The House Next Door Page 3

  Jenna lifted her face to that sun and gulped a mouthful of fresh, cool air.

  "Maybe," her father said, "it wont be as bad as you ladies think. We've got a great fire department."

  "Sure Daddy." Jenna agreed, sharing a look with her sister as they linked arms and made their way to the car.

  ***

  It wasn't as bad as they had thought it would be, Jenna reflected when they parked near the curb of the house a short fifteen minute drive later. It was worse. Red and blue flashing lights still cast a strobe like glow over their entire side of the street and although most of the neighbors had gone into their own houses, Jenna noticed curtains and mini blinds shifting clear down the block. All four members of the Jones family climbed from the car and stood looking, side by side, at the mess that stood before them. The house was pretty well gone. What wasn't completely charred was still smoldering and being given a final spray with the firemen's high pressure hoses.

  What had once been a full two story house now looked much, much smaller. Jenna knew there used to be an upstairs to their family home, but it was long gone now. The whole upper floor appeared to have collapsed into the main floor below and been torched to clumpy black ash. The tree that used to stand guard outside of Jenna and Keira's bedroom windows was still standing and that was somewhat comforting, even though its dark waxy green leaves were brown now and clung only half heartedly to their darkened stems.

  Mama's pretty flower beds that had rimmed the house in bright yellows and pinks and blues were nothing but dark brown lumps of weeds littered with ugly black debris from what was left of their house.

  "Troy..." Mama whispered, stricken, "it's gone. It's all gone. Everything." She took a shaky breath and continued to stare at the house in a state of shock and disbelief. Jenna could relate. The longer she stood there on the sidewalk with her family, her eyes fixed on the rhythmic back and forth motion of the wide tan brown hoses that kicked up a steady steam of dust and fine black ash, the more unreal the whole scene became. Everything was gone...

  The afternoon became a blur.

  At some point, Mr. Henderson from three houses down came and approached the still in shock Jones family. He spoke quietly with her father while Mrs. Henderson, one of the English teachers at her sisters high school, swiftly but gently led the rest of the family down the block, through the side gate and into the Henderson’s sunny yellow on white kitchen.

  The room was small but cheerful and bright and one of the cleanest kitchens that Jenna had ever seen. She'd been in the Henderson home several times before; her mom and Mrs. Henderson often had coffee together and the Henderson’s daughter Macy was a frequent visitor in the Jones home.

  Jenna looked around now but didn't see her friend anywhere in sight. Nor did Macy come running down the stairs like she always did-something that was strictly forbidden in the Henderson household since it was unsafe but also because Mrs. Henderson had a serious fear of stairs. Macy had been running down the stairs anyway, every day, since she was two years old. At twelve, Mrs. Henderson didn't seem to harbor any real hope of making her stop, though she still made the effort to scold her every time.

  "Coffee." The woman was saying now as she pressed a fresh mug into Carla Jones' hand.

  Jenna noticed that her mama's hands were shaking just a bit and felt her own fear and anxiety creep up on her once again. Her clothes, her shoes, her books, her cd's, the box of hand written notes from Macy, her pictures and yearbooks and baby blanket...

  She buried her face in her hands and began to cry. Gone. It was all gone.

  Chapter Six

  Psalm 51:10 Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.

  The Red Cross workers came that night, just as the Jones and Henderson’s were pushing away from the table. The dining room was surprisingly spacious though with seven people gathered around the full sized round table, it was a bit on the crowded side, even with Mrs. Henderson's extender leaf adding to the dark polished surface. Jenna had sat with her sister and watched as her mother helped Rhea Henderson take the leaf that was reserved for holidays and dinner parties out from the back of the hall closet; together the women had hefted the matching three by four foot board into the center of the table. Rhea had cooked the biggest pot of chicken and vegetable soup that either Jones girl had ever seen and Jenna was surprised to find that she was not only able to eat, but that she'd finished two extra large soup bowls full by the time the Red Cross knocked on the door.

  Mrs. Henderson herded she and Keira into the living room while Mr. and Mrs. Jones met with the kind faced Red Cross workers. Jenna couldn't see the four adults seated at the freshly cleared dining table; the rooms partition extended too far out for that to be possible, but she could hear and to her way of thinking, if her parents and the Henderson’s had meant for the meeting to be some big secret, she and Keira would have been taken to the guest bedroom at the back of the house.

  The room was an add on, Jenna knew, a last ditch attempt to make the tiny house a little more spacious. It was done in blue and a pale color that reminded Jenna of chocolate milk before enough of the Nesquik powder had been spooned in. She remembered now the day she and Macy had been scolded for trying to use the beams that had been newly laid over the foundation as balance beams. Picturing that long ago afternoon in her mind now made her even sadder-would anything be normal now? And what of her house? She swallowed and lowered her eyes to the sable brown carpet. Her house was gone. Did that make their family homeless? Jenna's brows snapped together over troubled eyes; She hunched her shoulders and seemed to sink deeper into the blue couch. The fact that Macy was away until Monday on a camping trip with an aunt and uncle only made things worse.

  "Again, we're sorry for your loss." She heard the man with the red hair say.

  "Thank you for coming out here." Her father was saying.

  "Pastor Zanette says you do mission work in California." Red hair mentioned conversationally. The crisp sound of paper being shuffled and shifted reached Jenna's ears and she pursed her lips, listening half heartedly.

  "Yes, I do go to Los Angeles from time to time."

  "That's quite a drive." The man whistled.

  "I suppose that's true enough, although I take a plane-it’s much faster that way."

  Jenna frowned as her father laughed. How could he act so...so normal at a time like this? She wondered and laid her head against the plump arm of the sofa. Beside her, Keira slept, awkwardly draped over the opposite arm of the sofa. Her sister had fallen asleep almost immediately after they had taken their seats in the living room.

  Jenna closed her own weary eyes and tried to concentrate on the voices in the other room. The Red Cross was giving her parents two thousand dollars for what the man called emergency expenses and they were offering vouchers for three free nights in the local motel to help get them by until they could make more permanent arrangements. She heard both of her parents say thank you, decline the money and the vouchers, and tell the man that they had insurance-they had insurance?

  Jenna's eyes popped open and she sat up straight. She managed to wait until her parents had sent the men on their way-with a ten dollar donation and an offer to come to their church on Sunday, before she rushed into the Henderson's brightly lit kitchen.

  "We have insurance?" She demanded.

  "Yes, we do," her mother replied, gesturing for her to take a seat across the table. "Didn't you know that? Where’s Keira?"

  "No, I didn't know that and Keira fell asleep-on the couch."

  "You look tired too." Her father commented.

  "A little. So we're going to get a new house?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh Thank God." Jenna crossed her fingers and exhaled, relieved.

  "Have you thanked God today for your life? And the lives and health of your mother and sister?" Her father was asking, though not unkindly.

  "What?" Jenna stammered, raising her eyes to his. He didn't look angry or disapproving but his words gave her pause
and she looked away, a little ashamed to realize that the answer to his question was 'no'. She'd felt glad and relieved and vaguely grateful at times throughout the day but she hadn't said thank you to God...she'd been too upset about...her stuff, she realized, shamed all over again.

  "The house is just a house, don't you think?" Her father was asking with a smile in his voice.

  Jenna dared to look up at him. He looked tired but his eyes crinkled a little at the corners, the smile reached his eyes.

  "I guess so. I just got upset and worried earlier because I thought we were homeless now and my...things...are gone." She tried to explain.

  "We're home any time we're all together Jenna." Her mother set down her coffee mug and smiled slightly. She looked even more tired than Jenna's father. "But I'm sorry that all of your things are gone. I'm sad about my things being gone too, truth be told. I think that's pretty normal, all things considered."

  "You know," her father added, "we can make new memories, right?"

  "Right." Jenna nodded, feeling a little bit better. Not much, but a little and suddenly it was enough.

  "We have to hold onto our faith and take care of each other, especially on days like today. These are precisely the sort of times when a persons colors shine through for all the world to see-and we want our light to shine bright. Do you know what I mean, Jen?"

  Before she could answer, there was a knock on the door and a slim woman in a pencil skirt and a white blouse poked her head into the house. She wore mostly gray; even her pumps and over-the-shoulder purse matched a gray tailored jacket. About the only thing on her that wasn't a plain color was her hair. That was a rich, deep red. The woman smiled and quickly introduced herself.

  "I'm Lynn Sanders. We spoke on the telephone yesterday, Mrs. Jones."

  "Oh-you're the social worker-oh no, I'd completely forgotten!" Carla Jones exclaimed to the older woman, dismayed.

  "I saw your house," the woman was saying, "a neighbor told me what happened. I'm so sorry Mrs. Jones. If you cant take Alyssa now, our agency completely understands."

  "No, no, we're still happy to have her with our family." Her mother insisted.

  Troy Jones nodded in agreement and scooted his chair back toward the table while his wife did the same.

  "Is she hear? Can we meet her now?"

  "Ah," the social worker clearly had not expected the Jones to still be willing to take the girl in so soon after losing their house. "If you're sure..."

  "We're sure," Mr. Jones replied with another nod. "My wife and I will be building a new house and in the meantime we will be renting the house next door."

  "We will?" Jenna croaked.

  "You will?" The social worker beamed. "Well that's great then." Her smile remained as she turned to speak to someone behind her.

  "Alyssa come inside and meet the Jones family."

  Chapter Seven

  Proverbs 15:1 A soft answer turns away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

  Alyssa LaRue was tall and slender for her age-a whopping nine years old-and she had very dark, very long hair. It was tangled around the ends but clean and very pretty, Jenna decided, sneaking another covert glance at her new housemate. They were walking through the near empty aisles of Wal-Mart, the one in nearby Dover county because it was open twenty-four hours and everyone besides Alyssa looked positively exhausted. While the girl didn't have the same road weary look as the Jones clan, she didn't exactly look comfortable. Jenna supposed she couldn't blame her for that. She glanced at her Mom and her Dad and Keira and thought of Blake and she couldn't imagine not being with any one of them. Was Alyssa feeling like that about her own family? Who were they? It was impossible not to be curious about the LaRue family, about the little girl with the long not quite black hair and the nervous eyes. What had happened to her? Why couldn't she be with her family? Jenna was old enough to know it must have been something pretty terrible for the girl to have been taken from her home, from all that was familiar. Did she dare ask? But one look at Alyssa revealed a stiff shouldered, awkwardly straight backed walk; no, Jenna decided, she would just do her best to mind her own business. Alyssa would surely be even more uncomfortable if she were forced to answer a bunch of personal questions to a complete stranger and Mama had already told both her and Keira that they were to make the new girl feel welcome-and well, not like a new girl. That was something Jenna understood more completely than most people would have guessed. She’d felt nervous and jittery and ‘new’ on her first day of middle school. Just remembering how her palms had felt damp and her whole body had been tense and shaking when her turn had come to stand up and introduce herself to the class made her feel queasy all over again-and sympathetic toward Alyssa. How terribly alone and scared she must be feeling...

  "Mom," She hurried to catch up to the rest of her family. "Can I take Alyssa to the kids section to help her pick out some new clothes?"

  "Sure, but we were all going to head that way in a few minutes."

  "I know, but I just thought she might be more comfortable without all of us watching her pick out her clothing." Jenna explained.

  "Hmmm. Well, maybe you're right." Mrs. Jones agreed. "But keep a good eye on her, okay?"

  "I will Mom."

  "Alyssa, honey, Jenna's going to take you to pick some new outfits, okay? Get whatever you need."

  "Yes, Mrs. Jones." Alyssa said in her softly timid voice.

  "Alright then, meet us by..." she thought for a minute "how abut we meet at register number three in say, fifteen minutes?"

  "Sure Mom." Jenna nodded.

  "You girls have fun."

  "So," Jenna turned to the girl with a smile on her face once they were alone, ready to be positive and helpful.

  "Yeah right." Alyssa voice was no longer soft or timid and Jenna decided that the expression on her face could only be called a frown-or maybe a scowl.

  "Excuse me?"

  "I don't want any new clothes." She replied, clearly cranky.

  "You don't?" Jenna frowned. Who didn't want to pick out new clothes? Granted they weren't doing it under the best of circumstances, but still...

  "No, and I am not a kid." She angrily informed Jenna.

  "O...kay." Jenna tried yet again to smile at the younger girl. "I know that you must be-" she began, only to be interrupted.

  "You don't know. You don't know anything. I don't want new clothes. I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to be here, so just leave me alone, got it?"

  "Uh..." Jenna faltered, not knowing quite what she ought to say to the prickly little girl.

  "Oh yeah and I don't like you." Alyssa finished, sticking her small pink tongue out before turning and stomping off.

  Well, Jenna thought with a sigh as she watched the girl tromp toward the back of the store, at least she’s going in the right direction.

  "Alyssa wait for me-I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you!" She called out.

  She stopped at the edge of the children’s department, but hung back just enough to give Alyssa some privacy, while staying close enough to watch over the surly kid.

  Alyssa was not thrilled at having Jenna 'watch' her and she made her displeasure known by frowning at her twice more before she'd finished choosing a new six pack of underpants, a package of neon green socks, two pairs of jeans and two t-shirts; one in lime green and the other decorated with pumpkins and black stars on a bright orange background.

  "What about shoes?"

  "I don't need shoes." Alyssa glared balefully. "My shoes are fine."

  "I didn’t say they weren't." Jenna said in her own defense. "What about a toothbrush? And a hairbrush?"

  "Oh yeah," the child grudgingly conceded, "I guess I do need those things."

  Jenna nodded. Come to think of it, she needed a new toothbrush too. she needed everything really, but thinking about it made her stomach hurt all over again and so she forced herself to remember her fathers words from earlier that evening, in the Henderson’s kitchen. Things didn't matter, she t
old herself-people mattered. Even crabby, cranky, snippy little nine year old people with too long, not quite black hair and brown eyes.

  "I need all that stuff too," she told the girl. "come on, if we hurry we can get to the make-up aisle and to the front of the store in a couple of minutes."

  "I don't wear make up."

  "I know but that’s where the hair brushes are kept."

  "Oh." Silence and then. "So your house burned down."

  "Yes."

  "That must have sucked." Alyssa admitted.

  "It did."

  "I still don't like you."

  I don't like you either, Jenna thought rather uncharitably. She had a feeling this was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter Eight

  Hebrews 4:16 Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

  "I'm not going in there." Jenna whispered an hour later.

  "You're not?" Keira frowned, looking from her sister to the house.

  "No. I thought I could do it, but I cant. I’d rather...I’d rather sleep outside." She declared.

  "Oh, sure." Keira smirked, hitching her new backpack full of new clothes higher before shouldering Jenna out of the way. "If there is some maniac running around the neighborhood you'd be so much safer outside."

  "Keira wait-what if he comes back?"

  "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I just hope that he doesn't."

  "But he might." Jenna insisted, lowering her voice and scooting over to the side of the yard that was slightly overgrown, pulling Keira into the shadows with her so their parents wouldn't hear. "I don't want to go into that house. It’s...creepy."

  "You're the one who told me that it wasn't haunted."

  "I know that. It’s not, of course." She explained. "It's just creepy, like I said, and I'm scared that the man will come back. I mean it Keira."

  "Jen." She sighed and glanced up at the house. The look on her face admitted that it did look especially foreboding tonight.

  "What if he's dangerous?" Jenna persisted, "What if..."

  "What if he only breaks into empty houses?" Keira countered, playing the voice of reason. "What if he's run away to Canada by now?"