They had finished their lunch and were beginning to tidy up the kitchen. “Have you girls unpacked your suitcases?” Nicole asked, as she wiped off the kitchen table.
“I have,” Angie replied. “But Riley hasn't. She said there was clothes in the dressers.”
“Well then, why don't you go upstairs and help your sister unpack.”
Thinking quick on her feet, Angie said, “What if I finished up here and you helped Riley?” She had been looking forward to spending some time in the library. And she knew she would get done with the cleaning process in the kitchen a lot faster than helping with Riley's unpacking. A chore that she was certain, would leave her bored out of her skull.
“You've got a deal,” her mother said with a smile. “You do remember there is no dishwasher?”
Angie frowned, she could have kicked herself for not remembering. It's the 21st century after all, everyone has dishwashers.
“Ha ha,” Riley laughed as she skipped out of the kitchen.
“The supplies are under the sink,” her mother said over shoulder.
Twenty minutes later, Angie dried the last dish and was putting it in the cupboard. It probably wasn't the right spot, but she figured her mother would be rearranging everything anyway. Tossing the towel on the counter, “Wait till my friends hear about this,” she said softly to herself as she looked down at her shriveled fingers. “I sure hope there is a washer and dryer in this house. Cause I'm not about to beat my clothes on a rock in the nearest stream.”
With her work completed, she hurried down the hallway to the library before her mother could come up with something else for her to do. As she entered the room, she took a deep breath. Ah ... it had the unique familiar smell of leather and old paper. If nothing else, this room was going to help take away the nasty sting of being away from home. Closing the pocket doors behind her, she claimed the library as her own sanctuary. With the doors closed, it immediately created a notable stillness among all the books, disturbed ever so slightly by the creaks and groans of the house.
Angie walked to the huge bookcase, letting her gaze run along the rows of book spines. It was apparent that her Great Aunt and Uncle's taste in literature leaned in the direction of the classics. Angie found that to be interesting because that was her preference also. But what really thrilled her was the fact that many of the books were first editions. All those trips to rare book stores with her Nana made her realize the importance of their value. And with great care she removed a pristine Gone With The Wind from the shelf. “This has to be worth a small fortune,” she thought to herself as she ran her fingers over the front cover.
She looked around the room to find a choice spot to curl up with the book. Although the two wing backs in front of the fireplace looked comfortable enough, she decided on the large leather chair in front of the desk. It sat in a pool of sunlight and it made her realize how much she missed the warmth of California. And the fact that last night's storm ushered in a definite cold front and the house was beginning to take on an obvious chill added to the lure of the sunny warm spot.
Hurrying over to the chair, she sat down and sank three inches into the soft tufted leather. “This feels like heaven,” she thought as she kicked off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her. Now she was all set for a luxurious afternoon of reading. Just as she spread the open book across her lap, she lifted her eyes for a second to the desktop. There in the very center lay another book. She stared at it curiously. It had not been there this morning when she looked around this room. Maybe her mother? Certainly not Riley, she wouldn't pick up a book if her life depended on it.
Leaning forward, she lifted the book from the desk and studied the cover. Alice In Wonderland, it read. Angie instinctively flipped to the front to look at the copyright date. And there tucked in the pages was a folded paper. When she opened it, she was astonished because it revealed an ornate spidery handwritten letter addressed to her mother.
My dearest Nicole,
I've thought so much about you over the years. Ever since that first visit when you were just a little girl. How much you reminded Tony and I of our Alice. It did our hearts good to see you laughing and playing. So it only seemed right that we should leave you the house and the secret. How I envy you, you will have an interesting journey ahead of you. Be persistent and you will succeed.
Rainbow colors when touched by the sun,
Lets you see where Alice has run.
Surrounding the view, the meat of a tree,
Hides something special that's meant for thee.
With all my love,
Aunt Sophia
“What the hell?” Angie said aloud. “What a peculiar thing for an old woman to write.” She reread the letter two more times and she still felt as clueless as the first time. “Mo...om!!” She hollered as she headed for the stairs, and Riley's room. “I just found something weird.”
Monday, October 12, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Chapter 4
For the better part of the morning Angie avoided her mother and sister. She chose to remain holed up in her bedroom lamenting her misfortune. For a time she debated the pros and cons of unpacking her luggage. If she left them packed, then she would be ready at a moment's notice if her mother came to her senses and decided to return to California. But sheer boredom won out and she eventually emptied the contents upon the bed. Evidently this room had only been used as a guest room because all the dresser drawers were empty. So she set about carefully arranging her clothes and then stashing her luggage in the empty closet. They had traveled relatively light driving across America. So the rest of her personal belongings would arrive sometime next week.
Weary, Angie sat down on the edge of the bed. Her future at a new school felt scary and it made her stomach knot up and ache. She had a bit of a reprieve because next week was Thanksgiving and her mother had arranged for them to be out of school till after the holiday. Normally she would have been ecstatic about having time off for the holidays. But now it only felt like a dark cloud hanging over her head. Eventually she knew she would have to enter a strange, rinky-dink high school.
A soft knock on her door interrupted her melancholy mood.
“What?”
Her sister opened the door and poked her head into the room. “Friends?” Riley timidly asked while attempting a small smile. “I'm lonely.”
Angie suddenly felt unexpected warm fuzzies for her little sister. This was something she hadn't felt for quite awhile. And her face softened with a smile as she patted a spot on the mattress. “Friends,” she replied.
Riley broke into a large grin, rushed in, and leaped onto the bed. “Mom has been on the phone most of the morning. She told me to unpack my luggage. But the dressers in my room are still full of clothes. I didn't know what to do with them. So I didn't do anything.” She fell back on the mattress with a plop and stared at the ceiling. “It's weird here.”
Angie laid down beside her and joined in the staring of the ceiling. “Yeah. Weird.”
They remained quiet for a few minutes, each lost in the uncertainty of their futures. “Let's go exploring,”Angie finally said.
“Really?” Riley's face breaking into a smile.
“Come on. Before I change my mind,” Angie said hauling herself out of bed.
Riley jumped to the floor and grabbed her sister's hand. “Let's start in mom's room. She told me it is beautiful.”
Down the long hall they raced. The door was open and they peered inside. The room was spacious and sunny thanks to the multi-windowed tower that was adjacent to the master suite. Bright morning light flowed into the room sending shafts of warmth and brightness spilling over a thick oriental rug. And the antique furniture scattered about the room glowed a deep rosy hue.
They entered.
Angie slowly walked around looking but not touching. She stopped at the most impressive piece of furniture in the room, the large four-poster bed. Circling it, she settled herself upon its plump mattress, tucking one foot beneath her. Then she watched with irritation as Riley strolled around opening drawers and peering inside. It was clear that the girl had no qualms about touching other people's stuff, especially dead people's stuff.
“You really shouldn't be doing that,” Angie warned.
“Why not? All this belongs to mom now.”
“I know. But it just doesn't feel right. It's an invasion of privacy.”
“Alright if it will make you happy. I won't poke around anymore,” Riley said while closing the last drawer. She turned and suddenly spied the sitting room in the tower. Within seconds she was hurrying inside. “Wow! Come look at this Angie. It's a staircase.” she said with a bubble of excitement in her voice. Turning and looking back at her sister. “Want to go up and check it out?”
Angie realized how utterly pointless it was to say no, so she hopped off the bed. “Alright.” When she entered the sitting room, she gazed up at the wooden spiral staircase that wound up to the floor above. She noted that her sister was already half-way to the top. “Come on,” Riley said as she continued up and disappeared into the room beyond.
Angie quickly followed and found herself in yet another small circular room. It was empty of any furniture or knick-knacks. But no adornment was needed because it was simply stunning with its 360 degree view of the surrounding countryside. Although the trees had already lost their brilliantly festooned leaves, it only added to the spectacular landscape. Because now they could see for miles and miles in all directions.
Reluctantly, Angie pulled her eyes from the panorama to look around the empty little room. Aside from the staggering view beyond the windows, the only other things of interest were the doomed ceiling, which was painted a deep shade of blue and embellished with a sea of glittering stars. And an exquisite floor, inlaid with a compass rose.
Angie smiled. “This is a dreaming place.” she whispered.
Riley was still looking out the windows when an idea blossomed. “Let's go up to the attic?” she said.
Angie looked up from the floor and gave her sister a frown. “You can just put that idea out of your head.”
“I'll bet there's really great stuff hidden up there.”
“Give it a rest, will ya. I'm not going up there.”
“Why not? Are you afraid that we might see a ghost?” Riley in a low spooky voice. And she wiggled her outstretched fingers at her sister.
“Riley, why do you always have to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“So damn irritating, that's what,” Angie said, while planting her hands on her hips.
“Well, life with you is no picnic either,” Riley said. She hung her head and deliberately wiped at imaginary tears. “I'm sorry. I just thought it would be fun,” she said with pouted lips. She knew her sister was a sucker for this particular ploy.
“Stop it. I know you're not crying. Listen, if you promise not to make a big production out of this. We'll go up to the attic and back, lickety-split. Okay?”
Riley immediately beamed. “Yeah. Up and back as quick as can be.” Practically yanking her sister's arm out of its socket, she hurried to the stairs.
“That hurts. Let go!” Angie demanded as she broke free of her sister's surprisingly strong grasp. And she had to grab the newell post to prevent falling down the stairs. She felt the knob at the top wiggle beneath her fingers. Jeez, she thought to herself, another thing that needs fixed. How was her mother ever going to manage?
Riley hadn't bothered to stop. She practically flew down the stairs and was now waiting at the bottom “Come on, slow poke,” she hollered.
“Where's the fire?” Angie asked, as she wound her way down the stairs. “And how do we get up there? I haven't noticed any stairs.”
“It's this way,” Riley replied while trying to grab hold of her sister's arm again.
“No way,” Angie remarked while pulling her arm out of reach of her sister's death grip. “You lead. I'll follow.
“You're such a girlie-girl,” Riley declared.
Angie stood her ground. “Look. Do you want me to come along or not? I don't need to listen to your sassy mouth. I can find something else to entertain me.”
“I'm sorry,” Riley said, she knew it was way more fun to go exploring with her sister than by herself. “Follow me,” she said as she continued to walk and talk, leading them back through the bedroom and down the hallway. Stopping beside a closed door that was adjacent to the bathroom. “This is it,” she informed, while opening a door into a large walk-in closet. A dozen shelves holding towels and linens lined two walls. She scurried across to the far wall that contained another doorway. “Ta da.”
“This goes up to the attic?” Angie asked, looking at her sister with surprise. “How did you find it?”
“I've just been doing a little poking around on my own,” she answered with a touch of pride. She twisted the knob and they entered a stairwell that was narrow, dim, and cold. They ascended the creaking staircase. When they reached the top, Angie searched for a possible light switch. Eventually she found a string hanging from a forlorn bulb nestled in the rafters. It created only feeble light. But it was enough to reveal a typical attic cloaked in shadows, dust, cobwebs, mysterious boxes, and abandoned ancient suitcases.
Riley hurried ahead, stirring up dust and something else, a faint elusive scent. Angie's nose suddenly filled with a flowery fragrance. How odd, she thought just before she let out a sneeze, followed by another, and another. Simultaneously, she lurched back, knocking her knee against a cardboard box, upsetting its contents onto the floor.
Pieces of colored glass and assorted small hand tools spilled across the floor. “Damn,” Angie cursed as she knelt down to clean up the mess. Carefully, she picked up and replaced each piece of glass back into the box. After a quick search to make sure that none had eluded her. It was then she noticed the parchment that had rolled between two old suitcases. It was coiled and bound with an old blue silk ribbon. She felt the tiny hairs on her arms prickle and suddenly she couldn't shake off the sense of being watched. Quickly she looked up to see if Riley was looking at her. But her sister was absorbed in trying on old hats that she had found in a large trunk.
Angie shrugged off the sensation and returned her attention back to the parchment. With a gentle tug to the ribbon it came undone and fell to the floor. The scroll in her hands, after perhaps decades of being in the attic, had browned and become brittle, especially along the edges. Slowly she uncoiled it to reveal the original sketch of the stained glass window in the foyer. And written in the bottom corner was 'My Alice, by Sophia Roselli'. Angie was surprised to discover that the beautiful window had been created by her great aunt. Maybe there was more to this stranger than she thought as she retied it and returned it back to the box.
“How do I look?” Riley shouted from across the room.
Angie looked up and found her sister clad in a long old fashioned dress, a large brimmed black hat with plums of feathers, and a very disgusting fur stole. Her sister was such a ridiculous sight that she had to smile. “You look great. That would make a wonderful Halloween costume.”
Riley strutted around. “I feel like a queen.” And she waved her hand very regally like she were acknowledging her devoted subjects.
“That's funny,” Angie said as she walked over and peered into the large old truck. “What else is in here?”
“All kinds of neat stuff.”
The rest of the morning quickly passed as the girls rummaged around in all of the boxes. But Riley's enthusiasm had vanished when they found nothing of great importance. “What did you expect to find? A treasure or something,” Angie asked, as they left the attic and headed down to the kitchen looking for their mother and lunch.
“Maybe,” Riley said sadly.
“You're crazy. That kind of stuff only happens in the movies,” Angie replied as they walked into the kitchen where their mother was preparing sandwiches.
Nicole hadn't seen hide nor hair of her daughters for several hours. “Where have you been?” She asked, looking at their dust covered hands and clothes. “And why the long face, Riley?”
“We've been in the attic,” Riley informed her with her most pathetic voice. “But there's nothing up there. Nothing but old clothes.”
“What did you expect to find, a treasure?”
Angie laughed. “That's exactly what I said.”
Plopping down in a chair at the table, she looked like a unhappy, dusty, little rag doll. “I would have shared it with both of you,” she said miserably.
Weary, Angie sat down on the edge of the bed. Her future at a new school felt scary and it made her stomach knot up and ache. She had a bit of a reprieve because next week was Thanksgiving and her mother had arranged for them to be out of school till after the holiday. Normally she would have been ecstatic about having time off for the holidays. But now it only felt like a dark cloud hanging over her head. Eventually she knew she would have to enter a strange, rinky-dink high school.
A soft knock on her door interrupted her melancholy mood.
“What?”
Her sister opened the door and poked her head into the room. “Friends?” Riley timidly asked while attempting a small smile. “I'm lonely.”
Angie suddenly felt unexpected warm fuzzies for her little sister. This was something she hadn't felt for quite awhile. And her face softened with a smile as she patted a spot on the mattress. “Friends,” she replied.
Riley broke into a large grin, rushed in, and leaped onto the bed. “Mom has been on the phone most of the morning. She told me to unpack my luggage. But the dressers in my room are still full of clothes. I didn't know what to do with them. So I didn't do anything.” She fell back on the mattress with a plop and stared at the ceiling. “It's weird here.”
Angie laid down beside her and joined in the staring of the ceiling. “Yeah. Weird.”
They remained quiet for a few minutes, each lost in the uncertainty of their futures. “Let's go exploring,”Angie finally said.
“Really?” Riley's face breaking into a smile.
“Come on. Before I change my mind,” Angie said hauling herself out of bed.
Riley jumped to the floor and grabbed her sister's hand. “Let's start in mom's room. She told me it is beautiful.”
Down the long hall they raced. The door was open and they peered inside. The room was spacious and sunny thanks to the multi-windowed tower that was adjacent to the master suite. Bright morning light flowed into the room sending shafts of warmth and brightness spilling over a thick oriental rug. And the antique furniture scattered about the room glowed a deep rosy hue.
They entered.
Angie slowly walked around looking but not touching. She stopped at the most impressive piece of furniture in the room, the large four-poster bed. Circling it, she settled herself upon its plump mattress, tucking one foot beneath her. Then she watched with irritation as Riley strolled around opening drawers and peering inside. It was clear that the girl had no qualms about touching other people's stuff, especially dead people's stuff.
“You really shouldn't be doing that,” Angie warned.
“Why not? All this belongs to mom now.”
“I know. But it just doesn't feel right. It's an invasion of privacy.”
“Alright if it will make you happy. I won't poke around anymore,” Riley said while closing the last drawer. She turned and suddenly spied the sitting room in the tower. Within seconds she was hurrying inside. “Wow! Come look at this Angie. It's a staircase.” she said with a bubble of excitement in her voice. Turning and looking back at her sister. “Want to go up and check it out?”
Angie realized how utterly pointless it was to say no, so she hopped off the bed. “Alright.” When she entered the sitting room, she gazed up at the wooden spiral staircase that wound up to the floor above. She noted that her sister was already half-way to the top. “Come on,” Riley said as she continued up and disappeared into the room beyond.
Angie quickly followed and found herself in yet another small circular room. It was empty of any furniture or knick-knacks. But no adornment was needed because it was simply stunning with its 360 degree view of the surrounding countryside. Although the trees had already lost their brilliantly festooned leaves, it only added to the spectacular landscape. Because now they could see for miles and miles in all directions.
Reluctantly, Angie pulled her eyes from the panorama to look around the empty little room. Aside from the staggering view beyond the windows, the only other things of interest were the doomed ceiling, which was painted a deep shade of blue and embellished with a sea of glittering stars. And an exquisite floor, inlaid with a compass rose.
Angie smiled. “This is a dreaming place.” she whispered.
Riley was still looking out the windows when an idea blossomed. “Let's go up to the attic?” she said.
Angie looked up from the floor and gave her sister a frown. “You can just put that idea out of your head.”
“I'll bet there's really great stuff hidden up there.”
“Give it a rest, will ya. I'm not going up there.”
“Why not? Are you afraid that we might see a ghost?” Riley in a low spooky voice. And she wiggled her outstretched fingers at her sister.
“Riley, why do you always have to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“So damn irritating, that's what,” Angie said, while planting her hands on her hips.
“Well, life with you is no picnic either,” Riley said. She hung her head and deliberately wiped at imaginary tears. “I'm sorry. I just thought it would be fun,” she said with pouted lips. She knew her sister was a sucker for this particular ploy.
“Stop it. I know you're not crying. Listen, if you promise not to make a big production out of this. We'll go up to the attic and back, lickety-split. Okay?”
Riley immediately beamed. “Yeah. Up and back as quick as can be.” Practically yanking her sister's arm out of its socket, she hurried to the stairs.
“That hurts. Let go!” Angie demanded as she broke free of her sister's surprisingly strong grasp. And she had to grab the newell post to prevent falling down the stairs. She felt the knob at the top wiggle beneath her fingers. Jeez, she thought to herself, another thing that needs fixed. How was her mother ever going to manage?
Riley hadn't bothered to stop. She practically flew down the stairs and was now waiting at the bottom “Come on, slow poke,” she hollered.
“Where's the fire?” Angie asked, as she wound her way down the stairs. “And how do we get up there? I haven't noticed any stairs.”
“It's this way,” Riley replied while trying to grab hold of her sister's arm again.
“No way,” Angie remarked while pulling her arm out of reach of her sister's death grip. “You lead. I'll follow.
“You're such a girlie-girl,” Riley declared.
Angie stood her ground. “Look. Do you want me to come along or not? I don't need to listen to your sassy mouth. I can find something else to entertain me.”
“I'm sorry,” Riley said, she knew it was way more fun to go exploring with her sister than by herself. “Follow me,” she said as she continued to walk and talk, leading them back through the bedroom and down the hallway. Stopping beside a closed door that was adjacent to the bathroom. “This is it,” she informed, while opening a door into a large walk-in closet. A dozen shelves holding towels and linens lined two walls. She scurried across to the far wall that contained another doorway. “Ta da.”
“This goes up to the attic?” Angie asked, looking at her sister with surprise. “How did you find it?”
“I've just been doing a little poking around on my own,” she answered with a touch of pride. She twisted the knob and they entered a stairwell that was narrow, dim, and cold. They ascended the creaking staircase. When they reached the top, Angie searched for a possible light switch. Eventually she found a string hanging from a forlorn bulb nestled in the rafters. It created only feeble light. But it was enough to reveal a typical attic cloaked in shadows, dust, cobwebs, mysterious boxes, and abandoned ancient suitcases.
Riley hurried ahead, stirring up dust and something else, a faint elusive scent. Angie's nose suddenly filled with a flowery fragrance. How odd, she thought just before she let out a sneeze, followed by another, and another. Simultaneously, she lurched back, knocking her knee against a cardboard box, upsetting its contents onto the floor.
Pieces of colored glass and assorted small hand tools spilled across the floor. “Damn,” Angie cursed as she knelt down to clean up the mess. Carefully, she picked up and replaced each piece of glass back into the box. After a quick search to make sure that none had eluded her. It was then she noticed the parchment that had rolled between two old suitcases. It was coiled and bound with an old blue silk ribbon. She felt the tiny hairs on her arms prickle and suddenly she couldn't shake off the sense of being watched. Quickly she looked up to see if Riley was looking at her. But her sister was absorbed in trying on old hats that she had found in a large trunk.
Angie shrugged off the sensation and returned her attention back to the parchment. With a gentle tug to the ribbon it came undone and fell to the floor. The scroll in her hands, after perhaps decades of being in the attic, had browned and become brittle, especially along the edges. Slowly she uncoiled it to reveal the original sketch of the stained glass window in the foyer. And written in the bottom corner was 'My Alice, by Sophia Roselli'. Angie was surprised to discover that the beautiful window had been created by her great aunt. Maybe there was more to this stranger than she thought as she retied it and returned it back to the box.
“How do I look?” Riley shouted from across the room.
Angie looked up and found her sister clad in a long old fashioned dress, a large brimmed black hat with plums of feathers, and a very disgusting fur stole. Her sister was such a ridiculous sight that she had to smile. “You look great. That would make a wonderful Halloween costume.”
Riley strutted around. “I feel like a queen.” And she waved her hand very regally like she were acknowledging her devoted subjects.
“That's funny,” Angie said as she walked over and peered into the large old truck. “What else is in here?”
“All kinds of neat stuff.”
The rest of the morning quickly passed as the girls rummaged around in all of the boxes. But Riley's enthusiasm had vanished when they found nothing of great importance. “What did you expect to find? A treasure or something,” Angie asked, as they left the attic and headed down to the kitchen looking for their mother and lunch.
“Maybe,” Riley said sadly.
“You're crazy. That kind of stuff only happens in the movies,” Angie replied as they walked into the kitchen where their mother was preparing sandwiches.
Nicole hadn't seen hide nor hair of her daughters for several hours. “Where have you been?” She asked, looking at their dust covered hands and clothes. “And why the long face, Riley?”
“We've been in the attic,” Riley informed her with her most pathetic voice. “But there's nothing up there. Nothing but old clothes.”
“What did you expect to find, a treasure?”
Angie laughed. “That's exactly what I said.”
Plopping down in a chair at the table, she looked like a unhappy, dusty, little rag doll. “I would have shared it with both of you,” she said miserably.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Chapter 3
That night, settling into the strange bed, sleep claimed Angie in a matter of minutes. And so did a peculiar dream: She was rushing through a small meadow in pursuit of something. Somewhere nearby, she could hear the melodic bubbling of a stream. A warm breeze was blowing, for she felt her long hair swirling about her face. Slowing to a walk, she stared awestruck at the abundance of wildflowers in shades of violet, yellow and soft pink spread before her. They swayed in the warm buttery air as she moved through them. And to her amazement, just a few yards ahead, something small and white stopped and waited for her to catchup.
Whump, whump, whump. Angie's dream world shook and she slowly opened one sleepy eye to see her sister with a severe case of bed-head, wearing SpongeBob SquarePants pj's, bouncing up and down on her bed. “Wake up sleepy head,” Riley ordered. “We've got a big house to explore.”
“What's this 'we' crap?” Angie moaned as she rolled on her side. “Ya got a turd in your pocket?”
“Come on Angie. Aren't you the least bit curious?”
“Nope,” she replied as she pulled the covers over her head hoping she could stop the yakking. “Go ask mom to explore with you. Just leave me out of it.”
“Mom is taking a shower.”
Riley sat for a brief moment thinking. “Well, are you coming or not?”
“Not.”
“Fine then. I'll go by myself,” she huffed.
Angie felt her sister push off the bed and listened as her feet padded across the room and out into the hallway. “Good riddance,” she whispered beneath the blanket. But she knew that now that she was awake and her brain was starting to reboot that it was very unlikely that she would fall back to sleep. Instead she threw back the blanket and gazed around the unfamiliar room. She took a sniff, it smelled stuffy and old. It was even worse than being at Nana's house. And the furniture was beyond belief. It was massive and dark.
Bleary eyed she slipped out of bed and wandered over to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes. A blaze of sunlight assaulted her and she moaned softly with pain as she cupped a hand over her eyes. Slowly, her gaze swept across the expanse of gardens at the back of the house. In the distance, a path lead to a small pond that bordered the forest's edge. Although the view was stunning she couldn't help but notice that they hadn't a single neighbor in sight. “This sucks,” she said aloud and she yanked the drapes closed. “This sucks big time,” she said even louder to advertise her displeasure in hopes her mother could hear.
A minute later, she was out the bedroom door. And deliberately stomping down the long hall toward the bathroom. Thirty minutes later she was still fuming when she headed toward the staircase.
The night before she hadn't noticed the stained glass window high above the front door. But now, standing on the second floor balcony, with the morning sunlight flooding through, sending shafts of colors spilling on the floor below ... Angie stopped, and, blinked in astonishment. It was a glorious, glowing, depiction of a young girl, in a bright blue dress, chasing a fat white rabbit across a field of wild flowers. The rabbit was wearing a red vest and a yellow cravat, and was holding a big old-fashioned pocket watch.
“Alice in Wonderland.”
Angie jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. “I know. I'm not stupid.”
Nicole ignored her testiness. “It's a beautiful window, isn't it?”
“I suppose so.”
Nicole leaned over the railing and squinted her eyes. “Does that frame look like it has some wood rot?”
Angie could have cared less. “Where?” she asked unenthusiastically.
“There in the bottom corner.”
Angie huffed a sigh of utter indifference. Then an idea sparked in her mind. Maybe if this place would rot and fall down then they could move back home. With added eagerness she pointed. “Are you talking about the area where the paint is peeling away? And it looks like a little puddle of water on the windowsill.”
“Darn! A leak from last night's storm. I'll have to find a carpenter and get that repaired right away. Remind me to ask Aunt Sophia's attorney if he could recommend someone?”
“Yeah. I'll put that high up on my to do list,” she said, with disappointment.
“Come on, ” Nicole said smiling as she slipped her arm through Angie's. “It sounds like you need some breakfast.” As they walked down the stairs she added, “I couldn't help but notice that the girl in the window has a striking resemblance to you.”
“What!” Angie said, stopping in her tracks.
“I think she looks just like you. Same hair, same face, same eyes.”
“She does not. She looks nothing like me,” Angie said curtly. When she looked up. The young girl in the window seemed to be looking directing at her, smiling. Then she recalled her dream from last night, the meadow of wildflowers, the white rabbit. Everything about it suddenly felt unforgettably tangible. All at once the hairs on the back of her neck rose in some sort of eerie forewarning. She turned and looked at her mother. For sure there was no way she was going to reveal her dream and look like some sort of kook. Nope, it was better to go the safe route. “Mom!” she said stomping one foot. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?”
Nicole looked perplexed. “What? All I said was how much you ....”
“Don't say it again.”
“Good grief Angie. I didn't think that remark would upset you. Okay ... okay. I won't mention it again.”
“Fine,” Angie mumbled back, then quickly descended the remaining stairs alone.
Nicole shook her head in bewilderment, “Go find your sister. I'm going to start breakfast.” she called after her.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Angie replied over her shoulder. But she was totally freaked out by the dream and the uncanny resemblance to the girl in the window. So she was in no state of mind to deal with her inquisitive kid sister. Instead, she veered off from the foyer and found herself in the same room that Riley had hid in the night before.
But this morning, in the bright sunlight, nothing about the room was unsettling. In fact it was quite pleasant with its high coffered ceiling and walls that were finished with a deep mahogany raised-panel wainscoting. To the far side of the room was a black marble fireplace with a beautiful landscaped painting hanging above it. Flanked on both sides of the mantle were two overstuffed leather wing-back chairs, one still protected with a white sheet. Angie walked over and whipped off the remaining cover and balled it up in her arms. She turned and looked at the opposite end of the room where in front of a row of windows sat a large desk hidden beneath another sheet. Angie scowled, on the floor, where Riley had discarded it the night before lay the other sheet.
She walked over to retrieve it and also remove the one covering the desk. Contents of the desk top were now revealed, and she took a few seconds to look over the assorted items. It was the usual things, junk mail, bills, writing paper, and pens. All personal items of a great aunt and uncle she never knew. It made her feel uncomfortable thinking about death and strangers possibly one day touching her own stuff. So, as if to distance herself, she simply poked with one finger at a few small stacks of papers. It was then she spied the small framed photograph. It appeared quite old because it wasn't in color, not even black and white, but varying shades of tans and browns. Angie picked it up to look closer at the man, woman, and young girl smiling in the picture. She didn't recognize them and she doubted if they were her Aunt Sophia and Uncle Tony. As far as she knew, they didn't have any children. 'Need to ask mom more about her great aunt and uncle', she thought to herself as she returned the photo to the desk.
Then she lifted her eyes to the main focal point of the room. It was a massive bookcase that occupied one long wall. On it's shelves sat hundreds of books. And the sight of it sent Angie's heart racing. An avid reader, she smiled at the vast array at her beck and call. And the scent of the leather bound volumes filled her with fond memories of road-trips with Nana to large and small rare book stores throughout California. Those were wonderful exclusive trips with her grandmother, that is until Riley came along. And right from the word go, that little kid did nothing but hog up all the attention.
Angie's stomach rumbled. It was clamoring for food and reminded her that she needed to find her sister. With a sigh, she decided the books would have to wait till later. Stuffing her hands into her jean pockets, she went back out into the foyer and down the hallway. “Riley,” her voice rang out as she popped her head into every room.
Eventually she found her sister in a room that served as the informal living area. She lay sprawled on a plump looking sofa, a glass of something in one hand, and a remote control in the other, looking at a small television. “There's not a thing to watch,” Riley moaned as she took a noisy slurp from her glass and continued flipping through the channels.
“Just one more reason to hate this place,” Angie said while checking out the room. “I thought you were going exploring?”
“I made it this far and my big discovery is that the house has no satellite or cable.”
“What? You better be kidding me, Riley?” But Angie didn't wait for an answer and was already out the door, heading in high speed for the kitchen with Riley following in tow. “Mom!” she bellowed. “Mom!”
Nicole was flipping pancakes and turning sausage links. And trying very hard to ignore the ranting and raving coming her way. Another teenage temper tantrum and she gave a little shudder. “Damn you Jeff for messing up their lives,” she said cursing her ex husband under her breath. With a stiffening of her spine, she braced herself for the assault. “I'm in here.”
Angie burst into the room. “This is totally unacceptable,” she declared, while marching up to where her mother was transferring the pancakes and sausage to a large platter.
“What's wrong?” Nicole asked while deftly balancing the platter, bottle of maple syrup and a small tub of butter. She side-stepped Angie and moved to the table to unload her arms.
“No cable! That's what's wrong,” Angie sputtered as she pivoted around to follow her mother.
“Oh, is that all?” Nicole said with a smile. “Come sit down and have some breakfast.” and she pulled out a chair and patted it's seat. “Where's your sister?”
“Here I am,” chirped Riley as she skipped through the door.
“Just in time. The pancakes are getting cold.”
“Mom? Did you hear me? I said we have no cable,” shouted Angie. “Read my lips. NO CABLE! That means no high-speed Internet. I can't live without my computer.”
“Everything is under control,” Nicole said while loading up Riley's plate. Then watched in amazement as her eight-year-old daughter swooped down attacking her breakfast as if she hadn't eaten for a week. “Slow down or you're going to choke,” she warned, then turned her attention back to Angie. “Someone will be here Monday to take care of everything. Now sit down and eat before your breakfast gets cold.”
Angie still felt like arguing. But the smell of breakfast was too much, so she temporarily gave in to her stomach's demands.
For the next three minutes they sat quietly munching. Angie had just inserted a forkful of food into her mouth when her sister suddenly blurted out, “You look like the girl in the window.”
Angie's appetite took a sudden nose dive, her fork clattered to the table, and she sat opened mouthed with a bit of pancake clinging to her lower lip. “What did you say?” She squawked in disbelief.
“The window in the foyer. You know, the one above the front door,” Riley said while licking syrup from her lips. She lifted her innocent freckled face to her mother. “Is that stained glass?”
The table fell silent for a moment while Nicole shifted uneasily in her chair trying to assess Angie's reaction, which was a look of shock. “Yes, it is dear. But now is not a good time to talk about the window.”
“Why? It sure is pretty. Don't you think it's pretty, Angie? Or do you feel creeped out because you look like the girl? It sure would give me the willies.”
Angie's mouth closed like a trap. Her eyes narrowed and she cast a scathing look in her direction. And with an angry snort she pushed her plate away, leaving her breakfast nearly untouched, and left the kitchen.
“She's a bit of a drama queen,” Riley said, while reaching over and snitching a sausage from her sister's abandoned plate. “What got her panties in a twist?”
“I'm not sure. But it would probably be best if we didn't bring up the window again. Okay?”
“Okay,” Riley mumbled, stuffing the sausage link in her mouth and began chewing with a noisy relish.
Whump, whump, whump. Angie's dream world shook and she slowly opened one sleepy eye to see her sister with a severe case of bed-head, wearing SpongeBob SquarePants pj's, bouncing up and down on her bed. “Wake up sleepy head,” Riley ordered. “We've got a big house to explore.”
“What's this 'we' crap?” Angie moaned as she rolled on her side. “Ya got a turd in your pocket?”
“Come on Angie. Aren't you the least bit curious?”
“Nope,” she replied as she pulled the covers over her head hoping she could stop the yakking. “Go ask mom to explore with you. Just leave me out of it.”
“Mom is taking a shower.”
Riley sat for a brief moment thinking. “Well, are you coming or not?”
“Not.”
“Fine then. I'll go by myself,” she huffed.
Angie felt her sister push off the bed and listened as her feet padded across the room and out into the hallway. “Good riddance,” she whispered beneath the blanket. But she knew that now that she was awake and her brain was starting to reboot that it was very unlikely that she would fall back to sleep. Instead she threw back the blanket and gazed around the unfamiliar room. She took a sniff, it smelled stuffy and old. It was even worse than being at Nana's house. And the furniture was beyond belief. It was massive and dark.
Bleary eyed she slipped out of bed and wandered over to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes. A blaze of sunlight assaulted her and she moaned softly with pain as she cupped a hand over her eyes. Slowly, her gaze swept across the expanse of gardens at the back of the house. In the distance, a path lead to a small pond that bordered the forest's edge. Although the view was stunning she couldn't help but notice that they hadn't a single neighbor in sight. “This sucks,” she said aloud and she yanked the drapes closed. “This sucks big time,” she said even louder to advertise her displeasure in hopes her mother could hear.
A minute later, she was out the bedroom door. And deliberately stomping down the long hall toward the bathroom. Thirty minutes later she was still fuming when she headed toward the staircase.
The night before she hadn't noticed the stained glass window high above the front door. But now, standing on the second floor balcony, with the morning sunlight flooding through, sending shafts of colors spilling on the floor below ... Angie stopped, and, blinked in astonishment. It was a glorious, glowing, depiction of a young girl, in a bright blue dress, chasing a fat white rabbit across a field of wild flowers. The rabbit was wearing a red vest and a yellow cravat, and was holding a big old-fashioned pocket watch.
“Alice in Wonderland.”
Angie jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. “I know. I'm not stupid.”
Nicole ignored her testiness. “It's a beautiful window, isn't it?”
“I suppose so.”
Nicole leaned over the railing and squinted her eyes. “Does that frame look like it has some wood rot?”
Angie could have cared less. “Where?” she asked unenthusiastically.
“There in the bottom corner.”
Angie huffed a sigh of utter indifference. Then an idea sparked in her mind. Maybe if this place would rot and fall down then they could move back home. With added eagerness she pointed. “Are you talking about the area where the paint is peeling away? And it looks like a little puddle of water on the windowsill.”
“Darn! A leak from last night's storm. I'll have to find a carpenter and get that repaired right away. Remind me to ask Aunt Sophia's attorney if he could recommend someone?”
“Yeah. I'll put that high up on my to do list,” she said, with disappointment.
“Come on, ” Nicole said smiling as she slipped her arm through Angie's. “It sounds like you need some breakfast.” As they walked down the stairs she added, “I couldn't help but notice that the girl in the window has a striking resemblance to you.”
“What!” Angie said, stopping in her tracks.
“I think she looks just like you. Same hair, same face, same eyes.”
“She does not. She looks nothing like me,” Angie said curtly. When she looked up. The young girl in the window seemed to be looking directing at her, smiling. Then she recalled her dream from last night, the meadow of wildflowers, the white rabbit. Everything about it suddenly felt unforgettably tangible. All at once the hairs on the back of her neck rose in some sort of eerie forewarning. She turned and looked at her mother. For sure there was no way she was going to reveal her dream and look like some sort of kook. Nope, it was better to go the safe route. “Mom!” she said stomping one foot. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?”
Nicole looked perplexed. “What? All I said was how much you ....”
“Don't say it again.”
“Good grief Angie. I didn't think that remark would upset you. Okay ... okay. I won't mention it again.”
“Fine,” Angie mumbled back, then quickly descended the remaining stairs alone.
Nicole shook her head in bewilderment, “Go find your sister. I'm going to start breakfast.” she called after her.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Angie replied over her shoulder. But she was totally freaked out by the dream and the uncanny resemblance to the girl in the window. So she was in no state of mind to deal with her inquisitive kid sister. Instead, she veered off from the foyer and found herself in the same room that Riley had hid in the night before.
But this morning, in the bright sunlight, nothing about the room was unsettling. In fact it was quite pleasant with its high coffered ceiling and walls that were finished with a deep mahogany raised-panel wainscoting. To the far side of the room was a black marble fireplace with a beautiful landscaped painting hanging above it. Flanked on both sides of the mantle were two overstuffed leather wing-back chairs, one still protected with a white sheet. Angie walked over and whipped off the remaining cover and balled it up in her arms. She turned and looked at the opposite end of the room where in front of a row of windows sat a large desk hidden beneath another sheet. Angie scowled, on the floor, where Riley had discarded it the night before lay the other sheet.
She walked over to retrieve it and also remove the one covering the desk. Contents of the desk top were now revealed, and she took a few seconds to look over the assorted items. It was the usual things, junk mail, bills, writing paper, and pens. All personal items of a great aunt and uncle she never knew. It made her feel uncomfortable thinking about death and strangers possibly one day touching her own stuff. So, as if to distance herself, she simply poked with one finger at a few small stacks of papers. It was then she spied the small framed photograph. It appeared quite old because it wasn't in color, not even black and white, but varying shades of tans and browns. Angie picked it up to look closer at the man, woman, and young girl smiling in the picture. She didn't recognize them and she doubted if they were her Aunt Sophia and Uncle Tony. As far as she knew, they didn't have any children. 'Need to ask mom more about her great aunt and uncle', she thought to herself as she returned the photo to the desk.
Then she lifted her eyes to the main focal point of the room. It was a massive bookcase that occupied one long wall. On it's shelves sat hundreds of books. And the sight of it sent Angie's heart racing. An avid reader, she smiled at the vast array at her beck and call. And the scent of the leather bound volumes filled her with fond memories of road-trips with Nana to large and small rare book stores throughout California. Those were wonderful exclusive trips with her grandmother, that is until Riley came along. And right from the word go, that little kid did nothing but hog up all the attention.
Angie's stomach rumbled. It was clamoring for food and reminded her that she needed to find her sister. With a sigh, she decided the books would have to wait till later. Stuffing her hands into her jean pockets, she went back out into the foyer and down the hallway. “Riley,” her voice rang out as she popped her head into every room.
Eventually she found her sister in a room that served as the informal living area. She lay sprawled on a plump looking sofa, a glass of something in one hand, and a remote control in the other, looking at a small television. “There's not a thing to watch,” Riley moaned as she took a noisy slurp from her glass and continued flipping through the channels.
“Just one more reason to hate this place,” Angie said while checking out the room. “I thought you were going exploring?”
“I made it this far and my big discovery is that the house has no satellite or cable.”
“What? You better be kidding me, Riley?” But Angie didn't wait for an answer and was already out the door, heading in high speed for the kitchen with Riley following in tow. “Mom!” she bellowed. “Mom!”
Nicole was flipping pancakes and turning sausage links. And trying very hard to ignore the ranting and raving coming her way. Another teenage temper tantrum and she gave a little shudder. “Damn you Jeff for messing up their lives,” she said cursing her ex husband under her breath. With a stiffening of her spine, she braced herself for the assault. “I'm in here.”
Angie burst into the room. “This is totally unacceptable,” she declared, while marching up to where her mother was transferring the pancakes and sausage to a large platter.
“What's wrong?” Nicole asked while deftly balancing the platter, bottle of maple syrup and a small tub of butter. She side-stepped Angie and moved to the table to unload her arms.
“No cable! That's what's wrong,” Angie sputtered as she pivoted around to follow her mother.
“Oh, is that all?” Nicole said with a smile. “Come sit down and have some breakfast.” and she pulled out a chair and patted it's seat. “Where's your sister?”
“Here I am,” chirped Riley as she skipped through the door.
“Just in time. The pancakes are getting cold.”
“Mom? Did you hear me? I said we have no cable,” shouted Angie. “Read my lips. NO CABLE! That means no high-speed Internet. I can't live without my computer.”
“Everything is under control,” Nicole said while loading up Riley's plate. Then watched in amazement as her eight-year-old daughter swooped down attacking her breakfast as if she hadn't eaten for a week. “Slow down or you're going to choke,” she warned, then turned her attention back to Angie. “Someone will be here Monday to take care of everything. Now sit down and eat before your breakfast gets cold.”
Angie still felt like arguing. But the smell of breakfast was too much, so she temporarily gave in to her stomach's demands.
For the next three minutes they sat quietly munching. Angie had just inserted a forkful of food into her mouth when her sister suddenly blurted out, “You look like the girl in the window.”
Angie's appetite took a sudden nose dive, her fork clattered to the table, and she sat opened mouthed with a bit of pancake clinging to her lower lip. “What did you say?” She squawked in disbelief.
“The window in the foyer. You know, the one above the front door,” Riley said while licking syrup from her lips. She lifted her innocent freckled face to her mother. “Is that stained glass?”
The table fell silent for a moment while Nicole shifted uneasily in her chair trying to assess Angie's reaction, which was a look of shock. “Yes, it is dear. But now is not a good time to talk about the window.”
“Why? It sure is pretty. Don't you think it's pretty, Angie? Or do you feel creeped out because you look like the girl? It sure would give me the willies.”
Angie's mouth closed like a trap. Her eyes narrowed and she cast a scathing look in her direction. And with an angry snort she pushed her plate away, leaving her breakfast nearly untouched, and left the kitchen.
“She's a bit of a drama queen,” Riley said, while reaching over and snitching a sausage from her sister's abandoned plate. “What got her panties in a twist?”
“I'm not sure. But it would probably be best if we didn't bring up the window again. Okay?”
“Okay,” Riley mumbled, stuffing the sausage link in her mouth and began chewing with a noisy relish.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Chapter 2
With the advancing storm and the approach of twilight. The waning illumination cast a sinister and menacing spell upon the forest with its shadowy darkness encroaching on both sides of the long winding driveway. Angie's eyes tried to adapt to the diminishing evening light as she peered into the thickly clustered pines. “I hate this place already,” she muttered under her breath.
Pretending not to have heard, Nicole announced, “We're almost there.”
As they rounded the last curve, tucked in amongst old towering trees, sat a grand Victorian. It had a multi-gabled roof, three-story tower that stretched skyward, and a wrap around porch adorned with intricate scroll work.
“Home sweet home,” Nicole said, craning her neck, taking in the two dozen windows that lined the front of the house. “So what do you think?”
“It's awesome!' breathed Riley.
“Jeez! Is this it? It gives me the creeps,” Angie immediately declared.
“Nonsense,” Nicole said with a laugh as she slowed the van to a stop in front of a detached garage. “Victorian houses get a bad rap from cheesy horror flicks. According to them, they are all magnets for major ghost infestation.
“Ghosts! Did you say ghosts? Riley said, while staring up at the house and hopefully imagining a possible close encounter. “That would be so cool.”
“Get real,” Angie said with a groan. “There is no such thing.”
“A lot you know. Nana told me they exist. And she should know, she reads about sightings all the time.”
“I hate to break it to you. But reading the National Blabber is not a reliable source of information. Nana says and does crazy things sometimes. And if you continue to believe everything she utters. You're going to end up loopy just like her. I'm just hoping the craziness isn't genetic.”
That remark did not sit well with Riley and her green eyes grew stormy. “Nana is not loopy! Mom, are you going to let Angie bad-mouth your own mother like that?”
“What can I say? I love her dearly but she can sometimes be nuttier than a fruitcake. Did I ever tell you about the summer we went to the UFO convention in Roswell?”
“Not again,”groaned Angie. “We've only heard that story, like a zillion times.”
The late afternoon sky had turned a gunmetal gray and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.
Nicole eyed the quickly advancing storm, “Come on girls. We'd better get a move on and get the van unloaded before it starts raining. Riley you carry the lighter things, Angie and I will get the rest.”
Ten minutes later, surrounded by their luggage, they stood looking around at the wide front porch that swept around two sides of the house. It showcased antique wicker furniture and an old fashioned porch swing. The rain that had been threatening finally swept over the land and the first drops pelted the porch roof.
“Well, that was certainly good timing,” Nicole said a bit breathless.
The wind suddenly intensified sending fallen leaves swirling through the air. Overhead, lightning forked across the sky in a dazzling burst, followed by a violent thunderclap. Angie involuntarily shrank closer to her mother just as another brilliant arc of lightning lit up the interior of the low-hanging clouds.
Riley zeroed in on her sister's insecurity and she snorted a laugh. “It's going to be a dark and stormy night. Perfect conditions for ghosts.”
“Quit acting like a total butt hole,” Angie replied while giving her the evil eye.
From the shelter of the porch, they watched as the rain quickly formed into a cloudburst. “Let's get inside,” Nicole said.
While she rummaged around in her purse for the house keys. Riley's curiosity had reached its limit. She scurried across the porch to the nearest window, wiped off a layer of accumulated grime, and pressed her nose to the glass. Beyond, she could see furniture draped with protective sheets. The gloomy interior made them appear like ghostly apparitions.
A jingle of keys brought her attention back to her mother. She had just opened the front door into an unlit foyer. “Give me a second while I turn on the lights. I don't want you two fumbling around in the dark,” Nicole muttered over her shoulder.
But with the storm escalating, the girls were sticking to her like chewing gum on the bottom of a shoe, and they stumbled and jostled over the threshold.
Their eyes peered around in the foreboding darkness. Waiting almost breathless as their mother searched for the switch. “Ah... found it,” she said, and a pool of light instantly bathed the large foyer with brightness.
“Holy ... s-s-shit!” Riley stammered while looking around.
“Riley!” Nicole exclaimed. But she turned her aggravated eyes upon Angie.
“What? She didn't hear it from me,” she said and lifted her shoulders in an innocent shrug.
“Ka...ching, ” Riley interrupted, as though she hadn't heard a word her mother had said. “Why didn't you tell us we had a rich relative? I mean, look at this place. It's super awesome!”
Standing within a circle of glorious multi-hued colors that reflected off the highly polished parquet floor. Three pair of feet did a slow turn around, their eyes taking in the opulent foyer. Two stories above their heads was a faux painted ceiling of blue sky and white billowing clouds. A massive stained glass chandelier that hung by a long bronze chain, illuminated a lavishly carved dark mahogany staircase.
Despite Angie's well crafted attitude of teenage indifference, she stared slack-jawed. “Holy ... shit!” she softly said beneath her breath.
Nicole broke the moment, addressing her daughters, “We'd better carry all the luggage in before it gets wet. And I suppose, for now,” she said looking around the foyer. “It can sit over there,” pointing beside a silent grandfather clock, whose pendulum hung motionless, its hands frozen in place.
Within minutes, they had all their luggage haphazardly stacked inside.
“Now what? What are we to do?” Angie asked as though already bored.
Nicole looked down the long dim corridor. “Whatever you want. This is your home now,” she replied while looking longingly down the hallway. “Listen, I don't know about you two, but I need to scout up the bathroom. Anyone else coming?”
“I'm fine,” Angie replied.
“Me, too,” added Riley, even though her bladder felt like it was about to burst. At this point, there was no holding back her eagerness to explore. Like a girl on a mission, her feet were already traveling toward the closest room. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she vanished within its darkness.
Angie remained in the foyer, watching as her mother quickly retreated. She was now alone and her eyes anxiously shot back and forth searching the shadowy niches and darkened rooms as if a ghost might suddenly pop out of the woodwork. The raging storm had her on edge as she jumped at every thunderclap, every flash of lightning. Her palms had broken into a cold sweat and she wiped them across her jeans. “This is silly,” she muttered to herself. But she couldn't control the nervous little laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. She looked around at her alien surroundings. “This house is not home.”
Just as she was about to go in search of her mother, something registered in her peripheral vision, for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a vague misty form on the stairs. Must have been a trick of the light for when she turned to look, nothing was there. Nevertheless, the incident gave her a bad case of heebie-jeebies and sent goose bumps scurrying up and down her arms.
“Riley?” she called fearfully. Quickly turning, she walked in the direction where she had last seen her sister disappear.
As she entered the dark room, for a millisecond, a brilliant flash of lightning back lit an eerie spectral white shape standing in front of the window. Thunder boomed outside followed by the rattling of windows.
Angie stood staring, immobile. “Riley?” she repeated in an anxious whisper.
A soft moan drifted in the darkness.
Angie's heart gave a lurch followed by a loud blood curdling scream. The next few minutes were wrought with havoc as Nicole, interrupted in the bathroom, ran and stumbled down the hallway while struggling to pull up her pants. And inside the dark room, beneath the white sheet, a small figure snorted with amusement..
“What's wrong?” Nicole demanded as she rushed into the room and frantically searched for the light switch.
The illumination revealed the prankster, bent over, shaking with laughter, throwing off her ghostly shroud.
Angie stood transfixed, appearing as if she might faint. Her unblinking eyes were wide as dollars and the color had drained from her face. The realization of her sister's prank was seeping through. As she recovered her wits, her face transformed into an expression akin to murder. “Riley ... I'm going to ...”
“Stop!” Nicole bellowed. “The two of you nearly scared me to death.”
“I didn't do anything,” Angie corrected while pointing an accusing finger at her sister. “It's that walking, talking, little trouble maker,” she sputtered with rage.
Deep frown lines spread across Nicole's forehead. “Riley. I can't believe you would deliberately frighten your sister like that.”
“I wasn't frightened,” Angie quickly pointed out and punctuated the sentence by flashing her sister an intimidating stare full of daggers.
“Ha! You should have seen your face,” Riley said with a giggle. “You really thought I was a ghost. I'm surprised you didn't pee your pants.”
Riley had opened her mouth to speak again but Nicole held up a halting hand. “I want you to apologize.”
“I'm sorry, mom. But really, I couldn't help myself. The opportunity was too perfect, the storm, the sheets, and scaredy-cat Angie.”
“Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your sister,” Nicole said while tapping her foot impatiently.
An impish grin crossed Riley's face. “Angie . ..” she stammered, while kicking at the crumpled sheet discarded at her feet. “I'm sorry ... that you're afraid of ghosts.”
Nicole threw up her hands in disgust. “I give up,” she groaned, then turned and marched out of the room.
“Now see what you've done,” Angie scolded. “Mom already has plenty on her mind. She doesn't need you acting all kinds of crazy.”
“You have room to talk. When all you do is complain, complain, complain.”
Angie brushed past her sister and entered the pool of light in the foyer. Glancing, first down the dim hallway, and then up the staircase.
Riley followed in her wake. “Which way did she go?”
“How should I know? This house is huge and too freaking dark. Come on,” Angie instructed, as she took hold of her sister's arm. “We're going to turn on every single light we can lay our hands on.”
Stepping through one room after another, they flicked on lamps revealing elegantly decorated rooms. And each time, Riley remarked with, “Wow! Look at all this fantastic stuff.”
After the third 'Wow! Look at all this fantastic stuff'' remark. Angie stared at her as if she just sprouted another head. “Are you mental? Someone has to dust all this crap. And that someone is going to be us,” she said as her eyes flitted over the curiosities and treasures. “This place is like a museum. If mom thinks I'm going to help keep all this clean, she better plan on upping my allowance big time.”
The sisters fell into step together as they continued down the hallway. After a full thirty seconds of silence, which had to be a record for Riley, she asked, “Why do you think Great Aunt Sophia left all of this to mom? After all, she barely knew her.”
“Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Maybe when mom sees the attorney, he will have an explanation.”
At last they came upon the kitchen where an old fashioned, coiled, fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling was emitting a very annoying hum. Its harsh glare revealed a spacious but extremely outdated room. Antiquated appliances that had been state of the art in the early fifties, sat on checkerboard black and white vinyl tiles that were yellow and cracked with age.
“Mom, where are you?” Angie said from the doorway, her eyes searching the room. “Mom?”
From a small walk-in pantry, set off from the kitchen, came a muffled voice. “I'm in here, girls.”
“Mom, we're sorry,” Angie said, as she steered her sister deeper into the kitchen, while simultaneously giving her a quick prodding poke in the ribs.
What?” Riley asked clueless.
“Tell mom how sorry we are.”
“Oh yeah. We're really, really sorry.”
Nicole stepped out of the pantry with an assortment of canned goods supplied by her Aunt Sophia's diligent attorney. “Yes I know how sorry you are. Until the next opportunity to be at each other's throats.” With a clatter she set the cans down upon the ceramic tiled counter. “Let's get something to eat. I'm wiped out and ready to call it a day. We can decide which bedrooms you want and then we all can get a good night rest,” she said as she unsuccessfully stifled a yawn.
Pretending not to have heard, Nicole announced, “We're almost there.”
As they rounded the last curve, tucked in amongst old towering trees, sat a grand Victorian. It had a multi-gabled roof, three-story tower that stretched skyward, and a wrap around porch adorned with intricate scroll work.
“Home sweet home,” Nicole said, craning her neck, taking in the two dozen windows that lined the front of the house. “So what do you think?”
“It's awesome!' breathed Riley.
“Jeez! Is this it? It gives me the creeps,” Angie immediately declared.
“Nonsense,” Nicole said with a laugh as she slowed the van to a stop in front of a detached garage. “Victorian houses get a bad rap from cheesy horror flicks. According to them, they are all magnets for major ghost infestation.
“Ghosts! Did you say ghosts? Riley said, while staring up at the house and hopefully imagining a possible close encounter. “That would be so cool.”
“Get real,” Angie said with a groan. “There is no such thing.”
“A lot you know. Nana told me they exist. And she should know, she reads about sightings all the time.”
“I hate to break it to you. But reading the National Blabber is not a reliable source of information. Nana says and does crazy things sometimes. And if you continue to believe everything she utters. You're going to end up loopy just like her. I'm just hoping the craziness isn't genetic.”
That remark did not sit well with Riley and her green eyes grew stormy. “Nana is not loopy! Mom, are you going to let Angie bad-mouth your own mother like that?”
“What can I say? I love her dearly but she can sometimes be nuttier than a fruitcake. Did I ever tell you about the summer we went to the UFO convention in Roswell?”
“Not again,”groaned Angie. “We've only heard that story, like a zillion times.”
The late afternoon sky had turned a gunmetal gray and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.
Nicole eyed the quickly advancing storm, “Come on girls. We'd better get a move on and get the van unloaded before it starts raining. Riley you carry the lighter things, Angie and I will get the rest.”
Ten minutes later, surrounded by their luggage, they stood looking around at the wide front porch that swept around two sides of the house. It showcased antique wicker furniture and an old fashioned porch swing. The rain that had been threatening finally swept over the land and the first drops pelted the porch roof.
“Well, that was certainly good timing,” Nicole said a bit breathless.
The wind suddenly intensified sending fallen leaves swirling through the air. Overhead, lightning forked across the sky in a dazzling burst, followed by a violent thunderclap. Angie involuntarily shrank closer to her mother just as another brilliant arc of lightning lit up the interior of the low-hanging clouds.
Riley zeroed in on her sister's insecurity and she snorted a laugh. “It's going to be a dark and stormy night. Perfect conditions for ghosts.”
“Quit acting like a total butt hole,” Angie replied while giving her the evil eye.
From the shelter of the porch, they watched as the rain quickly formed into a cloudburst. “Let's get inside,” Nicole said.
While she rummaged around in her purse for the house keys. Riley's curiosity had reached its limit. She scurried across the porch to the nearest window, wiped off a layer of accumulated grime, and pressed her nose to the glass. Beyond, she could see furniture draped with protective sheets. The gloomy interior made them appear like ghostly apparitions.
A jingle of keys brought her attention back to her mother. She had just opened the front door into an unlit foyer. “Give me a second while I turn on the lights. I don't want you two fumbling around in the dark,” Nicole muttered over her shoulder.
But with the storm escalating, the girls were sticking to her like chewing gum on the bottom of a shoe, and they stumbled and jostled over the threshold.
Their eyes peered around in the foreboding darkness. Waiting almost breathless as their mother searched for the switch. “Ah... found it,” she said, and a pool of light instantly bathed the large foyer with brightness.
“Holy ... s-s-shit!” Riley stammered while looking around.
“Riley!” Nicole exclaimed. But she turned her aggravated eyes upon Angie.
“What? She didn't hear it from me,” she said and lifted her shoulders in an innocent shrug.
“Ka...ching, ” Riley interrupted, as though she hadn't heard a word her mother had said. “Why didn't you tell us we had a rich relative? I mean, look at this place. It's super awesome!”
Standing within a circle of glorious multi-hued colors that reflected off the highly polished parquet floor. Three pair of feet did a slow turn around, their eyes taking in the opulent foyer. Two stories above their heads was a faux painted ceiling of blue sky and white billowing clouds. A massive stained glass chandelier that hung by a long bronze chain, illuminated a lavishly carved dark mahogany staircase.
Despite Angie's well crafted attitude of teenage indifference, she stared slack-jawed. “Holy ... shit!” she softly said beneath her breath.
Nicole broke the moment, addressing her daughters, “We'd better carry all the luggage in before it gets wet. And I suppose, for now,” she said looking around the foyer. “It can sit over there,” pointing beside a silent grandfather clock, whose pendulum hung motionless, its hands frozen in place.
Within minutes, they had all their luggage haphazardly stacked inside.
“Now what? What are we to do?” Angie asked as though already bored.
Nicole looked down the long dim corridor. “Whatever you want. This is your home now,” she replied while looking longingly down the hallway. “Listen, I don't know about you two, but I need to scout up the bathroom. Anyone else coming?”
“I'm fine,” Angie replied.
“Me, too,” added Riley, even though her bladder felt like it was about to burst. At this point, there was no holding back her eagerness to explore. Like a girl on a mission, her feet were already traveling toward the closest room. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she vanished within its darkness.
Angie remained in the foyer, watching as her mother quickly retreated. She was now alone and her eyes anxiously shot back and forth searching the shadowy niches and darkened rooms as if a ghost might suddenly pop out of the woodwork. The raging storm had her on edge as she jumped at every thunderclap, every flash of lightning. Her palms had broken into a cold sweat and she wiped them across her jeans. “This is silly,” she muttered to herself. But she couldn't control the nervous little laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. She looked around at her alien surroundings. “This house is not home.”
Just as she was about to go in search of her mother, something registered in her peripheral vision, for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a vague misty form on the stairs. Must have been a trick of the light for when she turned to look, nothing was there. Nevertheless, the incident gave her a bad case of heebie-jeebies and sent goose bumps scurrying up and down her arms.
“Riley?” she called fearfully. Quickly turning, she walked in the direction where she had last seen her sister disappear.
As she entered the dark room, for a millisecond, a brilliant flash of lightning back lit an eerie spectral white shape standing in front of the window. Thunder boomed outside followed by the rattling of windows.
Angie stood staring, immobile. “Riley?” she repeated in an anxious whisper.
A soft moan drifted in the darkness.
Angie's heart gave a lurch followed by a loud blood curdling scream. The next few minutes were wrought with havoc as Nicole, interrupted in the bathroom, ran and stumbled down the hallway while struggling to pull up her pants. And inside the dark room, beneath the white sheet, a small figure snorted with amusement..
“What's wrong?” Nicole demanded as she rushed into the room and frantically searched for the light switch.
The illumination revealed the prankster, bent over, shaking with laughter, throwing off her ghostly shroud.
Angie stood transfixed, appearing as if she might faint. Her unblinking eyes were wide as dollars and the color had drained from her face. The realization of her sister's prank was seeping through. As she recovered her wits, her face transformed into an expression akin to murder. “Riley ... I'm going to ...”
“Stop!” Nicole bellowed. “The two of you nearly scared me to death.”
“I didn't do anything,” Angie corrected while pointing an accusing finger at her sister. “It's that walking, talking, little trouble maker,” she sputtered with rage.
Deep frown lines spread across Nicole's forehead. “Riley. I can't believe you would deliberately frighten your sister like that.”
“I wasn't frightened,” Angie quickly pointed out and punctuated the sentence by flashing her sister an intimidating stare full of daggers.
“Ha! You should have seen your face,” Riley said with a giggle. “You really thought I was a ghost. I'm surprised you didn't pee your pants.”
Riley had opened her mouth to speak again but Nicole held up a halting hand. “I want you to apologize.”
“I'm sorry, mom. But really, I couldn't help myself. The opportunity was too perfect, the storm, the sheets, and scaredy-cat Angie.”
“Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your sister,” Nicole said while tapping her foot impatiently.
An impish grin crossed Riley's face. “Angie . ..” she stammered, while kicking at the crumpled sheet discarded at her feet. “I'm sorry ... that you're afraid of ghosts.”
Nicole threw up her hands in disgust. “I give up,” she groaned, then turned and marched out of the room.
“Now see what you've done,” Angie scolded. “Mom already has plenty on her mind. She doesn't need you acting all kinds of crazy.”
“You have room to talk. When all you do is complain, complain, complain.”
Angie brushed past her sister and entered the pool of light in the foyer. Glancing, first down the dim hallway, and then up the staircase.
Riley followed in her wake. “Which way did she go?”
“How should I know? This house is huge and too freaking dark. Come on,” Angie instructed, as she took hold of her sister's arm. “We're going to turn on every single light we can lay our hands on.”
Stepping through one room after another, they flicked on lamps revealing elegantly decorated rooms. And each time, Riley remarked with, “Wow! Look at all this fantastic stuff.”
After the third 'Wow! Look at all this fantastic stuff'' remark. Angie stared at her as if she just sprouted another head. “Are you mental? Someone has to dust all this crap. And that someone is going to be us,” she said as her eyes flitted over the curiosities and treasures. “This place is like a museum. If mom thinks I'm going to help keep all this clean, she better plan on upping my allowance big time.”
The sisters fell into step together as they continued down the hallway. After a full thirty seconds of silence, which had to be a record for Riley, she asked, “Why do you think Great Aunt Sophia left all of this to mom? After all, she barely knew her.”
“Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Maybe when mom sees the attorney, he will have an explanation.”
At last they came upon the kitchen where an old fashioned, coiled, fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling was emitting a very annoying hum. Its harsh glare revealed a spacious but extremely outdated room. Antiquated appliances that had been state of the art in the early fifties, sat on checkerboard black and white vinyl tiles that were yellow and cracked with age.
“Mom, where are you?” Angie said from the doorway, her eyes searching the room. “Mom?”
From a small walk-in pantry, set off from the kitchen, came a muffled voice. “I'm in here, girls.”
“Mom, we're sorry,” Angie said, as she steered her sister deeper into the kitchen, while simultaneously giving her a quick prodding poke in the ribs.
What?” Riley asked clueless.
“Tell mom how sorry we are.”
“Oh yeah. We're really, really sorry.”
Nicole stepped out of the pantry with an assortment of canned goods supplied by her Aunt Sophia's diligent attorney. “Yes I know how sorry you are. Until the next opportunity to be at each other's throats.” With a clatter she set the cans down upon the ceramic tiled counter. “Let's get something to eat. I'm wiped out and ready to call it a day. We can decide which bedrooms you want and then we all can get a good night rest,” she said as she unsuccessfully stifled a yawn.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Chapter 1
Six months later ...
The sickening sweet smell of grape pixie-stixs had permanently embedded itself into every nook and cranny of the minivan. It hovered in the air like an alien spore waiting to take root. Fourteen year old Angie Miller grabbed her hair and took a sniff. “I think I'm going to barf,” she said, struggling to hold back an urge to gag. Then she cast a quick glance at the object of her disdain.
Her younger sister, Riley, oblivious to her sister's repulsion, sat in a self-induced sugar nirvana. She was tethered to her GameBoy. And at the moment had stopped playing long enough to franticly search her backpack for another candy hit. A few seconds later she withdrew grubby little fingers clutching two paper straws. Angie watched in amazement as her sister in one quick motion, raised them to her mouth, ripped off their ends with her teeth, spat out the paper, threw her head back, letting the contents ....
Thump ... thump. A spray of sugar cascaded down Riley's chin, her pink sweater, and landed like purple snow upon the Gameboy.
“Sorry about that,” came a voice from the front seat. “That pothole came out of nowhere.”
A giggle erupted from Riley. “Wow! Did you see how that candy sprayed all over the place?”
Angie glanced toward her sister, feeling a mixture of irritation and impatience. “Mo-om!” she moaned. “It's disgusting enough back here. But now there is a sticky sugar mess everywhere.”
“Please quit complaining. I have my hands full at the moment. You're the big sister. Just get some hand wipes from my purse and help get things cleaned up. And you, Riley, I already told you no more candy.”
Leaning forward, Angie grabbed the handbag from the front passenger seat, rummaging through the contents till she withdrew three packets of moist towelettes.
She aimlessly tossed them to her sister, striking her on various locations on her forehead.
“You nearly put my eye out with those things,” barked Riley with a tongue that had been permanently dyed an interesting shade of magenta.
“They didn't come anywhere near close to your eyes.”
“Did to!” Riley retorted hotly.
“Did not!”
A long sigh of annoyance hissed from the front seat followed by some barely audible mumbled words of profanity.
Undeterred, Riley silently mouthed, “Did to,” then began licking off her keypad.
“That's so gross. There's germs all over that thing,” Angie said, peering over her shoulder.
“So what,” snapped Riley, “They're my germs.”
“Whatever,” Angie said while making a deliberate effort to roll her eyes. Even though her mother said it was an annoying teenage practice and she didn't want her daughter doing it again.
And all the while, she continued to search through her mother's handbag. At length her fingers landed upon the cell phone. Smiling with satisfaction she settled back in her seat. With the phone camouflaged within the pages of the latest issue of a mindless fashion magazine, she began sending a text message.
So for the next five minutes, the sisters played an irritating game of hide-and-seek. With Angie frantically trying to conceal the contents of the messages to her friends, letting them know how much her life sucked, and how much she wanted to return home. And her sister's prying eyes trying to read every juicy morsel.
Angie had reached her breaking point. “Stop it!” She shouted.
“What? I just wanted to see if you're sending mushy stuff to your boyfriend. Tsk, tsk. You do know that it's against the law to send smut through the airways?” Riley said with all the authority an eight year old girl could muster.
“Who are you? The phone police.”
“Hey! This girl's got to look out for own best interests,” Riley said as she raised a thumb and pointed it to her chest. “The way I see it. The phone is in mom's name. The phone company could be using spyware, searching for perverts hitting on kids. Mom could land in jail serving time for a crime she didn't commit. And we would end up living with dad and his new girlfriend. I don't want that, do you?”
“You're such a dork,” Angie muttered under her breath. But for once she agreed with Riley, the last thing she wanted was to live with their dad. She would never forgive him for betraying their mother. Staring dejectedly out the window, she wondered why his vow of everlasting love lasted only 15 years? Does love have an expiration date? So many of her friends have divorced parents and she had listened to their horror stories. Hearing about it was one thing, experiencing it firsthand was something else. Now she was certain that there are no happy ever afters.
“Girls, that's enough! You're driving me insane!” came the stern voice from behind the steering wheel of the minivan breaking into Angie's thoughts.
Nicole Miller raised her green eyes and looked into the rear view mirror at her fair-skinned, red-haired daughters. Angie, the rebellious teenager, had her curly hair tamed into a very becoming French braid. While Riley, with her impish smile and equally mischievous sense of of humor, had chosen the more carefree look of not even bothering to run a comb through her hair. The consequence was a mass of unruly ringlets haloing an angelic freckled face. “You've been at each other's throats for the entire week. I know this trip has been long and grueling. But please give me a break,” she said as she shifted in her seat, trying to work a kink from her spine. “I'm bone-tired, my back hurts, and my butt is numb. And if I have to listen to you bicker one more minute. I'm going to .....”
“What?” asked Angie. “Are you going to turn this van around and take us back home to California? Cause if you are, I'm going to call dad and have him fly me back. There's no way in h.... ,” she said sputtering and and then stopping in mid-sentence. “I mean there's no way I'm going to travel another gazillion miles in this car.” And for a dramatic effect she waved the phone in the air above her head but only resulted in rapping her knuckles against the roof of the van.
“Let's not start this again! We're not going back. I've been over this a million times. Inheriting this house is the best thing that could have happened. It gives us all a chance at a new beginning.”
“I don't need a new beginning. And certainly not in some little hick town,” huffed Angie, and folded her arms over her chest. “I was fine where I was, with my friends.”
Nicole did her best to form a sympathetic look. “Honey, just think of this as a great adventure. Now please turn off the phone and save the batteries. It will soon be dark and I have a feeling that it's going to rain. I need you girls to help me find a road sign. Or a mailbox with an address. ”
“What? Are we lost? I thought you said you've been here before.”
“I was five years old. It was the first and only time. But rest assured, we're not lost,” she said, patting the directions that the lawyer had mailed to her.
With a look of disappointment etched on Angie's face, she slumped deeper into her seat. “If we're not lost, how come we've passed that same rusty mailbox, at least three times?” she questioned, as her eyes glazed over, staring out at the passing rural Pennsylvania landscape of trees zipping past her window. Barren, bleak trees that seemed to go on forever into the great unknown. A quick glance at her new Seiko watch, one of many departing gifts of guilt from her father, confirmed her suspicions. It had been fifteen long minutes since she had last seen anything that even resembled civilization. But she rather doubted that the pathetic rundown gas station that sold live bait and fresh apple cider counted. So for the hundredth time today Angie silently cursed her dad. If he hadn't divorced her mom, she wouldn't have been uprooted from everything that mattered. “I don't understand why I have to pay the price for dad's mid-life crisis?”
“You sure whine a lot. Do you have PMS?” Riley unwisely diagnosed. “That would explain your moody funk and bloated condition. And is that a zit on your forehead?”
Angie cast her bratty kid sister a lethal glare.
But Riley chose to ignore her sister's forewarning that she was skating on thin ice and continued, “I totally agree with mom. This is a great adventure.”
“You're a total ass kisser,” Angie whispered, while she slowly drew her index finger across her throat.
“Mom! Angie just called me an ass kisser. And there was a definite silent threat to slash my throat.”
Nicole raised her eyes to the mirror once again and gave her eldest daughter a look of warning. “Watch the language, Angie. And there will be no maiming of your sister.”
“Whatever,” Angie softly moaned.
“Ahh ... yes. If my memory serves me,” Nicole said with a voice that held promised encouragement. She slowed the van to a stop along side of an enormous gate. At last they had arrived at their destination. And in one synchronized motion three bodies twisted around in their seats, three heads swiveled, and three faces gazed upon a twelve foot tall fence constructed of ornate ink-black ironwork.
Riley let out an excited gasp. “Holy cow! Is this it?”
“I forgot about the fence,” said Nicole with a laugh while shoving the transmission into park.
“You've got to be kidding me?” Angie questioned, while she stared in sheer repulsion at the iron monstrosity. “A fence is pretty and white. This is something out of Jurassic Park?”
Rummaging deep inside of her purse Nicole fished out a set of keys. “Wait here while I ...”
But before she could finish Riley was already hopping out. Released from the confines of the van, she stretched like a lazy cat, and through a loud yawn she asked, “Are you coming, Angie?”
“No! I think you and mom can manage quite well without my help.”
“Suit yourself,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, sending a little cloud of grape sugar candy floating down from her sweater. Undeterred by her sister's lack of curiosity, she scurried off, her pink Sketchers crunching atop the gravel driveway. Rounding the van, she skidded to a stop just as her mother opened her door and stepped down.
“You're not excited are you?” Nicole asked with a smile, as she too stretched and then massaged the dull ache in her lower back.
“Well ... to tell you the truth. I'm a bit scared. Daddy isn't here to take care of us,” she confessed, while reaching for her mother's hand.
Nicole knelt down, “Honey,” she said while taking holding of Riley's face in a loving caress and looking deep into her trusting eyes. “You have every reason to be concerned. But I promise I will do everything in my power to protect you and your sister. Let's give this new life a try for one year. And after that, if you and Angie are still unhappy, well then, we'll just sell the house and move back to California. Is it a deal?”
“It's a deal.” Riley replied and squeazed her mother's hand as an affirmation of an oath.
Leaning forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, “Mom?”
“Yes, dear.”
“You won't tell Angie what I said, will you? If she knows that I'm scared, she'll call me a baby.”
“It's our little secret,” her mother promised, then gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
Riley turned her gaze to the imposing fence and beyond. The beginnings of a dense pine forest lined both sides of the long winding driveway.
Rising to her feet, Nicole noted the look of concern on Riley's face. “I'll bet there are deer living in these woods.”
Riley's eyes widened with delight. “Really!” she said.
“Sure. This forest must be filled with all kinds of wild life. How about once we're settled into the house we take a long hike and explore the area?”
Trotting to the gate, Riley peered through the bars. In the ambient light filtering through the evergreen branches she hoped to catch sight of a doe or a fawn .
“I think you should have the honors,” said Nicole, waving the key to the locked gate.
Riley giggled with excitement as she ran over, retrieved the key, and disengaged the heavy padlock hanging from the gate.
The sickening sweet smell of grape pixie-stixs had permanently embedded itself into every nook and cranny of the minivan. It hovered in the air like an alien spore waiting to take root. Fourteen year old Angie Miller grabbed her hair and took a sniff. “I think I'm going to barf,” she said, struggling to hold back an urge to gag. Then she cast a quick glance at the object of her disdain.
Her younger sister, Riley, oblivious to her sister's repulsion, sat in a self-induced sugar nirvana. She was tethered to her GameBoy. And at the moment had stopped playing long enough to franticly search her backpack for another candy hit. A few seconds later she withdrew grubby little fingers clutching two paper straws. Angie watched in amazement as her sister in one quick motion, raised them to her mouth, ripped off their ends with her teeth, spat out the paper, threw her head back, letting the contents ....
Thump ... thump. A spray of sugar cascaded down Riley's chin, her pink sweater, and landed like purple snow upon the Gameboy.
“Sorry about that,” came a voice from the front seat. “That pothole came out of nowhere.”
A giggle erupted from Riley. “Wow! Did you see how that candy sprayed all over the place?”
Angie glanced toward her sister, feeling a mixture of irritation and impatience. “Mo-om!” she moaned. “It's disgusting enough back here. But now there is a sticky sugar mess everywhere.”
“Please quit complaining. I have my hands full at the moment. You're the big sister. Just get some hand wipes from my purse and help get things cleaned up. And you, Riley, I already told you no more candy.”
Leaning forward, Angie grabbed the handbag from the front passenger seat, rummaging through the contents till she withdrew three packets of moist towelettes.
She aimlessly tossed them to her sister, striking her on various locations on her forehead.
“You nearly put my eye out with those things,” barked Riley with a tongue that had been permanently dyed an interesting shade of magenta.
“They didn't come anywhere near close to your eyes.”
“Did to!” Riley retorted hotly.
“Did not!”
A long sigh of annoyance hissed from the front seat followed by some barely audible mumbled words of profanity.
Undeterred, Riley silently mouthed, “Did to,” then began licking off her keypad.
“That's so gross. There's germs all over that thing,” Angie said, peering over her shoulder.
“So what,” snapped Riley, “They're my germs.”
“Whatever,” Angie said while making a deliberate effort to roll her eyes. Even though her mother said it was an annoying teenage practice and she didn't want her daughter doing it again.
And all the while, she continued to search through her mother's handbag. At length her fingers landed upon the cell phone. Smiling with satisfaction she settled back in her seat. With the phone camouflaged within the pages of the latest issue of a mindless fashion magazine, she began sending a text message.
So for the next five minutes, the sisters played an irritating game of hide-and-seek. With Angie frantically trying to conceal the contents of the messages to her friends, letting them know how much her life sucked, and how much she wanted to return home. And her sister's prying eyes trying to read every juicy morsel.
Angie had reached her breaking point. “Stop it!” She shouted.
“What? I just wanted to see if you're sending mushy stuff to your boyfriend. Tsk, tsk. You do know that it's against the law to send smut through the airways?” Riley said with all the authority an eight year old girl could muster.
“Who are you? The phone police.”
“Hey! This girl's got to look out for own best interests,” Riley said as she raised a thumb and pointed it to her chest. “The way I see it. The phone is in mom's name. The phone company could be using spyware, searching for perverts hitting on kids. Mom could land in jail serving time for a crime she didn't commit. And we would end up living with dad and his new girlfriend. I don't want that, do you?”
“You're such a dork,” Angie muttered under her breath. But for once she agreed with Riley, the last thing she wanted was to live with their dad. She would never forgive him for betraying their mother. Staring dejectedly out the window, she wondered why his vow of everlasting love lasted only 15 years? Does love have an expiration date? So many of her friends have divorced parents and she had listened to their horror stories. Hearing about it was one thing, experiencing it firsthand was something else. Now she was certain that there are no happy ever afters.
“Girls, that's enough! You're driving me insane!” came the stern voice from behind the steering wheel of the minivan breaking into Angie's thoughts.
Nicole Miller raised her green eyes and looked into the rear view mirror at her fair-skinned, red-haired daughters. Angie, the rebellious teenager, had her curly hair tamed into a very becoming French braid. While Riley, with her impish smile and equally mischievous sense of of humor, had chosen the more carefree look of not even bothering to run a comb through her hair. The consequence was a mass of unruly ringlets haloing an angelic freckled face. “You've been at each other's throats for the entire week. I know this trip has been long and grueling. But please give me a break,” she said as she shifted in her seat, trying to work a kink from her spine. “I'm bone-tired, my back hurts, and my butt is numb. And if I have to listen to you bicker one more minute. I'm going to .....”
“What?” asked Angie. “Are you going to turn this van around and take us back home to California? Cause if you are, I'm going to call dad and have him fly me back. There's no way in h.... ,” she said sputtering and and then stopping in mid-sentence. “I mean there's no way I'm going to travel another gazillion miles in this car.” And for a dramatic effect she waved the phone in the air above her head but only resulted in rapping her knuckles against the roof of the van.
“Let's not start this again! We're not going back. I've been over this a million times. Inheriting this house is the best thing that could have happened. It gives us all a chance at a new beginning.”
“I don't need a new beginning. And certainly not in some little hick town,” huffed Angie, and folded her arms over her chest. “I was fine where I was, with my friends.”
Nicole did her best to form a sympathetic look. “Honey, just think of this as a great adventure. Now please turn off the phone and save the batteries. It will soon be dark and I have a feeling that it's going to rain. I need you girls to help me find a road sign. Or a mailbox with an address. ”
“What? Are we lost? I thought you said you've been here before.”
“I was five years old. It was the first and only time. But rest assured, we're not lost,” she said, patting the directions that the lawyer had mailed to her.
With a look of disappointment etched on Angie's face, she slumped deeper into her seat. “If we're not lost, how come we've passed that same rusty mailbox, at least three times?” she questioned, as her eyes glazed over, staring out at the passing rural Pennsylvania landscape of trees zipping past her window. Barren, bleak trees that seemed to go on forever into the great unknown. A quick glance at her new Seiko watch, one of many departing gifts of guilt from her father, confirmed her suspicions. It had been fifteen long minutes since she had last seen anything that even resembled civilization. But she rather doubted that the pathetic rundown gas station that sold live bait and fresh apple cider counted. So for the hundredth time today Angie silently cursed her dad. If he hadn't divorced her mom, she wouldn't have been uprooted from everything that mattered. “I don't understand why I have to pay the price for dad's mid-life crisis?”
“You sure whine a lot. Do you have PMS?” Riley unwisely diagnosed. “That would explain your moody funk and bloated condition. And is that a zit on your forehead?”
Angie cast her bratty kid sister a lethal glare.
But Riley chose to ignore her sister's forewarning that she was skating on thin ice and continued, “I totally agree with mom. This is a great adventure.”
“You're a total ass kisser,” Angie whispered, while she slowly drew her index finger across her throat.
“Mom! Angie just called me an ass kisser. And there was a definite silent threat to slash my throat.”
Nicole raised her eyes to the mirror once again and gave her eldest daughter a look of warning. “Watch the language, Angie. And there will be no maiming of your sister.”
“Whatever,” Angie softly moaned.
“Ahh ... yes. If my memory serves me,” Nicole said with a voice that held promised encouragement. She slowed the van to a stop along side of an enormous gate. At last they had arrived at their destination. And in one synchronized motion three bodies twisted around in their seats, three heads swiveled, and three faces gazed upon a twelve foot tall fence constructed of ornate ink-black ironwork.
Riley let out an excited gasp. “Holy cow! Is this it?”
“I forgot about the fence,” said Nicole with a laugh while shoving the transmission into park.
“You've got to be kidding me?” Angie questioned, while she stared in sheer repulsion at the iron monstrosity. “A fence is pretty and white. This is something out of Jurassic Park?”
Rummaging deep inside of her purse Nicole fished out a set of keys. “Wait here while I ...”
But before she could finish Riley was already hopping out. Released from the confines of the van, she stretched like a lazy cat, and through a loud yawn she asked, “Are you coming, Angie?”
“No! I think you and mom can manage quite well without my help.”
“Suit yourself,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, sending a little cloud of grape sugar candy floating down from her sweater. Undeterred by her sister's lack of curiosity, she scurried off, her pink Sketchers crunching atop the gravel driveway. Rounding the van, she skidded to a stop just as her mother opened her door and stepped down.
“You're not excited are you?” Nicole asked with a smile, as she too stretched and then massaged the dull ache in her lower back.
“Well ... to tell you the truth. I'm a bit scared. Daddy isn't here to take care of us,” she confessed, while reaching for her mother's hand.
Nicole knelt down, “Honey,” she said while taking holding of Riley's face in a loving caress and looking deep into her trusting eyes. “You have every reason to be concerned. But I promise I will do everything in my power to protect you and your sister. Let's give this new life a try for one year. And after that, if you and Angie are still unhappy, well then, we'll just sell the house and move back to California. Is it a deal?”
“It's a deal.” Riley replied and squeazed her mother's hand as an affirmation of an oath.
Leaning forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, “Mom?”
“Yes, dear.”
“You won't tell Angie what I said, will you? If she knows that I'm scared, she'll call me a baby.”
“It's our little secret,” her mother promised, then gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
Riley turned her gaze to the imposing fence and beyond. The beginnings of a dense pine forest lined both sides of the long winding driveway.
Rising to her feet, Nicole noted the look of concern on Riley's face. “I'll bet there are deer living in these woods.”
Riley's eyes widened with delight. “Really!” she said.
“Sure. This forest must be filled with all kinds of wild life. How about once we're settled into the house we take a long hike and explore the area?”
Trotting to the gate, Riley peered through the bars. In the ambient light filtering through the evergreen branches she hoped to catch sight of a doe or a fawn .
“I think you should have the honors,” said Nicole, waving the key to the locked gate.
Riley giggled with excitement as she ran over, retrieved the key, and disengaged the heavy padlock hanging from the gate.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Prologue
Beneath the Starry Sky
by J. A. Mathias
Prologue
An elderly, frail-looking woman lay quietly upon her hospital bed. Standing along side the eighty-five year old Sophia Roselli, her doctor noted the faint rise and fall of her sheet-covered chest, the ashen color of her papery skin, and the sunken darkly shadowed eyes. He knew her time was near as he reached down to gently caress the limp hand that lay motionless on the bed.
Though her eyes remained closed she appeared in an agitated state as she tossed her head from side to side. “Has it been discovered?” she asked with a weak voice that held unexpected urgency.
Raising one dark bushy eyebrow the doctor turned his eyes questioningly towards the exhausted nurse at his side. But she simply shrugged her shoulders, gave a quick glance at her watch, followed by an annoying tapping of her fingertips upon the metal clipboard.
“It waits beneath the starry sky,” continued the voice from the bed. Followed by a bout of coughing that subdued any further words.
“Sophia, it's Doctor Larson,” he said as he filled a glass on her night stand with fresh water from a plastic pitcher. “Take a little sip of water for me,” he instructed as he bent over, placed the glass to her lips with one hand, and gently lifted her head slightly with the other.
At his touch she abruptly opened her eyes, revealing eyes the color of violets. And with surprising strength she grasped his hand. Battling to regain her voice, her fingers tightened their grip, and her eyes anxiously focused on his face.
“It waits beneath the starry sky! Has it been discovered?” she asked once again.
“I'm afraid I don't understand what you are trying to say. What waits beneath the starry sky?” the doctor asked, leaning closer.
“The beginning,” she replied and a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “It's so very simple.”
The doctor watched as her eyes moistened then a solitary tear formed and rolled slowly down her cheek.
Speaking had sapped her strength and her voice faded to a mere whisper, “Our lives are meaningless if not remembered. Time does that, you see. People forget.”
Though puzzled by her words, he replied, “I'm sure it will be found.” Then for an instant the doctor thought he sensed relief in Sophia's face. But as quickly as it had come, it was replaced with overjoyed amazement. Her gaze was drawn from him towards the foot of her bed.
“Alice,” she tried to utter. But a gurgling sound emanated from her chest, her eyes closed, and the doctor felt her fingers go slack in his hand. Then he listened as her last breath was softly exhaled.
For Sophia, her spirit would find no immediate peace. Whatever waited beneath the starry sky must be found or all could be lost. She had made a promise years before that the secret would not be carried with her to the grave.
In that very instant, ten miles away, in an attic of an old Victorian house, the faintest scent of lilac sprung to life in the form of an ethereal mist.
It began swirling through the dormant stuffy air and seemed to take on a purpose as it slowly drifted down the stairs. Through each room it traveled, as though looking for something or someone. Until, at last, it reached a woodworking shop that was housed in the basement. Here it deliberately lingered and moved slowly among the tools.
As if reacting to its presence, a tiny mound of wood sweepings transformed into a swirling funnel of dust. The two apparitions gracefully circled and danced around each other before entwining into one entity. In that moment they experienced sheer bliss and then promptly vanished.
by J. A. Mathias
Prologue
An elderly, frail-looking woman lay quietly upon her hospital bed. Standing along side the eighty-five year old Sophia Roselli, her doctor noted the faint rise and fall of her sheet-covered chest, the ashen color of her papery skin, and the sunken darkly shadowed eyes. He knew her time was near as he reached down to gently caress the limp hand that lay motionless on the bed.
Though her eyes remained closed she appeared in an agitated state as she tossed her head from side to side. “Has it been discovered?” she asked with a weak voice that held unexpected urgency.
Raising one dark bushy eyebrow the doctor turned his eyes questioningly towards the exhausted nurse at his side. But she simply shrugged her shoulders, gave a quick glance at her watch, followed by an annoying tapping of her fingertips upon the metal clipboard.
“It waits beneath the starry sky,” continued the voice from the bed. Followed by a bout of coughing that subdued any further words.
“Sophia, it's Doctor Larson,” he said as he filled a glass on her night stand with fresh water from a plastic pitcher. “Take a little sip of water for me,” he instructed as he bent over, placed the glass to her lips with one hand, and gently lifted her head slightly with the other.
At his touch she abruptly opened her eyes, revealing eyes the color of violets. And with surprising strength she grasped his hand. Battling to regain her voice, her fingers tightened their grip, and her eyes anxiously focused on his face.
“It waits beneath the starry sky! Has it been discovered?” she asked once again.
“I'm afraid I don't understand what you are trying to say. What waits beneath the starry sky?” the doctor asked, leaning closer.
“The beginning,” she replied and a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “It's so very simple.”
The doctor watched as her eyes moistened then a solitary tear formed and rolled slowly down her cheek.
Speaking had sapped her strength and her voice faded to a mere whisper, “Our lives are meaningless if not remembered. Time does that, you see. People forget.”
Though puzzled by her words, he replied, “I'm sure it will be found.” Then for an instant the doctor thought he sensed relief in Sophia's face. But as quickly as it had come, it was replaced with overjoyed amazement. Her gaze was drawn from him towards the foot of her bed.
“Alice,” she tried to utter. But a gurgling sound emanated from her chest, her eyes closed, and the doctor felt her fingers go slack in his hand. Then he listened as her last breath was softly exhaled.
For Sophia, her spirit would find no immediate peace. Whatever waited beneath the starry sky must be found or all could be lost. She had made a promise years before that the secret would not be carried with her to the grave.
In that very instant, ten miles away, in an attic of an old Victorian house, the faintest scent of lilac sprung to life in the form of an ethereal mist.
It began swirling through the dormant stuffy air and seemed to take on a purpose as it slowly drifted down the stairs. Through each room it traveled, as though looking for something or someone. Until, at last, it reached a woodworking shop that was housed in the basement. Here it deliberately lingered and moved slowly among the tools.
As if reacting to its presence, a tiny mound of wood sweepings transformed into a swirling funnel of dust. The two apparitions gracefully circled and danced around each other before entwining into one entity. In that moment they experienced sheer bliss and then promptly vanished.
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