Posted by Night Manager on August 15, 2008 at 3:00pm
WINTER GHOST P3THE DOORThe door is… so strange. There’s no screen door. The snow is piled right up against it. It’s wood, dark and weather beaten, in thick long planks from top to snow covered bottom. It’s not especially ornate and there is no window set in it but there is an eyehole with an old fashion knocker just beneath it. I don’t see a doorbell.Maybe the knocker is the bell.The snow rises in a mound the higher the steps get but with one foot on the first step it shouldn’t be too difficult. I have to lean and move carefully because as light as she is her added weight may pull me off balance. My foot smashes down through the snow and as soon as it finds the second step the wind suddenly quiets.So quiet now… the whole street. Without the wind the thick curtain of snow falls straight down, no longer swirling and churning. Maybe I should call out. If she has family here they might be able to hear us now.The steps are easy to find now. I rise closer to the door one careful step at a time. Without the gusts of wind stirring up the loose snow I don’t have to squint anymore.No one in Mt. Airy has a door without a screen door. Despite being exposed to the elements the dark wood still has a rich color. I can see a bit of red in it. Mahogany?I’m feeling more hesitant now. I turn and chance another look across the street. Are the other homes like this? No screen doors?The snow is still falling too heavy. I can’t see across the street.Another step closer… higher… and she stirs in my arms but she does not wake. Her brows knit together when a moment ago, in the alley, she was so peaceful.It’s cold… she’s cold… get her inside.Another step… I can reach the door now.Still keeping my arm under her shoulders I reach for the knocker and the wind returns. A howling angry burst screams up the street and rips into us. I pull her close to me… protecting her face with my own.The wind and snow bites hard, burning my exposed ear. My wrists freeze and ache where my sleeves stop and my gloves start. The wind blasts us with a cold so terrible that it turns my thighs to stone threatening to imprison us on these steps. And it’s not stopping… not showing any sign of weakening. We’ll freeze if we don’t move.Is that her scent?I inhale deeply, despite the cold, taking in a flowery sweetness that draws me in. A warm smell, almost soft, penetrates my head. Memories flicker in the back of my mind hazy and indistinct. Her soft breath brushes against my lips, slips past my teeth and over my tongue. It’s like… a the fulfillment of a promise made long ago. I could stay like this forever… let myself freeze in place just holding her.She shudders slightly. She’s cold.Worry wells up inside of me and again I reach for the knocker. Shame and guilt boil up too for delaying, for wanting to hold her… to……keep her.She’s cold.My fingers reach through the blasting wind and touch the knocker. It’s coarse… no… it’s rusted; I can feel the rough surface through my gloves. I shuffle my feet forward a bit and get a better look. It’s horribly rusted and now I see the rest of the door a little clearer as well. I was expecting… I don’t know… but this is…Exposure to the weather has done much to this door. The wood is worn and flaking. The edges splinter where the warped planks try and pull away from each other. There are cobwebs in the corners. Rust falls like pepper into the snow as my finger tips slide over the knocker.I don’t think anyone has used this door in a long time. Some homes are like that, I know, people using another door other than the one in front. But I didn’t see a side door.My toes curl inside my shoes trying to stave off frostbite. I set my feet and pull on the knocker.It doesn’t budge. It’s rusted to the door. I can’t even get my fingers all the way around it to get enough leverage to pull it free. There’s no door bell. How am I going to…DUMMY! I ball my hand into a fist and pound on the old wood.Once…Twice…Three times… once more and my hand comes back aching as though I pounded it until it broke.Instinctively I step back and listen. The wind is so loud I don’t think I’ll be able to hear anyone moving through the house, coming to get her. Someone has to be coming. Her family?Father…Husband?I don’t know why but I’m sure there’s a man in there. Something about the door makes me think…Again the wind comes to an abrupt halt and the street goes quiet. Still the snow continues to fall, thick as ever, still covering everything in a pure white blanket that if you weren’t knee deep in it, looks almost warm. It’s not warm though and I shiver and curl my toes.What’s taking so long?I shift her in my arms and again raise my fist to pound on the door.I hesitate, my fist held up, shivering slightly. Suddenly I’m nervous. It feels like I’m… disturbing someone’s peace… instead of helping this girl.Stop it! Just get her inside.I pound again and pain lances across my hand but I’m not stopping. Four more knocks and then I yell out…But my voice trails off as I hear how harshly it cuts through the now quiet air. There’s no sign that anyone hears me.I know someone is there.Now I look at the door frame, the big archway so different than I’ve seen before. Even though the door is warped I can’t tell if there’s a light on the other side. The door is set too deeply in the frame. On the other side of the doorway, on the opposite side of the house from the alley I can see a huge picture window. I shuffle my feet through the snow and lean hoping to see a light but the window is dark. There’s a thick curtain drawn closed inside.Now I’m just going to kick this door until somebody comes. First I call out again and this time my voice stays strong. I look down to check that I’m not to closed the edge of the steps because I don’t want to…Her eyes are open.But only for a second, I think, and they’re closed again. If she’s awake then maybe she can tell me if this is where she lives, or better; if there’s a way inside. Very gently I shake her but she doesn’t stir again. Great.If no one answers here maybe I should take her to another house. Back across the street the houses remain shadowy shapes hidden by bushes and tree cover. They’re singles though, I can tell that. But these houses were supposed to be twins.Carefully I turn back to the door and now the eyehole catches my attention. Something about it is spooking me now. It doesn’t look any different, but… something has changed. Is it darker?My jaw clenches and I hold my breath wanting to be able to hear even the slightest noise. It’s so quiet now… I stare at the eyehole and it stares back.I think… I think there’s someone behind this door.
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