The Rocking House

What do you do when you live in a house that rocks—a place that looks normal on the outside, but inside can be dangerous?

Do you hide? Leave? Pretend everything is fine?

This is the story of a girl who learned to withstand a Rocking House. It's a story for anyone, of any age, who ever lived in a house that rocked. It offers comfort and inspiration, it opens the door to what might come next—which is entirely up to you.

Transcript

Hi,

I'm Jewel Kutchera,

And this is The Rockinghouse.

It's taken a long time to get to this point.

This story has been years in the making.

It got started with just being a song,

Which I wrote at three in the morning during my first marriage.

And I would sing this song to myself when I needed to hear it.

Then,

Several years later,

I had a friend who had a niece who had just earned a four-year full-ride academic athletic scholarship to college.

And she was thinking of turning it down so she could stay home and take care of her alcoholic father.

And I thought,

She needs my song.

And then I thought,

My song,

Just the song is not going to help her.

She needs a story to go with it.

So I wrote a story around the song,

And I gave it to my friend,

And she gave it to her niece.

And I don't know how instrumental that all was,

But the niece went to college and graduated and has a good job.

It's really for anybody who's ever lived in a rocking house,

And especially for those who still do.

The Rocking House Once upon a time,

There was a little girl who lived in a rocking house.

From the outside,

It looked normal,

But inside,

It rocked.

The floor tilted.

The furniture rumbled and snarled at her.

If the girl was not careful,

She would fall over.

The girl tried to still the rocking house by being quiet.

She said to herself,

If I am quiet and I ask for nothing,

Maybe the house will stop.

So she was quiet and asked for nothing,

But the house kept rocking so badly that some days it was impossible to walk upstairs.

Since being quiet was not enough to stop the rocking,

She said,

I will be quiet,

I will ask for nothing,

And I will be still,

Then maybe the house will stop.

So she was quiet,

She asked for nothing,

And she was still,

So still that sometimes she thought she was frozen,

But the house did not stop rocking.

Next,

She thought,

I will be quiet,

I will ask for nothing,

I will be still,

And I will stand in the middle of the floor for balance,

Then maybe the house will stop.

So she was quiet,

She asked for nothing,

She was still,

And she stood in the middle of the floor,

Even though sometimes the furniture crashed into her,

But the house did not stop rocking.

That is how it went.

Some days when the rocking was bad and she fell on the floor and bloodied her knees,

The girl would go outside for refuge.

She escaped to a field at the end of her street.

It was covered with tall grasses and ringed by sheltering trees.

There she could breathe,

Feel the sun on her back and know that the world was not crazy.

But if she wasn't home in time for dinner,

The house shook with fury.

One day,

A special messenger came to the front door of the rocking house.

The girl saw the messenger through the window,

In a bright blue uniform with gold buttons.

The doorbell rang and rang and rang,

But the girl was in the corner,

Trapped by the dresser.

She had to get to the messenger.

The girl slipped down,

Made herself as small as she could,

And scooted between the legs of the dresser.

As she popped out the other side,

The doorbell stopped.

The girl ran for the door.

The dresser spun and came roaring after her.

She pulled the door open,

Slipped out,

Then slammed it shut behind her.

The dresser smashed into the door but didn't stop her.

The girl let out a long breath.

She was safe,

At least for now.

There was no sign of the special messenger,

Even though the girl looked as far as she could see.

She plunked down on the stoop,

Hung her head,

And cried.

The first tear fell with a loud plop,

But she didn't notice.

When she heard the second plop,

The girl opened her eyes and saw a shiny,

Tear-stained golden envelope.

It was addressed to her.

She tucked the envelope inside her shirt and headed to the field.

There,

Tall grasses brushed against her legs as she stepped into the grass.

When she came to a flattened spot where a deer might have slept,

She sat,

Hidden and protected.

The girl opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

It was golden,

Too.

It said,

Dear one,

I love you.

It's time for you to leave the rocking house.

How can I leave,

She wondered.

After all this time,

She and the rocking house were familiar with each other.

She knew when the rocking would be strongest and how to bend her knees so she wouldn't fall,

Usually.

She even knew the best places to stay out of the way of the dresser,

Most of the time.

She thought and thought.

Then she decided and said to herself,

Allowed to be certain,

No,

I won't go.

When the girl stood to go home,

The sun was already setting.

She had to hurry.

The girl ran to the rocking house,

Then slowed to climb the steps.

When she opened the door,

The house was still.

Everything was where it belonged.

The girl slipped inside and softly closed the door.

As she took another step,

The girl felt a movement.

She looked up.

The chandelier above the table quivered just a little.

Then the chairs crept away from the table and came up behind her.

She thought the table snickered as it slipped to one side of her,

And the dresser slunk to the other.

The chairs and the table and the dresser closed in on the girl,

Forcing her toward the shaking chandelier,

Crystals rattling.

With a crack,

The chandelier let go of the ceiling and flew straight at her head.

The girl grabbed a chair and smashed the chandelier to the floor.

Then she leapt onto the dresser and from there to the stairs,

But the stairs collapsed and turned into a slide.

The girl grabbed the banister and squeezed her eyes shut as the table skidded,

The chair screeched,

The dresser thundered,

The floor rumbled,

And the house rocked.

It rocked as the sun disappeared and the sky went dark and the moon came out.

Some say the girl hit her head on the stairs.

What we know is she had a dream.

The girl dreamt she was outside,

The sun was on her back,

The trees were around her,

And the world was not crazy.

She saw a rabbit and a turtle and a bird.

The rabbit and the turtle were ordinary,

But the bird was extraordinary.

It was taller than a person with cobalt blue feathers and an orange beak.

As she stood dazzled by the bird,

It stretched its wings wide,

So wide they filled the sky,

And sang to the girl.

Lay down,

Lay down all those oughts and shoulds and have-tos.

Lay down,

Lay down the mask you wear for a face and go out there where there are no lines or boundaries,

Where you thought there were no maps but you were wrong.

There is a brilliant blazing map and it's laid out on your heart and it shows you the way every time.

It's never wrong or missing.

It's good in all locations.

All you have to do is listen and make choices.

So feel what you feel.

Do not be afraid.

Your heart will not betray you even though it's been betrayed,

And it wants to take you out there,

And it wants to lead you upward,

And it wants to take you to the sun.

So go,

Go to the clouds,

The sky.

Go to the truth beyond the lie.

Go,

Go to the moon,

The stars.

Go,

Be well.

Go.

In the morning,

When the girl awoke,

Her hands clenched the banister,

The chairs were tipped over in a corner,

The table was against the far wall,

And the dresser was flat on its face.

Nothing moved.

The girl peeled her aching hands from the banister and ran upstairs.

She had to be quick.

First,

The girl grabbed her thick sweater for when it was cold,

Then her shiny yellow slicker with the hood for when it rained.

She pulled on the sweater and then the slicker,

Which made her arms stick out,

And crept down the stairs.

The house was still silent.

The girl tried to avoid the broken bits of chandelier,

But shards of glass crunched under her feet.

She flinched at the sound.

Opening the front door,

She hesitated.

Could she really do this?

Could she just leave?

Crunch.

The sound sent shivers down her spine.

Something moved behind her,

Coming for her.

The girl bolted through the door,

Slammed it shut,

And ran down the steps.

As she sprinted for the field,

The world blurred.

She ran,

Then slowed,

Then stopped.

The girl knew what she was running away from,

But what was she running toward?

The field?

She couldn't live in a field.

Where would she go?

Just then,

The girl heard a soft whisper.

She lifted an ear to hear.

The sweet sound was behind her,

And she turned toward it.

It was coming from the rocking house.

The house had never spoken.

Yes,

The table sneered,

And the chair snarled,

And the dresser smirked.

But this was the house,

Sending words in a soft,

Sweet voice.

Come back,

Cooed the house.

We miss you.

We need you.

The rocking house was speaking to her.

Had the house changed?

The strands of words came closer,

Weaving together like stunning silken braids,

Graceful,

Beautiful.

It was a dream,

Sang the house.

That's not who we really are.

The braids of words spiraled into the air and then down,

Like a fountain of silk.

We belong together.

Come home.

The braids were close now.

Come home,

Said the silken words.

We love you.

Come home.

The words pooled at her feet,

Begging.

The girl's eyes welled with tears that spilled.

She wanted to believe so badly.

As the girl wiped the tears from her cheek,

Her fingers grazed a tender spot.

Ouch.

The bruise must have come when the stairs turned into a slide and banged her around.

The girl pressed her fingers into the bruise,

Wanted the reminder.

Pain spread across her cheek and into the bone.

No,

She said to the shimmering words.

Love doesn't leave bruises.

The words were quick,

Scurrying.

That was an accident,

A mistake.

We're so sorry.

The girl folded her arms across her chest.

How do I know you won't do it again?

The words slunk forward.

Please forgive us.

Please come home.

Could she trust the words?

She took a step closer.

A strand of silken words reached out,

Touched the girl's ankle with an icy tingle.

The braided words wound their way up the girl's calves.

More words climbed her thighs,

Wrapped across her stomach and up her back.

The girl tried to shake herself free,

But the words tightened,

Binding her arms to her chest,

Squeezing,

Wrapping her legs so tight she thought she would fall.

The words pulled,

Dragged her toward the house.

She fought back,

But the words pulled harder.

We love you so much,

Sang the words near her ear,

Their breath sweet and warm.

The girl thought about other words written on golden paper sung by a cobalt bird.

She thought about what real love might be.

Her heart beat in her chest and she could almost see it,

Pounding strong.

Her heart knew love.

Her heart knew the Rocking House did not love her,

Could not love her.

Trusting her heart,

The girl drew the biggest,

Deepest breath she could,

Which stretched the words even tighter across her chest.

She took all the air she had and shouted as loud as she could,

You don't love me.

The girl's voice pierced the words of the Rocking House.

They shrank and shriveled and fell at her feet,

Writhing like worms.

The girl ran to the field.

She ran into the tall grasses and they beat against her legs.

She ran until she came to the small flattened spot.

There she collapsed,

Face to the ground,

Chest heaving.

The girl lay there until her breath and her heart slowed.

Then she rolled over and sat up.

Her left knee hurt.

It was bruised,

So was her left elbow.

She curled and uncurled her stiff fingers.

Something moved in the pocket of her slicker.

Still as a stone,

The girl dropped her eyes to see.

Had the Rocking House come after her?

First,

She saw a whiskered nose peeking from her pocket.

Then a real rabbit jumped out and leapt into her arms.

Next,

From the other pocket lumbered a turtle,

Plodding to a stop on her knee.

Then something rustled in her hood.

Out flew the cobalt bird.

Now the size of a normal bird,

It landed on her yellow-slickered shoulder,

Fluffed its wings,

And settled.

How did you all get here?

Asked the girl,

Stunned to see the animals from her dream.

We've always been here,

Said the turtle.

The rabbit nodded and twitched its whiskers.

But we couldn't come out.

It wasn't safe.

Oh,

Said the girl.

She looked at the bird,

But the bird just smiled.

Her mind was a jumble.

I don't know what to do,

She told them.

You're off to a good start,

Said the rabbit,

Nuzzling and tickling her neck.

But I want to know what to do.

You will,

Said the turtle,

Bumping the girl's knee with its shell,

A turtle-sized version of a pat on the back.

I will?

Yes,

Said the bird,

Bringing its sharp beak close to her nose.

But you must know what you want to know which way to go.

The bird cocked its blue head.

What do you want?

The girl closed her eyes and put one hand on her heart.

She stayed that way until she knew,

Which seemed like a long time to her,

But really wasn't any time at all.

I want a home,

A place where I feel safe,

A place filled with love.

I want to sit in a cozy chair with sunlight streaming through the window,

And I want you all to be there with me.

Excellent,

Said the bird as the rabbit nodded and the turtle added.

Well then,

Which way should we go?

The girl opened her eyes and pointed.

That way.

She jumped to her feet.

Let's go.

The girl slipped the turtle and the rabbit back into the pockets they had come from,

Making sure each could see out.

They used their paws and claws to hold fast to the pocket edge.

She glanced at the bird to see if it was slippery on her shoulder,

But the bird looked steady.

As they walked,

The girl's chest rose.

I did it,

She squealed.

You did,

Yelped the rabbit.

First time,

Sputtered the turtle.

What do you mean,

First time?

Asked the girl.

The turtle stretched its neck to look her in the eye.

Lots more listening to do.

Lots more choices.

Oh,

Said the girl.

She nodded once,

Squared her shoulders,

And picked up her pace.

Then she said,

Do you remember the song from my dream?

Yes,

Said the bird as the rabbit and turtle bobbed their heads.

It was a little bouncy riding in the pockets,

Especially now that the girl walked so quickly.

Then let's sing,

Said the girl.

She wasn't used to singing,

But her voice was clear and strong,

And the bird,

The rabbit,

And the turtle sang with her.

This time,

The words that followed the girl weren't words from the rocking house,

But from her own heart.

The end.

But really,

Just the beginning.

Reviews

This story resonates with me, beautifully written! Thank you for sharing your gift!

Excellent ! I know someone to share this with. Thank you 💕