Free The Loveliest Dead by Ray Garton

did not look up from his pancakes as he ate.
    After breakfast, David decided to change the lightbulbs over the basement stairway. As he picked up the long black Mag-Lite beside the back door and went into the laundry room, Miles joined him and asked, “Can I go down there with you, Dad?”  
    “No, not now. Not until we’ve got plenty of light down there, and even then, I don’t want you going down these steps unless it’s with me or your mom, understood?”  
    “‘Kay. Can I watch?”
    “Sure. Hold the lightbulbs for me.” He handed Miles a box of two bulbs.
    Miles stood in the basement doorway as David went down the stairs. He went down into the basement to find something he could stand on to reach the bulbs. It was damp and smelled of mildew and moist earth. He was surprised how cold it was. It wasn’t a large basement, and it was crammed full of junk.  
    “Another cleanup job,” David muttered as he passed the flashlight beam around, searching.
    Against a wall, he found a narrow wooden crate that looked like it was just the right height and size. He tried to lift the lid to see what was inside, but it was nailed shut. It was not very heavy, though, and it was sturdy enough. He picked it up and carried it two-thirds of the way up the stairs, bent down, and placed it on one of the steps. It fit perfectly. Standing a step above the crate, he tested it with one foot, then gripped the railing with one hand and stepped up on it. On the crate, he was able to reach the first bulb. He replaced the burnt-out bulbs in minutes. When he was done, he climbed back up the stairs and flipped the light switch.  
    The lights came on for an instant, then sent two small explosions of sparks into the air with a pop and went out again.
    “Son of a bitch!” David said. He looked down at Miles. “You didn’t hear me say that. It’s not nice to talk that way, you know.”
    Miles laughed. “I know.”
    David sighed. “I wonder if it’s a problem with the wiring.” He went down the stairs with the flashlight in hand, stepped over the crate, then picked it up and carried it back down to the basement. He noticed again the drastic difference in temperature from the top of the stairs to the bottom. He tossed the crate down where he’d found it. It slammed against a stack of boxes and knocked them over.  
    “Damn,” David muttered.
    He started to turn and go back up when he heard music playing. He frowned. It was a slow, plinking, off-key rendition of Brahms’s “Lullaby.” He found the source of the music with the flashlight. A filthy old brown teddy bear with a dark ribbon around its neck lay on the floor near the fallen boxes. Stuffing dangled from a couple holes in the bear’s torso and only one round black button-eye remained on its face. As the tune slowed down, footsteps clattered rapidly down the stairs.  
    “David! That’s it! Do you hear it?”
    He looked up at Jenna, who stopped near the bottom of the stairs. “Be careful,” he said. “It’s just a toy.”
    She came off the stairs and hurried to his side, looking down at the bear. As she swept it up off the floor and held it in both hands, the music wore down and stopped. She turned it over to find a key sticking out of the back. Jenna turned the key a couple times and the music continued. She turned the bear face up again.  
    “My God, David, this is the bear he was holding,” Jenna whispered. “Except... it looked like new. It was clean and had both eyes, the ribbon was a bright blue, and the stuffing wasn’t—”  
    David looked up at Miles in the doorway and said, “Go check on Grandma, Tiger, see how she’s doing, okay?”
    Miles sighed, knowing full well he was being gotten rid of again. He said, “Okay,” and left.
    “Jenna, it’s just an old teddy bear that fell out of one of these boxes.”
    “Yes!” She looked up at him with round eyes, a few strands of her long blond hair dangling over her face. “That’s why he was down here,