Beneath The Starry Sky

Chapter 6

2010-12-17T07:53:00.000-08:00

Angie hadn't slept well all night. Maybe it was because before falling a sleep she had reread Aunt Cathleen's letter. There was something about the strange little riddle at the end that had piqued her curiosity. It was a mystery, one she felt compelled to solve.

So as she slept, her mind wrestled with the letter. As a result, waking and sleeping seemed to go in spurts. Along with a lot of tossing and turning. At seven o'clock, tangled in the sheets, she woke with a start. Her mother's voice was coming from the hallway. “Come on girls, wake up. You don't want to miss the bus on your first day.”

“Crap,” she moaned, closing her eyes. The dreaded day had arrived.

A knock on her door. “Angie, are you up?” Her mother asked from the other side. A few seconds passed. “Come on Angie, I know you're awake I can hear you sighing.”

“Okay.... okay, I'm a wake,” she said, but she was still not ready to move from her toasty safe cocoon of blankets.

“Dress warm. They're calling for a couple of inches of snow later in the day. And breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes. So get a move on.”

She listened as her mother's footsteps receded down the hall. But before she could even get untangled from her sheets, Riley burst into her room. “Angie, did you hear? It's going to snow.”

With an angry shove, Angie was finally free from the bed covers. And she watched as her sister skipped into the room, all nauseatingly happy. “It's no big deal, ” she spat out.

“Of course it's a big deal. It will be my first time. I'm a snow virgin.”

Angie sat on the edge of the bed. “Where did you hear that word? And do you even know what it means?”

“I know what it means. Geez.... give me some credit. I'm not a stupid little girl.”

While her sister was talking, Angie swung her legs off of the bed and slipped her feet into her slippers, making a quick beeline for the door. “Ha... says you. Apparently you're stupid enough to let me get first dibs on the bathroom.”

“No fair,” Riley hollered. But her sister was already out the door and running down the hall.

Miraculously, thirty minutes later, both girls were dressed and heading for the kitchen. Nicole looked up from the stove as they entered. “Look at my girls. You both look so cute for your first day,” she said proudly. “Give me a little spin so I get the total look.”

Riley complied immediately. “Do you think I will be warm enough? It is going to snow after all.” She said, as she twirled to show off her new corduroy pants and pink sweater.

“I would think so. But to be on the safe side, maybe you should wear the new vest that Nana bought you.”

Next, Nicole turned her eyes on Angie who had her thick mane of auburn hair, loosely tied back with a ribbon. “Very nice. But won't you be a tad cold?” She said, while scanning the plaid mini-skirt and tight-fitting graphic tee-shirt.

“I'm not changing, Mom. This is what I wore in California and this is what I'm wearing here.”

Nicole turned back to the stove, biting her tongue so hard, she thought she tasted blood. “Alrightie then. Sit down, breakfast is ready.”

The girls sat down while their mother filled their plates with bacon and scrambled eggs. “Are you sure you don't want me to drive you both to school?” She asked with concern.

“I'll be fine,” Angie said while eying the eggs with disgust.

“Me too,” Riley mumbled through a mouthful of food. “I was looking forward to riding the bus.”

Nicole added an extra spoonful of eggs on Angie's plate. “Okay. The buses will pick you up at the end of the driveway. Riley's will arrive first and then Angie's. After you arrive at the school, go straight to the office. They will have everything ready for you and will inform you as to where to go. Any questions?”

Neither girls replied. Angie was still looking at her eggs, feeling queasy. She glanced quickly at Riley and moaned a little. Her sister was gulping down her food like it was nobody's business.

“Eat up,” Nicole instructed. “I'll go get your coats.” And she hurried from the room.

Several minutes later she returned with Riley's vest, their heavy wool coats, scarves, and gloves. Angie looked up from the untouched food she had stirred into an unidentifiable mess. “Mom, I don't want to wear that coat,” she said looking at the long wool tweed her mother had bought before they left California. “I want the one that Nana gave me.”

“Honey, I don't think you'll be warm enough.”

"Mom, that's the one I want,” Angie huffed.

“Fine. You're the one that's going to freeze, not me,” Nicole replied. “Here, take this one back to your room.”
Angie grabbed the coat and rushed from the kitchen, muttering under her breath as she went.

In the meantime, Nicole hustled Riley to the front door. Then she watched patiently as Riley put on her vest, and then her coat, wrapped the scarf around her neck, and then slipped on her gloves. By this time, Angie was descending the stairs wearing a vintage leather biker jacket.

Nicole groaned softly, “I still don't think you're going to be warm enough.” And she stepped forward, attempting to wrap a knitted scarf around her neck.

Angie backed up a few steps. “I'm not wearing that. It doesn't go with my jacket.”

“For goodness sake. You sure are being difficult this morning.”

Angie looked her mother in the eye, “Move us back to California and I'll be your sweet little girl again.” Instantly, she regretted what she said and wanted the words back.

Nicole's eyes grew stormy. “Are you trying to blackmail me? You don't even want to go there young lady.”

Angie knew she should apologize, instead she dropped her gaze and headed for the front door. “Come on Riley,” she said, as she grabbed the knob. “Let's get this over.”

Nicole walked over and gave them each a kiss on the cheek and ignored the fact that Angie recoiled just a little. “Remember girls, just be yourselves and everyone will like you.”

“Bye Mom,” Riley barely managed to say, before Angie shoved her out the door and shut it behind them.

Out on the porch, Angie stood there stewing. But her anger was soon forgotten as a cold bitter wind whipped angrily at her skin. For a moment she was half tempted to run back into the house to change. But Riley interrupted with “Geez, Angie, sucks to be you in that mini-skirt.”

“Come on,” she growled, stomping down the stairs. And as they trudged down the long driveway, she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of the leather jacket. And she did her best to ignored Riley's squeals of delight about the impending snow.

Finally they arrived at the end of the drive. Then for five long minutes they waited until the first bus rumbled into view. By this time, Angie felt like a Popsicle. Her hands were numb and her legs were blue. And somewhere along the way, the ribbon holding her hair back had become undone. Now her hair was whipping furiously about her face.

Riley was the first to see the approaching bus. “That's it! That's my bus. Do you see it, Angie?” She said all giddy.

“Yeah, I see it,” she replied through chattering teeth.

The big yellow bus rolled to a hissing stop in front of them and opened its door. Before Angie even had a chance to tell her sister good-bye, she hopped aboard and the door closed behind her.

Clearly disappointed, Angie kicked at the gravel covering the driveway. And watched as the bus rumbled to life, heading down the road, and disappearing around the curve.

She was all alone now. Standing in the middle of nowhere and all around was the barren forest. “California is not like this,” she said aloud. And her words created a foggy mist that was carried off by the moaning wind.

Straining her ears, she listened for the sound of her bus. A faint noise could be heard coming from beyond the trees. Then a minute later she saw it heading towards her. For a moment she thought about pulling her hand out of her jacket pocket and waving it down. Just in case the driver didn't see the blue girl in a mini-skirt standing in the freezing wind. But thankfully the bus slowed, then stopped in front of her. Happy to be out of the cold and with a stupid smile plastered on face, she stepped aboard.

Immediately, she was greeted with, “Girl, what are thinking dressing like that? It's going to snow.”

Angie cringed with embarrassment. To make it worse, a few girls sitting behind the driver snickered at the wisdom about fashion versus winter. It was about then, she was aware that the bus had grown suddenly quiet. Everyone was giving full attention to the new girl.

“Shit,” Angie moaned, keeping her eyes down, feeling like an insect under a microscope. She would have given anything to be back in her bed, pillow over her head. Instead, walked down the aisle and claimed the last space. Easing herself into the seat, the bus continued rumbling along, and conversations resumed.

Although the inside of the bus was certainly warmer than being in the cold wind, it was by no means toasty. So Angie began rubbing her hands together in an attempt to stimulate her blood. She was also feeling a little braver and she discreetly looked around. To her dismay, every single person was bundled up in heavy coats, scarves, and gloves. And she couldn't help but notice that not a single mini-skirt was in sight, only jeans. In a pathetic attempt to look less conspicuous, she tugged at her hem. But it wouldn't give an inch. And she groaned to herself, feeling sure that this fashion faux pas was an omen of things to come.

Fifteen long minutes later, the bus turned into the parking lot of the Hillcrest High School. Her pulse raced as she stared out the window. Then her heart sank at the sight. An old three-story red brick building loomed in front of her. “Yikes! How old is this building?” She muttered aloud.

A deep laugh came from the seat behind her. “It's older than dirt.”

Angie turned in her seat and looked at the most handsome boy she'd ever seen in her life. He had dark shaggy hair, a brilliant smile, and deep penetrating eyes that were studying her. “Oh,” was all her mind could come up with. Nothing witty, nothing remarkable, just “Oh.” Embarrassed, she turned back in her seat.

Slowly, the kids shuffled off the bus. Nearing the front, she braced herself for the cold. But when she stepped outside, it still came as a frigid blast that almost took her breath away. “I hate it here,” she whimpered to herself.

Leaning into the wind, she crossed the parking lot with dozens of other students. Unfortunately, there was no way for her to meld into the crowd. Not when her mini-skirt and bare legs stood out like a beacon announcing the presence of the stupid new girl. So she simply had to endure their stares.

She didn't know what to expect as she followed the wind-blown crowd through large wooden double doors. For sure it was not the brightly illuminated hallway with its grand architecture and highly polished wooden floor. Or the stunning black iron antique fixtures hanging from the ceiling. So she just stood in place looking around not noticing that the incoming students were forced to veer around her. It wasn't until she heard their grumbles that she moved off to the side.

She singled out the nearest person and asked for directions to the office. A minute later she was on her way.

Chapter 5

2010-12-16T16:15:00.000-08:00

Looking down at her pruney fingers. “I can't believe there's no dishwasher,” Angie grumbled out loud. She had just finished washing and drying the last of the dishes. With a little smirk, she realized it was a small price to pay for freedom. So when her mother offered her a choice of doing the dishes or helping Riley unpack her luggage. Well, it was hands down the dishes. After all, she had her moment of togetherness with her sister while exploring the attic.

Now what she really wanted was some alone time in the library. And a book was what she needed. It would help take her mind off the dreadful thoughts of attending the new school in the morning. Tossing the towel on the counter, she let out a long pathetic sigh. Maybe, just maybe, the fact she was from California would be an advantage. Some of these kids might think she had rubbed elbows with Hollywood celebrities. And then they would want to be her friend. “Yeah, right,” Angie mumbled to herself. She knew how cliques worked.

I'm not going to think about it now, she thought to herself, while hurrying down the hallway. Coming to a stop outside of the library, she paused long enough on the threshold to survey her new sanctuary. Within the quiet room, hundreds and hundreds of books were working their magic on her, beckoning her in. Angie willingly followed their call and scurried over to the bookcase.

Slowly, moving along the shelves, she noted the title on the spines of each one. “Interesting?” She said softly, when she realized that many of the books were history and autobiographies. Many years ago, her Nana had told her that you can tell a lot about a person, just by the books they read. And over the years, Angie had paid attention to what friends and family were reading. There were the romantics, thrill seekers, horror followers, academics... so many niches that people withdrew into. And it was clear to Angie, what kind of people her great-aunt and uncle were. They were people interested in the past.

But there were other varieties of books here as well. Mostly fiction, mostly classics, and many first additions, she noted. This was a useful skill she had learned while browsing rare book stores. So it was with great care she handled each one, as if they were fragile, and might crumble at any moment.

“What to read?” She whispered to each one, as her fingers moved lightly across each spine. half expecting the voices of the authors to speak to her. And to her surprise, her fingers lingered upon an unlikely choice. Feeling an intense attraction to this particular novel, she removed it from the shelf. It had been one of her favorites when she was younger. Now it felt strange to want to read it again especially after recent unsettling events. But the desire was strong and she ignored the nervousness in her stomach.

She looked around the room for a choice spot to read. One of the plush leather chairs in front of the fireplace seemed the most desirable. And indeed it was as Angie settled deep into its supple softness. The room had grown darker in the afternoon light. So she reached over and switched on a nearby lamp sitting on a small table placed conveniently between the two chairs. Leaning back, she released a sigh of contentment, opened the book, letting the words lure her into another world.

'Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading..... '

Time no longer was relevant as Angie continued reading. She was now fully swept up into the story. And it came as an intrusion when she was prepared to start Chapter V and a folded sheet of paper fell into her lap.

"What's this?" Angie said as she opened the letter.

My dearest Nicole,

You must be asking yourself why me? Of all the family members we could have willed the house to, why you? Your Uncle Tony and I had made that decision. many years ago. It was after your visit with us when you were about five years old. You looked so much like our Alice. And for a small moment in time, the laughter you brought into this house once again filled our hearts with joy.

The loss of our dear child, plagued us daily. But Tony and I found strength in each other to continue living, to continue getting enjoyment out of our lives. And before we knew it, a lifetime had passed, and we were old. For me now, it has been five, long, lonely years without my Tony. But it won't be much longer, my end is near, I can feel my life ebbing away with each day.

Tonight, as I peer out the window at the night sky, the overhead stars seem extraordinarily bright. And I know that somewhere out there, beyond all the spinning planets, and galaxies, with their multitudes of glowing stars, Tony and Alice's spirits still exist. I can feel their closeness more than ever before. Perhaps, it's because my time to depart this earth is drawing near and we will once again be together.

But, before I join the two people I love the most, I have one more task. These past days of summoning up memories has been painful, sapping all the remaining life from my body. My arthritic fingers move with the slowness and pain of old age, but I realize the importance of this letter and know they mustn't forsake me now, not with so much at risk.

How sad it is, when someone dies, eventually, its like they never existed. The warmth of their flesh, their voice, their laughter, all gone. Then all remembrance of them fades. This is both regrettable but also very expected. Yet for some there is an exception to this finality. There is a way for that person to still live on.

Nicole, with this letter, a prelude to your journey, you will eventually understand.

Now it is up to you to follow this clue:
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 Cathleen

“What the hell!” Angie said. The weird letter stirred her curiosity, so she reread it two more times. She felt strangely moved by the words. Especially the part about a daughter that died. Rising quickly, Angie rushed over to the desk and retrieved the photo she had looked at this morning. A shiver traveled down her spine as she looked at the little girl that had died at a very young age.

Returning the photo to the desk, Angie reread the last few sentences.

Nicole, with this letter, a prelude to your journey, you will eventually understand. Now it is up to you to follow this clue:

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.

"What the heck does this mean?" She muttered aloud as she rushed out the door. “Mom,” she hollered, waving the letter as she hurried up the stairs. “Mom?” She yelled again as she reached the landing at the top.

“What?” Came her mother's muffled voice from the end of the hall. "I'm in Riley's room."

Racing down the hallway. “I found something weird,” she said loudly.

When Angie entered the room, all out of breath, Nicole looked up from the cardboard box that she had just sealed shut. “What did you say?” She asked Angie, who now stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.

“I found this strange letter in one of the books in the library. It's addressed to you. It's from aunt Cathleen.”

“Really?” Nicole said, as she retrieved it from Angie's shaking fingers. She lifted the cardboard box from the bed and sat it on the floor with a half a dozen others. Then she sat down and began to read.

Angie tried to gauge her mother's reaction. But the woman had a poker face. “Well?” She said anxiously.

Nicole looked up from the letter. “Well, what? The woman was eighty-nine. This is probably all gibberish.”

Angie looked stunned. “How can you say that? It seems pretty coherent to me.”

“What do you want me to say, Angie” Nicole said with a shrug, tossing the letter on the bed. “I don't have time to waste on some mysterious letter.”

“Aha! You said mysterious.”

“Alright. I'll admit it's a bit strange. But that's all it is,” Nicole said as she picked up a cardboard box and handed it to Angie. "Please stack these boxes in the closet."

"Where's Riley? Why isn't she helping?" Angie moaned as she walked over to the walk-in closet. The door was already open and several other boxes where sitting back in a corner. But Angie sat her box down in front of a floor length mirror that was fastened to a side wall.

"Your sister was looking really tired. So I sent her downstairs to rest."

“Tired my butt. She was faking it," Angie said, as she walked back and retrieved two more boxes. Stacking them top of the others. By the time she was finished, the mirror was almost concealed.

"Mom, back to the letter," Angie continued. "People don't write riddles for no reason. Not even old people. This means something.”

Nicole let out an exasperated sigh. “I don't have time for this now. The next few weeks are going to be very hectic for me... for us. New school, the moving van arriving, meetings with the attorney. Not to mention, Thanksgiving and Nana coming to visit. But as soon as things settle down, I'll try to solve the mystery of the letter. Okay?”

Angie was clearly disappointed and unconvinced.. “Alright,” she replied.

“Good. Now that's settled. How about we go down and get something for dinner? Tomorrow is school and you girls need your rest.”

Chapter 4

2010-12-15T15:56:00.000-08:00

For the better part of the morning Angie avoided her mother and sister. She chose to stay holed up in her bedroom, moping. As she lay across the bed, 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 on 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. And her mother had arranged for the rest of their belongings to arrive sometime next week.

Unhappy, Angie sat down on the edge of the bed like a lump and a long disillusioned sigh escaped her lungs. Thanksgiving was next week and Nana was coming to help unpack and also spend the holiday with them. But tomorrow was what really worried her. In the morning, she had to face the agony of attending a new school. It was difficult enough being a sophomore. But now she was also the new girl. How could her mother put her through that ordeal?
A soft knock on her door interrupted her melancholy mood.

“What?”

Her sister opened the door and poked her head into the room like a cautious cat. “Friends?” She asked timidly, while attempting a small smile. “I'm lonely.”

Angie looked at her sad little face and realized that she must be experiencing the same scary feelings, Suddenly she felt unexpected warm fuzzies for her little sister. This was certainly something she hadn't felt for quite a while. 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, took a flying leap, and belly-flopped 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 rolled over on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. “It's weird here.”

Angie fell back on the bed and joined her in staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. Weird. It's like we've traveled to another world. ”

They remained quiet for a few minutes, each lost in the uncertainty of their futures. “Let's go exploring,”Angie finally said, only because she was bored stupid.

“Really?” Riley's face broke into a huge smile and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Come on. Before I change my mind,” Angie said hauling herself off the bed.

Riley jumped to the floor and grabbed her sister's hand. “Let's start in mom's room. She told me it's beautiful.”

Down the long hall they raced. The door was open and they stepped across the threshold of an elegant master suite. The room was spacious and sunny thanks to the multi-windowed tower room that was next to the bedroom. Warm shafts of sunlight played on a large oriental carpet that was placed squarely in the center of the room. Angie slowly walked around looking at the antique furniture scattered about the room, it glowed a deep rosy hue in the splashes of sunlight. 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.”

“Why are you acting like a big chicken?”

Angie gave her a withering look. “I'm not a chicken. I just think we should respect other people's personal things.”

“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. There'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 knickknacks. But no adornment was needed because of the simply stunning 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 was the doomed ceiling, which was painted a deep shade of blue and embellished with a sea of glittering stars. And the floor, which was covered with an exquisite inlay of a compass rose.

Angie smiled. “This is a dreaming place.” she whispered as she turned in a slow circle.

Riley was still looking out the windows when an other idea blossomed in her mind. “We can go higher. I know how to get into the attic,” she said, while she dug in her jeans pocket, retrieved a stick of bubblegum, and popped into her mouth.

Angie looked at her sister with a frown. “Forget it. It ain't gonna happen. You can just put that idea out of your head.”

“I'll bet there's really great stuff hidden up there.”

“What part of 'no' do you not understand? Just give it a rest, will ya. I'm not going up there.”

“Why not? Are you afraid that we might see a ghost?” Riley said 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.” Angie knew this old trick but for some reason she fell for it every time. “Alright, 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.” Then 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. She had to grab for the newel post to prevent falling down the stairs. As she did, 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,” she said in a warning tone. “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.”

“Sorry,” Riley said and really meant it because she knew it was way more fun to go exploring with her sister than by herself. “Follow me,” she said, leading them back through their mother's bedroom and down the hallway. She stopped and stood waving her hands in the direction of a closet door adjacent to the bathroom. “This is it,” she said as she opened the door to reveal a large walk-in closet that held shelves of towels and linens along two walls. And the third wall contained a small wooden door.

“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 of the little door, revealing a dim stairwell. Uninsulated walls were exposed, causing the air to be much colder here.

“Gosh, it sure is chilly,” Angie said while hugging her body with both their arms.

Riley blew a bubble with her gun, sucked it back in her mouth and snapped it loudly. A look of satisfaction filled her eyes as she made an attempt to begin climbing the staircase.

“Hold on there. Maybe you better let me go first. Mom will have a fit if I let anything happen to her baby,” Angie said with a slight smirk as she stepped in front of her and began the ascent. Each foot step brought creaks and groans from the old wooden treads. “I guess we won't be sneaking up on any of your ghosts in this place, huh Riley.”

The attic had two small windows at each end. And they were coated with grime, letting in only gray light that cut a dim path down the center of the large room. The rest of the attic was left in gloomy concealment.

Angie looked up, there among the cobwebs, dangling from the rafters, she found a string hanging from a forlorn bulb. With a tug, she it clicked on, creating some feeble light. But it was enough to reveal a typical attic cloaked in shadows and memories. And also there were boxes and abandoned ancient suitcases that were stacked around the room.

“I told you this would be fun, “ Riley said as she hurried ahead, stirring up dust, and something else, a faint elusive scent.

Angie's nose suddenly filled with a perfumed fragrance. “Do you smell that? It smells like flowers. Lilacs I think.” She stated just before she let out a sneeze, followed by another, and another.

“I don't smell anything. But there is plenty of dust,” Riley replied, running a finger over a suitcase that was coated with a heavy layer of dust, and now exposing its brown surface. “Do you think there are spiders up here?”

“Probably,” Angie replied as she poked into a large cardboard box that contained old phonograph records.
Then she heard her sister mumble something about hating big hairy spiders before shuffling deeper into the room.

The girls were absorbed in exploring and every few minutes they would make a comment about what they had discovered. A box in a dark corner beckoned to Angie. As she moved toward it, she thought she heard a voice murmuring softly.

“Did you say something?” she asked , looking over her shoulder and not paying attention to where she was walking. And as a result, she tripped over a warped floorboard. Falling forward, she landed on her hands and knees, knocking the contents of a box across the floor.

Pieces of colored glass and assorted small hand tools spilled over the floor. “Dam, that hurt!” Angie cursed, as she rubbed at her knees. She looked up to see if Riley was watching. But her sister was absorbed in trying on old hats that she had found in a large trunk. Slightly peeved, she began removing a few little shards of glass that were stuck in her jeans and carefully placed them back in the box. Then gingerly she gathered the remaining pieces from the floor, followed by a quick search to make sure that none had eluded her. It was then she noticed the paper that had rolled between two old suitcases. It was coiled and bound with an old blue silk ribbon. 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 show the original sketch of the stained glass window in the foyer. And written in the bottom corner was 'My Alice, by Cathleen Roselli'.

Angie was truly surprised to discover that the window had been created by her great-aunt. Maybe there was more to this stranger than she realized as she retied it and returned it 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 for next year. Or are you planning on wearing it the first day to your new school?”

“Very funny,” Riley said strutting 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 the boxes. But Riley was deeply disappointed that they had found nothing of great importance. “What did you expect to find? A treasure or something,” Angie asked her pouting sister as they left the attic and headed down to the kitchen looking for their mother and lunch.

“Maybe.”

“You're crazy. That kind of stuff only happens in the movies,” she replied as they walked into the kitchen where their mother was at the sink, suds dripping from her fingers.

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.

“The attic,” Riley informed. “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.”

Riley was dejected and she plopped down in a chair at the table.

“Oh, no you don't,” her mother said. “Lunch is ready and the both of you need to wash up. You're filthy.”

Chapter 3

2010-12-14T15:08:00.000-08:00

That night, settling into the strange bed, sleep claimed Angie in a matter of minutes. And so did a peculiar dream that repeated itself throughout the night. She was rushing through a small sunlit meadow that was filled with swaying wild flowers, yellow, pink, and soft violet. Her heart was racing, she was in pursuit of something. Just a few yards ahead, a creature small and white stopped and waited for her to catch up. Angie slowed to a walk and smiled at the ...

Whump, whump, whump. Angie's dream world shook and she opened one sleepy eye to see her sister with a severe case of bed-head, wearing Sponge Bob Square Pants pj's, bouncing up and down on her bed.

“Wake up sleepy head,” Riley ordered.

Feeling confused, Angie tried to clear the sleep from her head. But her thoughts were foggy, still twisted up in the strange dream. “What?” Was the only thing she managed to utter.

Brushing a wayward red curl from her pixie face, Riley continued, “Get up! 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. Aren't you the least bit curious?”

“Nope,” she replied pulling the covers over her head and hoping her sister would stop yakking. “Go ask mom to explore with you. Just leave me out of it.”

“Mom is taking a shower.”

Riley sat for a 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. She closed her eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but her brain was starting to reboot. Minutes later 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. The reality of actually living here was starting to sink in and it made her angry.

Bleary eyed, she slipped out of bed, wandered over to the window, and pulled back the heavy drapes. A blaze of sunlight assaulted her and she moaned softly with pain. Sometime during the night the storm had subsided leaving behind cold November air. Angie could feel it seeping through the glass as she let her gaze sweep across the expanse of gardens at the back of the house. For the first time in her life, her home didn't hold images of palm trees and ocean. Through her new bedroom window, in the distance, she saw a path that 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 would somehow hear.

A minute later, she was out the bedroom door, deliberately stomping down the long hall toward the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, bathed, fully dressed, and still fuming, she headed toward the staircase.

Last night, with all the excitement of moving in, the storm, and being bone tired. 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. The window 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,” her mother stated.

Angie jumped, surprised at being spoken to. “I know! I'm not stupid.”

Nicole ignored her testiness. “It's a beautiful window, isn't it?”

“I suppose so.”

“Did you sleep well?"

Angie only grunted.

"That was quite the storm we had last night,” Nicole continued while leaning over the railing and squinting her eyes and pointing,`“Does that frame look like it has some wood rot?”

“Where?” Angie asked unenthusiastically.

“There in the bottom corner.”

Angie huffed a sigh that screamed, I could care less. But then an idea sparked in her mind. Maybe if this place was in need of extensive repairs. Repairs that her mother could not afford. Then they could would have to 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. I'll have to find a carpenter and get that repaired right away. Remind me to ask the 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 looks a lot like you.”

“What!” Angie said, stopping in her tracks.

“I think she looks just like you. Same color hair, same beautiful face, same green eyes.”

“She does not. She looks nothing like me,” Angie said curtly. But the thought of the window proved too great, and she looked up. The young girl in the window seemed to be looking directly at her, smiling. Then she suddenly recalled her dream from last night, the meadow of wildflowers, the white rabbit. 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 not sure what to say. Quickly she came to a decision. 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 ....”

“I could have gone all day without you pointing that out to me.”

“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 last 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 annoying kid sister. Instead, she veered off from the foyer and found herself in the same room that Riley had hidden in the night before.

But this morning, in the bright sunlight, nothing about the room was unsettling. In fact it looked like a wonderful place to while away the hours. It had a 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 landscape 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, whipping off the remaining cover and balled it up in her arms.

Turning, she looked at the opposite end of the room. In front of a wall of floor to ceiling windows, sat a large desk. Angie scowled, because on the floor was the another sheet Riley had discarded the night before. Walking over to retrieve it, she stopped to look at the contents of the desk. Her eyes roamed over its surface. It all looked like normal stuff, old junk mail, 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 was in black and white. Angie picked it up to look closer at the man, woman, and girl smiling in the picture. Were they her Great Aunt Cathleen and Uncle Tony? But the child? With a shrug, she returned the photo to the desk.

Lifting her eyes to the main focal point of the room, was a massive bookcase that occupied one long wall. On its shelves sat hundreds of books. And the sight of it sent Angie's heart racing. An avid reader, she smiled at the vast array now at her beck and call. And the scent of the leather-bound volumes filled her with fond memories of road-trips with Nana to investigate the contents of large and small book stores throughout California. Those were wonderful exclusive trips with her grandmother, that is until her sister came along.

Angie's stomach rumbled, interrupting her thoughts. She was very hungry but first she needed to find her sister. But she could be anywhere in this monster of a house. With a sigh, she decided the books would have to wait till later. Stuffing her hands into her jean pockets, she trudged 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 this 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 melodrama and she gave a little shudder. “Damn you Jeff for messing up their lives,” she said cursing her ex husband under her breath. She felt her spine stiffen as she braced for the assault. “I'm in here.”

Angie was fuming when she 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! No satellite! 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 ready.”

“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. She placed it before her and then watched in amazement as her eight-year-old daughter swooped down attacking her food as if she were a burly driver of an eighteen-wheeler, who 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 tomorrow to take care of everything. Now sit down and eat before your breakfast gets cold.”

Angie still felt like arguing. But the smell of the pancakes and sausage was too much, so she temporarily called a truce and 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 didn't say anything at first, she just sat staring at her breakfast. Suddenly her appetite took a 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 sister's direction. And with an angry snort she was on her feet and leaving the kitchen.

“She's a bit of a drama queen,” Riley said, while reaching over and snatching 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.

Chapter 2

2010-12-13T14:43:00.000-08:00

Wind was building from the advancing storm as Nicole drove through the open gate. The mini-van entered a passage of barren trees and thickly clustered pines that encroached on both sides of the long winding gravel road. The effect was a shadowy darkness that cast a sinister and menacing spell upon the surrounding forest.

“It's kind of spooky,” Riley said, pressing her nose against the window

“I hate this place already,” Angie noted glumly.

The van bounced over the rutted driveway. "I think we need to get this paved," Nicole said, as she tried to avoid the worst of the gullies. Finally, the van rounded the last curve.

Before them sat a grand Victorian, that was tucked in among old towering trees. The house stood tall and imposing, with its multi-gabled roof, three-story tower covered with creeping ivy, and a dozen or more leaded window.

“Welcome home,” Nicole said, craning her neck, marveling at the architecture. “Well, what do you think?” She asked, swiveling around in her seat to look at the girls.

“It's awesome!' breathed Riley.

“Jeez! Is this it? It gives me the creeps,” Angie declared as she felt the makings of a shiver run down her spine.

“Nonsense,” Nicole stressed with a laugh. “ Victorian houses get a bad rap from cheesy horror flicks. According to them, they are overun with ghosts.”

“Ghosts! Did you say ghosts? Riley said, her curious nose wrinkled, and freckles bunched together as she stared up at the house. “That would be so cool.”

“Get real,” Angie said with a groan as she watched her sister's eyes widen. The kid lived for this crap and Angie wanted to nip it in the bud. “There are no such things,” she added.

“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.”

That remark did not sit well with Riley and her green eyes grew stormy. “Nana is not crazy! 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 a bit different. 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 now turned a gun-metal gray, cloaking the empty house in ominous shades of Gothic darkness. As if on cue from a movie director, somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.

Nicole stared out the window at the approaching 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 the wide front porch that swept around two sides of the house. Wind from the storm had fallen leaves in its grasp, and sent them swirling and scudding around antique wicker furniture. Overhead, lightning forked across the sky in a dazzling burst, followed by a violent thunder-clap. Angie involuntarily shrank closer to her mother just as another brilliant arc of lightning lit up the interior of the low-hanging clouds. And a dark curtain of rain swept over the land, bringing with it the first big fat drops that pelted against the porch roof.

“Well, that was certainly good timing,” Nicole said a bit breathless.

Riley put on an evil grin and rubbed her hands together. “It's going to be a dark and stormy night. Perfect conditions for ghosts.”

“Quit acting like a total butt hole,” Angie replied, giving her the best evil eye she could muster.

From the shelter of the porch, they watched as thunder tore open the sky and the rain escalated into a cloudburst. “Let's get inside,” Nicole quickly said.

By this time Riley's curiosity had reached its limit. While her mother rummaged around in her purse for the house keys, she scurried across the porch to the nearest window. Using the sleeve of her coat, she wiped off a layer of accumulated grime, and pressed her freckled 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 the 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.

The girls pretended not to have heard. The wicked storm nipping at their heels proved to be a big motivator, and the girls stuck to their mother like used chewing gum on the bottom of a shoe. Together they stumbled and jostled over the threshold.

"Okay, don't knock me over," Nicole said, as she closed the door behind them. Instantly muffling the noise of the pounding rain and blowing wind. The girls waited almost breathless in the unfamilar darkness, as their mother searched for the switch. “Ah... found it,” she said, and a pool of light instantly bathed the large foyer with a welcome brightness.

“Holy ... s-s-shit!” Riley stammered, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

“Riley!” Nicole exclaimed. But she turned her eyes upon Angie.

“What? She didn't hear it from me,” she said, lifting 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 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. And their discarded coats added to the top of the pile.

“Now what? What are we to do?” Angie asked, looking around as though already bored.

Nicole gazed longingly at a hallway that ran deeper into the house. “Do whatever you want. This is your home now,” she replied. “Listen, I don't know about you two, but I need to scout up a bathroom in the worst kind of way. 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. And grinning like a Cheshire cat, she vanished within its darkness.

Angie remained motionless in the foyer, a nervous knot forming in her stomach as she watched her mother disappear. All alone she could hear the strange sighing and groaning of the house. And as if she was expecting a ghost to suddenly pop out of the woodwork, her eyes anxiously shot back and forth searching the shadowy niches of the foyer and darkened doorways of rooms lining the hallway. To say the least it was very unsettling to be in an unfamiliar place, especially on a stormy night. “All we need is for the damn lights to go out,” she thought to herself as she jumped at a thunder-clap. Her palms suddenly broke 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 as she looked around at her alien surroundings. “Home, sweet home,” she said somberly.

But just as she was about to go in search of her mother, she had the unsettling sensation that she was being watched. In her peripheral vision, for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a vague misty form on the stairs. Surely it 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, but there was no response. “Riley, quit playing games. So help me, I'm going to kick your butt when I find you,” she said angrily. But the only sound was rain tapping on the windows. Paranoia, swept over her, turning, she walked in the direction where she had last seen her sister disappear. Entering the dark room, for a millisecond, a brilliant flash of lightning back-lit an eerie spectral white shape standing in front of the window. It was quickly followed by thunder booming and rattling the 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 that echoed through the house. 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 let out a whoop of laughter.

“What's wrong?” Nicole demanded as she burst into the room while frantically searching 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 silver dollars and the color had drained from her face. But slowly, the realization of her sister's stunt was seeping through and she could move her muscles again. And as she recovered her wits, her face began a transformation that was akin to murder. “Riley ... I'm going to crush you like a bug.”

“Stop!” Nicole bellowed. “The two of you nearly scared me to death.”

“What? I didn't do anything,” Angie corrected her 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.

A devilish 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 broad staircase leading up to unknown gloom.

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 rooms that were filled with antique artifacts and expensive art objects. 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 Cathlen left all of this to mom? After all, she barely knew her.”

“Yeah, I've been wondering about that also. How much easier it would have been for everyone if she had left it to Nana,” Angie said with a sigh.

At last they came upon the kitchen where an old-fashioned, coiled, fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling was emitting a gentle but 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. It's been an exhausting week and 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

Chapter 1

2010-12-12T16:03:00.000-08:00

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 on any surface.

Fifteen year old Angie Miller was in a black mood as she grabbed her hair and took a sniff. “I think I'm going to barf,” she said, struggling to hold back an involuntary urge to gag. Narrowing her eyes, she cast a quick glance at the object of her disdain, her younger sister, Riley.

But Riley, oblivious to her sister's repulsion, sat in a self-induced sugar nirvana. If that wasn't bad enough, she had been tethered to her Game Boy almost nonstop during the week long trip. She only bothered to come up for air every once in a while. And then it was a frantic search of her backpack for another candy hit. That's exactly what she was doing at the moment. And Angie watched in disgust, as she withdrew fingers clutching two paper straws. Then in one quick, well-practiced 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 Game Boy.

“Sorry about that,” came their mother's 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 rolled her eyes as she pondered the likely hood of one of them being secretly adopted. And there had been several occasions she had asked her mom that very question. But today she didn't bother, instead. “Mo-om!” she moaned, while flashing her sister another why-are-you-ruining-my-life glance. “It's disgusting enough back here. But now there is a sticky sugar mess everywhere.”

“Angie... please. I know it's been a long grueling drive. But 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 grumbled to herself as she 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 and wiped at her eyes, expecting to find blood.

“Did not,” Angie replied, while grabbing another towelette and taking aim.

“Don't even think about it, Angie,” her mother warned from the front seat.

“Ha ha,” Riley silently mouthed, then began licking off her keypad.

Angie ignored her sister's taunt and continued searching in her mother's handbag,

"Mmmmm.... look Angie. This is delicious."

Angie quickly peered over her shoulder. And immediately, she could have kicked herself for looking. Her sister was slowly and deliberately, running her purple tongue over every key. “That's so gross. There's germs all over that thing.”

“So what,” snapped Riley, as she made some disgusting slurping noises.

"I'm not getting sucked into your childish games," Angie said, while she continued to search inside the handbag. And at last her fingers landed upon the cell phone. Smiling with satisfaction she settled back in her seat. And her thoughts brought up images of her friends, now thousands of miles away. Their laughing faces flashed through her mind. These were girls she had grown up with and shared secrets. Sadly, they would no longer share fits of laughter over the silliest things, long chats about the hottest guys in the class, or even enjoy a slice of pizza together. In fact, the only time she would see them again would be for a few weeks each summer when she would return home to spend time with her dad.

Slouching deeper in her seat, she camouflaged the phone within the pages of “Pride and Prejudice”, her recent addiction. Automatically her fingers began texting messages to her friends, letting them know how much her life sucked and how much she wanted to return home.

“What are you doing?” Riley asked, suddenly interested in what her sister was doing.

"None of your business," Angie said, while her fingers were flying over the keys at a phenomenal speed. Within seconds, friends were reporting back with information that made her heart sink. They were all at the beach having a cookout.

Blinking back angry tears, Angie closed the phone. How could they be having fun while her life was so miserable, she thought to herself.

Riley interrupted her sister's forlorn thoughts by skillfully hitting her with a wadded up paper straw, right on the very tip of her nose. “Are you chatting with your loser friends? Or are you sending mushy stuff to your boyfriend? Tsk, tsk. You do know that it's against the law to send smut through the airways?” She said with all the authority an eight year old girl could muster.

“Who are you? The freaking phone police,” Angie replied, while fighting back the urge to cry.

“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. Turning in her seat, she stared dejectedly out the window. And once again she was silently battling with the issue of everlasting love. Does love have an expiration date? Do you lose interest at a certain point in marriage and just put up with the other person for the rest of your life. Or do you just leave.

Nicole Miller had sat silently behind the steering wheel, listening to her daughters bickering. But she held her tongue and decided to let them vent. After all, they had every right to be angry. The divorce was bad enough. But to uproot them from the only home they ever knew might have been asking too much. She raised her eyes and looked into the rear view mirror. Fifteen year old Angie, with her delicate, heart-shaped face, ivory complexion, deep-set green eyes, and mass of copper hair, was becoming more and more distant.

Unaware of her mother's watchful concerned gaze. Angie ran her fingers over the book in her lap. With a sigh, she was coming to the disheartening realization that true love only happens in books.

“Is anyone hungry? I can find a place where we could grab something quick to eat,” Nicole said.

“I'm tired of fast food,” Angie muttered unenthusiastically. “That's all we've eaten for the past week.”

“Wow, Angie. I never thought I'd hear a teenager say those words,” Nicole said while looking in the rear view mirror again. “Are you feeling okay?”

“No, I'm not okay. I want to go home.”

“Please Angie. Let's not get into this again. I know this trip has been long and exhausting. But please give me a break,” Nicole 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 argue about this again. I'm going to ...”

“What?” 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 hell 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.

“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 another pep talk, Mom. Or a new beginning. And certainly not in some little hick town,” huffed Angie, folding 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 put my phone back. We need to save the batteries. It'll soon be dark and I have a feeling that it's going to rain. And 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.”

“It was a long time ago, and I was five years old. But rest assured, we're not lost,” Nicole 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 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. “I don't understand why I have to pay the price for dad's mid-life crisis?” She muttered to her reflection in the window.

“You sure whine a lot. Do you have PMS?” Riley unwisely diagnosed as she looked her sister over from head to toe. “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, while slowing the van to a stop along side of an enormous gate. At last they had arrived at their destination. In one synchronized motion three tired bodies twisted around in their seats. A twelve foot tall fence with a gate constructed of ornate ink-black ironwork stood before them.

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. She was too wound up to sit for another second. 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.

“This is your new home. Are you excited?” Nicole asked, as she 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 squeezed 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.

“I think you should have the honors,” said Nicole, waving the key to the locked gate.

Riley giggled with excitement as she retrieved the key and disengaged the heavy padlock hanging from the gate.

Prologue

2010-09-03T15:25:00.000-07:00

Beneath the Starry Sky
by J. A. Mathias
Prologue

Although it was noon on an early summer day, the sun was hidden behind heavy dark clouds. It was if a gloomy shroud had fallen over the valley.

And in the town's nursing home, a nurse entered a notation on a patient's chart. A few seconds later a doctor rushed into the room. "How is she?" He asked as he gazed at the elderly, frail-looking woman, laying motionless upon her bed.

"She's been very agitated and confused," the nurse replied as she handed over the clipboard.

He quickly reviewed the morning's updates. Then he turned his attention to his friend, Cathleen Roselli, an eighty-nine year old woman who lingered between life and death. Her sheet-covered chest had a faint rise and fall, her papery skin the pallor of gray ash, and dark shadows outlined her sunken eyes.

Reaching down he gently caressed the limp hand that lay motionless on the bed. "Cathleen. Can you hear me?"

Though her eyes remained closed, she tossed her head from side to side. Her parched lips trembled as her weak voice suddenly spoke. "Has it been discovered?"

Raising one dark bushy eyebrow, the doctor turned his eyes questioningly towards the nurse. "She's been like this all morning," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"It waits," continued the dying woman's voice from the bed. "The secret waits beneath the starry sky." Then a bout of coughing convulsed through her withering body, subduing any further words.

"It's alright Cathleen," the doctor said with concern as he retrieved a plastic pitcher from her nightstand. "Let me moisten your lips with a little ice. Would you like that?" He didn't wait for an answer as he retrieved an ice-cube. Then gently he pressed it to her lips.

Abruptly she opened her eyes, revealing irises the color of violets. Reaching out with her gnarled arthritic fingers, she grasped his hand with surprising strength. "The secret! Has it been discovered?" She asked with desperation in her voice, her eyes anxiously focusing on his face.

Even after their forty years of friendship, he felt astonishment looking into those beautiful eyes. "Secret? I'm a afraid I don't understand what you are trying to say,"he said, leaning closer.

Cathleen released her grip letting her hand fall back upon the bed. A wisp of a smile formed. "It's so very simple," she replied as her eyes welled with moisture. "It's the beginning." Then a solitary tear formed, rolling slowly down her cheek.

Her strength now sapped, her voice fading to a mere whisper, "Our lives are meaningless if not remembered. Time does that, you see. People forget."

"I'm sure it will be found," he replied, in an attempt to calm her.

Then for an instant, was that relief that spread across her tired face? But as quickly as it had come, it too was gone, as her eyes were drawn from him towards the foot of her bed. Using the last bit of her energy, she raised her head a few inches from the pillow. Her beautiful violet eyes sparkled with overjoyed amazement. "Alice," she softly uttered. Then she lowered her head and exhaled her last breath.

"At last they are together again," the doctor murmured with a smile.

But for Cathleen, 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 and faithfully finished the remaining task. But still she feared that the secret would be carried with her to the grave. It was at the moment of death, her spirit chose to remain.

So in that very instant, ten miles away, in the 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 transform 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.