Facing our fears with Netflix

I think about it for a bit. She is no stranger to binge-watching shows...and it is a stormy night... “I have an idea.” I give her a mischievous look. “We have a long, rainy day... How do you feel about marathoning all of Haunting of Hill House?”

Her eyes narrow. “A horror show? Oh, I don’t know... I’m already trying not to freak out as it is. And I hate jump scares.”

“It isn’t that kind of horror...more of a slow and psychological spooky story. I’ve only seen the first episode, but I am eager to finish it. I hear it is great all the way through. How better to deal with this weather than to embrace our fears together?”

Mindy raises her eyebrows, fighting a smile. “I haven’t read a horror novel since high school... How many episodes are there?”

“Few enough that we could get through them in a day,” I say with a confident smile. “We can take a break at any time, or stop if it is too much. Think of it like a kind of therapeutic rollercoaster for exorcising irrational fears.”

Mindy lets out a little laugh. “Is that how it works? Oh...okay. We can try it.” She puts on a suddenly serious face. “But if you intentionally scare me, I am done.”

“Deal. I will be nothing but supportive. Besides, I might be more scared than you.”

“Yeah, I doubt that!” A few seconds later she laughs. “The scariest part is going to be not having any junk food.”

At the mention of junk food, I swivel my head to look at her freezer, wondering how much ice cream might be hidden inside. She reads my mind.

“Not without a warrant.” We both laugh and get up from the table.

In the living room, Mindy turns on a dim lamp next to the couch. It is just enough light to break the gloomy grey from outside. She starts the first episode as I spread the blanket across our laps. Before settling back into the couch, she turns to me with a serious expression.

“Now no scaring me, remember?”

“I wouldn’t dare! That would be counter-productive to the therapy.”

“Good... I’m trusting you.”

The show starts and is as good as I remember, sucking me in right away. The show’s quiet moments are made all the creepier by the raging storm outside. I am excited by what a good idea this is, stealing occasional glances at Mindy, who seems completely engrossed in it. I stiffen a little when we get to a lovemaking scene. I self-consciously try not to move, fearing that it will make the moment weird between us, but it passes quickly enough that we don’t need to address it. As tension ratchets near the end of the episode, we lean up against each other. When it is over, we stop to talk about it.

“What do you think so far?” I ask, dying to know. Mindy looks enthusiastic.

“It is really good! ...It’s refreshing to have such interesting characters in this kind of show. They are usually so flat. But if it gets much scarier, I might chicken out though.”

“I might be the one to chicken out.”

“Whatever,” she says whacking my blanket-covered thigh. “You are just trying to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?” I grin.

“We’ll see how far we get.” Her face slowly changes, giving me a guilty look. “I think we need some kind of snack to keep going though... Is popcorn okay?”

“That sounds great,” I answer, but it doesn’t change her expression.

“How about highly buttered popcorn?”

“If it doesn’t look radioactive, I won’t judge you for it—as far as you know.” That gets a short giggle out of her.

“Thank goodness. There is no way I’m getting through this with just a vegetable tray.” She gets up and goes about heating it in the microwave. “What would you like to drink?” I join her in the kitchen as another idea hits me.

“I just remembered something that I want to try.” Mindy looks at me quizzically. “I’ve heard that popcorn pairs well with champagne.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that. Too bad I don’t have any.”

“You think so, but you do. Your van is full of it. It was part of my delivery. Wanna try it with me?” I give her a hopeful look.

“And you are just going to take one? Don’t they need it?”

“I can replace it tomorrow,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. ”You get the glasses, I’ll get the bottle. I’m excited to see if pairing them is actually as good as they say.” I hurry into the garage, quickly returning with the prize. I pop the bottle open, ricocheting the cork off the ceiling, making Mindy cry out, nearly dropping the wine glass she is washing. She spins around and glares at me.

“I said not to scare me!”

“No—that one didn’t count!” I put up a hand to convey honesty.

“And why is that?” She demands with narrowed eyes.

“Because it wasn’t intentional!”

She shakes her head at my excuse. “Suuuure. I see what game you are playing now.” Her mouth purses tightly, But fails to hide a smile. “That is your last warning, though.”

I pour our glasses and hand her one. She pulls the fresh bowl of popcorn between us. Together we take turns munching and sipping the champagne.

“Hmmmm,” she says,

“Mmmmm. Interesting,” I add with a raised eyebrow.

“Indeed,” she adds in an fancy voice with a thoughtful finger tapping her chin.

I swirl my glass with a raised pinky and pop another kernel in my mouth and sip again. “Intriguing,” I say in a fancier voice.

“Okay, what do you really think?”

“It’s good. They don’t clash with each other at any rate. What do you think?”

“I’ll pick this over a vegetable tray any day.”

Satisfied with our snack choices, we sit and start the second episode. It doesn’t take long for the episode get creepy. Soon I realize that I’ve heard a spoiler about what is about to happen in the next scene, so I take Mindy’s free hand, then give her a look that says, ‘Brace yourself.’ When the moment comes, she shrieks in discomfort, tightly grabbing my hand with both of hers and leaning into me. It only lasts a couple seconds, and wasn’t actually that bad, but we cosy up a little tighter after that. We refill our glasses for the third episode and jump right in. Episode three has a couple scary basement scenes that leave Mindy clutching me with her face buried in my chest. I put my arm over her to make it more comfortable for both of us. I tell her when it is safe to look again. When the episode is over, we agree it is a good time for a break. Mindy looks for something to cook for us.

“So...I did say that I was going to check your basement for flooding. I could do that now.“

“You have to be kidding! After that episode? I don’t want to acknowledge that I even have a basement right now.”

“...But we are facing our fears together, right? Come with me.”

“Oh no! You are facing that one on your own!” Then she opens a junk drawer and pulls out an old flashlight, handing it to me. It is a heavy double D-cell flashlight that hasn’t been manufactured for a couple decades now. I switch it on, activating a small incandescent bulb that dims out in seconds.

“Nope! Throw that thing away! It’s creepier than anything I’m going to find the basement,” I say, putting it back on the counter. She smirks at me. I walk into the pantry and flick on the light switch at the top of the basement stairs. It looks bright enough down there, but I pull out my phone and turn on its light, just in case. The first stair creaks loudly under my foot, making me swear under my breath.

Mindy calls out to me when I am halfway down, “Warren, whatever happens down there, don’t you dare scream, Okay? If you do, we are done!” She is standing in the pantry looking down at me.

“I should accept my gruesome fate in silence. Got it.”

“That’s not funny!”

“Don’t make jokes about my imminent demise. Got it.”

“Warren!”

I laugh. “I’ll be fine. Be right back...” Mindy groans to herself and walks away quickly.

When I return, she has a pot of chicken soup, two small salads and toast ready for us. There is also a vegetable tray out, probably just to prove that she actually bought one this morning. She watches me carefully, waiting for the bad news.

“You look pale. Why do you look pale?” She asks like she doesn’t actually want to know the answer.

“Because I’ve been watching a horror show about creepy basements...” I stand at the counter, taking in the welcome smells of comfort food. “There is no sign of flooding...or ghosts. You are all clear.”

“Thank goodness. Thank you for not screaming.”

“You are very welcome. Now if you don’t mind, I am **** to find out if champagne pairs with soup.” I pour myself a hearty glass.

Mindy slides her empty glass to me. “Now that you mention it, I am **** to know the same thing.”