Behind the door, I heard endless tapping.
Sera was at the grocery store, getting things for me. She claimed she wanted me to be as comfortable as possible. I didn't see what more she could do.
Today was my first day here. Serafina, my daughter, had moved me from my own house to live with her. She thought that I was too old to live alone, too prone to injury and accidents. I didn't see why she made me live with her, though.
Sera never married. She stayed in the old home she had bought when she was twenty-five, a three-bedroom cottage in Northern Pennsylvania. She was in a prime location, barely an hour from Philadelphia, and close to my side of the family. I have to agree with her when she says that it's calmer up here, less drama. Her decorating style had always differed from that of her
mother and I, but that never stopped her.
Before she left, Sera had set me up on a chair in her living room with taco soup. Her mother used to make it and had given her the recipe before she moved out. My heart ached at the thought.
My bowl was on the small table next to the chair, abandoned. I didn't even want to smell the familiar food.
The tapping was getting annoying. I assumed it was just some water dripping or the laundry going in the basement. To drown it out, I grabbed the remote, turning the TV on. The screen flickered for a second before settling on the opening credits to a show called NCIS. The flashing video clips were going by to quickly for my old eyes to follow. When it finally settled down and the techno background music stopped playing, a large office room with orange painted walls and older computers was shown. The camera panned to an elevator which opened, revealing a tall, dark haired man in a suit and a darker skinned woman who looked to be of Middle Eastern descent. They both had identical black backpacks slung over their shoulders.
The TV did nothing to drown out the tapping noise; if anything, it got louder. Just as the gray haired man with the odd haircut on the screen ordered the man, woman and another man to 'gear up', I turned the TV off, watching the screen dim to black.
It didn't seem right to call and ask Sera what the tapping noise was when I could simply go down and check myself. I took a deep breath, grabbing my cane, keeping a tight grip on it as I pushed myself off of the chair and into a rather Hunchback-of-Notre-Dame looking stand. The old floorboards creaked under my weight and gave me a rather uneasy feeling as to what lay beneath them.
When I attempted to move my cane, I forgot to shift onto my good leg before the piece of wood flew out from under me. I fell backwards into the chair, swinging my arms to find purchase in something. My elbow hit the bowl of soup, tipping it over and spilling its contents on the carpet.
I muttered a few color words I probably shouldn't repeat and tried to stand again, this time succeeding in moving without breaking or spilling anything. I made my way over to the basement door, dreading the steep stairs I knew were common in these old homes.
I was correct in assuming the stairs would be steep. They would have looked treacherous to a person in their prime, much less about fifty years after it. The railing only went about halfway down before ending in a splintering mess of wood and coats of paint laid over to try to smooth out the surface.
I braced myself on the railing, mindful of the splintering wood, and took the stairs step by step, creak by unsettling creak. The basement was hardly lit, the visibility barely enough to see five feet in front of you. I let go of the railing fearfully, nearly tripping down the last few steps before hitting the concrete floor.
In the corner of my eye, visible only by the sake of a small window in a far wall, a white light switch glimmered into view. I hobbled over to it, flicking it up quickly and blinking as the simple light bulbs around the cement room stuttered on.
I could now see that Sera had her mother's knack for putting things 'away'. On top of the totes, which were labeled with things like 'Christmas Decor' and 'Knick Knacks', sat items that matched the description of the boxes but never quite made it into them.
A freezer was tucked away in the corner, extra suitcases surrounding it in a Tetris like manner. There were other flea market items around the basement, a few wooden chairs with chipped paint here, a cedar chest there. I ran my hand over the top of a nearby box, pulling it away to find my hand coated in dust.
The tapping became fainter and less frequent. The basement was an odd shape, meaning that I couldn't see the entire area from where I was standing. I took a few steps forward, finally gaining view of the other side of the basement.
It was empty except for a dog, a German Shepherd, lying down on a dog bed. It was too big for the bed, it's feet hanging out and occasionally swiping out into the air. When it did this, it's claws would scratch the floor, making a tapping sound.
I shook my head, going to turn back to the stairs when the dog stood up, as if mechanically, it's back straight and its tail down, not whipping around like a happy dog's would. It took a few steps towards me, it's head steady and unmoving.
I didn't move a muscle or say anything. Sera didn't tell me that she had a dog, or that its insistent tapping would give me the hassle of coming down here and waking it up.
"Down, dog," I said, holding out my free hand in an attempt to show it that I meant it no harm. It kept slowly walking towards me. "Sit," I commanded. It didn't stop, it's pace unfaltering.
I began to back up, towards the stairs, the dog's, who I could now see was a boy, eyes never leaving mine. I thought that I would hit the stairs with the back of my feet, but my back hit the splintered railing first.
As soon as I stopped, the dog leapt on to me, knocking me off balance and pushing me against the wood. I could feel it tearing through my shirt, scratching and breaking skin. I let go of my cane, swinging my arms for something to grab onto. The dog face was right in front of mine, her teeth bared and mouth foaming.
I felt myself begin to fall down onto the stairs, everything seemingly going in slow motion as the dog opened her mouth and her face got closer and closer until-
"Dad!"
I startled awake. I was sat in the passenger seat of Sera's car, parked in a Walmart parking lot. I looked to the back seat, which was now piled high with green reusable bags.
"Are you alright?" Sera asked, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"What happened?" I asked, dismissing her question. She narrowed her eyes.
"I picked you up from the airport, then we came here to get you some things," she said. "I would have brought you inside with me but you had fallen asleep, so I let you rest and got in and out of Walmart. When I came back, you weren't responding, but you were muttering things."
I sighed, looked down at my hands in my lap. "How quickly can we get to your house?" Sera's glance flickered to the clock on her stereo.
"About ten minutes, why?"
"There's something I need to check out."
We drove in silence. I knew Sera was even more worried about me now. It didn't matter. I had to get to her house.
When we got there, I quickly pushed the door open and stumbled out of the car, hobbling down the pathway and through the house, down the stairs to the basement and around the corner.
Nothing.
The basement was now all but bare. The small amount of items in the concrete room were carefully organized. The totes were labeled with specific detail and everything seemed to be in it's place. The corner was void of any dogs or dog beds. In fact, it was completely empty.
"Dad!" Sera's voice rang through the house. "Where are you?"
"I'm down here, sweetheart," I called back. I felt defeated. Was it all just a dream?
"I want you to meet someone!"
I furrowed my brows. Who else was here? I gave the barren corner one last look before ascending the stairs, disappointment evident in the pace of my step.
"Who did you want me to meet?" I asked before turning the corner into the kitchen, where Sera was standing, the same German Shepherd from my dream, no, nightmare, sitting next to her.
"Dad, this is my dog, Zoey," she said, resting her hand on the dogs head.
