Page 21 of Mated to the Wolves

“This way.” The voice comes from the kitchen.

I pass through the open pocket doors into the dining room. The long table is set for dinner.

Thick wooden chairs with cushions in a sage green contrast with the dark wall paper covered with birds. I enter the kitchen. It’s empty. No one’s here.

Spirits plummeting, I fight back the tears burning my eyes. It’s going to be one of those dreams.

“I don’t understand.”

“Here.” His voice comes from somewhere beneath me.

A knock comes from the wooden floor under my feet, startling me

“Are you in the basement?” I ask.

“Yes. Come down.”

The metal knob rattles and twists toward the back of the room that leads outside. It unlocks with a click and swings open slowly.

I eye it cautiously. The dark stairwell looms ahead like an abyss you can’t see the end of.

Swallowing, I move to the top of the stairs and reach for the light switch. The light reveals neatly stacked plastic bins, exercise equipment, a worn couch, and an old TV.

I proceed slowly. Straining my ears to hear anything other than the creak of the wood, I examine the area for signs of anything amiss.

“Papa?” I whisper hesitantly.

This is the beginning of the action sequence in far too many horror movies. If I was smarter, I’d

head back the way I came. There’s something strange about this dream.

“I’m here,” I can’t resist my father’s voice. Not when he’s so close after so long. I travel to the bottom of the stairs, and he’s standing across the room.

“Papa.” I race to him.

Falling into his open arms, I rub my face over his soft top. He smells just like I remember, Earl gray vanilla tea and wood.

“My girl. You’ve grown so beautiful.”

I jerk back. They never recognize me as I am now. I’ve always been forever trapped at twelve.

I look up and see the same round face with dark brown eyes, a broad forehead strong jaw, and an upturned nose identical to my own.

“Papa?” Is this his spirit? “This isn’t a memory, is it? I am here now,” I whisper.

“Yes.” He kisses my forehead.

“Why did you wait so long to come?” My voice cracks

“Your mother and I wanted to protect you, and in doing so we did you a grave disservice.”

“H-how.” I stiffen. Had he possessed this ability to visit all this time?

He glances around unable to remain still. “I can’t tell you. But I can show you.”

Releasing me, he walks over to a tall armoire. Opening the doors, he moves the winter coats to the side and knocks on the wood.

He pushes in and steps back. A small door swings open into a corridor.

---