Brickston Mill

Brickston Mill

Brickston Mill is the name of a small apartment community at the end of a long road leading from town. The road, darkened by towering umbrellas of trees over rooftops, seems to continue endlessly, with beams of sunlight glittering around through the clusters of leaves. You tunnel through for miles until suddenly it opens up, and there, at the top of a hill, stand six tall buildings in Tudor style laid out to surround you on arrival. Coming up from behind its hilltop resting place, the horizon shines over a descending sea of mountains, as if the world is untouched beyond the Mill. Once you come upon it, you really feel you've arrived at your destination. A secret treasure. A perfect resting place.

"We have very little turnover here," the lady had said when I went to see the apartment. "You're lucky to get in here." She didn't need to convince me. I had dreamed of living here for years. When I saw the ad in the paper I thought it was fate. Ted and I had just separated and I had to find my own place. We had looked at the same apartment six months ago, but he didn't like it too much. Said it was too old. His simple disdain always shot through me like venom. But now, just in the nick of time, the apartment was free again. The girl who'd lived there left. Disappeared really. (Or that's what the landlady said.) She'd said there were rumors.

"She left just about everything behind…apparently something funny was going on." I just nodded. I thought I might gossip in good time. I could see the place like a picture before she showed it to me. The bar to the right as you come in. The small old kitchen open to the large living room and the giant fireplace and mantel. It was the fireplace that I loved so much. It was so large I had joked to Ted that he could make an office of it.

"I'll take it!" I had surprised her with my instant approval.

"Do you know when you will need it?" she asked.

"Tomorrow?" I raised my eye brows. I needed no time.

The next day I was unpacking boxes. By night fall it looked like home. I looked around and found that nothing in the room belonged to Ted. He really didn't have many things of his own, anyway. But independence made me smile a bit. I felt like it had been awaiting me.

In the evening, I began to settle into my new home. I slowly walked from room to room, my feet solemnly padding across the old wooden floors; taking in the height of the ceilings, the intricacy of the moldings, and the beauty of the individually paned windows. I sensed the solidity of the place. They don't build this way anymore. I opened the windows to the chilling October air and lit candles. I made myself something to eat, and sat listening for a long time to the quiet that surrounded me. All I needed now was a kitten. Someone to share it all with. I started to get some reading done for a class I was taking and read all that I could until my eyes grew droopy and the bed beckoned me to feel the cool caress of its sheets. My teacher had commented about my laziness, but how does he know how busy I've been? I went to bed.

At 1:43 a.m. I awoke with the sting of tears in my eyes and my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. I had just had a dream so real I could not bring myself back from it. I sprang out of my bed, but stood still for a long time, not knowing if I could handle the sight of my open windows. When I knew I could safely make my way into the living room, no open windows, no danger, I pulled myself from my bedroom into the large hollow of the living room. The light from outside streamed into the room in lines, hardly illuminating anything but its own bright rays. The dream reentered my mind in flashes. A girl. A man. Violent blows and blood. I couldn't demand myself to stop playing the horror show in my head. There she was in front of the bar, and there she lay in front of the fireplace. My hands and knees were shaking. I couldn't go back to bed.

Not since I was a child had I been frightened so much. In reality it was just a dream, but I felt like I had witnessed something very real; A girl fighting for her life and losing the battle.

The TV played the Best of Late Night which I was thankful for. I wouldn't have cable for a few more days. My mind was in need of distraction. It was a small help, though. I watched all night without a thought of sleep and into the morning when I was sure the sun was overhead. I barely made it to class, stumbling in to my professor's look of disapproval.

"You must have had a very exciting weekend, Mindy." he said mockingly.

"I moved." My reply was quick. I didn't look at him.

And as I sat listening to him preach about the greatness of writers past, I tried to make sense of my own personal drama. Why when everything was going so perfectly must I dream of something so ugly? Why, when life is everything I had hoped for, must I conjure up something to ruin it? Am I trying to sabotage my own happiness?

The professor stood quietly in front of me for a few moments before I noticed him there. I tried to pretend that my thoughtful expression was an offshoot of his lecture, but he didn't buy it.

"Miss Mindy," whenever he says my name, I hate the sound if it. "do you know what I've just asked you?"

"No sir."

"I asked you why you believe that Mr. Thoreau moved to Walden. Do you recall?"

"Yes sir, I think it was because he wanted to get away from everyone." I was in no mood to make an argument for my reading. I wished he would take my ignorance and run with it.

"Well, certainly that was part of it." He has a way of making me feel as if I am in third grade again. "Why else would he want to move there? Did he say?"

I looked at him with my mouth open, feeling a bit like I was hallucinating. I breathed deeply hoping the spotlight might pass me by, and yet it didn't.

"I think he wanted to see things from another perspective, like he wanted to get away and live more simply."

"Thank you, Mindy," he smiled a sickeningly satisfied smile, "for a better answer."

The last thing I needed today was more upset, but I had to deal with him or find another way to occupy my mind. I had no desire to return home. If the images were coming to me, (and they were, everywhere I went today), how entrenched would I be at home? I sat outside Topp Hall, the university's languages center, and smoked and talked to other smokers, coming and going. But as the traffic died down I felt it was time to move on.

The Mill is located somewhat outside of town. It's an odd place for some old apartments. I had always found the ride out there beautiful, although somewhat eerie, like a rainy day. Today it was only distracting. I arrived at the very moment when the sun was falling behind the mountains. The darkening sky was deepening blue. I drove to my building, turned off the car, and I sighed a lofty sigh. "It was just a dream." I said out loud to myself.

When I got out of my car an old woman was standing there. She was trying to hold onto a small dog but it sprung from her arms and onto the landing.

"Mindy, Mindy come here!" she called to her dog. I couldn't help myself.

"That's my name, too." I said, finding myself surprisingly cheerful. The old woman looked me over before asking me about my moving into the fourth floor apartment. We talked for a moment about the move; how much it cost for the movers, how I could use a man to help me, and how much she'd hate to walk up all those stairs.

"You know, it's strange how that last girl just left the way she did." she said at last.

"Where did she go?" I asked, with so much intent she was taken by it. The old lady turned from me. "No one knows really, one day she was living there, the next she wasn't. She didn't talk too much. I don't remember seeing her that much."

"Maybe she moved in with her boyfriend or something?"

"I don't know, it isn't likely… she had been friendly with the neighbor boy." At that she turned toward the door.

"Nice to meet you!" I called after her. She waved to me over her head.

I entered the building and began my ascent up the broad wooden staircase. From the second floor landing an old man stood staring at me, expressionless, motionless. Feeling a little more creeped-out than usual, I bypassed him quickly, the sound of my flip-flops snapping up behind me for the remainder of my climb. I opened my door and threw my things to the floor. I locked the door and stood listening. Nothing. I looked at the clock. 5:45. Before I could really think, I unlocked the door and ran back down the stairs. The strange old man, now on the third floor, looked surprised as I ran past. "Excuse me." I looked him right in the face, and in that moment my confidence seemed to empty from me and right into him. I ran right out of the building, not allowing myself to be moved, and made it to the office just as the landlady was leaving.

"Oh, I'm so glad I caught you!" Breathless, I explained about being spooked and my idea about a kitten.

"We do charge $250.00 for a deposit." she said.

"Can I give it to you next week?" I must have seemed desperate, she looked sorry for me.

"Sure, that would be fine."

Soon I was on my way into town. I arrived at Sam's Pets Plus, the every-kind-of-pet-in-the-world store. The owner sells all kinds of exotic animals but gives away free strays, too. I looked at all the cute little faces, the puff balls and the wild mixes of calicos in their cages. Then a little ball of energy lunged at the cage door, clinging to the wall like Spiderman. He looked at me, and I at him, and I knew he was the one.

"I'm going to call you Sammy!" I said to him on the ride home. At that point, I didn't know where he was. There were meows coming from somewhere in the back but I couldn't see him. We went shopping at the super-market. We found food, a litter box, and of course toys. By the time we got home it was eight-thirty. The strange old man I had seen before was standing outside the second floor apartment where he had been earlier. I felt compelled to say something to him, wondering why he is always standing around. I started with, "Hello."

"What'ya got there?" he smiled, reaching out to pet Sammy. His large hands rubbed and grasped the kitten, messing his long coat and chilling me from the inside out. Trying not to look shaken I say, "This is Sammy. I just got him to keep me company."

"Well, he's a real cute little guy," the man looked up over his glasses and leaned in to look deep into my eyes. He had a strange lazy stare that was for some reason peculiarly penetrating. His hair was a dirty, mousy brown with sprinkles of gray. His long faced reinforced the blankness of his expression. He hadn't taken his hand off the kitten, and I could feel him brushing my wrist with his thumb while he continued.

"Thank you. I thought he was pretty great." I stepped to the side to remove the man from me and my kitten, and turned up the stairs.

"What was your name again?"

"Madeline Roberts."

"Nice to meet you, Madeline." The way he said my name made my skin crawl. I'm almost never called by my real name. I've been Mindy since I can remember. For some reason I didn't want him to know that.

When I got inside I felt safe behind the locked door. It seemed that the feeling of danger had shifted from the unreality of my dream to the very real, very creepy man living in 2-B. I'd put Sammy down to explore his new home when the phone rang. (Cool, the phone is working.) I ran to my bedroom to grab the receiver.

"Hello?" My mother's voice on the other end is the very thing I'd been hoping for.

"I've been calling you all night, where have you been?" my mom sounded worried.

"I went to get a kitten, oh yeah, and I'm going to need to borrow $250." I had my fingers crossed.

"Two Hundred fifty dollars!! You got a kitten for two hundred fifty dollars? Are you planning to show it? I thought you were going into accounting, Mindy?"

"Mom, I feel creepy all by myself. I had a bad dream last night. I don't want to be alone."

"A bad dream and now you've bought a $250 cat."

"I have to pay a deposit, Mom, the cat was free. And he's so cute. I named him Sammy."

"What's creepy now, Mindy? I thought you loved that apartment. You wouldn't look for a cheaper one because you had to live in that apartment."

"It's so weird, there was this girl who lived here, and she disappeared. Last night I dreamed about a girl being murdered in the living room."

"Mindy, it was just a dream, honey."

"I know, Mom. It scared the crap out of me, though. It felt real."

"But it was a nightmare Mindy, not a premonition. You must have too much to worry about, you're just stressed." My mom always thinks I'm being dramatic.

"I'll be home next Tuesday."

"Next Tuesday? I thought Friday?"

"It's only a couple more days, don't worry. I'll come by when I get home, ok?"

"Okay," I start to feel sad, "I'll see you next Tuesday."

When I got off the phone, the apartment suddenly felt so overbearing. I started to feel the urge to remember my dream, but blocked it out. After playing with Sammy for awhile I finally felt tired enough to drift off to sleep.

It wasn't too long before I was awake again. Sammy was lying next to me on the pillow, his comfort and ease so distant from my own feelings. He came over and rubbed up against me, his soft fur on my face, the sound of his purring gently easing my spirits. For a moment I forgot where I was, until a gripping fear rushed over me when I heard the sound of creaking under the door. Is it the living room? Is it out in the hall? Realizing that I've had another nightmare, I start to panic. I wanted to leave the apartment right then, but didn't know how to escape. My worried thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a man's voice talking loudly in the hallway.

"Hey man…I left my damn keys in your car… dude…hello?" I heard him say. "Hello…shit."

Then there was a loud knock at the door. Because I was already awake, I checked him out at the peep hole. He was cute. Tall, with messy brown hair, and obviously drunk. He didn't remind me of the guy from my dream, I decided, so I opened the door.

"Hi, I'm your neighbor," he smiled a great big smile at me, "I left my keys in my buddy's car and my cell just died… hey, I didn't mean to scare you." He looked at me and narrowed his eyes.

"I know you. We went to Westminster School together. You're Mindy Roberts, right?"

"Yeah, um, what's your name?"

"I'm Patrick O'Brien. I left in 7th grade when I moved in here with my dad. You still a math wiz?" He stumbles in and tries to steady himself at the bar.

"I'm sorry, did you want to use the phone?"

"Oh, yeah. Hey, I didn't mean to bother you. I used to know Rachel, she lived here before you. She used to be up a lot like me. I thought I heard someone. I guess I forgot she wasn't here."

"Yeah, she left." I said, replaying the same story I kept hearing.

"You know, she did. She didn't even take everything. Kinda wondered why she didn't ever say anything, but you know how girls get…" He looked at me and smiled his flashy smile again. Then he seemed to sober up, "I don't know what happened to her."

"Maybe she was murdered." I saw no reason to pretend I didn't suspect it. He was probably too drunk to know what I was saying, anyway.

His gaze slowly made its way around the room and back to me."I would've called the police, but I didn't know what to say, you know? Hello? Yeah, I wanna report my neighbor's missing, no, nobody seems to care, yeah I used to hang out with her sometimes, but I didn't see anything…hear anything. I didn't want to look like an ass, you know?"

"Why would you?" I was getting defensive.

"Why should I make a big deal out of it? She left. She took some stuff, I think. I didn't want to make trouble for her, you know? Rachel was a cool chick."

"I don't know, seems kinda weird to me." At that moment we heard a door slam downstairs. And after a few moments a door opened, and then another.

"Everyone here's so damn nosy." He looked at me with sad eyes.

"Wouldn't someone have heard something if something had happened to her?"

"I guess, but I don't know. You can't really hear… I would have, if anyone."

I thought of telling him about the dreams, but it was too soon, if ever.

"Why don't you close the door." He said finally.

"I was just going to."

He was looking a little pale after our conversation. I decided it would be okay to lock the door. Patrick continued, "I really did want to say something. I wanted to wait first, see if anyone missed her. She said she had a dad up in Wisconsin or somewhere, but I never heard anything. It's been over a month now." He stood in the middle of the floor looking lost.

"Rachel and I had a weird relationship. She might have been mad at me when she left."

"You think she left?" I hoped he would tell me what he thought, that he suspected something, anything, but he never did.

"Look it's late. My friend's not coming back. Can I crash on your couch? It's two o'clock I have to work tomorrow."

Normally I wouldn't have let a stranger stay in my home, but nothing felt normal anymore. I was scared, I wanted him to stay. For some reason it felt right for him to be there.

"Yeah, you can sleep on the couch, I guess."

I got some blankets and gave them to him. Pretty soon Sammy and I were asleep again.

The next morning I awoke to find Patrick standing over my bed. Not expecting him to be there, I screamed.

"I heard something in your fireplace last night." He said.

"Oh," I said relieved, “I have a cat," I called out for the kitten.

"No, it wasn't your cat, it sounded like stones scraping. I want you to come check it out with me."

I got out of bed and we walked into the living room together and stood in front of the fireplace. It was so dark and deep we both stood studying it before Patrick started to act.

"Ok, you hold the light for me while I get in there and look around." He grabbed my lamp from my end table and handed it to me. Inside the walls were made of stone slabs. He started to feel and push around until coming to a spot in the corner of the right wall.

"This is strange," he started to pull at the slab and it began to move until finally he had opened it up to a passage way.

"Normally this would be really cool." he said, his mouth hung open as he sat in front of it.

"Close it! Close it right now!" I couldn't hold on to my fears anymore. I broke down, sobbing heavily while he moved the stone back into place.

"Don't freak out, okay? I'm going to put your coffee table in front of it for now." He grabbed the table and wedged it into place.

"Look… see? The wall can't move." He stepped out looking at the fireplace with the table wedged in it. "What the hell?" He said to himself, and he started to look upset. I was still sobbing.

"I had a dream. I had two dreams. This girl was killed here, she was dragged from the bar to here, and he kept hitting her until she wouldn't struggle anymore." I cried harder as I told him.

"What did she look like?" He seemed to think I had seen her, but I didn't know what to say. I said only what I had remembered.

"She was blonde, I guess?"

He got very pale and then started to put his jacket on. "My friend's coming to get me to get my car. I left it at a bar last night. Can you wait here? I'll be right back, we'll go to the police." He wrote down a number and handed it to me. "Here, call me if anything happens."

"I guess. Okay." I was in a daze.

"Okay," he leaned down into my face, "I'll be right back."

When he left I bolted the door. I stood by the window until I watched him get into the car and leave. I desperately wished I had gone with him. He hadn't been gone long when I heard a noise in the fireplace. In a panic I started toward the door, but waited for a moment, what if I was caught in the hallway? Quietly, I opened the door and shut it behind me. I stood listening in the hallway for any noise. A door opened and shut a few minutes later and the sound of footsteps led down the stairs and out of the building. I started down the stairs then, trying to wipe away the tears that ran from my eyes. As I was leaving the building the man from 2B was standing outside with the old lady. She called out, "Mindy, oh Mindy!" But I got into my car pretending that I didn't notice.

I drove fast down the winding street, watching Brickston Mill fade out of sight behind me. The comfort of escape was lost to me. Every thing had become a part of something dark and threatening. In every place there could be lurking a devil. I didn't know when I would be safe or where safety was. I needed to call Patrick. We needed to go to the police.

It was about five miles to the first gas station. I pulled up to a pay phone and looked frantically around for change. When I couldn't find any, I ran into the store and asked the man behind the counter if I could use the phone. He wouldn't let me. I had to buy a drink to get change. I was starting back to the pay phone just as the man in 2B pulled into the lot. I didn't look, just kept a steady eye on the phone.

"Hello?" Patrick sounded urgent on the other end.

"Patrick, it's Mindy."

The old man called out to me, "Mindy? Is that it then?"

"Patrick he's here! Where are you?"

"Meet me at the McDonalds on Bryn."

"Mindy, right?" The old man started to walk toward me. I got into my car and sped out of the parking lot, though I didn't get far in the morning traffic. The man stayed with me all the way to the restaurant. When I got there, Patrick was alone.

"Let's go," he said, getting into my car. The old man pulled up behind me, blocking me in. Patrick got out of the car and started to argue with him. I got scared and ran into the restaurant. They followed me inside.

"Mindy, don't go with this boy, he's a killer." The place got quiet and everyone turned to look at me.

"You know you hurt that girl, Patrick. You know you did." The man looked calm as he taunted him. Patrick wasn't calm.

"Move your fucking car! We're going to the police. You're done, we can prove it."

"I'll come with you, I'm not afraid to talk to the police." The man stood staring at Patrick, daring him to make a move. Patrick turned to leave, motioning for me to follow.

"Let's go," he said. I followed him out the door.

We hardly spoke in the car. By now I wanted nothing more to do with it. The old man followed us to the police station. When we got there, he parked in the far corner of the lot and Patrick and I pulled up front. We were on our way inside when the man called to Patrick.

"You didn't really like Rachel, did you Patrick?" Patrick turned to hear what he was saying.

"What?"

"You know, I saw you and her. I watched you." The old man lured him to the corner of the lot, away from safety. And like a fool I followed him.

"What do you mean you watched?" Patrick demanded.

"I watched you seduce her, make love to her...I watched." He seemed amused by all this. Patrick went up to the old man.

"How …when?"

"When you brought that girl over you broke her heart."

"I didn't mean to." he said in a low voice. He looked to me for forgiveness.

"She was crying for you the night I went to her."

Enraged, Patrick went to hit him, but before he could the man pulled a gun from his pants.

"Put your hand down, Patrick." He said disgusted, "I don't believe you are angry with me! You would have wanted to be done with her anyway." He waved his gun around as he spoke.

"Get in the car." He motioned to Patrick, then, he looked at me. But we didn't move.

"Don't worry," Patrick said "He can't shoot us here."

"Why not?" The old man grinned.

"Are you really going to shoot me here at the police station?"

Bang. Patrick slumped over the car and fell to the ground. The old man turned the gun to me and for a moment, time stood still. I felt the wet of morning mist dampen my face. My body chilled and numbed as shock set in. I heard the loud ring of another shot fill the air around me and felt nothing. The man's blood sprinkled my face and at first I thought it was rain drops. When he fell to the ground the police rushed in from behind and I started to awaken from my nightmare.

I learned later that Rachel's murder had happened a lot like I had seen it in my dreams. The police found her battered body stuffed in the back of the old man's closet along with some of her things. Among them was a letter she had written to Patrick telling him how much she loved him.

Patrick survived the ordeal. But the heartbreak had changed him. I hear he moved to another town, started a new life. As for me, I returned to Brickston Mill only once, and that was to get Sammy. After that, I never went back.