Morning Drive

Morning Drive

By Lauren M.

         The sun just began its ascent over the horizon, its light casting a reddish tint in the sky. A light, cool breeze blew through our jackets as we entered the car and headed out for an early morning drive. With no plan in mind, my husband and I decided to head into the smaller towns, away from the traffic and crowds that bigger cities tend to impose, never really having the chance to appreciate the charm and appeal these smaller communities exude. As we drove through the towns, all the cottages and shops blended together, making them all a blur in my mind.

         “Huh?” James inquired.

         “What is it dear?

         “I have no idea where we are.” James said as he glanced at the microscopic street signs in the distance.

         “James, why did you continue to drive on roads you don’t know?”

         James just shrugged and focused on the road. While looking out the window and admiring the scenery, there was one house in the distance that caught my eye. One that looked strangely familiar.

         “James, stop the car!” I reached out and grabbed his arm, which was gripped tightly on the steering wheel.

         “Honey what’s wrong? Did something just run out into the road?” James sounded concerned as he quickly hit the brakes, sending the car to a screeching halt.

         “No, nothing ran out. Look over there.” I pointed to the small cottage straight ahead, hidden by the forest of tall oak trees. He tried looking past the trees, but he couldn’t see what I was pointing to.  Before my husband could stop me, my feet took over and the next thing I knew I was on the grass heading behind the trees. James hurriedly rushed out of the car and began chasing after me.

         “Christ, Liz! What’s-” James blurted out.

         “That house!” I interjected.

         James’ eyes followed in the direction to which I was pointing to the yellow-colored house that stood a couple hundred yards away in the forest thicket. “I can’t believe it. This might sound crazy, but this cottage looks exactly like my dollhouse I played with as a child. The style and color are the same too.” I told my husband as I continued to keep my eyes fixated on this place.

         “That’s what your dollhouse looked like?” He asked while raising an eyebrow.

         Something about this house drew me in; it emanated a mysterious force, one that no spell could break. Suddenly images from my childhood began rushing through my mind; first came Christmas morning when Santa had brought me the dollhouse; then flashbacks of me and my best friend  placing the furniture in the house, and playing with the miniature family inside, pretending they were real. More memories invaded my mind. I remembered when I left for college; my grandmother stored the dollhouse in her attic, where it currently sat collecting dust.

         James studied it, admiring the craftsmanship and the hand-painted columns holding up the foundation. The sign above the door read, Welcome to the Whistling Willow Bed and Breakfast.

         “Well it is lunchtime,” James said as he looked down at his watch.

As we walked up the steps to the front entrance, our reflections glistened off of the two large French doors.

         As we entered the miniature-sized foyer, I couldn’t help but feel as if we all had shrunk to half our size. Glancing around the lobby area and into the common room, I noticed that the furniture had a retro appearance, with its velvet texture and flowery designs on the couch cushions. The familiar color arrangement, style of the furniture and the wallpaper design left an eerie feeling come over me. I reached out for James’ hand for security. Seeing the trepidation in my face and body, he quickly grabbed my hand and held it tight. He leaned in and whispered to me, “Do you get the same uneasy feeling I do? I feel like this is a dream or a movie of my life.” At that point I knew I wasn’t crazy.  We were both in this together.

         “Hello, welcome. You folks need a room?” The elderly staff member asked as he came in from the next room.

         “We just want food and directions to get back home.” I politely replied to the stranger.

         “You’re in luck, the chef just finished preparing today’s meal for our guests. You’re welcome to join them.” He then pointed us in the direction of the dining room.

         As we headed into the dining area, most of the guests stood around the table mingling with one another, chatting as if they had been friends for years. Once we entered the room and made our way to the table, a middle-aged couple approached us. While we never met before, they looked awfully familiar to me, from their dress all the way down to their mannerisms. The older man immediately shook our hands while his petite wife offered a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Jack and this is my wife Francine. We haven’t seen you here before. Is this your first day?” The middle-aged man kindly asked.

         “Uh yes it is. My name’s James and this is my wife Liz. It’s nice meeting you both.” As James begins to tell the couple how this place caught our attention, I couldn’t shake how much the older couple reminded me of someone else, yet they seemed so unreal at the same time.

         It wasn’t long before we sat down and food was served to us. While the guests were enjoying their meals, my husband asked to nobody in particular, “Where did you folks park at?”

         After a minute, nobody responded or even acknowledged his inquiry. Instead they went back to their conversations. When James went to pay for the food he noticed his wallet was missing. He patted down his pockets, double checking if his wallet was there, but had no luck. I glanced over at James, who was peeking his head under the table, thinking maybe it fell on the floor.

         “Something wrong?” The innkeeper asked James as he walked out from the kitchen.

         “I seemed to have lost my wallet.” James replied perplexed.

         “Oh it’s alright. We all have lost something at some point, sir.” The innkeeper strangely said.

         “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” All the guests responded in unison. As James stood up to leave the dining room, he saw a watch on the coffee table that looked to be a high-valued piece of jewelry. As he tried to get my attention, he turned back around to the watch, but it had disappeared. I entered the living room to rest a while, when I looked over on the sofa and noticed a rag doll sitting there against the pillow. As I approached it to get a better look, I couldn’t believe how much it resembled a doll my grandmother had given to me as a child. Taken aback by its familiarity, I quickly ran in the other room to tell James about my discovery.

         “James, you’re not going to believe what I just found.” As I pull my husband in the direction of the living room, I noticed the doll had vanished. Blinking my eyes to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, I began to feel like I was in a dream.

         “Honey, are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Let’s go take a tour of this place. Maybe we’ll happen upon my wallet.” I grabbed James’ hand and followed him through each room of the cottage, in search of his wallet. We then made our way upstairs and searched all the bedrooms and even the bathroom. Suddenly I stopped in my tracks.

         “What is it dear?” James asked me concernedly.

         “Do you notice that everyone is gone? Since we’ve been going through this house, I haven’t seen one lively soul.  And where is all their stuff? Well, they’re probably outside enjoying the fresh air.” James started downstairs toward the front door as I followed closely behind. As my husband gripped the doorknob to open it, it wouldn’t budge. He checked the lock and the deadbolt, thinking it was just locked tight. But the deadbolt wasn’t fastened. The doors were sealed shut. We then ran to the back of the house hoping to exit that way, but a strange voice interrupted our steps.

         “Is there a problem folks? Don’t worry. The back door won’t open either. I guess you’re stuck here.” The tall elderly man, who we met earlier, confronted us.

         “What is going on here? Where are all the other guests? Is this some kind of a game? If it is, we’re not playing. You give me my wallet back and let us go.” James clenched his teeth in anger and raised a finger to the creepy man. Realizing we were in danger, we demanded the truth.

         “Well, isn’t someone being impatient? I don’t normally reveal my secrets, but you two seem like a nice couple so I’ll tell you. You coming across this house was no accident.” He then turned and locked eyes with me. “Liz, this house is really the dollhouse you played with as a child. And James, I know this house looks exactly like the model you and your father built when you were ten years old. Everything in it is from your past.” The innkeeper headed into the dining room and fixed himself a drink.

         “Where are all the guests? I know they were here. I wasn’t imagining them.” James followed closely behind the man.

         “Well, it seems they won’t be coming back. In fact, you could say they’re a part of the house now.” The innkeeper told us cryptically as if he was holding a great secret.

         Fearing for our lives, James rushed at the man with fists out and offered a stunning blow to his face. As the man lay injured on the floor, I quickly ran to the nearest window, picked up a chair and tried to shatter the glass. But the chair just stuck to the window like a modernist sculpture.

         James looked down to where the old man fell but found no one. Then I suddenly turned around and saw the man right at my face. “Now you’ll see the house as it truly is,” he utters proudly.

         His arms rose above his head in a mystical fashion and then the house’s true form was revealed. Walls crumbled around us as an old, decrepit house took shape. Realizing it was just an illusion; we looked at each other in horror and fell to our knees. I looked up and noticed all the missing guests standing around us.

         One of the guests approached me and put her hand on my shoulder and quietly said, “We are trapped just as you are.”

         As James stood up and walked toward the group, another guest said, “You’re one of us now. But don’t worry, you get used to it after a while.”