From: Rebecca Rusnak Subject: The House Across the Street (1/1) The House Across the Street (1/1) by Rebecca Rusnak SUMMARY: This is a pre-X-Files story based on Mulder's childhood. How neighbors could have viewed the Mulder family in Chilmark during Mulder's childhood. SPOILER: Part of this story was inspired by a line in Paper Hearts. DISCLAIMER: Mulder and his family do not belong to me, but to Chris Carter, etc. I'm making no money from this. CATEGORY: S RATING: G Please Archive and send me Feedback, please! E-mail me at rrusnak@Lconn.com Thanks goes to Pellinor, for her encouragement telling me I ought to do this story. Her wonderful research archive made part of this story possible. The House Across the Street by Rebecca Rusnak November 25, 1965 Chilmark, Massachusetts 10:18 a.m. Rosalie Common sipped her tea with an air of studied calm. Her eyes met that of her best friend, Alicia Foxworth, over the rim of the china cup. "Well," Alicia said, "I suppose we should go offer our congratulations." "Yes I suppose," Rosalie sighed, using her best tone of aggrieved importance. The two women, both just shy of the half-century mark, finished their tea and laid the empty cups back in their saucers without so much as a rattle. Although their eyes strayed to the house across the street, neither woman made any signs of moving. Rosalie let her gaze drift out the window again, to the large white house directly across Vine Street from her own. "I hear she had a girl," she said finally. "Mmm-hmm," Alicia nodded knowingly. "They've named her Samantha Ann." Rosalie felt a pang of jealousy--her friend always seemed to know the news of the town before Rosalie herself did. But she didn't mind too much. Alicia's information was almost always correct. "Samantha." She tried the name out. "That will do quite nicely. Not like the boy's." Alicia sniffed. It was a sore spot with the neighborhood ladies that Elizabeth Mulder had disregarded all the friendly advice given her during her first pregnancy, and decided to give her son a name only a California hippie would love. Elizabeth's snub was also one of the many reasons the Mulder family was frowned upon by the women of Chilmark. Rosalie lowered her voice, although sitting indoors, nobody could possibly overhear her. "You know, the real question is, how long will Bill stay around for?" Alicia let out a rather unlady-like snort. "If I know Bill, now that Elizabeth's home from the hospital, he'll leave tomorrow." It was a good guess, but the problem, Rosalie realized, was that none of them really *did* know Bill Mulder. He and his family were a mystery. The ladies of Chilmark did not like mystery. So speculation on the Mulders ran rampant. Nobody knew for sure just what Bill Mulder did in the State Department. Some of the younger, more daring women suggested that he might be a spy. The older women had quickly dismissed that idea--no spy in his right mind would be married and have young children. But not even they could account for why Bill Mulder was absent for such long stretches of time. Elizabeth Mulder was no help at all. She had offered no information about her husband; either she did not know, or she did and just wasn't saying. Nor would Elizabeth explain just who the mysterious men were who came to visit Bill during those infrequent periods when he *was* home. "Well, I tell you, if Robert had left me alone so soon after Julia's birth, I would have set him straight quickly enough." Rosalie sat back with a smug air. It was public knowledge that Robert Common, Chilmark's respected attorney, had stayed with his wife for a week after the birth of his only daughter. It was also common knowledge that Robert was thoroughly cowed by his wife, too, but nobody made mention of *that* fact. "I don't believe Elizabeth Mulder has got a whit of common sense when it comes to that husband of hers," Alicia said. She spoke from her superior position as wife of one of the town's Selectmen. Her husband, John Foxworth, would have been astonished to learn just how many of his ideas came not from his own genius, but from the "humble" suggestions of his wife. "You would think after four years of marriage she would have learned how to control her man." Rosalie nodded in agreement. It was true. Elizabeth let everybody control her, including her four-year old son. "And that boy of hers." Alicia gave a long-suffering sigh. "Do you know, I found him digging a hole in my backyard just the other day? He said that he wanted to see if our yard had more or less worms than his did." Rosalie shook her head. "She ought to watch him more closely. He's such a bright child, always getting into everything. One of these days he's going to get himself hurt." Alicia shook her head. "Not Fox Mulder. That boy has the luck of the Irish." May 10, 1972 Chilmark, Massachusetts 3:45 p.m. The house across the street was quiet now, a marked change from just two hours ago. Rosalie sipped her tea thoughtfully and finally asked the question that had been burning in the back of her throat all afternoon. "So, what do you think happened?" Her friend shrugged. "A fall off her bike, maybe. Maybe her brother pushed her." Rosalie disagreed. "No, I don't think so. I've seen them argue before, but I think they get along quite well for brother and sister. Fox wouldn't hurt her." "Mm-hmmm. But something did," Alicia replied. Which was certainly true. She and Alicia had been sitting on the front porch, enjoying the warm spring air, talking desultorily of their aging processes. Then, without warning, the laughter and playful shouts from the Mulder's backyard had suddenly erupted into genuine screams. Rosalie suppressed a shiver. Yes, whatever had happened, Samantha Mulder had definitely been hurt. "It could be that swing of theirs," Alicia now offered. "You know they have that rope swing. I see the two of them playing on it all the time." Rosalie had no way of knowing if this was true, but the Foxworths lived next door to the Mulders, so she took Alicia's word for it. She sipped at her tea, remembering the stricken look on Fox Mulder's face as he had watched his mother lay his sister in the back seat of the family Buick. He had looked so guilty, an odd expression that was out of place on the face of a ten-year old. She supposed maybe Alicia was right, and they had been playing on the rope swing. Maybe Fox had even been pushing Samantha when she'd fallen off. It would certainly account for that look on his face. "I wonder what Bill will have to say about all this?" she mused. Alicia frowned. "Probably he'll yell at Fox for not watching his sister better. Then he'll yell at Elizabeth for not watching her children more closely. Then he'll threaten to take down the rope swing and bluster around some, go inside to have a drink, and end the evening in a drunken stupor at his kitchen table." Rosalie gaped at her friend. While an entire town might know a family's secrets, one still did not spill them all in such a callous manner. It just wasn't done. Alicia turned to look at her. "What?" she finally asked. "I live next door, dear, don't forget. I hear things much better than you." November 28, 1973 Chilmark, Massachusetts 4:35 p.m. Rosalie sipped her tea with a hand that shook slightly, and prayed Alicia didn't notice. These days her hands shook of their own accord, and she knew she could pass off their tremors today as part of the aging business, but it would be a lie. And if Alicia began questioning her, she knew she would not be able to keep quiet about her secret. A blue sedan drove by the house, the sound of its passing breaking the heavy silence that lay between the two women. The Thanksgiving holiday was winding down, and traffic had picked up on the island. Cars with out-of-state license plates were parked in almost every driveway up and down Vine Street. All except for the house across the street, which seemed to carry a preternatural aura of stillness around it. "What do you think happened?" asked Alicia. Rosalie pursed her lips, but said nothing. The truth was, she didn't know, and the other truth was, she wasn't sure she *wanted* to know. For a moment she was dangerously close to blurting out her secret, then she swallowed the words. *Something* had happened last night at the Mulder house, and while the whole neighborhood was abuzz with curiosity, the plain fact was that nobody knew much. "I think she just ran away," Alicia said. She glanced at Rosalie, then returned her gaze to the house across the road. "Maybe," Rosalie replied. The entire island knew about the discontented family living at 2790 Vine Street. And more than once, Rosalie herself had seen young Samantha stand in the driveway and holler that she was going to run away, and then they would be sorry. "Well, what do you think?" Rosalie didn't know what to think. "Maybe somebody came in and kidnapped her." Alicia dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "Then why take Samantha and not Fox?" Rosalie looked at Alicia shrewdly. She was just the neighbor across the street, but even *she* knew that Samantha was the apple of Bill Mulder's eye. "Because, dear, Bill would pay more for her." As she said it, a thrill of horror ran down her spine. Alicia was silent, digesting this for a while. Then she nodded. "You're right. They must have kidnapped her for ransom." The two women were silent, sipping their tea, gazing out the sitting room window. Rosalie sighed inwardly. It wasn't a perfect answer to the question of what had happened, but it did answer alot of the littler questions. Why, for example, no less than three police cars had arrived last night around 10:00. Why Bill Mulder had left the house early this morning and returned only an hour ago. Why the FBI, of all things, was rumored to be starting an investigation into Samantha Mulder's disappearance. Rosalie supposed that when you worked in the State Department, people sat up and noticed when your child was taken. One of the double doors across the street opened them, and Rosalie and Alicia sat up straighter. They watched in silent fascination as twelve-year old Fox walked down the porch steps. His dark hair hung in his eyes, and his head was down, obscuring his face. His gait was that of an old, old man. Alicia made a commiserating sound in the back of her throat. "Poor boy. He's always been so bright." Rosalie shot her friend a look. The years were taking their toll on both of them, and sometimes Alicia just didn't grasp things mentally the way she once had. Rosalie wondered if this wasn't the case now. "Well, it's hardly going to make him a dullard now." "Oh, I know," Alicia answered, "but just think, now he'll find it hard to concentrate on his school work." Rosalie sighed and shook her head. Her attention was caught as again the Mulder's front door opened. This time Bill himself stood in the doorway. He stared for a moment at his son, who was trudging up the sidewalk, then opened his mouth and called something. It was too bad it wasn't summer. If she and Alicia were on the porch they would be able to hear what was being said. They watched as Fox stopped walking, but did not turn around. Watched his shoulders hunch, while Bill continued to stand in the doorway and speak. Watched as Bill finally strode out onto the porch, and Fox abruptly turned around and headed for the house. Watched as Fox reached the porch, and Bill put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him inside. The door shut and the two women turned to gaze at each other. "Did you see that?" Rosalie finally said. "What do you suppose it means?" "He's scared of losing his other child," Alicia said firmly. "He's afraid to let Fox out of his sight now." It made sense, in a way, but there was something about Alicia's response that didn't ring true with what they had just seen. Rosalie shifted in her seat but said nothing. They were silent for a time, sipping their tea, and Rosalie considered telling her neighbor her secret. Thought of telling her friend that she had been awakened last night, around 8:45, by a searing bright light streaming in through her window. Thought about it, then discarded the idea. "So," Alicia began again, "what do you think happened?" ***************************** Finis Author's Note: The middle scene in this story comes from the scene in "Paper Hearts" where Mulder tells Scully that Samantha fell off the rope swing in their backyard when she was six and broke her collarbone. My apologies to anybody I confused.