TOYS IN THE ATTIC

Toys in the Attic

c 2011 Paul DeCirce

The noise in the house woke Kate. Three nights in the new house and she couldn’t sleep through one of them. She opened her eyes and listened to Jim’s even breathing beside her.
The ceiling came into grainy focus. Squirrels, she thought, burrowed into the attic. She heard them skittering up and down the length of the house, imagined hundreds of nutty turds along the splintered boards. She sighed loudly and turned onto her side, bunching the covers around her head.
Jim checked the attic for her in the morning.
She held his coffee cup as the conversation in the kitchen led to the hallway. Above them a string dangled, tied to a folding staircase that Jim could walk up sideways on. He still wore his pajama bottoms and no socks.
“Just look,” she told him.
She brought him his flashlight and she could see the beam illuminating dark wooden slats, nailed unevenly to the gabled roof.
“Just a couple old boxes stacked,” he said. No animal tracks, or prints in the dust of the clapboard floor, he told her. Nothing. Just stifling.
The fourth night they made love again, as it was the middle of her cycle. While Jim pumped she let her head slide back and hang from the side of the bed. Upside down she saw the box with the unpacked crib in it. The movers put it there. It had a picture on it of a happy baby clinging to its plastic cage, smiling. Jim kissed her compromised neck, ran his fingers over it.
After, she walked naked to the kitchen. She found the pitcher of juice and a plastic cup and began to pour when a loud thump from above made her shoulders jump. The juice spilled all over her feet and the floor.
“Shit,” she said, shaking a naked leg to throw it off. She put the pitcher and cup aside and padded through the wet spot into the hallway, so that she stood directly below the folded stairs in the attic.
She reached in the grey darkness for the string, but couldn’t find it. Another thump, directly above her, landed. She froze listening, her lean body stretched with her hand still reaching.
The next sound was directly above her. It was a tiny throat, clearing phlegm. Kate forgot the spilled juice and ran to jump into bed, wrapping Jim’s warmth around her.
Kate slept in and spent the afternoon unpacking. She wore a handkerchief around her head and her old faded track t-shirt with jogging pants. This ranch style home was a castle compared to the crummy apartment they’d rented. She worked up a sweat cleaning, breaking down boxes and putting away dishes. This was a real home, she thought. She was proud of Jim, and this house was the reward for their hard work.
Kate decided the second bedroom would hold the remaining boxes and unplaced furniture. She moved the unpacked crib, placing it in the far corner. There she let her hand rest on it, and imagined it fully assembled. For three years they’d been married, and for that long they’d been trying. She wanted a baby. She was still young enough, but how much longer would it take?
The thumping began again, above her. Squirrel my ass, she thought. Soon it was a steady stomping. Now in the light of day Kate found herself angry, not scared. She marched into the hallway and saw the string to the stairs wound up to the brass pull, done by Jim undoubtedly.
“That won’t stop me,” she muttered under her breath. Kate pulled the folding stepladder out from along the refrigerator. She opened it below the folded stairs. She loosened the string and pulled the stairs down with her, moving the stepladder to make room. Armed with a broom, she braved the thin wooden steps to the attic above.
With the daylight below her, she looked up into the darkness. Two windows on the far wall were covered with shabby pillowcases, blocking out the midday sun save for crooked shafts along the wood floor. Small curls of dust writhed into a great puff above her.
Kate brushed her bangs back from her forehead, and gripped the broom handle tight. Everything was so still. Get up and look around, she thought.
Yet her feet didn’t move, one foot each on a thin wooden stair.
With the light below it was enough to see it was mostly empty. In one corner she saw the outline of the boxes Jim had mentioned. The heat was making her face warm. After another moment she decided to leave.
Then one of the rags over the window moved. She stopped. It dropped away at one corner, spilling light into the attic.
Kate could see into the far corner, behind the boxes. Her breath caught in her throat. There, lit by the weak sunlight, was a little girl was having a tea party. She poured air into a chipped and filthy teacup for a yellow tomcat doll, seated and waiting patiently for his cakes.
Kate watched, frozen.
The little girl noticed her.
“Hi,” she said, setting down the teapot.
The little girl, not much more than a toddler, took a child’s step toward Kate. She jerked backwards, catching herself on the stairs.
“What, what’s your name?” she asked, shocked.
“Dotty,” she answered. “You’ve come to my tea party!” She toddled across the room, and Kate noticed the thumping noise her black shoes made. “Come in, Kate, there’s a seat for you.”
“You know my name?”
Dotty passed out pretend cakes to each of her guests, giving up her setting for Kate. A tiny teddy bear with no eyes, nose nor mouth, stood angled on the smallest of lawn chairs.
“Well yes, we’ve been expecting you,” Dotty said, turning up a doll’s chair for herself.
“Who has?”
“All of us, my friends and I.” As she said this Kate saw over the girl’s shoulder. A pink silk rabbit moved. It had floppy ears and spirals for eyes. They turned slowly as it came to life. Its head jerked to stiff attention, noticing Kate.
Dotty stood up and held her arms out to her. “You’re going to be my new mommy.”
She dropped the broom, and it fell loudly down into the hallway.
“I’m this many,” Dotty said. “Don’t you want me to be your daughter?” She walked toward Kate, her arms still open.
“A daughter?”
Kate noticed she was shaking, and she looked down to take a step.
“What took you so long, mommy?”
“I’m not your mommy!”
“Take me with you,” the girl said, propelling forward on her chubby legs. “Take you with me now.”
Kate heard a cat’s hissing. The floppy tomcat, its yellow fur made of old yarn, came to live and leapt suddenly. Kate flinched as it took to the stale air and landed on the floor between them. The yarn was shedding, and bald patches of white flesh riddled its coat. It raised a cloth paw and hissed at Dotty, and she stopped.
“Mommy.”
The cat turned to face Kate, hissing.
“Ahh!” Something pushed her head from the side and it banged hard into the opening in the attic floor. Her knees buckled and her lower foot kicked out. She pitched down, partially falling as she came down the stairs and caught herself against the wall.
She slid down to the floor, dazed. The folding staircase was closing above her. She saw the rabbit’s spiraling eyes and the stairs closed, neatly with a snap.
Her vision blurred and she listened to the rhythmic pounding of little shoes above her, running back and forth. She lay back onto the hardwood floors, her eyes flitting first then closing.
When she woke there was Jim, blurry, leaning over her as she lay in bed. She blinked. He and the bedroom came into focus. Behind Jim, the door to the hallway was open, the broom propped against the doorframe.
“What happened?”
Jim gathered her in an embrace, laughing in relief. “You were passed out in the hallway, with a hell of a lump here at your temple.” He had ice wrapped in a cloth and offered it to her. She leaned on it, smiled weakly.
“You’ve been out an hour since I got home.”
“The attic.”
“Quiet now, you need to rest. That must have been a nasty spill. Was it on that apple juice from this morning? How long do you think it was before I got here?”
“Jim, I’m scared.”
Kate faded in and out of sleep for the remainder of the day, her dreams mixed with Jim’s concerned features. Late in the night she tossed, her head rolling back and forth on the pillow. The ladder in the hallway was moving, lowering.
She sat up, surprised Jim slept through the loud noise the stairs made as they unfolded. She watched in disbelief as tiny little legs backed down the steps. Dotty lowered herself carefully to the hallway floor.
Rising from bed Kate followed her into the spare room. Dotty walked right to the box containing the crib, and began scratching at its front. Dotty dug her tiny sharp nails into the cardboard, ripped the colored photograph. She slashed at it, ripping off pieces of the happy babies smile, until the photo was in tatters.
Dotty gnashed her teeth at the box, ripping and tearing for its contents.
“Now stop that.”
Kate reached for her and Dotty was whisked away back into the hallway by invisible arms. As she was pulled she began crying loudly.
“No,” Kate hollered. “She’s mine, I want her!”
Kate was at the bottom of the staircase, her head throbbing again. She watched at Dotty was dragged up the stairs to the three stuffed monsters waiting above.
“She’s ours,” the rabbit said, tiny pointed teeth clicking as he spoke.
Then they were gone, backed away into the attic. She watched in the darkness for a minute, and then reached up to the opening.
“Dotty.”
Then Kate was in the kitchen, where she saw her hands pouring milk into Jim’s thermos. The staircase was waiting for her in the dark hallway.
She climbed up and looked into the darkness of the attic. Kate could hear Dotty’s muffled sobs from the corner of the room.
“I’ve brought you some milk.”
She put the thermos on the floorboards and waited.
Into a sheathed light of softer grey the tomcat, the blind teddy and the floppy rabbit moved toward her.
“Milk?” Asked the tomcat.
“It better be mother’s milk,” said the rabbit.
“She never had her mother’s milk,” the blind teddy said. They grew larger in the darkness.
“Dotty? There’s milk here,” she said.
“Cow milk,” the cat said, its face a grimace. “It’s not mother’s milk, Dotty.”
“I can give her mother’s milk,” Kate said.
“Too late,” the rabbit said.
The cat moved its head. “She’s ours.” It raised its paw and swatted at the thermos. It had but a feeble cloth arm, yet the strike of its blow sent the thermos flying right into Kate’s face.
She reached up and then she was falling, her balance gone. Falling down the thin stairs and through the floor, into the cellar and then down into the earth Kate went. In the cold dark soil she heard the moaning of a thousand unborn babies, mewling for their mothers.
Her falling body was going to land on them, crush them all into a bloody mass of milked flesh. She screamed again and again, trying to move her arms through the thick earth.
Finally she awoke. Jim turned on his lamp, and then was cradling her head in his hands.
“Baby?”
And Kate melted into his arms, unable to stop the tears.
He brushed them from her cheek. “God Kate, what’s going on?”
She shook her head. He pushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Bad dreams.”
He kissed at her wet cheeks and ears.
“How about some good ones?” he asked.
She let the warm weight of his body slide on top of hers, pulling her shirt up to press his chest against her own. He cupped her breasts with his hands while his kiss deepened, her mouth opening.
When she woke in the morning, he had gone to work. She walked naked to the bathroom, peeing on a pregnancy test and starting the shower water.
As she washed, she looked at the ceiling. Flecks of water bounced from her shoulder and damped the wall above the tile. She stared at it absently, thinking how she could tell Jim about Dotty. Oh, Jim by the way, she imagined herself saying over dinner, there’s a toddler living in our attic. I was thinking maybe it’s the spirit of our unborn daughter.
She giggled at the face he’d make. Yes, I think her stuffed animals have come to life, perhaps by some evil force trying to keep her from us.
She imagined Jim’s face. He’d think she had a concussion.
The stomping began when she had soap in her hair. She opened one eye, and the pounding got so strong she jumped when a damp chunk of drywall cracked above her.
She dried quickly and dressed, slipping into her sneakers. The stomping followed her as she went to the kitchen for the flashlight.
“All right,” she said aloud. “Let’s see if I’m crazy or not.” She pulled the string and lowered the stairs. She straightened them out, and with heart pounding, stepped up.
Holding on with one hand, she turned the flashlight on with her thumb. The batteries were low and the beam was a feeble yellow.
The curtain had been replaced.
“Dotty?” She spoke into the darkness. Kate stepped up in the attic, wiping her hands on her sweatpants. Dark corners of the attic grew around her.
She took a couple creaking steps. The molding attic stench was all around her, closing in. The slanting gable walls crushed down beside her.
She knocked the flashlight and the beam strengthened a bit. She shone the light into the same corner where the tea party had been.
“Dotty? It-it’s your mommy, Dotty. Time to come down and have your bath, now.”
A shoe scuffed the floor. “I mean, really,” she said. “If you’re going to be my baby daughter, you should come down and move into your new room.”
Another sound and then Kate jumped as a box fell. The yellow tomcat spilled out of it, landing in the weak light. Inanimate.
There were movements in the corner. Kate licked her lips.
Then, from the darkness, a tiny voice: “A room downstairs? All of my own?”
It sounded hopeful to Kate, and she reacted. “Yes, of course, all your own, and a nice meal, too.”
Then the silk rabbit hopped toward her from the shadows. Shocked to life by an unseen evil, it jerked its head toward Kate. The cat, still spilled onto the floor, swished its tail back and forth, violent.
Ignoring her fear, Kate toward Dotty’s voice. “Now why be shut up in some stuffy attic?”
Kate got close enough to possibly stomp the rabbit when she saw Dotty huddling in the corner. Tears glistened on her round cheeks.
She motioned to her. “Don’t cry, honey. Come to mommy.”
Dotty ran quickly and passed both the cat and the rabbit. Kate dropped the flashlight and took Dotty up in her arms. It was flesh and blood she held, and Kate knew it was no dream.
Excited, she turned too quickly and hit her head on a roofing joist. She almost dropped Dotty, who clung tightly. She steadied herself and took a step toward the opening in the floor. The shadow of the silk rabbit and tomcat were ominous, cast along the floor from the light below. They stood blocking the staircase.
“Give us the baby, bitch,” the rabbit said, its pink tongue hung out between its teeth.
“Yess,” hissed the cat.
Kate, sweating and dizzy, steadied herself. The cat moved forward on its shaky legs, its mouth opening to reveal great teeth.
“Get out of the way, fur ball,” she said and stepped forward. It hissed at her. She kicked it, and the cat splayed backwards into the air. It meowed loudly as it careened over the rabbit, struck the wall behind, and fell down the steps into the house.
A fierce pain ran up Kate’s other leg and she screamed. It was the tiny teddy, its teeth sunk hard into her tendon. She tried to kick it off of her and her other leg buckled. Kate propelled forward to catch herself. Dotty slipped from her grip, rolling to the floor below.
The rabbit was charging toward her and she kicked weakly at it. It dodged and slashed fiercely at her ankles. The pain too much, she rounded to the staircase. Crying, Dotty stood tottering and reached toward Kate.
While the rabbit slashed at Kate, the tiny bear growled at Dotty.
The rabbit was enraged, and its eyes were spiraling faster now. It showed her its claws, which seemed to grow right out and reach for Kate. She turned onto the staircase and started down.
“Mommy!”
“I’ll come back for you, Dotty!”
At the bottom, she watched a pink silk paw reach for a stair and pull it up with inhuman strength.
“Anytime you want some more, mama,” the rabbit said, closing the stairs below him.
Kate ran into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. She cried then pulled her bloody sneaker off.
“Jesus, Kate, what’s this?” Jim asked, later when he was home. He was talking to her through the kitchen door. He motioned at the garbage can, the lid in his hand. She knew why.
“Kate?”
She had planned to lie and tell him it was road kill pushed onto their lawn. Instead she turned away to hide her tears.
Forgetting the dead cat, Jim went inside to her.
“Darling, what’s wrong?”
She couldn’t tell him. Instead she went to their bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. In the bathroom Jim found the tissue box and noticed the pregnancy test on the sink beside it. He picked up the strip.
Negative. So that’s it, he thought.
He went into the bedroom and she was gone. When he returned to the hallway, she was there, standing below the attic staircase.
“Jim,” she said. He met her gaze. The tears were thick in her eyes. “There’s something in the attic.”
“What, darling?” He went to her.
She covered her mouth. His embrace didn’t comfort her.
“Maybe it’s just the dreams,” she said.
“Look if there’s something up there I will check again.”
“No,” she cried. He led her to the bedroom, laying her down again. Soon the tears stilled and she slept from exhaustion.
When she woke she turned over and rubbed her eyes. From her place in the bed she could see into the hallway. The attic stairs had been lowered. She swung her feet over the bed and stood, ignoring the rush of blood in her ears. Her fingers reached up, touched the bruise on her head.
Finding her footing, Kate walked in her socks to the hallway. She reached out, touched one step of the ladder. Its solid wood told her this couldn’t be part of the dream, though how would she know the difference?
Jim’s scream shocked her into reality, and she ran around to the base of the stairs.
“Jim!” she screamed into the attic.
“Kate,” he yelled from above. “Ah, ah Kate!”
The thumping began, but muffled.
She put one hand on the staircase, then another. Adrenaline pumped through her and she climbed three steps to peer into the attic.
Night had fallen, casting hard darkness. The light from the hallway was not enough for her to see.
“Jim?” Kate said into the silence. “Jim!”
A scraping sound pressed toward her. She held her ground, reaching into the darkness. “Jim, are you okay?”
Something rolled along the floor and came to rest at the frame around the floor opening. From the light downstairs she could tell it was the flashlight she’d dropped earlier.
She reached down and picked it up, her thumb fumbling for the switch. It clicked on, its beam shaking from her trembling hands. She moved the weak shaft of light across the attic floor.
There, in the middle, she stopped. Though weak, the light showed her. Jim on the floor, and over him the pink silk rabbit stood, hovering and covered in blood. Jim’s back was turned to Kate and she saw the back of his head. It had been beaten in, and the exposed bone of his skull shone yellow in the light. Hair and brain spilled out of the bloody crack, staining the dry wood studs. The rabbit’s eyes spun wildly, and its tongue quivered, a last drop of blood dripping.
Kate opened her hand holding the light and saw the blood smeared in her palm. The handle was covered in chunky blood. Her breath shot from her lungs.
“Jim!” She stepped up into the attic and leveled her gaze on the rabbit. “You bastard.”
She stepped forward and heard the whimpering from the dark corner.
“Dotty.”
Kate remembered the confusion earlier when she found the tomcat. Its neck had broken on the way down, but it being dead didn’t matter to her. Though dead, it somehow transformed from an animate stuffed toy into a real cat. A real cat corpse, anyway. Whatever comes down gets real, she thought.
Her husband dying at her feet, she kicked at the rabbit, which hopped away toward the dark corner.
“Come here, Dotty,” Kate said.
Dotty walked from the darkness. Kate saw in the dim light the rabbit as it leapt. It landed on the little girl’s back.
The force of it pushed her forward, who toppled. The rabbit fell back in a puff of dust. Kate caught Dotty’s arm before she went down and pulled her into an embrace. Feeling her flesh against the child, Kate stood. There’d be no separating them now.
She turned back to the rising light of the attic opening. The tiny teddy stood between them, but this time she was ready. It ran upright on stiff hind legs. She stepped aside and kicked it into the narrow slant of the roof. It squealed.
“You can’t have her!” the rabbit cried.
With Dotty’s arms around her neck, Kate turned onto the stairs as quickly as she could. When she came around, she could see the silk rabbit standing over Jim’s corpse.
A low growl emanated from its throat and it hopped toward her, its front claws long and sharp.
Kate pumped her legs backwards and was down the stairs. She looked up as the rabbit landed, almost falling through the opening. It caught itself and growled as her, his mouth open. Kate folded the low step with her free hand and slammed the stairs upward, closing them on the rabbit. Its head shook and it screamed, leaping up and down.
Downstairs, Kate held Dotty and rushed into the extra room. She went to the crib, which was assembled though she didn’t remember doing it. She laid Dotty down ever so gently upon the cotton blankets. She brushed the dust from the child’s face and smoothed her curls.
Above them, the silk rabbit stomped.
“You see?” Kate asked. “You’re home. You’re home with me.” She giggled, tears in her eyes. “You’re my new baby!”
The tattered and lifeless doll gazed up at her.