Tommie Lyn

The Girls in the Hall

This story first appeared in West Florida Literary Federation's
"Emerald Coast Review XIII."

Sissy looked at the sepia-toned photograph of the first girl. The expression in the girl’s eyes was indecipherable. Sissy wondered what the girl had felt at the moment the shutter captured her image, what she had thought. At times, Sissy thought she had a glimmer of understanding, a tenuous grasp of the emotions that had filled the small, thin body of the girl, but then the perception would slip away, leaving her puzzled, wondering.

The first girl wore clothing which fastened her to the days of the past; a calico dress with a white collar and puffed sleeves. The sleeve bands encircled but didn’t touch the thin arms that hung, lax and mute, the hands partially hidden in the folds of the gathered skirt.

She moved to the next photograph that hung on the wall in the hall of Gran’s old rambling two-story house. Three-stories if you counted the attic. The attic where the children were forbidden to go.

The second girl looked a bit older than the first. Probably about twelve. Sissy’s age. She wore a full skirt that had a stylized dog printed on it, a poodle whose leash swirled and curled up the skirt to the waistband. She had on a shirt that was open at the collar and sported a scarf tied around her neck at a jaunty angle. Like the first girl, she had no smile on her lips, and her eyes that seemed to look into Sissy’s didn’t reveal her feelings.

The girl in the third photograph was dressed in jeans and a sweater, wisps of her long, light-colored hair wafting in a slight breeze. Like the other two, her faraway look revealed no secrets.

Sissy sighed. She was fascinated with the girls on Gran’s wall, had been mystified by them as long as she could remember. But each time she asked questions about them, Gran found some excuse to bustle away, leaving those questions unanswered. Except for the names of the girls and who they were. Mama had told Sissy that the first girl’s name was Mae and that she was Gran’s aunt. The second was Pamela, Gran’s oldest sister. And the third was Lisa, Mama’s oldest sister. That was all she knew.

But she sensed a pervasive sadness in each girl. A sadness that she saw in each face.

That’s silly, she told herself. You just think they look sad because you’re so sad about Mama and Daddy.

At the thought of her parents, Sissy turned from the photographs and sat on the telephone bench, shoulders hunched, clasped hands pressed hard on top of her knees, fighting for control of her emotions. She leaned her head back, rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and barely averted the spilling of the tears that filled her eyes.

She wished she could run away, far away from the turmoil and heartache that had descended upon her with the breakup of her parents’ marriage. Their conflict hadn’t ended with the decision to end their marriage. Now they were locked in combat over custody of Sissy, her brother, Daniel, and sister Winona.

“Hey, Sissy,” Amber called, peering through the screen door.

Sissy cleared her throat and blinked. “Come on in.”

“What ya doing?” Amber said as she sauntered down the hall.

“Oh, nothing much.”

“You been looking at those pictures again, haven’t you,” Amber said, sighed and shook her head.

Sissy shrugged.

Amber leaned close and whispered, “I heard something today about those girls.”

“What? What did you hear?”

“Let’s go out back and I’ll tell you.”

“Amber!” five-year-old Winona said when she appeared in the kitchen door. She trotted down the hall toward them, having heard Amber’s voice. She liked Sissy’s friend and wanted to be included with the “big girls.”

“Hey there, Winnie the Pooh,” Amber said. “Whatchya been doing today?”

“Me and Gran are making cookies. She’s cutting them off the roll and I’m putting them on the pan.”

“Sounds like fun. You go watch the cookies and let me know when they’re ready to eat. Ok?”

“Ok,” Winona said and hurried back to the kitchen.

“C’mon,” Amber said to Sissy. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t speak again until they were in the shady backyard, in the small plot near the back fence. It seemed private, concealed by shrubs that almost surrounded it, and the two friends considered it their own special place. Amber’s mother had told them that once, long ago, there had been a playhouse on that small patch of grass. It had been torn down when she was still a girl.

“Well,” Sissy said after she settled herself on the grass cross-legged. “Tell me about it.”

“Miss Jane came over for coffee with Mama this morning. They didn’t know I was up yet, so they were talking about stuff they usually keep hush-hush around me. But I heard what they were saying.”

“So, tell me.”

“They talked about some girls that lived here a long time ago. Said the girls disappeared and were never seen again.”

A chill finger of apprehension traced a line from the base of Sissy’s spine, up her back to her neck. She shivered. “When? When did it happen?”

“It didn’t happen all at once.”

“How did it happen?”

“Nobody knows.”

“What else? Is that all they said?”

Amber looked away from Sissy, seeming unwilling to continue.

“They did say something else, didn’t they?”

Amber plucked a clover blossom and seemed intent on removing the tiny tubular petals, one by one.

“Tell me!”

Amber looked into Sissy’s eyes. “Miss Jane said, if it was her, there’s no way she’d let a girl your age stay in this house. Mama told her--”

“Why? Why wouldn’t she?”

“--your Gran had no choice, what with your parents’ divorce and all. That you and Winnie and Daniel had no place else to go right now.”

“But why wouldn’t she let a girl my age stay here?”

“Because you’re the age those other girls were when they disappeared.”

Sissy fell silent.

“Hey, you’re not going to let old fussbudget Miss Jane upset you, are you?” Amber asked, patting her friend on the shoulder. “Just forget it. I thought you’d think it was funny. I didn’t know it would upset you.”

“I . . . I’m not upset . . .” Sissy said, her voice trailing off.

“Yes, you are,” Amber said. “Look. I’m sorry I said anything.”

“That’s ok.”

*    *    *

Two days later, on Thursday, Daniel got sick. By Friday morning, his fever was raging, and Gran was alarmed. She decided to take him to the doctor.

“Sissy, you take Winona and see if you can stay at Amber’s house until Daniel and I get back. I’m sure it’ll be ok with her mama. I’d ask her myself, but I . . .” she broke off as she looked at the small, flushed boy in her arms, and worry drew prominent lines around her eyes.

“Ok, Gran.”

Sissy stood on the edge of the porch, watching Gran back the car out of the driveway. Winona stood beside her, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“Let’s get dressed and go to Amber’s,” she said, taking her younger sister by the hand.

“Ok. But I’m hungry.”

Sissy hesitated for a moment. “I’m sure Gran won’t mind if we have a bowl of cereal first,” she said, and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

As she spooned cereal into her mouth, Sissy let her eyes wander around the kitchen, absent-mindedly resting them on the various objects hung here and there. A large clock made in the shape of a cat. A picture of a rooster crowing. A bowl of fake fruit on top of the refrigerator. A board in the shape of a key with rings of keys hanging from the hooks on the bottom of it. Her eyes stopped there.

One of those keys, the single one on the end probably, had to be the key to the hasp lock on the attic door. Sissy tore her eyes away. Gran had always given orders that the children were not to even go near the narrow flight of steps that led to the attic.

She ate her cereal, trying to keep her eyes away from the board with its metallic array. But they returned. Again and again, seeming to be drawn by some force outside herself.

By the time the girls had finished eating and were dressed, Sissy had made up her mind. She’d take one look in the attic, then they’d go to Amber’s house. For some reason, she felt she had to see what was in that attic, had to see what it was that Gran didn’t want her to see.

She convinced Winona to go into the living room to watch cartoons, with the promise that they’d go to Amber’s house soon. Once her little sister was engrossed in one of her favorite animated shows, Sissy slipped into the kitchen and took the key. She walked up the stairs, step by step, unsure of herself now that she’d decided to disobey Gran. If she stopped now and replaced that key, no one would ever know.

A thought came to her, No one’s going to know, anyway. Who’s going to tell them?

The key glided into the lock. Sissy turned it and the lock fell open. She removed it from the loop on which it hung, pulled back the hasp and replaced the lock on the loop. And turned the doorknob. The door creaked as it swung open. She drew a shaky breath and stepped inside. A murky light from the dirty dormer window fell across the dusty floorboards. And revealed that the attic was empty.

“Huh?” Sissy said aloud.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but, all the mystery and all the taboos--for nothing? Her shoulders drooped.

“Oh, well . . .” she said, and turned to leave. And stopped.

In the corner, pushed against the wall, was a small trunk.

She approached slowly and knelt in front of it. She touched the carved, arched lid lightly, ran her fingers along the contours. And smiled.

What treasures might be hidden inside? Gold? Jewels?

Nah, you’re just being silly, she thought.

Sissy took a deep breath and opened the latches. She lifted the lid. “What?” she said.

In the half-light, she saw that the trunk was filled with clothes. What a disappointment. She rested a hand on top of a folded scarf and felt a hard object beneath it. She pushed the scarf aside and picked up the picture frame that had lain under it. Sissy stood and walked close to the dormer where the light was stronger. And got a closer look at the photograph in the frame.

There was a playhouse in the picture, by the back fence, the beginnings of shrubs planted around it. And three young girls stood together in front of it, smiling, holding hands. Sissy recognized them.

As she stood looking at the picture, at the girls’ happy faces, a warmth and contentment flooded through her, replacing all the misery she’d felt for so long. The darkness of the attic receded from her view, transformed into the brightness of a sunny morning, and the girls in the photograph began to beckon to her.

*    *    *

Gran frowned when she saw the open front door. She’d have to speak to Sissy about leaving the door open. Her frown deepened into a scowl when she heard the cartoon music coming from the living room. She stopped in the doorway and shifted Daniel to her other arm.

“Winona! What are you doing here? And where is Sissy?”

“Uh, I don’t know. She said we were going to Amber’s in a minute or two.”

“Sissy!” Gran called. She laid Daniel on the couch and stomped into the hall.

And screamed when she saw the fourth photograph on the wall.