The Secrets of Oakley House

by S. A. Robinson

  “What is up with this house that you aren’t telling me?” Mariah asked bluntly.

  “Mariah, some have said that the so-called infestation was evil spirits and that the house is haunted,” Liza whispered, as she put on her pale green blazer and headed for the doors.

  “I don’t believe in ghosts. Much less in evil spirits,” Mariah guffawed as they left the coffee shop.

  Mariah followed Liza through town. Half a mile outside of the official city lines was a shabby looking gravel road, the kind that sends rocks flying in all directions if you drive more than two miles per hour. Three minutes after turning onto this sorry excuse of a road, they hit a huge gate. All her years here and she never knew this gate existed. Though, she wasn’t much into sneaking out and partying as a teen, so she probably didn’t know about a lot of the creepy hangouts or roadside hiding places.

  Liza got out and went to a huge padlock attached to the gate. She entered the numbers and popped it open. Mariah followed her up the long driveway, which was also shitty gravel. She could see her dad grimace in her mind. If he could see what she was driving his truck on, he would be griping about scratching the paint or chipping the windows. Gritting her teeth, she carried on up the drive. Liza finally stopped and Mariah pulled up beside her and rolled down the car window.

  “This is as far as I’m going,” she stated boldly. “You may not believe in evil spirits, but I do, and I am not taking that stuff home with me today, or any day. I will wait for you here. Just keep going straight, you won’t miss it. It's unlocked. No one messes with that house so it’s good to go.” Liza turned off her car, unbuckled, and leaned her seat back to take a nap while Mariah carried on alone.

  “I suppose I will show myself the house then,” Mariah said to herself. “What a waste of money. How are you going to take a commission off a house sale when you refuse to show the house?” Shaking her head, she drove Betty slowly towards the unknown.

  After two maybe three minutes the house started to come into view. Wow! That is all she could think. The driveway changed to brick, it wound up through thick trees and bushes forming a stunning circular pattern in front of the home. On the side, there was an old carriage house. The house was tall, it looked like it was way more than three stories, but Mariah remembered the file saying that there was no attic. Just like the photos she had seen, there was a beautiful tower on one side making this old Victorian home look more like a castle. Mariah was obsessed with the house already and she hadn’t even stepped out of the truck.

  Walking up the front steps it was obvious right away that this house needed repairs. The front porch needed to be leveled badly. If the brick steps were slanted, then there were definitely structural issues to be addressed. All those issues fell to the wayside because as she stepped through the threshold into the entryway of this house, Mariah knew right then and there that she was going to buy this house; haunted or not.

  The entry was stunning, old and slightly decrepit, but beautiful. Hardwood floors spanned the entire lower level for as far as she could see. There was a high vaulted ceiling, and doors leading off into other rooms. One led to a sitting room, another to the kitchen. She ventured through the house, not really seeing everything but just making sure she would be able to live there while she worked on the restoration. She was so oblivious to the belongings around her, the dusty old furniture, the paintings on the walls, and the lack of personality in the bedrooms. The house was pretty, but strangely dull. Dust covered everything, and what wasn’t covered in dust was covered instead with dusty white sheets. Each room had a huge fireplace and soot still lingered in some of them. There were pipes and wires around some areas of the floor, likely from when they updated some things in the nineties. The stairs were wide, they wound upwards to all the levels, opening up to each floor like a maze. She could see all the way to the very top floor from the bottom, which she found to be thrilling.

  Mariah walked through the kitchen, poked around the back and front yard, measured for appliances, and started a small notebook of things that needed to be done first. After about an hour she decided she had seen enough and headed back to Betty. She was sure that she could offer a lower price than the sellers were asking, though with the acreage maybe one hundred thousand was a fair price. It was, after all, the history of the house that she wanted, and history was priceless in her eyes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  That was it, seeing the house one time and Mariah was ready to sign her soul away to the mortgage company. The sellers didn’t show up to the signing of the contract or any other meetings leading up to the final days before the sale. They wanted nothing to do with the house that their family had owned for over a century. Even Liza wouldn’t go with her for the final walkthrough of the house and mapping of the property lines. It saddened Mariah that people could be afraid of a simple house, as though it was personally offending them.

  Mariah was in love with the place. She hadn’t shown it to her mother yet, wanting to fix it up a bit before she visited. The house was most definitely not level, and the last thing anyone needed was for her mom to fall and sprain or break something again. Her first goal was to have a contractor come out to boost the house up and level out the foundation. That would give her a good starting point in order to assess the next stage of projects.

  Mariah knew she should stay with her mom until the house was more livable, but over the last few weeks, her mother had driven her crazy, nagging her about finding the right man, and trying to set her up with nice guys from church. She finally broke down two nights ago and told her that she likes women, not men. Her mother had yet to speak to her since, except for a few notes on the fridge that said she was going to church to pray for her and would see her later. Damn, Mariah wished her dad was around to knock some sense into her mom. She assumed her mom would get over it eventually, Mariah is all she has left with dad gone. Her mom has a brother somewhere, but they don’t ever speak. The last Mariah heard about her uncle was when she was ten. Mom and dad were arguing over him showing up at her grandmother’s funeral. Small town things. Everyone told her it was because he was doing drugs, and no one wanted him around the kids. He was the family pariah. He wasn’t even invited to her dad’s funeral which Mariah thought was a horrible decision. Funerals are when families should be together to support each other.

  Mariah had left a note on the front door for her mom, saying today was signing day for her house and afterwards she was moving her stuff over and would be by to visit over the weekend. She already had Mariah’s new cell number so there was no need to leave that. Mariah simply signed it with “I Love you” and left.

  She was so giddy to sign for the house she almost forgot which car to take. Her mom gave her full rights to drive Betty whenever she wanted, but the truck was staying in her name until she said otherwise. As much as Mariah loves Betty, the little truck wasn’t going to fit all of her stuff, so she opted to take her Nissan instead, knowing she would eventually come to switch it for the truck.

  After signing, unpacking the car, and hiking everything up the steps to the porch, Mariah finally opened the door to her very own little piece of history. This was so exciting.

  She noticed a note on the floor that had been pushed through the mail slot. She bent to pick it up noticing it was from the contractor saying that he had been by and assessed the house, and he would be out Monday to start working on jacking up the foundation. That gave her the whole weekend to get settled in. Several appliances were being delivered in a few hours, and then she would need some groceries to kick off the weekend. “Happy Friday to me,” she called out through the empty house, then tossed her keys down by the door and kicked off her shoes. As her shoes slid across the floor to the wall, she looked around and re-evaluated that choice, the floors need a good sanding and cleaning, it was probably a good idea to keep her shoes on until she was able to get that project completed. Sliding them back on, she also made a note to hang a key and coat hook by the front door. Then she headed for the b
athroom, not able to hold it any longer.

  There were two bathrooms in the house, one on the first floor and one on the second. Mariah would have liked for there to only be a half bath on the first floor, but she could eventually find a way to make use of the tub area for something like a mudroom. She was entirely happy that each bathroom was equipped with running water, a toilet, and a cast-iron clawfoot bathtub. No shower heads though, that sucks. Bubble baths would have to do for the foreseeable future. There were much more pressing projects than adding showerheads to the bathrooms. The ancient toilets for example. She honestly did not think toilet paper was a thing when these were installed. The hole is so tiny even a little pebble could clog it. New toilets were going to be needed, and soon.

  Mariah’s adventures around the house were short-lived, as the delivery guys called to say they were arriving two hours ahead of schedule. Not that she minded, she would love to get groceries and be in for the day. Peeking out the front window and seeing them driving up the brick driveway, Mariah headed out to greet them, but they stopped just short of the front porch. She immediately knew what was wrong.

  They think the house has bad juju just like Liza. This town has an issue with the unknown. They read too many damn ghost stories.

  Mariah exhaled, walked outside and waved them up to the porch. They looked petrified. After negotiating the terms of delivery, which shouldn’t have even been a thing, Mariah managed to talk them into bringing the appliances into the house, but not setting them up. They don’t want to “disturb the house” they both had said.

  Whatever. She would just keep their tip to herself then, wouldn’t want to “disturb her wallet.” She giggled at her silent wit and stood back while they unloaded her kitchen and laundry appliances. Stupid scaredy-cat men, absolute babies, she thought to herself, shaking her head.

  Getting groceries went much faster than expected. Not much is needed when you're alone. She grabbed some fresh fruit and veggies to make her mom happy, knowing they would probably end up in the trash by next week. Some peanut butter and syrup for old times’ sake. Chips, milk, water, and cereal completed the list aside from a few basic toiletries. Finished shopping in record time, Mariah headed home to work on unpacking and setting up a section of the house to live in while renovating. She bought thick tarps to hang in the area she chooses so that when sanding and such begins, her bed and clothes would stay somewhat clean. Basically, she would be living in a bubble for an unforetold number of weeks or even months. Hopefully the former.

  Mariah decided to set up shop on the second floor. Aside from the fridge and stove in the kitchen, she would only need to be on the first floor while working on the house or doing laundry. She still hadn’t investigated the house much. The buying process and moving in was rushed and she felt like she should take a day or two to look around more thoroughly. The house was huge, and it would take some time to find all the nooks and crannies. Knowing from experience that old houses often have hidden spaces, she felt sure that there was a way to access the attic. Her gut told her that there had to be something up there other than insulation.

  Mariah made dinner, set up the tarps, and blew up an air mattress she had bought to get by until her new bedroom furniture was delivered. Plugging in an old television she found in one of the rooms' closets, she surfed the local channels for something to watch, eventually ending up on the news. Boring, drama-laden news. She could fall asleep to it though; the noise would definitely make it easier to sleep all alone, in a new place with new sounds. She was not scared per-se, but Liza told her to keep a bag packed by the door just in case she needed to “get out quickly.” That sounds like too much trouble for an old silly house, so that would not be happening. Tomorrow she would go peeking around the house and property lines to see what fun she could dig up on the story of the house. There has to be something other than what Liza had in the file to shed more light on who built and owned this home. It’s out there, and Mariah was determined to find it. As a history professional, she knew how to research the hell out of things and find answers.

  Drifting off to sleep, she let herself think about her father and how much he would have loved this house and all the adventures it holds within its walls. She found herself wishing he could be there to help rejuvenate the place and celebrate general adulthood. Kicking mom into gear with forgiveness would also be a perk. Just before dosing off completely, Mariah shot a text to her mom, “Goodnight momma,” she typed, with a big heart emoji. “Good night dad,” she whispered to her big empty house.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mariah woke up covered in sweat lying flat on the floor, the air had gone out of the mattress leaving it empty with her still on top. She was not entirely sure how, but she must have managed to not plug the deflate hole properly and it must have popped open when she rolled over at some point in the night. She got up slowly, her back now sore from laying on the hard floor and walked into the bathroom to splash water on her sweat-soaked face. Mariah was sure she had left the fan on pointed at her bed, but it was unplugged when she woke, leaving her room stifling hot. The house was fitted with air conditioning at some point in the nineties, but before running that she wanted to get the vents cleaned. Open windows and fans would be her best friend until the cleaners could fit her on their schedule.

  Making quick work of her face, she walked back to her room. The television channel that she had left on for the night was now nothing but fuzz. Mariah was not surprised by that at all, with no cable she only had use of the antenna, and local channels end after a certain time. Mariah blew the mattress back up and glanced at her phone. Her mom had messaged her back, her heart jumped a beat as she saw, “I love you, ladybug, always will.”

  Love you too momma, she thought to herself. It was far too late to text back; she didn’t want to wake her mom up just to end up having to talk to her about the mattress deflating and waking up covered in sweat. She could say one thing though, better to wake up covered in sweat than freezing cold. She may have been a little more inclined to hear the ghost stories Liza had kept to herself. Mariah laid there for a few hours just thinking about life, mostly missing her dad and wondering what life would be like had he not died so suddenly.

  She didn’t remember falling asleep again, but she must have because she was startled awake, who knows how long after, to little scratching sounds. She jumped up, her bedding flying everywhere. She was not going to have mice, or worse, rats running around in her house, Hell-to-the-no! She flipped the lights on and turned around in circles looking for the little rodent. There was nothing. Not even so much as a tiny little mark in the dust on the floors. Crossing her fingers, she walked to the bathroom to check there. Again nothing.

  Chalking it up to the idea that she must just be hearing things or dreaming, she shut the lights off and went back to bed, not processing the strange feeling she got as she did so. This was beginning to feel like the longest night ever. She had forgotten to get some of her mom’s perfume to spritz around so she would have a familiar smell. Maybe her mom will let her have a few of her dad’s old shirts she wondered as she laid back down for the last hour or two of the night, though she could clearly see the sun coming up through the crevices of the ugly curtains.

  The next day flew by. Mariah spent most of it napping, eating, and generally relaxing in her little bubble. Sunday was a different story. She woke up early to the sound of small scurries like the ones she had heard before. Whatever it is living there, it has some seriously long nails. The scratching sound was much louder than the previous night. It sounded as if the mouse or rat had moved its entire family in. This time she was sure it was coming from the far side of the house, inside the wall. She contemplated adopting a cat, that would take care of this problem in the fastest way, but the dead bodies of rodents all over the house was not exactly at the top of her wish list.

  Mariah ventured around outside, writing down plans of what needed or what she wanted to do with the exterior as she went along.

  The pr
operty came with several acres of land. While investigating the property, she found she was the proud owner of a very overgrown pond. It looked deep, but that would need to be assessed to be sure. After more nosing around, Mariah was also able to uncover a small boat buried in the brush about fifteen feet from the pond. The boat was old, that much was for sure. It was likely from the early nineties if she had to guess. It needed to be sanded and repainted but other than that there didn’t look to be any holes or other damage. It was a pale green color, and there was a lovely name painted along the side, “Emelia.” Mariah was certain she would be able to fix her up after she finished the house. Maybe she could fish in her pond she thought happily as she continued looking around.

  The pond was by far not the only interesting thing she found. In the trees that surround parts of the house, she found a few small huts. She had no idea they existed because they weren’t in any of the plans she had received when she bought the house. They were run down and barely noticeable unless you ventured upon them. They looked as though they had been there for centuries with no upkeep. The history junkie inside of her started going nuts. Somewhere there had to be information on this property. She just needed to find it.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening poking around the inside of the house. Whoever lived here last left all of their belongings behind. Mariah refused to sleep in an old, janky used bed, much less use someone’s old towels and linens. She had packed up all the things in the room she was staying in and put them neatly into one of the other rooms. Today she decided to go through some of the boxes. She had found so many things that could fetch a pretty good price on eBay and many more that she could sell to museums or antique shops. Nothing, however, that gave any clue as to who the owners of the house were or even if there were more hut-type places located elsewhere on the property. What she found was just a bunch of vintage items; they were neat none-the-less.