Free Night Things: A Novel of Supernatural Terror by Michael Talbot Page A

back downstairs!” she snapped. “I just decided it was the easiest thing to do.”
    “But that’s just it. Each time you go through, something happens that makes you realize it’s the easiest thing to do. She did it on purpose, Mom, I can tell.”
    She exhaled loudly. “Okay, Garrett, suppose she did do that. Why would she do such a thing?” This question caused him to lapse into such silence she became a little uneasy. She knew him well enough to know he didn’t take challenges lightly.
    For the next several minutes she tried to put everything out of her mind and concentrate on enjoying the scenery. As they traveled, she realized how truly isolated they were at Lake House. Several roads turned off the highway, but none gave any indication of leading to other houses. There weren’t even any other cars on the road. She was just about to comment on it when finally they passed a small dirt road with a crudely painted “Keep Out” sign posted beside it.
    It was another twenty minutes before they saw any further evidence of civilization in the form of another sign that read: “Clearwater Lodge—Next Right.” Pulling into the driveway, Lauren was pleasantly surprised to see that Clearwater Lodge was quite a big place. Like Lake House it sat on the edge of a sparkling lake, but here any similarity ended. Instead of gothic, the lodge was built in the traditional Adirondack lodge style, sprawling in every direction. It was also crawling with people: backpackers heading up mountain trails, boaters, children in life preservers splashing in the shallows of the lake, and picnickers sitting at tables under the spreading canopy of the trees. The sight of so many people made Lauren feel good.
    She parked the Porsche in a concrete parking lot outside the main pavilion, and they both got out. Inside, the lodge looked very much like a big-city hotel. The entrance hall had been converted into a huge lobby, and bellboys assisted new arrivals with their bags. Beyond an arch to the right she saw a display of stuffed toy animals, and she knew she had found the right place.
    “Come on, Garrett,” she said, gently steering him by his shoulder through the crowd.
    Walking in, she saw that the store was filled with all the sundry items one expected in such establishments: souvenirs, toiletries, travel books, candy bars, camping supplies.
    Seeing a display of comic books, Garrett raced off to the opposite side of the store as Lauren went up to a plump, rather cow-eyed girl standing behind a nearby counter. On her blouse she wore a button that said, “Hi, my name is Amy and I’m here to help you.”
    “Excuse me, do you sell Deep Woods Off?” Lauren asked.
    With almost mechanical efficiency the girl reached up to a shelf behind her and withdrew a green aerosol can. “Sure do,” she said, sliding the can across the counter to Lauren.
    “How much is that?” Lauren asked.
    “Two ninety-five.”
    Lauren reached into her purse for her wallet.
    “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” the girl said. “You can just give me your room number and I’ll put it on your bill.”
    “No, you don’t understand,” Lauren said. “I’m not a guest here.”
    “Are you campers?”
    “No, we’ve rented a house here for the summer, a lodge really. It’s called Lake House.”
    The girl’s already sizable eyes opened even wider as she snapped out of her professional demeanor. “Lake House! You’re kidding. What is that old place like on the inside, anyway?”
    “Oh, it’s quite nice really.”
    Taking Lauren’s matter-of-fact response as an invitation to become even more familiar, the girl leaned forward amiably on the counter. “Is it really as strange inside as they say?” Both her question and her chatty air made Lauren a little uncomfortable. “It’s a little strange around the edges,” she said, repeating the same line Stephen had used. “But most of it is quite livable.”
    “Gosh,” the girl said.
    For some reason her