Inside the Wagner House

Chapter 1

The next day was already looking better off. Gilda was outside early, sitting on the front porch and feeding some leftover bread to the birds. Albert wouldn't be surprised if she knew them all by name, the way she chatted with them, as though they were people. She took an interest in all things; bids, kids, animals of all sorts. She showed no hint of sadness, no indication of what happened behind the windows that last stormy night. And neither did the land; indeed, the only thing wet today was the morning dew on the grass. It was a scene out of a storybook.

"Morning, Mrs. Wagner." A tall man clad in a dull overcoat waved to her as he walked briskly by.

"Good morning, Drake! Why the heavy coat? It's gorgeous out."

"I was just being prepared, Mrs. Wagner. That storm was unnaturally bad. It was something out of Hell itself, I'll tell you that." Gilda nodded, but giggled under her breath.

"Everything with you is something from Hell, Mr. Adams. I thought you Americans were supposed to be more lighthearted." Drake huffed.

"Not me, I suppose. Good-bye, Mrs. Wagner." As quick as he had come, the man was gone over the bridge to the church. Gilda looked back at the crowd of birds pecking for crumbs around her feet.

"That man has no sense of humor. I know he's a priest, but I've met children with better comedy taste than him." One, a raven, poked its head up at her. Gilda checked her pockets.

"Oh! Looks like I'm out of food. Sorry, little guy, that's all for today." She got up from her bench and walked around to the back of the house. The raven hopped alongside her.

"Shoo. Really, that's it." With an indigent caw it flapped its wings and flew into the forest. Gilda noticed her husband fishing in the nearby river.

"You're up early, Albert. Hoping to snag something now?"

"Naw, just testing the new rod out." He looked over his shoulder at his wife.

"Listen, hon, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have stressed you out like that." Gilda waved her hand.

"It's not a big deal. Give it some time, and we can all just forget it ever happened." Her positive demeanor was betrayed by a much-too-wide smile.

"Listen, after I finish hanging up the clothes we can find something to do together to take our minds off of it. Alright?" Albert shrugged.

"Sounds good."

"Great, I'll get started." The clothes line was a bit farther off from the river, but still in the backyard, close enough for them to see each other. Albert let the rod sit for a while. It was a lazy Saturday, and he preferred the tranquility of the countryside at the moment. The hustle and bustle of his job so easily got to him, the little rural community was a welcome change. There was more time to relax and observe nature, something so rarely sought after during his youth in the city.

But I'll be damned if it doesn't get dull soon. Albert thought to himself. I don't know what Gilda was going on about when she wanted a little place like this. Still, it's quiet enough…huh? Something was giving his rod a nasty tug.

"I didn't think fish in this river had this much weight to them! Honey, come over and see this!"

"Just a moment, dear, I just started." Albert pulled the rod upwards, but just then the weight disappeared, leaving the worm on the hook.

"What in the…?" He crouched down, scanning the river for his culprit, when he saw it. Some sort of swaddle was bobbing along on the waves, with a blue three-pronged thing sticking out of it. Other than that it was completely coated in wet cloth from head to toe. Curious, confused, he gave it a poke with the rod. The thing twitched, and he could hear a giggly voice from inside.

"All right, I'm here, now what was it you wanted to…oh my God…" Gilda practically shoved Albert to the ground once she saw the bundle. Stopping at the riverbed, she seemed about to pick it up, but her arms dropped involuntarily. She stood there for a long while, staring down at the thing as its journey downstream was halted by a couple rocks standing in the way. Finally, she lifted her shaking arms up again and scooped the drenched sack out of the river, so slowly that the child took no notice.

It wasn't hard to tell it was a baby of some sort; even with its face covered, the squealy noises gave it away. The three pronged toy navigated the woman's face, grabbing it like a clamp or a hand. Gilda wasn't looking down at it, however. She held the baby close to her chest and looked around, as though expecting someone to rip it from her. She had an uneasy expression on her face.

"Albert, don't just stand there! Set up a warm bath, the poor thing must be freezing!" Her husband nodded and practically snapped out of a trance, with the speed he was running inside, leaving the rod behind him. Gilda followed close behind and slammed the back door shut. Water from the child's rags dripped onto the wooden floor and seeped through the cracks, creating a small puddle where she was standing.

She wasn't sure what to do. For a moment she considered getting the baby out of the soaking rags, but decided it would be colder out in the open. Then she thought about calling the police department, but she couldn't do that either; whoever would leave their newborn child in such a reckless situation probably didn't deserve one. It was like a miracle, or something out of a dream. Here was the opportunity to start what she and her husband had so longed for…no.

After she got the baby in good health again, they would have to bring it back. The officers would find an orphanage to place him in, and Gilda refused to be called out as a kidnapper. Still, the idea of letting go of what she had most desired for so many years, and had just come to them so suddenly, made her heart sink. A little overwhelmed, she took a seat on the livingroom chair, dampening its cushy lining. The bundle sneezed once and shook, wracked with cold, only prompting Gilda to hold it tighter. A few minutes passed in this state; Gilda and the child waiting patiently, when,

"Alright, honey, I've got the tub ready! Bring 'im in and I'll get to a phone." Sighing, Gilda pushed herself out of the armchair, still clutching the baby tightly with her left hand. Albert squeezed past her while walking down the narrow hallway. She set the bundle down at the edge of the tub and proceeded to peel away the many wet-laden layers of rags.

"My, I'm surprised you didn't drown under all this stuff! OK little guy, time to get…what's this?" A blue piece of fuzz stuck out from under the last rag. Assuming it was another blanket, she tried to tug it loose, but the baby squealed angrily in response and jerked along with it. This loosened the rag that was covering it, and a slender blue tube poked through the layer, tipped with a sharp end. A moment of panic stuck in Gilda's throat. The tube was clad in more fur, much like a cat's tail…or a demon's, with the arrow end. Telling herself it was a stupid concern, she forced her bad feelings down and pulled the last blanket off of the child.

And what she saw made her want to cover it up again, if the creature hadn't immediately dived into the bathwater, springing off of the edge from three-fingered hands and two-fingered feet.