Bootsie Bootsie In The Wall…

(The following Short story was submitted for a prompt On Artoons Writers room. The picture prompt was : For Sale: Baby shoes. Never worn )

“Madam… see this”, The worker whispered.

Ananya looked up from setting the cot. The worker’s hammer had punched through a hollow section of the wall. Inside sat a pair of pristine white baby shoes, lace-lined.

They were impossibly new.

There was a folded scrap of yellow paper tucked in one of them. Ananya unfolded it.

Six words were typed on it.

For sale: baby shoes, never worn

The oldest worker came forward, his face pale. “LEAVE THEM THERE. SEAL THE WALL.”

“Ridiculous! This is as per the design…” Ananya argued. The room was for her eight-year-old daughter, Tara.

“JUST SEAL IT”

Was that a warning?

He walked out. No argument, no explanation.

He was never seen again.

A week later, Ananya moved in with her husband, Vikram and Tara. She couldn’t stop thinking about the old worker.

The dream house seemed strange.

Every creak seemed louder.

Every shadow lingered a little longer.

That night Tara walked into her parents’ bedroom.

“Mumma, why is the baby crying?”

A chill crawled down Ananya’s spine.

“Wh-what baby?”

“The one inside the wall.”

Ananya smiled and took Tara back to her room.

She tucked her in.

Moments later, Ananya heard it.

A faint sound from the wall.

She walked towards the wall she had remodelled last week.

She touched the wall.

The crying stopped.

Early next morning Ananya and Vikram walked into Tara’s room and gasped. Innumerable tiny muddy footprints spread across the floor and even the ceiling. Too tiny to match Tara’s. Several sets of prints ended on Tara’s pillow as if someone stood watching her.

“Tara needs to be disciplined… such an attention seeker.” Vikram sighed and strode out but Ananya stood rooted in her place. She recalled the old worker’s words.

A couple of days later Tara settled for her homework while Ananya dusted furniture.

“Amma, she is soooo cute. I love her smile.”

“Who, sweetheart?” Ananya asked. Perhaps Tara had made a new friend in school.

“The baby and the other cute babies, amma… they don’t like darkness.”

Ananya’s hand stopped mid-air.

“Amma, they love lullabies… like the one you sing for me.”

Ananya walked towards Tara, sweating profusely, her hands tightly fisted.

“What… do they… want, Tara?”

“Their shoes, amma.”

Ananya plonked on the floor, breathing heavily.

Tara sang as if in a daze.

“Bootsie-bootsie in the wall,

who will stay…

who will fall…?”

Something was wrong… very wrong.

The next day Tara showed her a few drawings. The first was a sketch of an old woman in the centre surrounded by innumerable babies.

In the second sketch, the babies had lost their facial features.

Another sketch followed that showed the babies in skeletal forms.

It was here Ananya’s blood ran cold.

Tara stood amidst the skeletons.

Smiling.

The following day, Ananya met the septuagenarian town librarian, Prabha.

“You found… the shoes?” Prabha had turned white. “It is her house… midwife Savitri Rao. Babies were dead or suddenly disappeared, never to be found. Rumours spread. Investigations happened, but… no results. Here, look… a file picture.”

Ananya only stared.

The woman in the picture was identical to the woman in Tara’s sketch.

“The worker? He wasn’t the first…” Prabha sighed.

Ananya rushed home to a wailing babysitter.

Tara had disappeared. One moment she was having her evening snack… the next moment she was gone.

Ananya frantically looked everywhere. Vikram joined too, screaming Tara’s name.

In a sudden moment of silence amidst the cacophony…

They heard giggles.

From Tara’s room.

They rushed there.

The room was empty.

Just then, the closet door opened, and Tara stepped out. Her eyes were distant.

“Bootsie-bootsie in the wall…

One comes in…

One won’t crawl

One stays…

None leave at all…”

Soon, noises began coming in from the wall. An ancient lullaby drifted through the room.

Followed by baby cries.

Gurgles.

Whispers

Chuckles.

Tara walked towards the centre of the room.

Facing the wall.

Laughing.

Speaking softly, incoherently.

To someone unseen.

The plaster crumbled, with a thunderous groan, the wall split open.

The hidden chamber beyond stretched far deeper than the house’s dimensions.

Ananya screamed.

Hundreds of infant skeletons were spread neatly across the floor.

Scattered among them lay dozens of baby shoes.

Untouched.

Sudden silence.

Then came a scraping sound. One skeleton moved.

Soon, all of them tilted together.

Tiny jaws opened.

The lullaby began….

Again.

A figure emerged from the darkness.

Faded white saree on a skeletal frame, eyes black pits.

Savitri

“I promised… they will never be alone…” Turning towards Tara, the figure smiled. “…Come home, dear. It’s time.”

The skeletons began crawling forward.

Ananya grabbed Tara and ran out of the house. Vikram followed. Behind them, the walls shuddered. The house collapsed into itself, flames erupting into an inferno.
By dawn, nothing remained but ash and twisted beams.
The nightmare had ended.
Ananya believed so…

Six months later, Ananya checked out the advertisement that suddenly popped up in her feed.

Her coffee cup slipped from her hand.

‘FOR SALE: BABY SHOES, NEVER WORN’

Beneath the words was a photograph.

The pristine pair of white shoes. Lace-lined…

Untouched by fire.

Untouched by time

Ananya’s gaze drifted to the reflection in the shop window behind them.

Tara stood smiling. Surrounded by Savitri and the babies.

Watching the camera.

Watching her.

“Bootsie bootsie…”

Ananya turned around.

Tara stood in the doorway. Smiling after months.

Tiny footprints appeared on the walls.

Ceiling.

One by one.

Coming closer…

(Word count 900)

Cover picture : Photo by Lewis Darby on Unsplash