The Marionette Chapter 5
A week had passed since the incident and despite Shannon’s anxiety of the situation, she managed to wear the cheering smile of a happy mother and wife. The weekend trip up north had been Trent’s idea. He could sense Shannon’s stress hiding underneath her cool and composed exterior. It was subtle how she coped with it. Her appetite was first to suffer — even if he offered to cook. Then came the sex…or lack of. That’s how he knew something was wrong and getting the family out of the house would be beneficial for everyone. By midweek, Trent made the reservation up north and asked the pub for them to give her the weekend off, which old Randy Stubbs was more than happy to agree to.
It was Friday morning when they packed into the Jeep and headed out of town for the peaceful drive through the Michigan countryside…and for three hours, it was exactly that.
Sylvia had slept through the first leg of the trip, which ended upon their arrival in Redhill. The Jeep rested in the oil-stained parking lot of an antique store called A Time Remembered. She awoke to her father shaking her leg by the knee.
“We’re stopping for a few,” he said. “You should come with us, stretch your legs a bit.”
“Where are we?”
“Town called Redhill.”
She sighed. “How much farther do we have to go?”
“Only a couple hours…come on. Let’s catch up with your mom before she buys half the store.”
The aging store sat on the edge of Redhill’s downtown, which itself had seen better days. Some of the commercial properties were vacant and had been boarded up. Across the street from the antique store was an empty diner and beside that stood a small dive bar that appeared to have some customers.
Shannon had a passion for antiques. Something she picked up from her grandmother who spent the better part of her weekends frequenting garage sales for relics long forgotten. Shannon took her time, walking with slow purpose as if in a museum, pausing to examine the displays; each one a showcase of history.
Dust hung in the air of the old store that was overseen by an elderly lady who was more interested in the magazine she read than the only visitors that walked about inside. Bored, Sylvia followed her father, who was trying to look interested in the trinkets and old tin signs as his wife studied an entire two aisles of oil paintings.
Shannon carefully picked through the framed paintings that were stacked on top of one another. Some of them ships; in her hands, she held a striking depiction of the fateful Edmund Fitzgerald. It was a beautiful and chaotic painting that deserved to be displayed.
Dust coated her fingers as she looked through more paintings. Each one of them getting older as she went further down the stack. Then her eye caught an unusual frame sticking out near the bottom. She moved the paintings carefully from the top of it and she gasped. Her lungs had been frozen with paralyzing fear. A cold sweat collects underneath her clothes. The painting, despite its age, was ghoulish as much as it was familiar. A portrait of an abomination— a dark and demonic figure with female features wearing a victorian-era dress.
It was a still and dreadful moment. Nothing had prepared her to once again lay eyes on the horrible depiction. She shifted her feet and backed away. The old floor creaked, every noise now amplified by sheer panic. Her eyes trained on the painting…
“Babe.”
She jumped and nearly screamed as Trent’s hand found the small of her back.
“You okay?” He asked. “You’re shaking.”
Taking in a deep breath. He’ll think you’re crazy. “Uh…yeah,” she said. “I’m okay. Just need some air I think.”
“Oh…alright.” He was holding an old Beatles album. “Look what I found.”
“Nice. Looks to be in good condition,” she said with a wan smile. “I’m gonna step outside. Maybe the dust or something in here making me feel off.”
Shannon eased herself onto the front bumper of the resting Jeep. She rubbed her temples and tried to convince herself that she couldn’t have seen what she thought she did.
Bells chimed as her daughter exited the store. “Hey mom. Check this out…”
Shannon forced a smile as Sylvia approached with a dark, wooden box. “What is it?”
“A music box.” Her daughter opened the lid to reveal a ballerina figure rotating slowly to a beautiful chime.
“I haven’t seen one of those in ages,” Shannon said. “Nana had one kinda like it.”
Trent made his exit, record in hand. “Feeling better?”
Shannon nodded. “Yeah, probably just got a little claustrophobic in there.”
The cabin was one of ten just like it, nestled in the dense woods of White Pines State Park. Shannon and Trent had rented the same one many times before, but this time Shannon felt as if she was in hiding instead of a simple getaway with her family. She tried to hide the mounting stress beneath a series of fake smiles and lighthearted jokes.
After the traditional family dinner of takeout pizza and a two liter Coke, Sylvia called it a night and disappeared to her room. Despite the television playing in their bedroom, a peaceful calm fell over the cabin.
“You doing okay?” Trent knew his wife had been under a great deal of stress. She was not her usual self. “I’m worried about you,” he added. Trent took a seat on the bed next to her and rubbed her back.
“Oh god. That feels fantastic…now you can’t stop.”
He smiled. “You’re tense.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I’ve been so out of it. With everything going on, I just needed—” she paused to rotate her neck in an effort to stretch. “I needed this babe. Thank you.” Her muscles melted beneath his fingers.
“So…that enormous jacuzzi in there is calling our names.”
She smiled. “That sounds great. Why don’t you get it started? I’ll meet you inside.”
Shannon waited patiently, her half-naked body engulfed in the pillowy embrace of the king-sized bed, her mind lulled by the sound of running water. The comforter was cool against her skin, giving her a true sense of relaxation for the first time in over a week. However, the true relaxation came as she eased herself into the tub of hot water, joining her husband in a moment of lavender-scented tranquility.
The tub was just large enough for the two of them, and despite its size, she insisted on closing the space between them. Trent held her as she rested her head against his chest. She found the rhythmic beat of his heart soothing—and amusing as it quirked slightly when her hand found him beneath the water. The past week had drained her of physical desires. She felt guilty but his embrace reassured his love for her…and for the next thirty or so minutes, she forgot all about the darkness that haunted her.