Lullaby | Brahms Heelshire |

Chapter 6

May these hours be blessed.

We held the yard sale out back in the gardens around noon. It took everybody a little while to adjust from the Abby incident, but they eventually came around and we're ready to help with the yard sale. I split everyone into three groups.
I had Jen, Rick, Melissa, Mike, and Michael and Liam to go into town and advertise. They hung up signs and talked to people on the streets.
Hunter, Carry, Stephen, Dad, Jerome and me were the sales people. Everyone else, including the children helped organize and price the items. The sale was actually way better than I thought, tons of people poured in from town to purchase rare furniture that was marked for cheep prices. By 2:00 twenty people had already bought tons of stuff. I was rolling in the dough!
~*~
The sun beat down on me like a blazing spotlight. I wiped sweat from my brow and decided to step inside to check on Brahms. I hadn't been in my room since the note thing, and I wasn't sure if he was where I had left him.
What happened this morning felt like a dream, and I still had no idea what exactly was happening. The spirit of Brahms must still have occupied this house. I knew that I couldn't be crazy. The dead dog was proof of that, but part of me was still sure that all of this was all silly. That maybe one of my family members was playing play a trick on me. But then again, things began happening before they all came.
I entered the house and found my mother giving customers guided tours! She was showing everyone around my house! I wanted to march up to her and tell everyone to get out, but then I would look rude, and people wouldn't want to buy my stuff. I took in a deep breath exhaled slowly. I looked up to find two ladies that had wandered away from the tour group and were gazing at the Heelshire painting. I began to walk up the stairs and was going to ask them to go back outside but their conversation stopped me in my tracks.
"Emily, she lived next door to me. She told me that Brahms was different from the other children." One said to the other. I stepped a little closer so that I could hear better. "He liked to play scary games," she went on, "she felt bad and wanted to play with him." The woman she was talking to shook her head and looked up to Brahms in the painting. "Poor Emily." She said.
An image from the photo album flashed in my head. The frightened girl with the long blonde hair. Poor Emily. Her words echoed in my mind. Chills ran down my spine. I quickly pushed it all away.
" Are you ladies interested in purchasing this?" In my best What-are-you-doing-in-my-house-and-please-buy-something-from-me voice. The women both whipped around and stared at me like I had just scared them out of their pants. They looked at each other and shook their heads. And with that they went down stairs and back outside.
I watched them go, and couldn't get their words out of my head. Brahms was different from the other children. Poor Emily. I turned around and looked at the painting of the boy. Who was Brahms?
I entered my room and slowly and approached Brahms as if he were a venomous snake. He sat on the bed, exactly where I left him. Could he see me? Was he even in there? "Brahms?" I asked softly. "Can you hear me?" My voice shook a little bit. I tried to swallow down my fear. It was just a doll.... Well.... Sort of.
Brahms didn't move.he just looked at me, his eyes lost in an eternal gaze. I suddenly realized that anyone could just walk into my room, and for some reason I felt like someone would take him. I gently lifted him into my arms and looked into his dull hazel eyes. "Brahms I don't want anyone taking you." I looked around the wide blue room, and my eyes fell on a drawer. "I'm just going to hide you." I said giving him a fair warning. I opened one of the dark wood drawers and gently placed Braums inside. "I'll be back." I told him and gently slid the door closed.
~*~
I sat on the back porch steps it was almost 4:30 and people were still coming. I had my street team take down all of the flyers and come back to the house. Hopefully we would slow down the people coming. I had already sold most of my stuff and I was ready to be done. I looked up to find my dad helping a man his age lift a couch into his pick up. I got to my feet and rushed over to help. With the three of us we were able to lift it up.
"Thanks." The man told us. "I saw this thing years ago and I've had my eye on it ever since." Oh! I exclaimed combing some hair out of my eyes. "were you a friend of the Heelshires?" I was hoping that I would meet somebody today who knew them, so I could learn more about them well... More about Brahms. The man's face lifted as if I had just told him a joke. He chuckled and shook his head, "oh heavens no."
I narrowed my eyes, confused why he would make light of people who had just committed suicide. The man noticed my glares. "I used to be a firefighter." He explained. "Oh..." I nodded, still not understanding what the problem was with the Heelshires. "I almost forgot that there was a fire here." I said turning to my father.
The man's expression group grave and it gave me chills. "I'll never forget the Heelshires fire." The sudden seriousness of his voice sent my pulse racing. "That house went up so fast." he shook his head and looked behind me to the house. He spoke like he was in a sudden trance. "We searched and searched for the boy, but we did never find him." His eyes flicked to me, "it's probably for the best." My heart suddenly stopped. "You know,they say he killed that little girl."
I sucked in a breath as the girl in the picture popped back into my head. "Emily." I wondered out loud. "Yeah." The man nodded. "Emily Cribbs." I swallowed. My throat felt like sandpaper.
Emily Cribbs. The name kept repeating in my head like a broken record. Images of the girls face flashed in my mind again. I needed to look at the pictures again. I needed the photo album.
  Without a word I took off to the house. I could hear my dad calling my name behind me but I kept going. I needed the album. I dashed into the house and began to rush of the many sets of stairs. I got to the top floor and nearly passed out. My lungs were going to burst. I looked up to the ceiling and discovered a problem. How was I going to open the door? I looked around the hall for something I could pull the door down with.
Nothing. I searched frantically as if my life depended on it. They say he killed that little girl. Poor Emily. I suddenly stopped and turned towards my room. Brahms.
Maybe Brahms could help me. I walked into my blue room, half expecting to see Brahms on the bed, but he wasn't there. I bent down and slid open the drawer that I had left him in. It rolled with ease and my face fell when he wasn't there. A small piece of paper rested in his place. I picked it up and held it so I could see it clearly. It read, 'Try to find me Danny!'
A smile formed on my face as I read the scribble text. I folded the note and slid it into my pocket. With a grin on my face, I scanned the room. "Ready or not Brahms, here I come!" I shouted to let him know that I was looking. My heart fluttered a bit at this little game. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" My voice was laced with playfulness as I got to the floor and peeked under the bed.
"Danny?"
My heart stopped. I quickly jumped up and spun around. Jen stood at the door, the look of confusion on her face made me feel embarrassed. Her eyes search the room skeptically. "Who are you talking to?" I froze. What can I say? I'm just talking to a ghost that is possessing a doll and we are just playing a friendly game of hide and seek. "Ehhmm." I cleared my throat to have a few more seconds to think. "I thought Abby was in here. My shoes are missing so I thought she was hiding with them."
Jen stared at me, not accepting my excuse at all. I don't blame her... It was lame. Jen rolled her eyes. "Well hurry up and find your shoes. We are all heading into town in a few minutes to get some dinner." I looked at her confused. "Have we sold everything?" She nodded as if it were obvious. "Yes and we are having a celebration dinner at some restaurant in town." My heart became heavy. I didn't want to go.
I looked around the room with an eagerness to stay here and play with Brahms. I turned back to Jen. "You know, I'm not feeling well, I think I'm going to stay in for the night." I added some weariness into my voice so she could better buy my act. She stared at me with her stone face. For a moment I thought she was going to argue with me, but she simply nodded and said. "Will be back soon." As she turned and walked away.
I watched the string of cars pull out and drive down the small road. The light outside had become a hazy dark blue as the day shifted into night. I drank in the long-awaited silence. My lips curved into a grin. It was time to resume my game.
"Ready or not here I come!"
~*~
I never knew that you could have this much fun playing with a doll. Me and Brahms had just finished our fourth round of hide and seek. We had a nice system going. After I would find him I would set him in a chair and leave the room. I would count and when I was done, I would knock on the wall to let him know I was coming. I sat with him on the couch in the living room. I knew that his face was porcelain and he always remained the same, but in that lighting he almost looked happy.
I looked at him and a giggle escaped my lips and I leaned closer to him. "Brahms this is amazing!" I had no idea how this was happening or why, but I didn't care. It was the coolest thing I had ever witnessed. Things like this didn't happen in real life. Only in movies, and scary stories, and yet here Brahms was. He was alive... Well sort of.
My stomach suddenly made an animalistic noise. Hunger pulled at me. I looked out the window and saw pitch blackness outside. Where did the time go? I turned it back to Brahms. "Looks like it's time for my dinner." I begin to stand when a thought popped into my head. I reached in to Brahm's  pocket and pulled out the paper of rules. I skimmed the list, and looked back to Brahms.
"Do you eat Brahms? I asked." Not really expecting an answer from him. I knew he was shy. I reached down and lifted him into my arms. "I'm going to make us some eggs on toast." I said stepping in the direction of the kitchen.
~*~
I shoved the last bite of egg in my mouth and looked up at Brahms. He sat calmly with plate placed perfectly in front of him. I smiled and pushed my chair away from the table. I picked up my plate and wandered over to the sink. I turned on the faucet and let it run over the empty surface. Images of the little girl were running in my head again. I totally forgot about the photo album. I switched the sink off and turned around to look at Braums. I had a sudden eagerness to go back upstairs and look for the photo album. "I'll be right back Brahmsie." I said cringing at my sugary tone as I headed to the stairs.
~*~
The album was gone.
After 10 minutes of looking for things to reach the door with. I finally succeeded with a chair and a hanger. I crawled up the ladder like I was running out of time. I went to the place where the album last was, but it was gone. I searched around, looking in every nook and cranny. But it was gone. I sat back and wiped some sweat from my brow. Where could it have gone. I climbed down the ladder feeling tired that I had wasted my time. I looked down at my clothes, feeling dirty from the events of the day. I needed a shower. I wandered into my room to grab some clothes that I could change into.
Brahms sat on my bed. His list of rules rested under his small porcelain hand. "Hey Brahms." I approached him to see what he was up to. He stared at me earnestly like he was trying to communicate with his eyes. I took the papers from under his hand and lifted to read. There was a different paper in front of the little stack. It read 'schedule' on the top.
I looked across the paper. I guess this is what Brahm's day was supposed to be like. There were times and various studies and tasks listed. At the bottom of the page it said bedtime. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I gasped at the numbers on my screen. "Brahms." I said lifting him up. "It is past your bedtime."
I took him to his room and found some small pajamas tenderly folded and placed on his bed. Oh... I set Brahms down and picked up the small pajamas. I quickly changed him and folded his clothes neatly, while humming Brahm's lullaby.
I lifted his red telephone bedspread and gently set him under the covers. I tucked him in and looked down at his sweet face. Brahms couldn't have killed the little girl. He was just a boy. But the images of him in the photo album flashed in my head and my heart dropped. They say he killed that little girl. Poor Emily. He likes to play scary games.
I shuttered and pushed my thoughts away. Brahms just looked at me, innocently. I recalled the last rule on the paper. 'Kiss good night.' I leaned over and gently kissed his cold face. I stood up and smiled at him. "Good night Brahms."