The Nightmare Game (19 page)

“Wow, you’re fast.”

“I try to be. I just do this work because it pays
by the job and I make a lot more money being fast. I clean a few properties and
then I’m done for the week.”

“Do you have a lot of properties to clean?”

Brenda laughed. “A lot more than I’d like. It
would be nice to have more time to study.”

“So you’re a student? What do you study?”

“Criminology. I’m not even a junior, so I’m not
quite sure what section of it I’ll specialize in just yet. Right now I’m
leaning toward becoming a crime scene investigator, but who knows what part of
the field I’ll wind up in.”

“What school?”

“New Orleans University. It’s the most convenient.
And it’s a good university. I just wish I could go full-time. It seems like
I’ve been going for years and I’m only finishing my sophomore credits. But I’ve
got to make a living and I’m working my way through school. There’s a limit to
how many semester hours I can take and still do both well. It’s hard to keep
your grade point average up and work.”

Our conversation paused for awhile again as she
turned on the vacuum cleaner. When she clicked it off, Brenda then wrapped up
its cord, picked up her supplies, put everything back in her cleaning caddy and
walked back into the front room.

“Well, I got everything done in here that I
usually do. By the way, I won’t be back until day after tomorrow. I get
Sunday’s off. It’s my only day off. I get caught up on all of my homework then
and try to relax a little bit. If there’s another maintenance emergency, just
call the office’s answering service and they’ll send somebody out.”

“That’s fine. Listen, let me grab my stuff and
I’ll walk out with you. I really don’t want to stay in the apartment alone
anymore.”

“Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t want to be here
alone here, either. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I’m right about this place
having squatters or gremlins. What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t know. It is a little spooky, though.”
She was so much closer to the truth than she knew. I wanted so much to tell her
everything, that she was right, that in a way, the house was haunted. I wanted
to share this secret with someone, but I held back. This woman was not my
mother-confessor. Again I reminded myself that this was my burden to bear and
not hers, so I kept quiet. Still I couldn’t stand the thought of staying here
all by myself anymore. I’d walk out with her and probably wander around the
Quarter for awhile. It was still early enough and since this might be my last
day ever on this earth, I thought that maybe I’d do something completely normal
before my required return to The Crypt, an appointment I wanted to put off for
as long as I could.

“By the way,” I asked. “Do you do just clean the
apartment at this property? Do you do any of the rest of the house too?”

Brenda blinked. “The rest of the house?”

“You know, the rooms upstairs and the other wing
that they don’t rent out. Do they have someone else cleaning in there?” It had
looked pretty clean to me when I saw it. While I was up there, I’d noticed a
little dust, but it hadn’t been totally excessive.

Brenda blinked again. “Nobody goes up there. I
mean, that section of this property is pretty run-down. Rochere told me to stay
away from all of it. She was really bitchy about it, too. That’s just as well
for me because this house really spooks me. When nobody’s here, I clean this
place and get out as fast as I can. I don’t think anybody’s cleaned the rest of
the house up in years, cause it never gets used. I think that’s one reason that
most people check out and leave right away, unless they’re poor college
students or the Quarter’s booked for Mardi Gras. I was surprised to find you still
here, to tell you the truth.”

I looked at her with what must have been a blank
expression. “The house seemed fine to me when I saw it yesterday.”

“Gee, it must have been really dark when you got
here last night,” she went on. “They only keep up this little apartment. The
rest of the place needs some real maintenance. Really, take a good look at it
in daylight. The picture of it on the website was shot a few decades ago and it
was getting run down even then. But people keep coming here, so I guess it must
be a lot cheaper than anywhere else in the Quarter. If you don’t mind my
asking, is that how come you’re staying here yourself?”

“Well, yes” I answered cautiously, “My best friend
and I booked this place for just that reason. It was a spur-of-the-moment
vacation and we couldn’t turn down the price. It seemed like an unbelievable
bargain for the French Quarter. My friend was supposed to have come with me,
but things came up at her work so she couldn’t come and now it’s just me here.
Why do you ask?”

Brenda shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering. It’s
just that we get so many people coming here alone. I mean, don’t get me wrong,
this is an okay little place, even with the funky decor but I could never stay
here by myself.”

“How come?” I probed, wanting to know the opinion
of a civilian not connected to the game.

She let out an embarrassed little laugh. “I know
this must make me sound crazy. I wasn’t really joking awhile ago, you know,
about the gremlins, I mean, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but I’ve
often wondered if this place is haunted. Either that or somebody really is
squatting upstairs. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that with you staying here and
all.”

“No, that’s okay. Go on.”

“Well, about it being haunted, I mean, really, I
do think…” Suddenly she became self-conscious and looked about as if someone
were watching. “You won’t tell Rochere or any of them this if I tell you, will
you?”

“Why should I? I’m just here for less than a week
and I don’t know these people.”

“I mean, I don’t want to lose this job for telling
you this.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Okay, it’s like this,” she said, lowering her
voice as if afraid she would be overheard. “Rochere’s horrible but thanks to
the wonders of modern technology, I hardly ever have to deal with her. Her firm
pays really well and it always pay me on time, but,” she hesitated. “Don’t ever
let this get back to her that I said this, but if I could afford to go
someplace on vacation, I’d never come here.” She seemed a little nervous.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice little apartment.
But the rest of it – I mean, according to everything I know, it’s so ignored
that goodness knows what could be in the rest of the house. If they checked
hard enough, they’d probably even find Jimmy Hoffa up there. I mean, nobody but
nobody ever goes into it; I don’t think anybody has even seen it in years. I’ve
never heard of any cleaning crews being sent up there and nobody in the company
that I’ve ever talked to has heard of Rochere visiting there either, although
she’s such a secretive sort that nobody would know it if she did. Who knows,
maybe she’s the one scaring off the spiders and keeping the cobwebs away. I
can’t see that though because I just can’t imagine that one doing any manual
labor.”

“Does she have a lot of rental properties?”

“No, just this one. You know, Rochere doesn’t have
any other properties of any kind that I’ve heard of. She doesn’t seem to be
much of a realtor, which is weird considering how long Rochere Realties has
been around. I’ve googled her, but she doesn’t seem to have a web presence at
all, except for this place. I mean, you’d think she’d keep it up better. With
some work, she could turn this property around but she won’t. She always puts
in just the minimum amount of upkeep that she can get away with into it, which
is next to nothing. I mean, look at this carpet. I hate having to vacuum it
cause it’s shag. Who has shag anymore? After Katrina, you’d think she would
have put some real money into it and fixed it up nice, but no. This place got
enough flooding to replace the furniture and the carpet and what does she do?
She finds this remnant from the late sixties that somebody stuck in a corner of
a warehouse somewhere and completely forgot about. I don’t know how she found
it, but I wouldn’t doubt it if they paid her to take it off their hands. And
the rest of this stuff is probably things that Salvation Army didn’t even want.
I don’t know what she’s got against this property, because it would be terrific
if it was restored.

“Okay,” she continued, as if I were suddenly her
confidant, “it gets better. Nobody, but nobody, ever comes back to stay here a
second time. I mean, I’ve been cleaning this place for the last three years
while I’ve been going to school and not ever, not once, has anybody that’s ever
rented returned. I know, who am I, the maid, right? Hey, my major is
criminology and I’m a straight A student. I remember a face once I see it and I
swear to God that never once, in three years, have I ever seen anybody rent
this place out twice.”

“Does she know that you’re a criminology student?”
I asked, thinking that surely that would be the kind of person that Rochere
would avoid like the plague.

“Rochere? Are you kidding? I’m the maid to her and
that’s it. End of story. According to her, I have no life outside of this job.
I mean, I can see why nobody ever wants to return. Despite the cheap price, it
goes way beyond the funky décor. The vibes are weird here, but it’s nothing I
can put my finger on, certainly nothing I can see that could pass for probable cause
for a warrant to get a cop out.” Suddenly, Brenda blanched. “Oh, jeeze, I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to say all of that. I’m not supposed to talk about this
stuff. I could get fired for it.”

It didn’t surprise me too much that she was
confiding in me. People had a tendency to tell me things and I never knew why.
Maybe I was a good listener, maybe I had an honest face. Whatever the reason,
it happened so often that I frequently regretted not having majored in
psychology and only minored in art.

“That’s okay, Brenda, don’t worry about it. I
won’t mention a word to anyone. I understand about the heebie-jeebies. I’ve
gotten them since I’ve been here myself.”
And then
some
, I thought. However, I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying
about the state of the house, which had looked immaculate to me and no, it
hadn’t been dark when I’d arrived. Neither had the upstairs, into which I had
just trespassed yesterday. It was a little dusty, maybe, but that was only to
be expected. The state of the house she was describing was not that of the one
I had seen.

“Look, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell
her,” she said, real worry now showing in her eyes. “I don’t know what came
over me. I’m not usually one to gossip like this, especially to a client. I
guess I’ve just been holding it in too long. Please don’t tell anybody. I just
got a grant and if I can keep this job and cut back a little on my work hours,
I’ll only have a little over two years left to go before I can get my degree. I
know I could get another job, but this one is really easy for me and the hours
are flexible and, like I said, believe it or not, Rochere’s firm really does
pay very well. You see, the lady that worked this job before me reported to the
firm that she heard somebody or something stirring around upstairs and it was
never investigated. The only thing that she got for her trouble was fired. So
please, whatever you do, don’t let this get back to her.”

“Don’t worry abut it another minute,” I assured
her. “If anything ever gets back to her, it certainly won’t be from me. I said
I won’t breathe a word about it and that’s a promise.” Brenda looked relieved
but not completely convinced. “Hey, cross my heart. I have nothing to gain and
I really appreciate that you’re so honest with me. Honesty’s a trait that’s all
too rare these days; it’s something that I would never betray. Scout’s honor.
Besides, who would I tell? I met our lady of perpetual coldness when I checked
in and if I had it my way, I’d never deal with her again.” Brenda could never
imagine just how much I meant that.

“Thanks.” Brenda took a last quick look around,
picked up her cleaning supplies and started to head out. “Well, I think that’s
about it for today. I think I got it all. Like I said, if there’s anything you
need before Monday, just call the office. There’s clean sheets on the bed and
in the bathroom, fresh towels, wash cloths and bath mat. And again, I hope
you’re okay with baths for a few hours until somebody comes by later today or
early tomorrow to jerry-rig the shower. And are you’re sure that you’re okay
from your fall? If you’re not, please let me know before I leave.”

“Really, I’m okay, Thanks for asking, though.”

“Well, I’d feel lousy finding out I left you here
with a concussion or something.”

“Trust me, I’m fine. Honest. Listen, I’m going to
head out, too, now.” I reminded her. “Can you hang on for just one more minute?
I just need to hit the facilities one last time before I leave and I need to
get my keys and stuff out of my other pants. I forgot them awhile ago.”

“No problem,” she said. “I’ll wait for you out in
the courtyard.”

 She closed the sliding door behind her and I was
all alone in the apartment again. I would have held it if I could, because
going back alone frightened me terribly, but I had to go to the bathroom so
badly that I just couldn’t wait. I was on high alert the entire time, searching
around me continually for any sign of Rochere’s return. I finished as fast as I
could, incredibly relieved that nothing had reached out of the john to grab me
and suck me down into the sewer. I quickly washed my hands at the sink, then
bent down to splash a little water in my face. When I stood up, a new bloody
message was on the tile wall, but it was not reversed by the mirror. “YOU’RE
MINE NOW!” it read. Terrified, I turned around, but there was absolutely
nothing on the bathroom wall, it was clean. I turned back around to check the
mirror again, but the message had vanished. As fast as I could, I dried off my
hands on my jeans, slowing down for the briefest of moments as, shaking, I
grabbed yesterday’s pants off of the bathroom floor under the sink where,
gratefully, Brenda had left them, snatched out my ID, keys and money that were
miraculously still in the left front pocket. I ran out the bathroom, stuffing
my scant belongings into a pocket of the jeans I now wore as I skidded out of
the front door and into the courtyard, where Brenda was waiting for me.