† † †
Back in the peaceful setting of his Highland Park estate, Dr. Anderson’s dream was anything but peaceful…
…Anderson was standing at the main entrance of Reindeer Manor, eager to enter. The fact that he was there alone did not bother him. He reached out, but as he touched the door handle, an unanticipated sense of dread came over him. He felt he was being watched, but not from afar. He felt as if he was being stared down, inches from his face. It was an unnerving sensation.
Suddenly he heard a whisper. “Open the door.”
Anderson backed away. Though it was daylight, the house looked menacing, evil, and in disrepair. At night, with all the glitz and glamour of the haunted production going on, the real dilapidation of the structure was hidden. He could tell that at one time, this house had real glory, but now its faded red paint and crumbling bricks spoke of a slow death brought on by nature.
As he stood there, he heard a crunching sound. It resembled the sound of dry leaves being walked on. The sound continued to get louder, as if someone was approaching. He turned, but no one was there. The dread continued to build. Feeling he was losing control of the situation, he decided to leave.
Cautiously, Anderson began backing away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something. Slowly he turned as he held his breath. The three ropes in the gallows were swinging. “It’s only the wind,” he mumbled. Suddenly they stopped swinging, but one of the nooses was parallel to the ground and stretched, as if someone was hanging from it.
Quickly he turned and walked with his head down, refusing to look. Suddenly he heard a door swing and a piercing scream, followed by silence. Oh God, he thought. He wanted to look, to see if there really was a body hanging there, but he fought it. If he looked, what would he see-- himself? No, he had to go; it was not of his concern.
As he was about to round the corner of the snack bar, suddenly he stopped. My cane, he thought. He heard tapping coming from the house. He turned to his left to avoid looking at the gallows. In the upstairs window, there it was, leaning against the glass. He shook his head. “They want me to come inside,” he said. Arguing with himself, he closed his fist. “No, I have to leave; I have to get out of here!”
Without a second thought, he turned and walked quickly. To his surprise, he did not need the cane. Faster and faster he walked, past the iron gate as it slammed shut. He stopped and turned, but no one was there. Suddenly a cold wind blew across him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he felt something breathing on him.
Slowly he turned, but again, no one was there. He shook his head and then with a burst of fear-fueled energy, he began running. Self preservation had taken over, and for him it was flight. No matter how fast he ran, he could still feel the entity breathing on his neck.
Finally, off in the distance, he saw his car. He dashed for it, his leg aching intensely; now he wished he had gotten his cane. The sun disappeared behind the clouds as music began playing from the morgue. It was a dreadful dirge.
Finally, he reached his car, but to his horror, his keys were not in his pockets. Oh God, he thought, where could I have dropped them? As he turned to go back, a glimmer caught his eye. It was his keys, in the ignition.
With a sigh of relief, he quickly tried to open the passenger door, but it was locked. He ran around to the driver’s side--again, locked! As he panicked, he felt three claws digging into the back of his neck. He screamed in agony and arched his back. Finally, in desperation, he smashed the driver’s side window with his fist. Blood poured from his wound, but he did not care. He jumped into the car and started the engine. With the accelerator pressed to the floor, he sped down the bumpy entrance road, hitting his head on the roof multiple times.
As he rounded Dead Man’s Curve, ahead he could see the barricades. They were closed. He gripped the steering wheel with all his might and kept the accelerator pressed to the floor. As the two thousand pound car slammed into the yellow barricades, they were dislodged from their post and sent flying into the air. As his car sailed onto Houston School Road, in an incredible impact, he was ejected from the car and thrown into the tall grass.
Moments later, as he lay there bleeding, he looked up and saw another vehicle on its side, smoking. After what seemed like an eternity, the sounds of sirens were music to his ears. Though he was having a hard time hearing, he heard a witness telling a police officer, “This guy came speeding out of Reindeer Manor as the other vehicle was coming down the road, and neither one could see the other.”
Anderson watched as the medics attended to him, but all he could think was, “I got out.”
† † †
The alarm went off as Anderson opened his eyes. He looked all around but was confused, unsure of what was going on. His emotions were in overdrive and his heart was racing. He was terrified and unable to speak. His brain raced to make sense of what was happening. “Am I dead?” he mumbled.
“No,” a voice in the darkness said.
He stood from the bed. “Who’s there?”
A light suddenly went on. “What are you doing, John?”
He sighed, “Apparently suffering the effects of a nightmare.”
She looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Silly man.”
He took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. A cold wet sensation came over him. He quickly stood as Lauren jumped up. “Oh John, you wet the bed!”
He leaned over to smell. “No, it’s sweat.”
She ripped off all the covers in disgust. As she walked from the room she mumbled, “You and your dreams.”
He smiled as he reached over and turned on the radio. A bright cheery voice sounded through the speakers, “Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I hope you all had a spooky weekend, but now Halloween’s over and it’s straight to Thanksgiving! For all of you who missed it, the Cowboys won last night over the—”
Anderson reached over and turned the radio off. “No, it’s time to work!”
Lauren walked back in, “Well, are you gonna get dressed or not?”
In a burst of affection, he walked over and kissed her deeply. After the embrace, he sat her down, his hand on top of hers. “Yes, I am!”
Lauren stood and walked around him. “What’s got into you?”
He followed her with his eyes. “Success, like a gift from above.”
As she opened her dresser, she looked at him. “I assume, then, that the publisher accepted your work? I have not heard a word since you submitted it.”
Anderson lowered his head. “Actually, no, they rejected it, for a number of ridiculous reasons. However, things happen for a reason, and I may have found my most interesting case to date!”
Disinterested, Lauren smirked as she dressed. “Well, you will have to do it a bit under-dressed. I hung up the pants you wore on Friday. I did not have a chance to go to the dry cleaners on Saturday, so just wear those and we will be back on track tomorrow.”
“Yes dear,” he said instinctively.
After dressing, Anderson wandered downstairs, where he found Lauren cooking. He walked over and sat at the table as she placed a plate of toast and an assortment of jams in front of him. He picked up the peach and spread it over the toast. He smirked. Why she insisted on putting out the others was beyond him; in thirty-eight years of marriage, he had never used anything but peach.
Lauren put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, and though he was anxious to leave, he took time to eat.
“You’re cheery today,” she said.
He nodded. “I know.”
“It’s good to see this side of you again. I will come by the university later. Don’t forget we have dinner reservations.”
He had not the slightest clue what she was talking about. His mind was wrapped around one thing: Reindeer Manor.
As he was driving, he could not help but daydream about the success to come. He thought of the details and knew he would change his mind often, but finally after so long, a chance to investigate again was almost too good to be
true.
He pulled into the parking lot and parked in his spot. He took a deep breath, wondering what the day would bring him. Quickly he gathered his things and hurried to his office. As he entered, he was grateful his secretary was already there.
“Good morning, Dr. Anderson.”
He smiled and bowed. “And good morning to you, Mary!”
“Well, my-my, what has you in such high spirits?”
He held up a file. “Reindeer Manor, my dear, Reindeer Manor!”
She was ecstatic. It had been so long since he had gone on an investigation. She had missed his eager, often boyish excitement. “Well, it’s about time!”
“That it is, Miss Mary, that it is!”
She followed him with her eyes as he walked into his office and gently closed the door.
Inside, he found everything just as he had left it: his manuscript, the letter, the newspaper. He set his coffee on the desk, then picked up the phone and called Dean Shultz. With enthusiasm, he requested to go before the special projects board. To his delight, he was added to the meeting later that afternoon.