1 The Bank of the River Read Free

down the stairwell that led up to the kitchen, from a
light he always left on when away.
    Steven felt
his heart rate pick up. Someone is, or was, in the house, he thought. Somehow they shut down the alarm system. I’ve probably been robbed...or am being robbed. He contemplated quietly searching the house, but felt unarmed –
what would he do if he ran into someone? Considering his options, he decided to
announce himself. He walked back over to the basement door, opened it, and
slammed it shut loud enough to wake the neighbors.
    In response,
there were footsteps above him, moving rapidly. Fuck, they’re upstairs right
now , he thought. Steven reached for his cell phone and dialed 911.
    -
    “Nothing,”
said the second cop, returning from downstairs to the kitchen where Steven and
the first cop stood. The first cop was filling out some paperwork. He spoke
while he wrote.
    “No forced
entry. Are you sure you set the alarm? Sometimes people forget, more often than
you realize.”
    “I’m almost
positive I set it,” Steven replied.
    “You could
have the alarm company run a test, see if everything is working properly,” the
cop replied.
    “But the
footsteps? I heard someone up here,” Steven said.
    “If there
was someone here they’re gone now,” said the second cop.
    “If?” Steven
asked.
    “Look,” the
first cop said, “you did the right thing calling us. I’m sure you heard
something. You told us you slammed the door downstairs. They probably left through
the front door as soon as you alerted them to your presence.”
    “I found the
front door bolted,” said Steven. “They didn’t go out that way.”
    “We’ve
checked the entire house and yard. I assure you there’s no one here. My advice
is to get your alarm fixed right away, and if anything else happens, call 911
again.”
    “Thanks,”
Steven said, resigned. He could tell this was routine for them, and they
weren’t going to make a case out of something they didn’t need to, something
they felt was most likely his mistake.
    Steven made
his own rounds through the house, double checking the bolts on the basement
door, the kitchen door, and the front door. He checked all of the window locks,
ensuring they held. He checked every closet. He even poked his head up into the
attic and shined a flashlight into every corner until he was sure he was alone.
    It’s
difficult to sleep in a house you believe has just been robbed or invaded.
Steven knew he had heard footsteps overhead when he slammed the basement door. Could
the footsteps have been some kind of echo? If someone had been upstairs, where
did they go? If this ended with the same explanation as the knocking – no explanation
– it was going to drive him crazy.
      It’s
likely I’m not thinking straight about this , he thought. Better sleep
and see how things look in the morning. Daylight will bring a fresh
perspective.
    Steven
climbed into bed but sleep was not forthcoming. There were too many ideas
floating around in his head, and too much adrenaline in his system. Every idea
he proposed for the sound of the footsteps didn’t stick – nothing seemed like a
reasonable answer. He felt as if he were going around and around, trying out
the same ideas over and over, but not finding an answer each time.
    He continued
running scenarios through his mind for a long time before he drifted off.
    -
    Steven awoke
to the sound of knocking. He strained his ears, threw his legs out of the bed,
and stumbled into the hallway, listening. He was trying to discern the
direction of the follow-up knocks which were sure to come. They always did.
    Then four more
knocks, just like before. From downstairs. But then, unlike previous nights,
more sounds. A shuffling, like someone walking.
    He struggled
with his balance as his body attempted to wake up. He walked to the top of the
stairs, and looked down into the basement.  The light at the foot of the stairs
was dim, coming from the moonlight in an adjacent basement