AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The other day, on my lunch break, I saw three groups of older women taking photos of the house with their iPads. They were reading Shirley Jackson for their book club, and they wanted to set the scene.
I think it’s sweet that the town is feeling so festive. Back in Portland, I was always the first one to drag my friends to a haunted house or a hayride. It’s nice to be a part of a community that’s similarly enthusiastic.
“Well, don’t you dare come here again, or I’m calling the cops on you for trespassing, got it?” Joseph shouts. He slams the door shut with a thud, and I can only picture the poor kid sprinting down the block for dear life, breathlessly telling his friends about the creepy guy who lives at the house.
I shake my head as I dig through my suitcase, unearthing a pair of woolen tights. My knuckle brushes against something hard, though I’ve been unpacked for months. I dig around a grip what feels like the spine of a book.
I pull upward, and my jaw drops as I realize that Beatrix’s diary is resting in the palm of my hand, without so much as a scratch on the cover.
My awe gives way to fury. I know Joseph can be juvenile sometimes, but was putting my job in jeopardy with his idea of a prank? I get irritated with him, but I don’t cut the Wi-Fi for his boring billionaire summits! I don’t mess with his livelihood.
I grip the diary in my palm so hard that my nails press into the cover and storm downstairs.
“Joseph, you need to try and be nicer to the children. You’re turning into a regular Boo Radley,” Iphigenia chides.
“Well, you need to stop encouraging them! I ran into Edgar from the community center at the gym the other day, and he told me you offered up the house to be a stop on the haunted hayride!”
“Well, that’s because I did. I wanted to run it past you first, but I knew you’d say no, so I decided to save myself the trouble.”
“Well, you were right! That’s fucking ridiculous!”
“Oh, you’re no fun!”
I clear my throat, and they both stop bickering.
“Do you need something, dear?” Iphigenia asks.
“I need to speak to Joseph privately,” I say, trying to keep my temper under control.
Again, I feel the same wash of red-hot fury that I felt during my presentation. I want to claw Joseph’s smug eyes out of his skull. I want to slam his head against a wall. I want, for the first time in my life, to destroy what’s precious to someone who has everything.
Josephs never had to struggle. He’s never had to fight for a job or a place to stay. Yet, he thinks he’s so smart. He thinks he can sabotage my career because it means nothing to him, the obvious center of the universe, so why would it mean anything to anyone else?
Joseph follows me into the living room.
“You look pissed, what’s—” I slam the diary into his chest before he can finish asking his question.
“Is this your idea of a joke? You hate that the library bankrolled this, so you’re trying to sabotage our research? You don’t think it’s true, so you don’t think anyone else should have access to the information? That’s some fascist shit, Joseph.”
He looks bewildered. “What do you mean? I—what’s this?”
“Oh, you know exactly what it is.”
“No, I don’t. Is it your diary? Did you write me a love letter?”
“It’s not my diary, you fucking imbecile! It’s Beatrix’s! I needed it for my presentation, and you fucking hid it in my suitcase like a child. God, the depths of your immaturity astound me.”
“Hang on, I didn’t do anything with your materials. I’ve never seen this before.” He grabs the diary and flips it open to the first page. “Holy shit. You were right.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
He shakes his head and starts to laugh. “Beatrix. She’s real. You fucking did it. You found your proof. And you said the library doesn’t know about this?”
“How could they? It wasn’t in the box it was supposed to be in for the presentation. I found it in my suitcase of all places.”
He looks up at me and smiles. “Well then, let’s show them.”
I shoot a wary glance in his direction, "Since when do you want to help me?" I ask.
