Nightmare AirBNB (Part 3)
Saturday was kind of a repeat of Friday. Without the flight and the checking in to the AirBNB. But my parents weren't speaking to each other unless they were bickering. Simon and I were nearing bestie level as we played video games together and endured the first of the five planned family gatherings. It was weird to watch relatives I barely saw except maybe once every couple years ignore me and talk to my Mom and Dad. Simone and I managed to have fun with code words and hand signals and facial expressions. We had inside jokes now and I was looking forward to ending the evening listening to podcasts with him again.
That night, under the agreement that we wouldn't split up after the lights were turned off, we listened to creepy podcasts again. I made the popcorn ahead of time and we both knew it was much creepier to listen with the lights off so we sank into the bean bag chairs for a good time. This time, we both heard something inside the locked closet. We jumped at the same time, almost knocking popcorn all over the floor, as something heavy sounded like it had been hurled at one of the walls or the door.
To say that Simon looked deathly afraid when he looked back at me would be the understatement of the year. I have never seen my little brother so afraid. The closet was on an inside wall of the building. Maybe we just heard someone from the condo behind it. That was possible, right? That look on Simon's face though. I had to do something. So I set the bowl of popcorn aside, carefully out of the way, and got up. Weirdly, it felt like the walls hunched in around us but I think I was just holding my breath and the dark does funny things when you're freaked out.
I felt Simon's cold little hand grab my wrist and stopped. He was shaking his head frantically but I put my finger to my lips, pulling my wrist from his fingers. I let out the breath I had been holding. He whimpered and it was the saddest sound I've heard him make since he was a little baby. I was determined to make sure it was nothing before reassuring him. I took several steps toward the closet and almost wet myself when another loud bang startled me into stopping. I heard what sounded like a muffled shout too and that was it.
Simon and I took the steps up to the main level two at a time. "Mom! Dad! Come quick!"
My parents stirred and I heard them exchange annoyed words with each other. Something about "your children" or something like that and a sleepy-eyed Mom shuffled into view. She took one look at us and the haze of sleep disappeared.
"What on earth is going on?" she snapped.
Simon was so pale that I was worried about him a little. He was cowering at my side when we heard a third bang. There was no denying Mom heard it. Her eyes shot upward. "Jerry, get down here!"
A few moments later we were all at the top of the spiral stairs listening for more sounds. There had been nothing new and Dad hadn't heard any of it. He looked exasperatedly at Mom. "It's already tough enough sleeping on the couch, you can't let me sleep when I'm finally asleep?"
He threw up his hands and started stalking up the spiral stairs again. Dad was on the couch? Suddenly I wanted to understand all of the moments that had taken place over the trip so far where they'd been butting heads or giving each other the silent treatment. There wasn't time for that though. Because this time, when something downstairs in the locked closet banged, it was strong enough to shake the entire condo. The railings on the stairs and the china in the cabinets in the kitchen rattled. I thought I was going to throw up.
"JERRY! 911!" Mom shouted and suddenly I was being yanked backward with Simon. Mom had gone full mama bear mode and was hauling us out the door into the hallway.
I expected to see neighbors rushing out into the hall just like us but there was no one else there. They had to have felt and heard that. It wasn't a tiny thing that had just happened.
Dad appeared in the doorway with Mom's cell phone. His own was to his ear already, his face a mirror of the terror that I had seen in Simon's. He was about to shut the door behind him when another nearly earth shattering bang rattled the condo again.
"Mom, what's happening?" I cried, not caring if tears and snot dripped down my face.
Mom was too busy trying to pull Dad out of the condo and into the hall. As soon as he was free of the door, Simon slammed it shut and the world fell into the calmest, most silent night I think I've ever experienced. That brought a neighbor though. An irritated older woman's white-haired head peeked out sleepily.
"Keep your domestic violence inside please. Some of us are trying to sleep!" She harrumphed and shut her door behind her, the smart lock playing a creepy little tinkle as it relocked.
We stood there, arms around each other, breathing heavily. Trying to calm down. In the distance I could see the lights of a squad car with no siren and, not long after, we were met by a pair of police officers who listened patiently to our story. One appeared to be a better actor than the other because he didn't quirk his eyebrows then try to cover for it while we told him what happened. Including what Simon had thought he heard the night before. Someone whispering, "Let me out."
"Alright," the male officer said. "We'll go in and check it out. Make sure it's safe for you to go back inside. You might want to call the host and let them know the police have been on the premises."
We waited for them to do their round through the house. They went in, shut the door behind them, and there was silence from inside for the better part of half an hour. Meanwhile, Mom called Millie who sounded distressed and showed up within ten minutes, in her nightgown. Which was also bright pink. She lived in one of the other buildings, I guess. I didn't care except she was all nervous energy and made Simon more freaked out.
Millie kept leaning toward the door and wringing her hands, saying things like, "Oh, I hope everything's alright. I hope they're okay." I wanted to smack her and tell her to shut up. Of course, I didn't do that. I just waited for what felt like an eternity for the police to tell us what was going on.
When they finally came back out, they were chuckling and talking about where they were going after for sandwiches. Mom stepped forward, mouth open to ask a question probably but she was interrupted.
"Ma'am, were there any drugs or alcohol involved?" the female officer asked with a routine stiffness to her tone.
"What? No," Mom protested, pulling the neck of her nightgown closer to her throat. Mom was definitely a pearl-clutcher. "We don't do anything like that."
She certainly drank her fair share of Chardonnay when she thought we weren't aware, but drugs? No. And that was beside the point. We had all experienced it. Nobody does drugs with their teenagers in a 3 story luxury condo then reports themselves to the police. How stupid did they think we were?
"Well there doesn't appear to be anything going on in there, Mr. Donnegar," the female officer explained. "We checked everywhere except the locked closet. We had no cause to break in. We heard nothing."
Millie gave an exaggerated sigh of relief and the male officer looked at her. "Who is this?" He looked irritated that he might have to edit his report.
"Oh, I'm Millie. Bartholomew. This is my unit. My ... I'm the host."
The female officer's shoulders shook with what looked like barely concealed laughter. Her face registered nothing but boredom. "Do you have a key to that closet? Maybe we could have a look and let these good folks see there's nothing to be worried about down there?"
"Oh, well, you see, I left in such a hurry. I can go get it and come back?" Millie looked like she wanted to do anything but that. She was, after all, out in her nightgown and neighbors were beginning to poke their heads into the hall to see what the commotion was about. Their smart locks chirping and tinkling. It was kind of embarrassing.
"I don't care what you show me, I'm not staying there tonight," Mom said. "Or anymore. I know what I heard. I know what I felt. And I believe my children."
Bravo, Mom! Except then Dad chimed in.
"There isn't anywhere else to go, Patricia. Everything is booked. Remember? This was your expensive vacation during peak season, Patricia. That I've paid for. I'm not letting some weird bump in the night keep me from staying right here and getting my money's worth. And Simon's imagination is just running wild." He threw up his hands and opened the door. "Probably some kids having a stupid party downstairs. Whatever. I'm going back to bed!"
Which he did. Dad stormed back into the condo and somehow it felt like a balloon deflating. I felt calmer and the fear of earlier seemed almost silly, in a way. Like maybe we had just overreacted to someone having a loud party.
Which, come to think of it, was definitely it. We'd heard it coming up in the elevator. Parties like that don't just end on Friday. They go all weekend. And get crazier as they go!
We had heard all the music and voices every single time we used the elevator over the weekend. Who knew, maybe some idiot had set off some fireworks inside the building or shot a gun in celebration. I was sure I had heard on TikTok or some podcasts that stuff like that happened all the time.
Millie slipped away as the police took final statements and wished us the best. They said we could call them again if we needed to but I could tell they hoped we didn't. They probably thought we were crazy. Now that my heart wasn't pounding, it felt more important to figure out why my parents were being this way toward each other.
Mom looked bleary-eyed, like she had been crying or was just about to. Something was so off with my parents.
"What's going on, Mom? Why was Dad on the couch? Why does he keep calling you Patricia?"
Simon, sitting on the floor with his knees hugged to his chest, flicked his eyes toward us. He had picked up on it too then.
"It's nothing, kids. Let's go back inside and try to get some sleep."
I was indignant. "It's not nothing, Mom! And I'm not going back in there right after all of that -" I waved my hand at the condo. "Whatever all of that was!"
Mom's face and the slump of her shoulders signaled defeat. "Serena Elaine, enough. We all heard some weird stuff in a new place, and we basically embarrassed ourselves in front of neighbors we have to see for the next week. Let's go inside. Now."
What happened to believing your kids?
I glanced at Simon, silently asking him if he was okay to do that. He was not. "Simon and I will sleep in the living room," I said firmly. Because I was through asking permission. We were not sleeping down there with whatever was in that closet. End of.
Mom nodded wearily and led us back into the condo. We pulled extra sheets and blankets out and made up the couch. Something in the air felt tense still. Like maybe the walls themselves were holding their breath and listening for the noises we'd heard. Or just watching us flounder in our fear.
I think we both picked up on it because Simon and I stayed awake a long time that night, whispering, scared. We could hear our parents upstairs, fighting in whispers. Eventually, around 3am, we all dozed off.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5