Indebtedness

Professor Nalder, Dear Sir,

you have probably had more than enough E-mail since the article in Time magazine but my need is urgent and I have no-one near at hand to whom I can turn.

I am a mechanical engineer and took up my present position about seven months ago as it seemed my only chance of advancement. In my former employment it had become clear that promotion was a social function and I am not the hale-fellow-well-met type. So getting in at the very beginning of a green-field startup was attractive even though its site is somewhat remote from the major centres. I would like to be able to say that I was chosen for my experience in the appropriate field but the fact is that no-one else applied. We are building a new wood-pulp mill with one or two paper machines to be added sometime in the future.

The local town was established in the steam days as a rail settlement with engine sheds and workshops to provide banking-engine assistance over one of the difficult sections of the rail system. That need is long gone but the town, though slowly withering and grotty, has stubbornly clung to life.

Our mill is seen as its salvation. Property values have risen steeply and, with the influx of construction crews, rental properties are, for the moment, impossible to find. Our company is developing a new subdivision and ready-built housing will be trucked in but that is months away to coincide with the hiring of production staff most of whom will not be found locally. I tell this to make it clear that if I leave the house that I am at present renting, there is little chance of my finding another. And it is the house that is the problem. Its history I do not know.

My wife, Sharon, hated coming here, leaving friends and relatives behind and questioned whether any advancement was worth the upheaval. It took a lot of discussion to have her finally understand my feelings of frustration and lack of fulfillment and that the experience gained would allow me to find a good position back close to the city at some later date. I have been working thirteen day fortnights with long hours and she has made no new friends here, there is nowhere to go, and our boys are away at boarding school. When problems began to arise, I assumed that the long hours she was forced to spend alone were the cause.

She began to complain that the house did not like her and she was quite serious about it. She began to have small mishaps, cuts, falls, and a twisted ankle. The house was supposedly causing them. A typical incident is that she put a casserole on to cook one afternoon and, after about an hour, went for a walk to get out of the house. She came came home to find the oven turned off and as cold as if it had never been on. The house again she said although at the time I was inclined to think it forgetfulness. Then it became noticeable that she would not go into one of the rooms. “I’m not allowed,” she said when I asked why.“The house forbids it,” which was so stupid that I picked her up and carried her toward the room to show that she was being foolish. She began to struggle and scream and it was more than just fear. There was such a cry of real pain that I was forced to put her down.

And the house in her telling became more malevolent. She was becoming an emotional wreck. “You think I’m being silly don’t you,” she continued to charge me and, in truth, I did but it was worth more than our marriage to say so. I could see no way to set her mind at ease but the matter was taken out of my hands. She fell down the back steps, pushed she insisted, and broke her pelvis.

So it was hospital first and for her convalescence we decided it best that she stay with her sister some two hours drive away and then, perhaps, remain there until another house became available. We speak on the phone every night and every fortnight, I drive over on Saturday evening, stay over Sunday, and come back in the early hours of Monday morning. It was hoped to get one of the local women to come in during the day to clean up and prepare an evening meal. I did advertise but got no answers.

Doing for myself was not easy given my long hours at the site. Even in my bachelor days I was an indifferent housekeeper and a worse cook. Eating out is not an option here. My sister-in-law and Sharon began to help by preparing extra portions of their evening meal and freezing them for me to bring back in a chilly bin. All that I am left to do is take the containers from the freezer and pop them into the microwave. They do my laundry as well and I naturally contribute to the expenses there.

For a start, I noticed nothing strange about the house. It could be that the abnormalities were too subtle, particularly for a confirmed sceptic and I discounted the first that came to my attention. I was taking stock one morning before leaving for work. I was going to call at the mini-market on my way home. I checked the refrigerator. We have a plastic device on the door, a permanent shopping list with little slides that move across to remind you of needed items. One of those things that you buy as a good idea and then never use and hardly ever notice. But notice it I did this time and it was showing an exact list of the very things I needed. It could only be a coincidence. Unless I’d set it absentmindedly but I didn’t think so.

That evening, I came home to find that the breakfast dishes had apparently disappeared. I had left them, I was sure, in the sink ( the house has no dishwasher ). I found them washed, dried, and put away and I had no memory of doing this. Either I was losing my memory or someone else had been in the house. Getting in wouldn’t be too hard. Both front and back doors have an inside bolt and on the front door it is permanently closed, the key has been lost. But the back-door lock is primitive and the bolt cannot be on when I am out. I made a check to see if anything was missing but I could see nothing amiss except that the house looked noticeably cleaner than when I had left it. But who would break in to do cleaning?

Since then, my breakfast dishes have been done for me and I have taken to leaving my supper dishes as well. And my laundry began to be done, washed, ironed, and put away but I could not allow that to continue. I now take my soiled clothing out each morning to a plastic rubbish bag in the trunk of my car. There is no way that I can tell my wife of these strange goings-on and the lack of dirty laundry would require some difficult explanations. My marriage is fragile enough as it is. I asked the neighbours on either side if they had seen anybody entering the property but they were adament that they had not.

Then, I began to find one of the frozen meals heated and waiting for me. If this was meant to be a joke, somebody was certainly going to extreme lengths. And the strange thing was that it did not matter what time it was that I arrived home. It could be six o’clock or even as late as nine or ten if some problem had arisen and yet the meal would always be hot. Someone had to be signalling my leaving the site and the indications were that it had to be one or other of the neighbours that was getting in, possibly with a key from a former occupant. My guess was the widow on the right although we had not met until I asked her if she’d seen anyone. If I had reason to pass through the township during the day, I would call at the house but was never able to surprise anyone.

That is the way it was and I say that because things have changed. Yesterday evening, I found that my pyjamas, slippers, bed-side table, and radio-alarm-clock had been moved and I knew exactly where they would be. In the spare room that Sharon said that she was not allowed to enter. We had used it to store the boxes of non-essential items that could be left packed until we found somewhere permanent. The room also contained a bed. We had left it unmade, just the bed frame and the bare mattress but now it was made-up with bedclothes that I did not recognise, my pyjamas were on the pillow, my slippers beside it on the floor, and the radio-alarm-clock was on the bed-side table. Someone was inviting me to move into that room and reminding me, I know not how, of favours done and my accrued indebtedness. Somehow that room has a special significance. And I did feel an obligation yet knew that I dare not comply. I shifted everything back and slept in the usual room. This evening I found it all shifted there again.

I am writing this to you from the site and it is the middle of the night. I started to write this back at the house but, even as I typed the heading, I became aware that someone or something was reading over my shoulder. I feigned the sudden remembrance of something left undone, how well I do not know, and came out here. I must now steel myself to go back.

I am afraid of what will happen next. As I mentioned above, my chances of finding other accommodation are slight and this job is very important to me. How long can I safely co-habit with this thing, woman or whatever, that attacked my wife and drove her out?

And now…… finding herself spurned……what will she do to me?