...”

Her eyelids started fluttering.

“What was set up?” Annie asked. “His trains?”

“Went to move them... touched them...”

She was starting to shake. Worry crossed Daniel’s face. “This is worse than usual,” he whispered to Annie. “I think we should

stop before—”

“Fire in their lungs!” Dolores screamed. “All of them burning from the inside out! They can’t breathe! Can’t breathe! ”

Annie recoiled, horrified. “I’m sorry,” she said to Daniel. “She can stop. I don’t want to put her through—”

“Everyone dying!”

Daniel had squeezed himself next to his wife and put his arms around her, trying to stop her trembling.

“Mom, come see! It’s beautiful!”

Annie was on her feet. Daniel said, “You should go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Just go.”

Annie backed out of the room, unable to take her eyes off the woman as Daniel encircled her in his arms, whispering to her

that he was there, that everything would be fine, that the lady from across the road was going home.

Annie found Charlie where she’d left him, on the bottom porch step. He held out the plate, which had been scraped clean of

peach pie. “That was really good,” he said.

Annie took the plate from him and weighed whether to leave it on the porch railing, or discreetly go back into the house and

leave it in the kitchen sink.

I can’t go back in there.

Annie, sitting on the porch, had arrived at a decision.

She couldn’t say that it was rational. She couldn’t say it made any sense. But she was going to get that Tide box from the

basement, pack up those trains, and return them to that shed. And if that padlock was broken, she would buy a new one.

Annie didn’t know how she would explain it to Charlie. All she knew was that since he had found that box of toy trains, things

had not been right around here. Whistles in the night, phantom trains running on an abandoned line, spiders coming out of

boxcars.

She had an even better idea.

She’d tell Charlie they were going to spend another day exploring, and while she was away, she’d have Candace’s handyman, if and when he ever showed up to put chains on the doors, pack up the trains and take them away. Forget putting them back in the shed.

Get rid of them .

She would tell Charlie the previous occupants had been in touch. When they’d moved, they had forgotten that Tide box, and

could its contents kindly be returned to them?

Yes, that would work.

Or—and maybe this was the best idea yet—they could go home.

Getting away from it all, spending the summer in the country, was not the panacea she had hoped it would be. She could have

them packed up in an hour. She’d feel bad, given all the work Finnegan had gone to. Annie would say Charlie missed his friend,

that living up here had felt too isolating.

She heard the front door open, and Charlie walked out onto the porch.

“Hey, sweetie,” Annie said. “I’ve been thinking, we had so much fun today, going to the airport, picking strawberries, that

I thought we’d head out again tomorrow in a totally different direction. See what we might find. Or, and just hear me out

here, we could go back to the city. If you feel like we’re running out of stuff to do here, we could to that, too. What do

you think?”

Charlie showed no reaction to the proposal. In fact, he had looked annoyed from the moment he’d walked into the room.

“I don’t want you playing with my stuff,” he said. “I like it the way it is.”

“What are you talking about, Charlie?”

“I like the track the way it is. I don’t want you taking it apart and making it into something different. It’s just the way

I like it.”

Annie got up. “Show me.”

They went back in, up the stairs, and into the studio. Charlie stopped and pointed.

“That,” he said.

It took Annie a second to realize what had happened. Charlie had, from the beginning, put the track sections together to make

a large loop. Two long straight sides, curved at each end, not unlike a horse-racing track.

The track pieces had been reassembled to make a figure eight. Annie stared disbelievingly.

“And you moved all the buildings around, too,” Charlie said. “I’m going to hafta put it back the way it was.”