The Strange Lady by H. R. Knight

H. R. Knight attended journalism school at the University of Missouri and film school at U.C.L.A. He has worked in educational television and radio, the insurance industry, and software marketing. Eventually, he gave up trying to convince the people around him that he was normal, and dropped out to write horror stories and mysteries. His first novel, What Rough Beast is published by Leisure Books.

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 7,
Subject: I miss you

Dearest Daniel,

You haven't even been gone one whole day, and I have to write to you. I'd call, but I know Atlanta is three hours later than here in Southern California. By the time I got all the stalls mucked out and the horses exercised and fed tonight, it was nearly eleven-your time. It seems so unfair that you have a business trip the week after we move into our new home. :-(

Still, I know that your miserable, time-consuming company is the reason we can afford this wonderful ranch in the canyon. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed today, can you tell? An infant, a new ranch to run, and a dozen horses to take care of. But even with all the work, I'm glad that so many of the borders have decided to keep their horses here through the change in ownership-really I am.

And I'm especially grateful that Dolores has agreed to stay on with us after Mr. Ehrlich sold the ranch. Without her to watch Cassie, I don't know what I'd do.

I just had to tell you-this evening after I finished checking the stalls for the night, I walked out onto the rear deck. You know what a lovely view it has. The way it hangs out over the canyon--who would believe that only a few stilts into the hillside could support it? But they do. I turned to look down the canyon just as the sun was setting. All the hills had turned a hazy mauve-row upon row of them. On the ridge across from us a live oak's branches looked all black and spidery against the sunset. The stream at the bottom of the canyon was gurgling and I heard the splash as a fish jumped. A stray breeze brought up a whiff of wild sage. It was all so beautiful I started to cry. I couldn't believe how lucky I was. How could Mr. Ehrlich bear to give up this place-and at such a bargain, too?

I know you bought this just to indulge me. Thank you, Daniel. A horse ranch is something I've dreamed of since I took my first pony ride when I was six.

Well, enough gushing at you. I have to get to bed. Five thirty will come early tomorrow, and I'm exhausted. When you get back, we have to look into replacing that railing around the deck. Cassie could fall right off. I'm sure it's over a hundred feet down to the stream bed. Until you can look at it, I'm keeping the French doors locked.

I hope the merger goes through all right. Write me when you can.

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 7,
Subject: A mystery

Dear Daniel,

I need to have a talk with Dolores. This morning I asked her to fold the laundry while I went out to haul shavings to the stalls. Two hours later I came in to check on Cassie. I was panting and sweaty-and not in the best of moods to begin with. What do you think I found? The laundry had been flung all over the living room. Shirts were hanging from lamps, underwear positively littered the carpet. The violence of it was a little scary. That kind of thing seems very unlike Dolores. She's always so agreeable and eager to please-why would she do that? If she didn't have time to do the folding-or just didn't want to, she should have told me. I can't deal with passive-aggressive behavior right now. And on top of all of this, I still have two stalls to clean out before lunch.

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 7,
Subject: More mystery

I just talked to Dolores. She swears she *did* fold the laundry and left it on the sideboard, just like I asked her to.

"Listen, Misses," she said as she bent over to gather up the clothes, "I'll fold them again. Don't you worry." I didn't know what to say. Finally, I asked her what she thought had happened. "I left the windows open," she said, "and a wind must have blown them around. That's all."

Well, I was out hauling shavings that morning, and I'd have given my left tit for even a little breeze. There was no wind, I can tell you.

I didn't realize it at the time-I was in such a hurry to get back to the stalls-but while we were talking, she never did look at me. And Daniel, now that I think about it, her voice was so odd.

But Dolores seemed as surprised as I was at the mess. I hope she's not unstable. I can't have someone like that watching Cassie.

By the way, Cassie has come up with an imaginary friend. She calls her "the strange lady." I hope this isn't a sign she's having trouble adjusting to the move or my being so busy with chores. Really, I don't think so- Cassie is so cute about it. "They" had tea this afternoon. Cassie made a point of showing me the two places that she had set out on her little table-as though that proved her friend was here. She even told all about their conversation. "She doesn't like Dolores," Cassie said. "She wants me to tell you that you should hire somebody to look after the horses. Then you can fire Dolores and just take care of me"

Can you believe it? This from a four year old. Looks like she's inherited your managerial skills. God knows what we're in for by the time she's sixteen. I had to work hard to keep from smiling. But I reassured Cassie that I loved her. I explained if we got a few more renters and some people who wanted riding lessons, maybe we could afford some help with the ranch and then I could spend more time with her.

Cassie sighed, and said, "Well, at least I have my friend. She says I remind her of her daughter."

I'm afraid this imaginary friend means she's lonely. I must find other children for her to play with. If I can get all the ranch work down to a routine by next week, I'll have time to think about it.

When Cassie showed me her tea table, I noticed that her cup was empty, but the other was full. I couldn't resist teasing her. "Didn't your friend like her tea?" I asked her.

Cassie answered me quite seriously, "She didn't want any tea. But we still had una visita buena." Our little four year old is learning Spanish. I guess she's picking it up from Dolores. It surprised me, but I suppose it's all right.

This fantasy of hers is rather amusing, don't you think? I mean-she has an accountant and a horse trainer as parents-you can't get much more pragmatic than that. Honestly, where does she get it?

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 8
Subject: Cassie

Daniel,

I don't know what I'm going to do. It seems a war has broken out in our little paradise. This afternoon I had just finished making sure all the stalls had water and was checking in at the house. What do you think I found? The laundry got tossed again, only this time it was the dirty clothes from the upstairs hamper. The mess was even worse than before. Clothes hung like a kind of smelly holiday garland from curtain rods to picture corners to ceiling lights. Some had even been wrapped around the Tiffany pole lamp.

It gets worse. They were in tatters. Someone had slashed them to ribbons with a nasty little boning knife from the kitchen. And, oh Daniel, someone had stuck the knife clear through one of Dolores's dresses, pinning it to a couch cushion.

I say "someone," though of course there are only two people it could be. Dolores was standing in the room, looking shocked, as well she might.

I went over to her. "I'm sorry about your dress," I said.

She spun around, and I'm sure I saw fear in her eyes. But she tried not to let on." It's all right, Misses," she said, "It was old anyway."

"It was Cassie who destroyed the clothes, wasn't it?"

"Misses, I'm sorry. I don't know-"

"Well, there were only two people in the house, weren't there? Was it you?"

Dolores looked down. "No, Misses."

"That doesn't leave us many choices, does it?"

She didn't answer. I went upstairs to find Cassie. You'll never believe the first words out of her mouth: "It wasn't me. The strange lady did it."

Well, I wasn't going to stand for that. "You must never take a knife out of the kitchen again. It's dangerous."

She looked me right in the eye and said, "I didn't take the knife."

Daniel, I don't know what I'm going to do with her. She kept insisting the strange lady did it. "Because she doesn't like Dolores. She wants you to get rid of her."

"Cassie," I told her, "That's enough. This was a very bad thing to do. And it's even worse to lie about it.

"I'm not lying!" she shouted. "She wants Dolores to go. And if you don't want to look after me, she will."

"Cassie, this is the last time I'm gong to tell you-I need Dolores. She's not going to leave."

But she went on, "Dolores hates me."

"Just because I made you shut off television and take your nap?" I turned around and there was Dolores in the hallway. I don't know how much she'd heard. I suppose it was enough.

"Misses," Dolores said to me, "I told her to take her nap and she got crazy. She shouted at me and called me names."

Daniel, if you could have seen Cassie. She looked like she wanted to kill Dolores. I tried to be firm, but I'm afraid my voice wavered as I said, "Cassie, you apologize to Dolores."

She set her lips and shook her little head over and over again-left-right, left-right.

I said, "I'm sorry, Dolores. We'll buy you a new dress."

"No Misses, you don't have to."

"Yes, we do."

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 9
Subject: Write to me

Daniel, you simply must write to me. I don't know if I can stand much more of this. Things are even worse today. I was fixing a waterer, when I heard shouts from the house. I dashed down from the corrals and inside. The door to the deck was wide open-that's where the noise was coming from. I raced outside. There was Dolores holding Cassie in her arms. Cassie was kicking and screaming. When Dolores saw me, she called out, "Help me, Misses!"

I took Cassie from her. I swear, she was like a wild little animal, shrieking and swinging her arms and legs. And I now have the bruises to prove it. I kept calling her name, but it did no good. At last she ran out of energy and went limp in my arms. Her hair was disheveled and she was panting. We both were.

I carried her inside and set her down on sofa. I waited for her to say something, but she just drew her knees up and hugged them. Finally, I blurted out, "What do you mean going out there, when I told you not to?"

Cassie said, "I didn't-"

Daniel, I lost it. I started shouting at her, "Don't you lie to me! Didn't I just carry you inside myself? I'm sorry I can't be with you every minute of the day, but I have work to do. I can't put up with your tantrums."

She set her little mouth, just like I've seen you do, Daniel, when we disagree about something. It would have been cute, if I hadn't been so angry and frightened. But she had gone into full-pout mode. She wouldn't say word one to me. I sent her to her room for a time out. It felt so inadequate, but I just couldn't think what else to do.

Only after Cassie had gone did Dolores come over and talk to me. Then the words tumbled out of her, like she wanted to bury something under them. "I'm sorry, Misses. She found the key to the outside. I was picking up the clothes again. I didn't see where she went. When I caught her, she was walking to the edge. It looked like she wasn't going to stop. I grabbed her and she started screaming and kicking at me."

I felt so sorry for her. "You knew it was Cassie who threw the laundry around the first day, didn't you?"

She nodded. "I was afraid to tell you."

"Why on earth would you be afraid?"

"That you'd think I couldn't handle her. Maybe do what she said and fire me."

"Dolores, when Cassie's being like this, I don't know anyone who can handle her."

Then I went up to my room and cried for ten minutes. Is this my fault? Have I focused so much on the ranch that I've neglected Cassie? Am I turning her into a monster? I'm going upstairs to talk to her now. Whatever will I say?

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 9,
Subject: Our Daughter

Cassie and I had a talk. Or rather, I talked. Oh, Daniel, it's like she doesn't even hear me. I've got to find some help with her. But let me tell this in order.

I gathered my courage and went to her room. I had no idea what I was going to say. I opened her door and peeked in. What do you think I saw? She was singing and playing with her dolls. I said, "Cassie we need to talk."

She turned around to face me. I don't know what I expected to see, but I was shocked. She smiled at me and said "Hi, mommy." It was like nothing at all had happened. Here I was all upset, and she looked positively carefree. I swear I wanted to slap her. Of course, I did no such thing. I said, "I'm sorry you aren't happy here."

"No, I'm happy. I have my friend. But she's not happy. She's sad, mommy. She misses her daughter."

I decided to face her fantasy head on. I'm sure that's what a professional would tell me to do. I drew a breath and said, "Cassie, I have put up with your stories so far, but the time has come to tell the truth. There is no strange lady. You stole a knife from the kitchen and you destroyed our clothes and you went out onto the deck when I told you it was too dangerous."

Then Cassie did the strangest thing. She walked over to me and gave me a hug. "I'll be all right, mommy. The strange lady says she'll take care of me-like I was her own daughter."

I'm out of my depth here. I'm going to call Dr. Levine see if she can recommend a therapist. But for now, now I have to buy new underwear and jeans for me and Cassie both. And I *must* buy Dolores a new dress. I really can't spare the time, but we need clothes. I'll go into town this afternoon.

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 9
Subject: I'm desperate

Daniel, I left a message with your secretary. You must call home. It's all so-so-I don't know what. I'm afraid something is very wrong with our house. And-well, wait till I tell you.

I've just come back from the library. Dr. Levine didn't call back right away, and I decided it would be good to get Cassie out of the house. She seemed willing enough to go-she's still acting like there's nothing wrong. I think that frightens me more than anything else.

Anyway, the shopping went well and I found the cutest dress for Dolores. Afterwards, I took Cassie to the library. They have a lovely children's section with plenty of picture books. We gathered up a handful and I told her to choose four.

It turns out there's an entire bookshelf down in the basement on local history. I looked through it while Cassie sat beside me, trying to decide which books to check out. Guess what? Our ranch is part of the first land grant from the governor of California when the state still belonged to Spain. And our home is the original ranchero. One of the books had pictures of the site, taken in the 1840s. It's our house! But there's more.

The land was originally given to a rancher named Francisco Valdez. He built our house with his own hands. Sadly, his line ended when his grandson Diego broke his neck in a fall from a horse. Diego's wife, Consuela, went mad with grief and committed suicide in a particularly horrible way. The next night she took her daughter in her arms and leaped over the edge of the-well, right where our deck is now! The next day the ranch hands found both their bodies at the bottom of the ravine. Her daughter was only four-just like Cassie.

But that's not the worst of it. I was staring a photograph of Consuela, Diego, and their daughter when I heard a gasp in my ear. I looked around and there was Cassie standing beside me. "That's her, mommy," she said. "That's the Strange Lady- the one I have tea with." She sounded so happy. "Now you believe me, don't you mommy?"

Oh, Daniel, I'm so frightened. Please, please write.

From: Daniel Elliot
To: Caitlin Elliot
Date: May 9
Subject: I'm swamped

Dear Caitlin.

Just dropping you a line to let you know that things are going crazy out here. I'm probably going to have to spend another week in Atlanta. But if I can pull this off, I've got a good shot at a vice presidency. I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to read your emails. I'm going to be working til after midnight here and I have another 6 am meeting. 6 am, can you believe it? I'll try to call tomorrow, if I can. Love you, honey.

Daniel

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 9,
Subject: Good-by

I don't know if you're ever going to call. If you don't, you're in for a surprise when you get home. The house will be empty. Cassie and I are leaving tonight.

You see, after I gave Dolores her new dress, I called Mr. Ehrlich. You remember he left us his new phone number for us with the escrow papers. When he picked up the phone and heard it was me, he sounded concerned. I started to tell him about Cassie and her "friend" and he broke down right there on the phone. He started sobbing. All he could say was, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

It took me quite a while, but I finally got the story out of him. He sold the house in the first place because his daughter died last year and he couldn't bear to live there any longer. Her name was Miranda. She fell off the back deck and broke her neck-just like Consuela's daughter. And right before it happened, Miranda had been talking about having an imaginary friend.

I'm taking Cassie to a motel in town until we can sell this place.

From: Caitlin Elliot
To: Daniel Elliot
Date: May 9
Subject: It's over

Yes, Daniel, the ghost has won. Why do I even bother to write to you? It's obvious you don't care. No, I'll send one last email. I want you to understand why I'm doing what I am.

Once I'd decided to leave, I couldn't find Cassie. I searched the whole house. She was gone. I was panic-stricken. I kept thinking, what if I was too late, and Consuela had already gotten to her? I raced out onto the deck and looked down into the ravine. Thank God, I saw nothing there. After that, Dolores and I went all over the property. We finally found Cassie hiding in the back of one of the upper stalls-an empty one.

When she saw we'd found her, she stood up. I said, "Come here, Cassie."

She said, "I won't go."

"You're coming with me."

She shook her head. "My friend said you'd try to take me away. But she needs me. I can't leave her."

I was pretty upset. I'm afraid I screamed at her. "Cassie, you get over here this instant!"

She sighed and shuffled towards us. As I reached out for her, she spun away and took off running. I was caught flat-footed. She streaked right past me. But Dolores was quicker than I. She caught Cassie by a sleeve of her t-shirt and practically yanked her off her feet. Cassie screamed and flailed, but Dolores held her at arm's length, so she couldn't be kicked.

"Listen Misses," she said to me as Cassie twisted and turned. "You'll never get her into the car like this." I looked at Cassie struggling and I was afraid she was right. Dolores went on, "You lock the door to that deck and give me the key. That way she can't get out there. Then you go into town and pay for a room at a motel. I'll hold her here. By the time you get back, she'll have wore herself out, and together we'll be able to get her in the car."

I hated to leave Cassie, but Dolores was right-as wild as she was I didn't think even I could do anything with her. Without thinking, I did as she suggested and gave her the key. She stuck it into a hip pocket of her jeans. "Don't you worry now," she told me. "Cassie can't get out there, no matter who tells her to."

She nodded at me. "You go ahead. We'll be fine. I've lived here for years. I'm not afraid of-of anything in this house."

I grabbed my car keys off the kitchen table and ran down the hill to the car. I was halfway there before I realized it-I should have taken the patio key myself. I spun around. By now the sun was going down. I could barely see my way back up the drive to the front door. You remember how the drive curves around the house. As I got halfway back, I heard voices above me. I recognized Dolores. She was grunting "I hate you all-spoiled brats. Your little amiga Consuela, she knew how to treat mocosos malcriados."

I scrambled along to the part that runs alongside the ravine. Right under the rear deck, I heard scraping noises above me. I leaned back and peered upward. From that angle I could just see the end of balcony and the railing.

I saw a large, dark undulating shape. As I kept looking, I made out some details. Dolores was holding Cassie in her arms. She was trying to heave Cassie over the railing. Cassie was kicking and struggling for all she was worth to keep from going over. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Dolores, panting from the effort, gasped, "Yes yes, now who's importante, ah?" Then the two of them lurched backwards out of sight. I took off for the front door.

I heard a high scream, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something fall. It had to have come over the railing above. I stopped right there. For a moment I couldn't move, I was so frightened. Far down in the ravine I heard a faint thump along with something like the sound of dry twigs snapping.

I realized I'd been holding my breath. I sucked in air and flew to the front door, tears streaming down my cheeks. I yanked it open. Once inside, I saw the doorway to the deck swinging wide. I raced outside, terrified of what I'd see.

What I saw was a dark irregular mass in the far corner. I raced over to it. Thank God, it was Cassie, huddled into a sobbing, little ball against one of the railings. I gathered her into my arms and rocked with her.

"The strange lady saved me. She pushed Dolores," she managed to get out through her tears. "She couldn't save the other girl, Miranda. Dolores got to her first."

She looked up and shook her little finger at me. "I told you Dolores hated me."

I was sobbing as hard as she was. "Yes you did, honey. I'll pay attention the next time you tell me something. I promise."

That seemed to satisfy her. "Okay, then." Her sobs subsided into heavy sighs. "Dolores hated children. Said we had everything our own way and she had nothing. She told me when she heard the story about my friend, she had to work here. To get even with all the bad children."

"Dolores was sick, honey," I told her. "Sick in the head."

Cassie looked up at me. Tears had left shiny trails all down her soft cheeks. "My friend is gone now, mommy. Gone for good. She was so sorry about her daughter. That's why she had to stay here-to remember every day what she'd done. But now that she's saved me, she can move on and be with her daughter again."

Meaningless words tumbled out of my mouth. "That's good, honey."

"But I miss her."

"You'll see her again some day."

She looked up accusingly. "But not for a long time."

"No honey, not for a long, long time."

It's been an hour since I typed the message above. We're now all packed and ready to go. Mr. Ehrlich has agreed to come by every day and feed the horses. By the way, Daniel, whenever you arrive in town, I suggest you don't stay at the ranch-just in case. If Dolores comes back-the way Consuela did-I don't think she's going to be in a very good mood. I do hope you can make time to read this before you get home.

© 2009 by H. R. Knight