Chapter Text
“You can change the station if you want to, girlie,” Bonnie said and flicked the ashes off her cigarette lazily out the window as she drove along the winding coastline. “I’m no fan of ABBA.”
Cissie was only half paying attention to the music as she stared out her window, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. “It’s fine,” she said and continued to stare at the landscape as it went by her. Rhode Island was in full Autumn blush; reds, oranges and bright gold cascaded like clouds on Cissie’s side of the car, and on Bonnie’s side stretched a blue October ocean under white cliffs.
Bonnie reached for the radio and changed it anyway and kept turning the dial until she found a station that was not broadcasting a commercial. “There, Ozzy. You know, you used to dance to his music before you could even run.”
“To Ozzy Osbourne?” Cissie asked with a small disbelieving laugh.
Bonnie chuckled. “You’d put your little hands on the side of the coffee table and pull yourself up and you would bop up and down like you were in a mosh pit! Didn’t matter what song of his it was. If it came on the radio you would be right there dancing,” she sighed fondly then and put out her cigarette on the side of her door then flicked it into oblivion. “Bernie would laugh so hard! He got a video of you doing it once! It’s on a tape in a box those neanderthals are moving for us!”
“Those ‘neanderthals’ are saving your back,” Cissie reminded her and Bonnie kept talking.
“We were so sure you were going to come out as a little punk. Bernie was already preparing to give you ‘the talk’ about punk boys.”
“Mom, I think you made up for everything dad was going to say because you covered more than just punks.”
Bonnie drummed her red-painted pale fingertips on the wheel as the weight of what her daughter said hit her. “It’s not the same world I grew up in,” she sighed. “There’s a lot more craziness in the world. Supervillains used to be isolated to one or two wackos per hero, now it's quadruple that. Now it's cool to be Doomsday on the playground. It's normal business to capitalize on someone's death - make damn video games about it and rent his snuff film at Blockbuster for a buck ninety-nine. The depravity of the world is sickening Cis, I just wanted to give you the tools to protect you from it.”
Cissie had a different recollection of her mother’s motives and she bit her tongue from reminding Bonnie that the second she got her father’s insurance money she enrolled her in a revolving door of schools and lessons ranging from ballet to karate and twelve other martial arts during a time when all she wanted to do was grieve. She could do a pirouette while balancing a stack of books on her head and end it with a kick strong enough to shatter collarbones all while reciting Shakespeare and Ovid. It was a time of both isolation and suffocating control where she had no sense of self or autonomy other than what name she wanted her mother to use when she criticized her ‘performances’.
She bit the words back and instead she choked out an awkward cough when she saw a decrepit wooden sign with peeling green paint peering around unkempt juniper bushes. Even though they were faded, the letters were clear in their white cursive script.
H A Y E S M A N O R
“That’s the house right mom?” Cissie asked and Bonnie slowed down as she turned a sharp corner. The house was finally visible then, dark and lonely, nestled on several acres of ill-kept land. If Cissie wasn’t actively looking for the house, she might have missed it in the swaths of colorful trees and green ivy crawling over it.
Cissie frowned.
She expected old, she expected secluded, but she did not expect decrepit and totally isolated from humanity. “That’s the house?” she said, doubt dripping between each word.
“I told you it needed a little landscaping done girlie. Trust me, she’s beautiful on the inside.” Bonnie pulled up next to two moving vans that had been waiting for her. “Good, they got started already!”
Cissie still couldn’t help but stare at the wall of ivy that made the house look like a dungeon from one of Bart’s video games. Each window was like black ice cast against the green, but in one she could have sworn she saw movement. Brushing it off as seeing one of the curtains, Cissie got out of the car.
Cissie was used to New England architecture from her studies in Pennsylvania at St. Elias; on the outside of the mansion it screamed to her typical 1800s Victorian complete with four turret pillars bordering each corner of the mansion. On the inside it was no different. Typical 1800s Victorian dark brown wooden architecture met her in the form of bombastic stairs that sprawled around a massive grand entryway.
“Dark academia thy name is Hayes Manor,” Cissie sighed as she walked across a very old and very stained red carpet patterned with vague shapes that might have been leaves. “Mom? How much did you pay for this place?”
Bonnie had immediately flung herself into directing the moving men, a lit cigarette hanging between her fingers as ash fell on the dirty carpet. “Yes, anything labeled Cissie goes up to her room!”
“Which one is her room, ma’am?” asked one of the men.
“Oh, shit. Cissie!” Bonnie spun and found her tall daughter staring at her, eyes big and blue. “You need to choose a room.”
Cissie was filled with dread at what the rooms might look like if they were anything like the carpet, but she adjusted her backpack on her shoulder before heading up the stairs to find her room. As she walked up the staircase she ran her hand up the polished wooden rail and was at least relieved it was not covered in dust.
She didn’t explore for very long because she quickly found that while her mother had mentioned it had not been lived in in decades, it had been at least maintained. Or given one hastily done makeover.
Cissie expected to walk into a scene that resembled The Beast’s castle in Beauty and the Beast with cobwebs, dirt, and old broken furniture scattered everywhere like carcasses. Instead, she found she was in a romantic Victorian novel of polish and primp, except for the carpet. The little child in her heart couldn’t help but feel a little excited at that as she imagined herself in another place and time running up and down those stairs in a big white poofy dress with a bright red bow and shiny black shoes.
In her fantasy imagination, her lanky father was chasing her while her mom took photographs and hung them all over the walls, they were a happy family and they lived happily ever after.
The fantasy ended and she was left standing in a gray painted room with hardwood floors, wood accents adorning each wall. The room was totally barren except for sheer white curtains draped in front of a huge window that overlooked the ocean. As Cissie peered outside she could see the long coastline and a lighthouse in the far distance. She wondered if the light would spin at night, and what color it might be.
Something about the room felt right to her, but then she got a sudden deep chill and she rubbed her arms, goosebumps prickling all over her fair skin. Cissie considered continuing her search if the room was going to be that drafty, but then she noticed that the room had its own private bathroom complete with one of the biggest bathtubs she had ever seen. Big enough that she could stretch out, which was something she had not been able to do in at least two years. That sold it for her, and she smiled and almost ran to tell the movers where her room was.
She could actually get used to living like this.
The rest of the day Cissie could not get in two words with her mother as she directed the movers where everything went. Not waiting for movers to set up her room, she decided to take up the task herself while Bonnie distracted herself playing conductor.
Sure, the moving men might have been able to assemble her bed quicker than she did, but there was something cathartic about building her bedframe herself and sliding her mattress on it. From there it was just deciding where to place her bookshelves and dresser, then the tedious task of unpacking.
For the last ten years whenever Cissie unpacked the task was just like brushing teeth - she knew she was just going to have to do it again within the year. So she never fretted much on where she was going to put things because it wouldn’t matter. But now, for the first time since she was just a little girl, she felt like she was going to stay for a while.
Whether this was going to be a prison sentence or a true ‘new start’ like Bonnie promised her, Cissie couldn’t tell yet. Digging into a box labeled ‘fragile’ Cissie pulled out a photo of her father, her mother and herself from over ten years ago. They all looked happy then and she smiled seeing her father’s lean frame as he knelt for the photo next to Cissie. His legs were so long and his knees so bony he looked like he could have been only a skeleton under his clothes.
“Well dad, you always wanted us to be in a huge house with a railing you could slide down like in those old movies. You would have loved this place,” she snorted a little laugh. “Seriously, this place feels like Mary Poppins is going to come out of one of the rooms.” Cissie sighed forlornly then, and then bitterly added, “Maybe we need Mary Poppins to fix us.”
Cissie looked around her furnished room and decided to place the photo on the desk she’d moved next to the huge window.
“Cissie! Where are you! Fuck! I can’t believe I’m bitching about this house having too many rooms. Cissie!”
Cissie peeked her head out of her room. “I’m here mom!” Bonnie spun around and stalked over to her. It was just the way she walked, but she always strode like she was angry even if she was perfectly content.
“I tried ordering pizza for us and the boys and there’s nowhere that delivers up here!” she fumed with a cordless phone in her hand. “We’re only a mile and a half away from town, it’s ridiculous!”
“Ugh! Mom, that's literally the worst news I have ever heard in my life!”
“It’s not going to stay that way, Cis. Mommy’s gonna have that fixed by the end of the month!” Bonne said confidently and Cissie had a deep feeling she was right. “But for now, we’re going into town to pick some up.”
“Oh, you can go without me. I want to finish my room before dark.”
Bonnie gave her a long look. “I’m not leaving you alone with strange men, get your shoes on.”
“Mom, I might not be Arrowette anymore, but you put me through twelve martial arts classes, and I already have my bow unpacked, I think I’m gonn-”
“You are one person, they are eight. N-O.,” Bonnie ordered and Cissie knew when to drop an argument. “Come on. Shoes and jacket. They have a Papa Ginos right on the edge of town.”
“Mom, how much did you pay for this house?” Cissie asked her mother again when she had her alone on the drive back to Hayes Manor.
Bonnie huffed a little. “Why? Do you think we’re running out of money girlie?”
Balancing eight hot pizza boxes on her lap the smell of cheese and meat was almost overpowering so Cissie rolled down the window as she answered. “It might have crossed my mind,” she admitted.
“We’re fine girlie,” Bonnie said quickly then pulled to a stop when a train crossing warning flashed. “Oh great! We’ll be hearing that train too no doubt!” Just as she got the words out of her mouth the train appeared and then blared its loud horn. “Ugh.”
Cissie was completely unbothered as she watched her mom practically writhe in her seat waiting for the train to pass. Finally she pressed again. “I was just curious about how much the house cost, that’s all.”
“I got it as a favor from an old friend,” Bonnie finally admitted. “I paid about a quarter of what it’s worth, about four hundred thousand.”
Cissie gasped. “Four hundred thousand dollars?! Mom, that’s-”
“A bargain! They even gave it a deep clean for free! Though the carpet could have had another go of it…”
“Okay, I’m not even going to approach how that’s almost half of what dad’s insurance money was, but who owed you that big of a favor?!” said Cissie and Bonnie tore into her purse for a cigarette but Cissie snatched it out of her hand. “Stop that, you’ve had nearly half a pack already today!”
“Oh, fine you win girlie!” Bonnie let her have the cigarette and she sighed watching the train. “Back when I was your age when I was Miss Arrowette, I saved a girl. She was visiting Star City and some would-be kidnapper tried to hold her for ransom. Things weren’t going as planned, the cops were bungling the negotiations, as they usually do, so I stepped in. Kicked their asses and got her out of that mess. Her name was Matilda Hayes.”
“Hayes,” Cissie repeated. “Like the manor.”
Nodding, Bonnie continued. “Turned out, she was my age, and a heiress to a large fishing-company-turned-off-shore-drilling. Her kidnapping was a whole fucking movie plot organized by her own brother to get her out of the way of her share of inheritance.”
“God,” Cissie sighed; she had heard a lot of Bonnie’s stories as Miss Arrowette but she had not heard about this one.
“You would think someone that was already getting a share to billions would be satisfied with those billions. Pathetic.” The train finally passed but Bonnie was slower to accelerate. “Matilda declared she owed me her life and a favor - we stayed in touch off and on throughout the years, and a few months ago I decided to cash in on that favor and she delivered.”
“So she offered you a whole damn mansion at a 75% discount? Are you sure there’s not something wrong with it? Is it haunted or something?”
Bonnie howled. “Haunted! Oh please. That’s all media sensational bullshit!”
Cissie blinked. “What?”
Bonnie glanced to Cissie and then pulled her eyes back onto the road. “Okay, so there might have been a few murders that happened back in the forties and-”
“MOM!”
“I promise you it’s not haunted.”
“Yeah, it’s totally haunted,” said one of the moving men. He had a distinct Boston accent and as he ate his pizza his mustache just barely touched the slice.
“Totally,” agreed another, he was short and squat and reminded Cissie of Uncle Fester from The Addams Family. “Say, my mom told me my aunt on my step-brother’s side had a cousin who’s half-sister knew one of the victims!”
Cissie didn’t even try to bother with the mental wack-a-mole to figure out who that was in relation to him. “My mom told me that there were a few murders that took place here?”
The two men laughed. “Kiddo! Not just a few murders. THE murders!” declared the man with the mustache. “You haven’t heard of the Hayes Manor Slaughter of 1948?”
Cissie shook her head wide eyed, a half eaten slice of pizza frozen in her hand.
Amused by Cissie's reaction the bald man enthusiastically continued. “It’s the most famous murder case in Happy Harbor! Really shoulda named the place Slaughter Harbor after that! But I guess you out-of-towners wouldn’t know about it!”
Cissie finally took a bite of her pizza. “This is the first I have even heard of it.”
The man with the mustache took pity on her. “Okay, so back in 1948 the patriarch of the house went nutso and killed his wife and two kids. The end.”
“Aw Jimmy naw, that’s not how you tell it! You see kiddo, it was a dark and stormy night-”
“Ah Cissie, there you are,” Bonnie interrupted and then glared at the two men. “Gentlemen,” she seethed frostily and they got the hint, finished their pizza and quickly got back to work finishing their jobs. When they were gone she spun to her daughter. “What were they talking to you about?!”
Cissie rolled her blue eyes. “Oh come on mom, we were just talking about the house.”
Bonnie relaxed. “Sorry girlie, I just - I’m looking out for you. You’re a very attractive girl and men-”
“I know. Trust me, no one is going to hurt me here.”
“If even Superman can get beaten to death, then all the training and power in the world is still not guaranteed to keep you safe.”
“Gee mom, you’ve never been this cynical or paranoid. Are you sure you’re okay?” Cissie asked, genuinely worried for her mother. She had always been pushy, protective and cautious, but never paranoid.
Bonnie smiled. “Cis, I haven’t felt this good in a long, long time. Aw, I’m sorry if I’m over-protective, but I’m your mother.” Cissie hated the entitled tone she got when she said ‘mother’, it made her instantly uncomfortable. “It’s my job to be protective.”
“Mom, I’m seventeen, I’ve been in martial arts for over ten years, I was Arrowette for four years and you’re here. No one is going to stalk me, spy on me or touch me in this house unless it’s one of the ghosts! You can back off.”
Bonnie scoffed. “I’ll do that when I’m dead. And this place isn’t haunted!”
“The movers seem pretty convinced it is,” Cissie remarked, glad for the change in subject. “They said this house is famous for the Hayes Manor Slaughter? Do you know much about it?”
“Only what Matilda told me. Her uncle went batshit crazy one day and killed everyone. And before you ask - no that’s not the reason why she sold me this place at a K-Mart discount. It was just a favor and nothing else. There are no ghosts!”
Cissie rubbed her arms again when she felt a chill.
It was around 10:30 when Cissie finally was able to retreat to her room for the night. The house was still so big she got lost along the way twice and when she finally found her room again she fumbled for the light switch. Unable to find it on the wall she carefully treaded in the darkness to where she knew her bed was and located the nightstand and the lamp and turned it on. Soft yellow light filled the large room and Cissie flopped on the bed without even getting undressed.
It had been a mentally exhausting day and the worst part of it all was that this was one of the better days she had with her mother recently. Cissie didn’t even get into any real arguments with her and they didn’t resort to sniping at each other with spade shaped tongues.
But even with the day ending with no fights and even an awkward ‘I love you’ Cissie felt like she was 13 years old sobbing on a rooftop while Bonnie screamed her new name of the month (back then it was Cecelia) about how pitiful she performed. Cissie breathed deeply, that’s what her fourth karate instructor told her when she was so worked up that her body became as stiff as a tree. Breathe. Find three things she could hear; in that big mansion it was eerily quiet and the only thing she could hear was her own breathing. Find three things she could see; she looked and saw her black and white sneakers, then there were the sheer curtains strung above the huge window and then her father’s frame that was knocked over on the desk.
Frowning, Cissie sat upright and walked over to her desk and picked her photo up then placed it back where she had it. She was relieved that the glass was intact. Was it the wind? No, the window was closed. Maybe one of the movers knocked it over? She didn’t see how or why any of them would need to be in her room.
Suddenly, her mother’s voice was in her head about the dangers of strange men and she immediately went on the defensive as she dropped to the floor to look under her bed. Nothing. Eyes bright and alert she stood back up and cautiously threw open her closet door. Nothing. Finally, she turned on the bathroom light and was relieved to find nothing still. She was alone. She was safe, and she laughed to herself bitterly. “Damn Cissie, you’re turning into your mother. The photo fell over because it fell over.”
Done with the paranoia and the mental gymnastics of the day, Cissie got dressed for bed in a simple blue silk matching pajama set then crawled under her covers. The bed frame squeaked under her only once, then she turned off her lamp.
Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness she looked out the window and was glad to see that she could see the lighthouse, and the light did in fact rotate around. It was a beautiful emerald green, like a Green Lantern.
Cissie watched it for a long time before her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open and she fell asleep, but before she did she could have sworn she felt someone sit on the bed next to her. But that was impossible.