Around the House
[ Home ] [ Around the House ]

Scared! Who Me?

By David M. Fortier

    People around here love scary movies.

    Before she saw Hitchcock's "Psycho," Christy was a normal kid.

    Now at 11, she will not take a shower if the door to the bathroom is closed.

    If someone stops to close the door because the shower is running and it is customary to take a shower with some sense of privacy, Christy will shriek, "Don't close the door. Leave the door open."

    And yet, she is drawn to scary movies like fruit flies to a ripe banana.

    Her enthusiasm spreads like fruit flies, too.

    Ask what kind of video to rent, and everyone, except for Mary, chimes in, "A scary one."

    After it's over, no one can sleep.

    The youngest tumble into the same bed together.

    The older ones—oldest not included—sleep with the lights on.

    Liz, who is one of the oldest, saw "Signs," the movie with Mel Gibson.

    She christened it the scariest movie she has ever seen.

    She talks incessantly about the aliens.

    Nick, the oldest, saw "Signs" a few days earlier.

    Together they have long conversations about the aliens, how scary, how hostile, how creepy.

    Just the other day, I was sitting downstairs in my office when Liz poked her head in the door.

    "Dad," she said, "can you come upstairs?"

    "What's up?"

    "I'm trying to get to sleep but I can't."

    "What happened?"

    She smiled meekly.

    "Before I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I turned off the television. When I came out, no one was there, but the television was on."

    "Ghosts," I said.

    "Aliens," she said.

    "Come on," I said. "Let's go."

    Sure enough the television was on and no one was in the room

    "See," she said.

    "How do I know you didn't turn the television on yourself?" I said.

    "Really," she said, "I didn't. You have to believe me."

    Just as the words were out, the rocking chair squeaked.

    Genny's head popped up from behind the chair..

    "I scared Liz," she tittered.

    Not ghosts nor aliens, just Genny. Mystery solved. But the light stayed on all night.

***

    Which brings up another mystery.

    Knowing that the fridge was down to a few bruised apples, Liz watched with particular interest as Chelsea appeared in the living room with a huge, unbruised red delicious apple, plunked down on the couch and crunched on the luscious fruit.

    "Where did you get the apple?" Liz asked.

    "From our tree," Chelsea said as she took another bite.

    "No way," Liz said.

    We have one apple tree in our backyard. It drops knotty, sour round apples on the lawn every other year.

    "Yes, huh," Chelsea said.

    She continued chomp on the apple.

    "Then, go get me one," Liz said.

    Chelsea ran down stairs and came back with another red delicious apple.

    "There you go," Chelsea said and tossed it to her sister.

    "Where did you get that?" Liz asked.

    "From the tree," Chelsea answered. "Go see for yourself."

    Liz sat down and ate the apple.

    She didn't want to push a good thing.

E-mail the author at ath@dmfco.com.

Copyright 2002 David M. Fortier

All rights reserved.