Prologue
“Your aunt is really…well she’s rather peculiar.” This is what my mom would say every time my Aunt Gretchen came to visit, or we went to visit her, or she sent me a letter for my birthday. She is rather peculiar.
I always found that a peculiar way to describe someone. It gives a clear enough picture without allowing for too many details.
Every time I met her, though, Aunt Gretchen seemed the furthest thing away from peculiar. She was perfectly normal. She had a nice little house with a white picket fence outside. Her house was always clean, sparkling usually. It always smelled of gardenias; somehow she knew that that was my favorite.
“But that doesn’t mean she’s bad…or weird,” my mom continued. She was always a little overprotective of her sister.
“Mom, this isn’t my first time going to her house.”
My mom nodded, “But this is the first time that you’ll be staying there for the summer. I just want you to be polite.”
“She lives next to a beach and a movie theater. I think I can survive any peculiarness that she might have.”
“Calm down, Rose,” my dad said, putting his free hand on my mom’s shoulder as the other one held tight to the top of the steering wheel, “Bailey has spent the night at Gretchen’s before.”
“I know,” my mom whispered at him, “But for the whole summer? I’m just worried.”
My dad turned into a driveway, “Well, we’re here. Those fears are gonna have to wait.”
I pressed my hands to the car window as I looked out. The house hadn’t changed at all since the last time I was there. The white fence was still pristine and the dark blue house still sat comfortably in the middle of a perfectly green yard.
The garage was still a peculiar distance from the house.
“Are you ready,” my mom asked, turning around.
My parents were historic bloggers and were given the opportunity of a lifetime: a grant that my mother had applied for was approved. They were going to some ancient ruins in Southern Africa and would be gone for most of the summer. They offered to take me with them, but I politely declined. Luckily, Gretchen offered to take me in.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite set of Bridges,” my aunt came walking out of her house with a smile and a plate of cookies. As far back as I can remember, her favorite joke always had something to do with the fact that our last name was Bridges.
My mom ran over and hugged her sister. They whispered back and forth to each other until my dad and I caught up.
“How about a chocolate chip cookie,” Gretchen offered. Also my favorite.
A dog ran out of the house and my mom shot Aunt Gretchen a stern look, a look that was usually saved for my attitude. “New dog,” my mom asked.
“This is little Qilin.”
“Qilin,” my mom repeated.
“What cheeland mean,” I asked.
“Qilin,” Gretchen corrected me.
“Qilin,” I repeated, trying to sound it out. The little dog ran over to me and began sniffing my ankles. I reached down and it started licking my hands.
“That’s a good sign,” my aunt said. My mom slapped her shoulder. “Qilin,” Gretchen called. The dog looked over to her, “Go to your house. We’ll be in shortly.”
My mom turned back to me, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Mom,” I groaned.
“Carla,” Gretchen groaned, “She is going to be fine. There is so much to do around here.”
“Yeah,” my mom said. She wasn’t convinced.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay,” my mom was running her hand through my hair.
“Mom, what do you think is going to happen?” Qilin ran into the room as soon as I asked.
“I don’t know. This is just…it’s the first time we’re going to be apart for a long time. I’m just worried.”
“About what?”
She hugged me, “That I’m going to miss you so so much!”
I smiled and pushed her off, “I’m going to miss you too, okay? But I’m going to be fine here."
She smiled, “Okay. I know you will.” She looked down at the dog, “I just wish that rat wasn’t here.”
A giggle escaped me. “It’s not that ugly. I actually kind of like it.” I patted my legs and the tiny ball of fluff jumped up and made itself comfortable.
“I guess,” my mom agreed.
“And if you ever call my dog a rat again,” Gretchen said, walking into the room, “I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”
“Of course you won’t,” my mom said. She stood up and hugged her sister, “Thank you so much for looking out for her.”
“You know this is never a problem. Besides,” she shot a devilish smile over at me, “I think she’s excited to hang out with her coolest aunt.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself. Tom’s sister just put in an in-ground pool.”
I watched out the window as my parents pulled out of the driveway. They were gone. Qilin was panting silently at my side. I ran my hand through her fur. I turned and slumped in the seat; Gretchen had a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a small glass of milk.
“You okay, Bailey?”
I grabbed the plate, “It’s just weird.”
“I promise. We’re going to have fun.” She squeezed in next to me, forcing Qilin to leap off of the seat.
“What kind of dog is that?”
“It’s a mutt,” Gretchen said, “just a little of this and a little of that.” She ran out of the room. “I saw her at the pound and I just had to have her.”
“That’s so cool.” My parents wouldn’t even let me have a fish. I got to spend a whole summer with a living, breathing teddy bear.
“It is,” Gretchen agreed enthusiastically. “Why don’t I show you around the house? It’s not big, but you’ll have your own room.”
None of the rooms were especially big. I was really worried that we both wouldn’t fit into the tiny kitchen. It was already crowded with pots, pans, plates, and cups stacked up on every surface. I thought I saw a table hidden under the mess, but I wasn’t sure.
My bedroom was even smaller. A naked twin bed sat in the corner with some flannel blankets folded on top of it. There was a small dresser in the room, a little table with an old wooden chair, an empty bookcase, and a small cupboard sitting under the sole window.
“This is…nice,” I said, looking around the room, hoping to find more.
“It’s not much,” my aunt agreed, “but we probably won’t be in the house too much this summer. You know, there is a beach right down the road.”
I smiled and began to walk around the room. I stopped at the small cupboard. There was a tiny lock hanging in between the two doors. “What’s in here?”
“It’s really more of a junk drawer than anything else,” my aunt said. “I tried cleaning up this room before you got here, but I couldn’t really find any place for that pesky thing.”
I ran my hand along the side of it. Even though it was made of wood, it felt like cold metal. Something hit the wall and I leapt back. I could feel the goosebumps slowly make their way up my arms. “Did I break something,” I asked.
Gretchen wrapped her arms around me, “Don’t worry. There’s nothing in there that you could hurt. Let’s head out. I can show you the neighborhood, the beach, and then we can get something to eat. There’s this great sea-food taco place a few blocks away.”
“Sea-food,” I stuck my tongue out.
“Bailey, this is the summer for new experiences. Now come on, I promise, you will love it.”
She was right. I laid in bed with my hands on my belly completely content. The fish tacos were to die for. They didn’t taste fishy at all.
I rolled the comforter around me and tried to get to sleep, but the light from the moon was shining in my face. I grunted and got out of bed.
I walked over the window and pulled the curtains. I turned to go back to bed; that’s when I heard it.
Thump
It sounded like a footstep. I slowly began to pull the blankets up over my face.
Thump.
A pause.
Thump.Thump.
My arms, with the blankets in tow, shoot up and I am covered. I am safe. I wait. There were no more noises. I slowly lowered my shields and looked around the room; I couldn’t see anything in the darkness. I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight.
I looked down at the little cupboard. It was still locked. I bent over and tested the lock, not certain what I would find. Nothing happened.
I slowly backed my way back to bed. I pulled the covers back over my head, but I didn’t fall asleep.
© Copyright 2025 Brian Kinsella. All rights reserved.
Regular reviews are a general comments about the work read. Provide comments on plot, character development, description, etc.
In-line reviews allow you to provide in-context comments to what you have read. You can comment on grammar, word usage, plot, characters, etc.
It's a good beginning. The characters seem likable and interesting. I'm guessing the rat, sorry the dog has a story too.
Bailey is just the right age for a story in my opinion... Young enough to still believe in magic but old enough to follow a trail without getting killed.
I enjoyed the dynamic between the mother and Aunt. That's how family is.
The bumping... Leaves you a lot of room for story development.
Cheri Perry