Impending Doom Read online

  She lay in her bed later that night, remembering when her parents used to make her watch them do their job. Horrible memories of her childhood filled her mind and she was unable to sleep. The images of what her father did to her danced through her head. Unable to shake it from her mind, she tossed and turned in her bed until she thought her head was going to pop from the overload of memories she'd tried so hard to forget about. Fear swirled inside of her, buzzing like a bee and stinging her mind endlessly. Her eyes stung and became red around the sides. Her cheeks smeared with tears that cut into her. Painful memories scarred her for a second time.

  2

  Mr. White was getting ready to go to the library at six in the morning as the sun shown slightly over the tippy tops of the mountains. He stumbled over his fiancé’s pink bunny slippers and Gracey rifled through a colossal stack of papers trying to find the tests she was supposed to give back to the students that day. She knew that she graded them just a couple days ago, if only she could find them now.

  “Gracey, have you seen my new work shirt?”

  “It’s hanging in the laundry room, love. I ironed it last night,” Gracey replied, pulling out the tests she needed with a short “aha!”

  Mr. White pulled on his shirt and headed towards the door. When he opened the door, he stopped suddenly and looked down. He did not exactly know why he looked down... something inside had told him to do so. He saw there, lying before him, a letter, hand addressed to him and his fiancé. He picked it up and looked at the fancy script. His name and address was written in golden ink.

  He turned the letter around and saw the wax that sealed the letter. The return address was to The Dyebuko Manor. He instantly thought of the old Lovehart Mansion. He remembered Ivan telling him that the last name of the people who moved in was Dyebuko. He most certainly did not know of any other mansion or manor around those parts.

  “Gracey? Can you come here?” he called up the stairs. He heard the clickity-clack of her high heels hitting the floor with each step she took. Normally, he would've scolded her for wearing high heels in the house, it could tear up the hard-wood floors, but he was so entranced by what he held in his hands that he didn't think to say anything about the heels.

  “What is it? If you don’t hurry up, you’ll make us both late,” she said, looking over his shoulder at the fancy letter. “Well open it!” she demanded over zealously, curious as to what was inside.

  Mr. White opened the letter and inside was a card, it read:

 

  To all the of-age people of the household,

  You are cordially invited to a dinner party, hosted by the Dyebukos on Friday night at six. This event will take place at the Dyebuko Manor A.K.A the old Lovehart Mansion. This is a formal event so please dress accordingly.

        Sincerely,

  The Dyebukos

 

  “Oh my, a dinner party!” Gracey squealed. She had always wanted to attend a formal dinner party since she had been the cherished age of five.

  “I’ll rent you a tux and buy myself a new dress and a pair of shoes and maybe a matching purse! Do you think heels, or boots? Both are fashionable this time of year. Oh! I just cannot wait! I wonder who else is invited… surely not everybody in town. That would be a lot of food. Oh what do you suppose they will have to eat?” she asked all these questions to Mr. White so fast that he thought her head could possibly spin off with curiosity and excitement.

  “Now, now, settle down. We will attend, although I do not see an RSVP. You can go shopping after school, and I'll go down and rent a tuxedo. We’ll be back home by seven and go out for pizza, okay, love?” he asked. Gracey nodded anxiously, and both of them went off to work with a skip in their step and their minds whirling with questions.

  3

  Thelma woke precisely at six, just like she did every morning. She threw on her robe and bustled her way into the kitchen to start breakfast. Everything was purely routine except for one thing... the alarm in Kurt’s room was continuously going off. Thelma decided to ignore this for the time being and just start making breakfast. She cracked the eggs in a pan and turned the stove on medium heat.

  She felt compelled in an odd way to open the door, even though she had not heard a doorbell. She opened the door and looked down – yet again not knowing why she was doing so.

  She saw a little letter sitting there on the doorstep. She picked it up and sat down at the table, admiring the fancy handwriting and golden ink. When she flipped it over, she noticed the eloquent wax seal. She tore it open; having no thought of saving the quaint looking envelope, eager to see what was inside of it. She found the same invitation that Mr. White had found. Instantly her head swirled with the same questions that Gracey’s head swirled with not three minutes earlier.

  Maybe she'd been wrong about the Dyebukos. Maybe Latianna was the only bad one. After all, uncontrollable teenagers were everywhere and it had nothing to do with the parenting. But that didn't matter with her kids, because she was the perfect parent. She would never dream of leaving her kids alone at home for longer than a couple hours! She'd said that yesterday to Mrs. Harvey when she called her to tell all about the new family in town.

  Thelma could not wait to get gossiping with her friends. She stirred the eggs and started to dial the phone. Her eyes glinted as she looked over the invitation once more. Her heart began to flutter more and more with each ring. She managed to yell up to Kurt to turn his alarm off before Hiram answered his phone.

  “Hello?” he said gruffly, Thelma could easily tell that he just rolled out of bed and was probably just now pulling on his shirt. She highly doubted he brushed his hair, not to mention his teeth. Wait 'till she told Marie about how he hadn't been ready to go to work when he should have been!

  “Yes, Hiram, how are you?... oh me? Good, I am good… say, you did not happen to get a certain invitation on your doorstep this morning did you?... you have not checked?... Oh, you are checking now?… of course I will wait… what's that?... oh you did get one?… Well, I did too! Oh, what fun… well, yes… of course, after all, I would not want you to be late… certainly… You too… bye, bye, now, buh-bye.” Thelma hung up the phone and pulled the eggs off the heat, wondering why her two boys were not downstairs yet.

  “Boys, come on, breakfast is ready. And for goodness sakes, Kurt, turn that alarm off!” she yelled up the stairs and called Preacher Nelsen to gossip more about this dinner party.

 

  Upstairs, Gerald, annoyed by Kurt’s alarm, decided to go and turn it off himself. He knew that Kurt would not be too happy with him for doing so, but he was starting to get a headache.

  When Gerald opened the door to Kurt’s abandoned room. He gasped and then bit his cheek.

  “Kurt?” he called out in high hopes that Kurt was just behind the bathroom door, brushing his teeth maybe, or perhaps combing his hair… nah, scratch that, Kurt never combed his hair. But, when Gerald opened the bathroom door to peer inside, there was no sign of Kurt whatsoever.

   

  “Mother!” Gerald called at the top of his lungs as he ran down the stairs.

  “Gerald!” Thelma exclaimed, “I thought you knew better than to run down the stairs. You could trip and fall and then where would you be? In the hospital with a concussion, that’s where!”

  “Mother this is important,” Gerald argued.

  “You’re important. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my Gerald-wearald,” Thelma said, pinching Gerald’s cheeks with her fingers.

  “Mom!” Gerald said exasperatedly.

  “Mom me all you want. I’m your mother and I’ll pinch your cheeks if I want to. Now where is Kurt? He should be up, you know,” she said, calling Kurt’s name up the stairs.

  “Mom, Kurt’s not there,” Gerald said worriedly. Thelma’s face dropped and her heart sank to her feet.

  “What do you mean he’s not up there?” she asked, bounding up the stairs. “Gerald, if you’re joshing me…” she warned.r />
  “I’m not, oh mamma!” Gerald wailed as he followed her back up the stairs.

  Thelma searched the room high and low, screaming Kurt’s name before turning to her son and demanding that he go get his father out of bed immediately. Gerald complied and it was not long before they were all three in Kurt’s room.

  Thelma was so shaken up that she was crying. Gerald nervously twitched his fingers, wondering if he should tell that Kurt went out to the railroad tracks earlier that night or not. Peter stood angrily in Kurt’s room, arms crossed and his foot tapping.

  “Gerald…” he said. His eyebrows were raised and his head tilted to one side. “Do you know something about this?” Gerald’s hands made fists and they pressed into his slightly overweight legs.

  “Gerald,” his father warned. Gerald knew it was the right thing to do to tell what he knew about Kurt’s whereabouts. Gerald looked down at his awkwardly placed feet and told his parents about the train tracks.