Chapter X
Hazel did not go near the locked room or the attic for the next few days. She kept to her room most nights. She wished more than ever that she had toys to play with or a television to watch to keep her mind busy. Mrs. Norwich was distant ever since she had been woken up that night. Hazel had to say things three or four times before her grandmother even realized she was being spoken to. Mrs. Norwich started wearing a frown at all times. It was normal for her to have a frown on her face, but this one was different. Mrs. Norwich’s usual frown was her being serious all the time. The new frown seemed to always be directed at something, what that was Hazel didn’t know.
Hazel had given up, for the time being, solving the mystery of Swansberry Hill House. Its conclusion frightened her from the clues that had already been gathered. The only problem was that the more she attempted to push it from her thoughts, the stronger it came back. She concluded that it would be best to wait out her time in the house and then go home, where she would hopefully forget about it over time.
On August 26, Hazel went down to breakfast to find bacon and eggs on a plate, and no Mrs. Norwich in sight. She ate it and then went around the house looking for her grandmother. She couldn’t find her, but she did notice that Mrs. Norwich’s door was closed. Hazel assumed that she was taking a nap. She knew old people took a lot of naps.
Hazel went to her own room and sat on the bed. She wasn’t one to take naps, but the longer she sat on that bed the more tired she got. It felt as if the house was somehow draining her energy. Her head drifted back and soon she was fast asleep.
The house was still and silent for the next few hours, save for an occasional breeze moving drapes on an open window in the living room or a bird chirping in a nearby tree.
Hazel woke shortly after two and felt even more tired than when she fell asleep. She got out of bed and sauntered downstairs, still feeling groggy. A sandwich was waiting for her. She ate it. An armchair is where she spent the rest of her afternoon. It was close to the open window and had a nice breeze coming through. She fell asleep again in the chair.
Hazel woke up to the smell of potato soup. She got up and went into the kitchen. Dinner went quietly. Hazel washed the dishes and went back in to sit with Mrs. Norwich.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” Mrs. Norwich said. “I’ve been tired all day.”
“Me too.” Hazel admitted.
“It’s just one of those days, I guess.”
“I guess so.”
“You know what?” Mrs. Norwich asked, trying to find a smile that did not look faked.
Hazel smiled at the attempt. “What?”
“It’s the twenty sixth. You go home in a few days.”
“Yeah.” Hazel agreed calmly.
“You don’t sound very excited about it.”
“I am.”
And she was excited to see her parents again and get home, but there was still so much to learn about that house. She had to remind herself that she no longer wanted to solve the mystery.
“What are you going to do when you get home? Go see that friend of yours?”
Hazel liked that Mrs. Norwich remembered Stephanie. “I’ll see her at school. Maybe you should come by sometime and see mom. I’m sure she would love to see you.”
“I doubt that.” Mrs. Norwich scoffed.
Hazel fought the urge to ask why her mother was sent away all those years ago. “You never know.”
A few hours later hazel was sitting in her room, watching the darkness outside. A noise brought her attention to her door. A light turned on nearby in the hall. It was just her grandmother going to the bathroom. She checked the old clock on her nightstand, it was almost midnight. Once again she couldn’t sleep. This time it was because she slept most of the day. Hazel continued to stare out of the window.
A grunt shook her out of her boredom. She turned instinctively to the box on the nightstand. It quivered. Hazel sighed. She didn’t feel like running around outside for a creepy old thing that as of yet hadn’t proved their worth. But despite this she watched the box anxiously. The lid flew off and she still jumped. A hairy pig hopped out. It had tusks or something that looked like them sticking out of its mouth. Hazel thought back to the animal book for the name. Boar.
Hazel nodded at it and turned back to the window. It grunted. It wasn’t a normal grunt that a normal boar would make, but Hazel didn’t know that. She had never seen a real boar on television or in person. The small creature grunted several times before Hazel looked back at it.
“I hope you know that I’ve given up this craziness.” Hazel turned her back on the little boar.
The boar grunted several more times with no reaction from Hazel. The final noise it made was not a grunt, but a shriek, the same noise the monkey had made. Hazel turned back and attempted to grab the little boar, thinking of nothing else that would quiet it.
One moment she was looking at the boar and the next she wasn’t. She didn’t think she was in her room at all. It was a dark around her. Hazel looked around. There was a concrete floor and the walls were bare. A few buckets stood in a corner and an odd machine that she took to be an old washing machine was against one of the walls. Despite the differences Hazel knew where she was. Somehow the boar had transported her to a different version of the basement. Hazel heard a soft noise that sounded like someone was crying. Slowly a young girl, about her age, materialized before her. The girl wore a white dress and had long brown hair. Hazel could only see the back of her. She tried to move but couldn’t. There was something in the girl’s arms and Hazel wanted very much to know what it was.
The girl stooped down next to the stone wall, put her finger in a small hole and pulled. A square of stone came out of the wall, revealing a hidden compartment. The little girl dropped what she was holding into the compartment and put it back into the wall, where it blended in perfectly.
A voice made the girl turn around. Hazel gasped when she saw the same face that she had seen in a picture her grandmother showed her. The only difference was that this girl did not have a doll with her.
“What are you doing, Annabella?” The voice was that of a woman.
“Oh nothing, Mama.” Young Mrs. Norwich lied.
“Well come on, it’s time for supper.”
The girl left and Hazel was looking back at the little boar. The animal was silent now. It acted as if nothing had happened. It ran to the door and waited for her.
Hazel forgot all about her want to forget about the mystery and followed the little boar out of the room and down the stairs. She ran ahead to the front door, and was surprised when the animal did not follow. It was nowhere to be seen. Hazel went around the first floor looking for it. She searched in the through the living room, down the hall, and around the kitchen, finally finding it at the door to the basement. Hazel opened the door, and it immediately disappeared into the darkness below.
The stairs to the basement were narrow and old, making them a lot scarier in the dark. Hazel took them one step at a time, making sure to select each foot position carefully. At the bottom Hazel felt around the wall for a light switch. She bumped into the washer and drier before her hand landed on it. She flipped it. Light sputtered on from two bulbs in the center of the ceiling, casting strange shadows in the corners of the room. There were no windows or any other way to produce light down there even during the day, but the room seemed darker and more sinister to Hazel at night.
The boar sniffed and grunted its way to the exact spot that Hazel had seen in the strange . . . vision? Memory? It didn’t matter what she saw, the point was it went over to the same spot Hazel had seen her grandmother at. Hazel put her finger into the hole; her finger was almost too big for it, and pulled. The compartment split apart from the wall, revealing a hole big enough to hide a sneaker box. She felt around inside, it was empty.
The boar grunted expectantly.
“There’s nothing there.” Hazel told the boar.
It grunted indignantly.
“I’m telling you there is nothing in here.”
The boar jumped up and hung half over the compartment. It looked in, saw nothing, jumped back down, and ran around the basement sniffing the floor.
“What is it? What was supposed to be in there?”
Of course she knew it wouldn’t answer, but she wanted to get the questions out there anyway. She watched patiently as the boar sniffed the entire floor. It gave her time to wonder about the little animal’s existence. It was definitely there, she could see it as clearly as she saw the washing machine or her own shoes. But then her knowledge of reality came into account. Sure she was only ten and hadn’t seen or heard of as much as her parents or Mrs. Norwich, but she was fairly sure that tiny animals who could shriek like a monsters from a movie did not exist. And yet, once again, there it was.
The boar stopped in front of her and stood completely still. Hazel thought that it might want her to touch it again and put her hand towards it. The animal avoided the touch and continued sniffing.
“Oh, please, what are you doing? There’s nothing here.”
Hazel had barely finished the sentence when the boar disappeared.
“Really? Is that it? Oh, alright goodbye.”
Hazel picked herself off of the floor and went back to her room, unsure of what had happened or if there was any importance to it. The little animal had clearly been looking for something, but what? Hazel didn’t care at that moment, she had grown very tired.
An hour later her door opened. Mrs. Norwich stepped in. She looked around the room for a minute. She went back to the door and was about to leave when she turned around and looked at the bed. The door closed silently. Mrs. Norwich tiptoed through the darkness and knelt down; pulling up the blankets that Hazel had already kicked to the floor. Mrs. Norwich felt around under the bed and pulled out the doll. She stroked its head softly. Hazel turned over. Mrs. Norwich returned the doll and left the room.