“I’m so glad you decided to rent the room,” Mr. Cheever told
Ellen, his new tenant. “It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone in there and I
really needed it rented out.”
“I’m just glad it was still available,” Ellen replied. “Apartments
in the city are way higher than I expected. An entire three bedroom house was
cheaper where I come from.” She smiled. “What amenities are included?”
“Amenities?” Mr. Cheever asked.
“May I use the washer and dryer or do I need to go to the laundromat?
Am I allowed to use the kitchen?” she clarified.
“Oh! Sorry, senior moment,” he said. “The washer and dryer are
on the main floor and you may use them, just make sure to empty the lint trap
and never leave your laundry unattended. If you start it, finish it. There is
space in the cupboard for you and a shelf in the fridge. If you make a mess,
clean it up. I don’t have a dishwasher.”
“That’s fine. I know how to clean up after myself. Is there
anything else I should know?”
“Yes. Stay out of the basement. Under no circumstances are
you to go in the basement.”
“Sure. No problem,” she said. “May I move in today? I keep
my things in my car.”
“That would be fine. Welcome home. Payment is the first of the
month, no exceptions,” he added.
She handed him a check and he folded it and placed it in his
wallet.
Ellen was startled by a knock at her door as she was getting
ready for bed. Mr. Cheever called out from the other side. “Ellen? Are you
decent? I brought you a cup of tea.”
She opened the door. “Why thank you. I would love a cup.”
She took a sip. “Wow! That is good. What kind is it?”
“It’s just a special blend from the natural foods store. It’s
supposed to help you relax for a better night’s sleep,” he told her. “I’ve used
it for years. I figure with you being from the country the night sounds of the city
might keep you up.”
“That was so thoughtful. You’re right. I haven’t been
sleeping well since I left home, but you know how it is. If there aren’t any
jobs where you live, you go where the jobs are.”
He nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean. Don’t worry about the
cup tonight. You can take care of it in the morning. I’ll leave you to it then.”
Ellen woke up refreshed. She had indeed slept very soundly
through the night. Man, I’m glad I found
this place, she thought.
It became a ritual. Every evening around nine Mr. Cheever
brought her a cup of tea and she slept soundly, whereas she had never been one
to sleep that hard before, hearing every creak of a floorboard or even the wind
blowing gently through the trees – with the windows shut.
One night she set the tea down on the bedside table and it
got cold before she could drink it. It didn’t taste very good cold so she left
it until morning. She did indeed hear every little sound. Mr. Cheever was in
the basement doing something and he was none too quiet about it. Perhaps that is what the tea is about,
she thought. He doesn’t want to keep me
up with his midnight projects. “His house,” she muttered, “He can do
whatever he wants.”
The next night as she was getting ready for bed one of her
earrings rolled off the bedside table behind the headboard. She moved the table
so she could reach the jewelry and glanced up behind the headboard. There was a
book wedged between the board and the wall. She retrieved her earring and
fished the book out.
“Hmm,” she said reading the title of the book, which merely
said ‘Journal’. At first she just opened it to see to whom it belonged hoping
Mr. Cheever would be able to get it back to its owner. She saw a name inside
the cover but then her peripheral vision caught a few words on the first page.
She didn’t touch the tea as she settled into bed to read.
The journal had been started six months prior to her moving
in and ended abruptly after three weeks. Her hand covered her mouth as she
fought to stifle a scream.
The noise in the basement seemed suddenly louder than it had
before and she tip-toed to the basement door and soundlessly opened the door.
She peered down the concrete stairs and then as quietly as she could descended
them far enough to see what exactly he was doing. Her eyes widened as she
caught sight of the old man. He was building a box that looked a lot like a
casket and she clamped her mouth shut tight to keep from gasping.
She forced her eyes away as she scanned the rest of the
area. Hanging over a drain in the floor she saw a large chain attached to a
floor joist with a large bolt. The chain had a hook on one end and the floor
was stained red around the drain. There was a pegboard off to the left with
assorted tools and knives. She turned and crept back up the stairs.
“Oh my god,” she said to herself over and over. “I can’t
believe it.” She packed her bags quickly and included the journal. She thought
to lock her door and retreated into the closet as she called the police.
Whispering, she explained what she had found and that she was now hiding in the
closet. The casket Mr. Cheever was building looked to be nearly complete. She
was advised to get out of the house if at all possible and that a unit was on
the way.
She suddenly heard a sound like a lock being tripped and
peeped through the levers on the closet door. “I can’t get away,” she whispered
trying to keep her voice calm while she panicked inside. “He just let himself
into the room.”
“Don’t hang up!” the operator said into the phone. “Whatever
you do, don’t hang up!”
Ellen screamed as Mr. Cheever pulled the door open and she
dropped the phone.
“I see you have your bags packed,” he said. “Going
somewhere?”
“My mom called,” Ellen lied. “She’s been hurt and needs me
to come home. I was just making a reservation to fly home.”
“I never heard your phone ring,” he said calmly. “And, why
are you in the closet?”
“I, I had it on vibrate so the ringer wouldn’t disturb you
and I was in here so I would be quieter.”
Mr. Cheever picked up the phone. “Hello? Who am I talking
to?”
The emergency operator quickly played along with Ellen. “This
is Karen at the United Airlines reservations desk. I heard a scream. Is Miss
Davenport all right?”
“Oh, yes, quite,” he answered, “I just startled the poor
dear is all. She’ll have to call you back.” He closed the cover, hanging up the
call.
Ellen’s eyes grew wide. “What did you do that for?” she
asked him.
“You aren’t going home. I need your help with something,” he
said. He grabbed her arm dragging her out of the closet and snapped handcuffs
on her wrist before she could snatch it away.
Ellen fought back with her free hand and kicked at him but
to no avail. He was surprisingly strong for his build and had her down the
stairs and into the basement. He punched her in the face to make her quit
fighting. The blow knocked her out. He then hoisted her up to the hook and
chain over the drain.
Just as was selecting a knife the police snuck down the
stairs and aimed their guns at him. “Halt or we’ll shoot!” one of them
commanded.
When Ellen awoke in the hospital there was a detective
waiting to speak to her. Ellen told him where to locate the journal in her
luggage and he retrieved it.
He read it. “We’ve been looking for her for a while now.” He
said. Her parents called in a missing persons report months ago. We’re going to
have a forensics team check his place. There is no telling how many lives he’s
taken or how many you saved by finding this and calling it in.”
Ellen cried.
