CHAPTER SIX – THE WELL

As they walked alongside the Victorian house, with its peeling paint and rotting siding, Aidan could almost feel the cold radiating off of it. I guess the lack of air conditioning won’t be so bad, he thought. Mom would be proud that I’m trying to see the bright side of things. He gave a slightly hysterical chuckle. What have we gotten ourselves into? How are we going to live with that bastard?

Aidan looked down at Sarah. All he could see was the top of her blonde, curly head.

“Bed Bug, it’s going to be all right. We own a house!” Aidan said, not having to fake some of the excitement he felt at that prospect. “We’ve got a place that’s ours. ”

“I thought grandpas were supposed to be nice,” Sarah said, her voice laced with dismay.

Aidan let out a hiss of breath. What the hell was he going to say to that? That Grandfather Patrick was actually a peach of a person? Who are you going believe? Me or your lying eyes? No, I can’t lie to her about this. Besides I couldn’t fake it after the reception he gave me. I can still feel his eyes on me. Like hands – ugh!

“Grandpas are just people. And some people aren’t nice,” Aidan said with a shrug as if it was no big deal that the man detested him.

Sarah tipped her head up to look at him, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. “Is Daddy nice?”

Aidan clenched his hands into fists. Why was she asking him this now? Had she finally connected them having to move here with their father’s abandonment? She must be pretty shaken up to ask it, because Sarah had always adored their father even though the man was hopeless, irresponsible and… I’m not going to think about him, damnit.

“Why are you asking that, Bed Bug?” he asked, stalling for time.

“Because you are always angry when he calls and stuff. Like you don’t want to see him or talk to him,” Sarah said.

Aidan bit the inside of his cheek as he considered what to say to Sarah. “I’m just angry at Dad right now, so I’m not the best judge of whether he’s a nice person or not.”

“Is Daddy why we’re here? Is Daddy the reason we have to stay with that mean old man?” Sarah pushed.

Aidan’s chest seized at her accurate guesses. “Let’s just play Frisbee. I don’t really want to talk about Dad, okay?”

Sarah finally nodded her agreement, but her little face was still pinched with sadness.

They had reached the end of the house. Aidan's eyes widened at the large expanse of mowed lawn spread out before them. It was half the size of a football field. It ended in a thick tree line which ran completely around the property, breaking only for the road that had led them here. We’re in the middle of a forest. Nothing else but us and the wildlife. So isolated, Aidan thought. Between the trees he could see nothing but darkness again just like on the ride up to the house. This was clearly old growth forest. No one had logged here. It was almost primordial, at least to Aidan’s city-bred mind.

Aidan walked out into the yard with Sarah trailing about ten feet behind him as if she were wary of moving into such an exposed space. He noticed that even though the grass was cut it wasn’t actually well maintained; there was more clover and dandelions than actual grass, and as he walked closer to an old stone well near the tree line, even that mix of scraggily grass and weeds became more threadbare until abruptly the vegetation ended altogether and there was only sickly-looking dirt in its place. The unhealthy soil formed a perfect circle around the well about five feet in diameter. It looked as if the well was leeching the life out of the ground around it. Aidan found himself slowly stepping within that circle as if he were being compelled. His eyes fixed on the old stone that made up the well’s walls. There was a cracked stone lid on top. A large triangular shaped chunk of the lid was missing.

“Aidey, I don’t like it here. I want to go back to Momma,” Sarah called. She had stopped following him and stood near the back of the house. Her tiny hands were clenched in front of her stomach.

“We can’t right now, Sarah. Mom needs time to talk to Grandfather Patrick alone,” Aidan explained. “Besides, isn’t it nice to be outside?”

Sarah shook her head and Aidan gave a muffled laugh in response. She never was one to bullshit, his sister.

“This well looks kinda cool. Don’t you want to come see it?” he asked her.

“No, I really want to go back. Please?” she begged. Her hands were pressed together as if in prayer.

“Not yet. We’ll have fun playing Frisbee, okay? I just want to check the well out first,” he said. “Hold your horses.”

“Aidey!” she whined, but Aidan hardly heard her as his eyes fastened on the dull, hand-cut stone blocks that made up the well’s sides.

I wonder what’s inside? Aidan walked over to the well’s lip. He placed his hands on the top stones. They were cool and damp to the touch. At first, when he gazed into the well’s maw, he couldn’t see much of the interior. The blackness inside looked complete. He leaned down, shading his eyes from the sun with one palm. He had to duck his head inside the open lid before he could see even a few feet into the well. He was shocked to see a rusted metal rung sticking out of the well’s interior wall.

A ladder? Why? In case someone falls in and needs to climb out? Aidan shivered. The thought of plummeting down to the well’s bottom, splashing into thick, black water was horrifying, but he found himself actually leaning forward to get a better look inside. A rush of cool, foul air hit him in the face. He picked up a loose pebble from the well’s top and dropped it inside. He counted to ten before he heard a faint splash. Jesus, that’s deep, Aidan thought. He gripped the edge of the well leaned farther forward. He thought he heard something. Was that a flash of movement? Was it the faintest sound of the rasp of a hand against a metal rung …

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