by Zoey Kane
“Oh, we have to change our shoes?”
“Yes, you’ll need something for a bit of hiking.”
“Oh.” Claire perked up. “Okay. I’m game. I could use a nature walk, after being cooped up in Manhatten so long.”
A man stood in the midst of The Chamber of Commerce, and made some brief announcement, before starting his presentation on customer service. When he specifically settled on the topic of retaining clients, he asked the crowd to share advice. A voice called out, “Ask Zoey Kane!”
All eyes again returned to their table. Zo wiped her mouth in surprise. “It’s okay. I’m just eating. I have no advice.” She waved the thought away.
“That’s because the only client she has is herself,” a woman said loud enough for all to hear. The room erupted with laughs. Zo felt her face flush, and spotted the perpetrator as Penny of all people, who was really laughing it up with her tablemates.
“That’s rude,” Claire said, not caring if anyone heard that comment.
“I think that was the point.” Zo felt her regular color return to her face. “Penny is the queen of passive aggressiveness, if you hadn’t already noticed, dear.”
“Hey, Zoey,” another woman called out, “I have a bridge to sell you.”
More chuckles, and someone else piped in, “I know the name of a Nigerian prince who can loan you money!”
The teasers might as well have been doubled over and rolling on the floor at this point, each congratulating each other on their remarks. All the while, the head of The Chamber stood at the front, quietly annoyed.
“This is terrible,” Claire said, feeling heat rise within. From years of standing at the head of tough board room meetings at Eye Witness Magazine, she was suddenly prepared to confront The Chamber head on. She stood up, straightened her blouse over her velour pants, and said, “That’s enough! What has my mother done to deserve such remarks? So she enjoys considering the possibilities of unique investments. So do I.”
“You didn’t hear?” Penny said more smug than ever before, still sitting.
Claire’s eyes focused on the asp in the grass, and Zo said, “Oh, oh. This is sure to be part of my surprise. What I am going to show you after this.”
Penny finished, “She bought eighty acres of nothingness, right next to the town’s dump.”
That news made Claire speechless a moment, as her business savvy was seriously appalled at such information. She blinked a few times, before saying, “I don’t think that is any of your business. In fact, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”
Everyone was silent thereafter. The Chamber tried to resume its meeting as if nothing awkward just happened. The chairman even remarked that business, and the economy, is tough on everyone lately, to try and bring peace to the situation. Zo suggested they just leave already, but Claire was immovable: “We are staying and enjoying the rest of our meal.”
Thankfully, The Chamber finished up their meeting and started meandering out the door before Zo and Claire finished their desserts. They were finally able to have some time to relax alone over ice cream cones.
A man with a toupee hesitantly walked over to their table, fidgeting with his tie.
“Hello, boss!” Zo beamed. “How are you?”
“Well, um, Zoey, that’s what I wanted to come over here to talk to you about. And I apologize, because I see your lovely daughter is here with you, but I’d like to have a moment with you for just a sec.”
“Go ahead,” Claire agreed, and Zo stood up to go talk to him in a booth across the way. Recently being fired herself, Claire was familiar with the apologetic look in the man’s eyes as he shook his head, and centered his focus on a ketchup bottle half the time.
At the end of their conversation, Zo slowly nodded, and put the strap of her purse back over a shoulder in acceptance. The man left and Claire approached her mother with a heavy heart. She gave her a hug. “Don’t worry, Mom. It seems we have a lot in common. Let’s go.” She patted her mother. “And this too shall pass.”
“At least I have you,” Zo said. “That’s most important, you know. As long as I have you, things can’t get any worse at this point.”
*
The tow truck drove out of the lot, pulling a beat up, white van. The repo man yelled out the driver’s side window, “Sorry, Zoey!” and took off down the road.
“Crud!” She dropped to the curb and put her head in her hands. A couple of men from Millers Realty Group were driving out of the parking lot together and paused in front of Zo and Claire. The passenger side window lowered on the Cadillac, and the one at the wheel asked, “Was that your van, Zo?”
She nodded and answered, “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
The guy actually looked a little compassionate. “Just as a word of advice for your sake, Zo—you would do far better if you did more selling than buying.” He closed the window and his passenger laughed as they drove away.
“Did we do something awful in a past life?” Claire sat down with her, sighing. “My car won’t be out of the shop for a couple more days.”
Zoey dialed her neighbor, but her phone just rang and rang. She shut the cell, put her head in her hands. Tears streamed down her expressionless face.
“Who else can we catch a ride with?” Claire asked.
Just then a blue garbage truck pulled up to the curb.
*
Zo squished between the garbage man and her daughter, feeling the cross breeze through the doorless truck ruffle her hair. She ignored the desire to pinch her nose in disgust. The scent of their load wasn’t pleasant, to say the least, but there was nothing she could really do about that. There wouldn’t be a Christmas tree air freshener large enough to eliminate its stink of rotting food and dirty diapers. “Thanks, Max,” she said, truly grateful.
The old man nodded. “No problem. Anything for you, Miss Zo.” They drove away from the Homestyle Buffet, down a lonely road. “I have some stops to make on the way, but I’ll get you home soon enough.”
Just their luck, it seemed like down every street, at least one resident was outside: mowing their grass, fixing up their flower bed, walking their dog. The news would surely spread about the embarrassment at the buffet, and subsequently the news about the repossession of what was a junk of an automobile anyway.
Closer to home, they stopped at a curb that had three bags of garbage, beside a trash can. Max’s energy was running low; he was seen stretching his back. Claire set her purse at her feet, and then hopped down to the pavement. “We can help you out.”
“Ah, you ladies don’t have to do that,” Max said, coming over. But it was evident his advanced age really wasn’t doing him any favors.
Before he could protest further, Claire hefted two bags, and Zo grabbed the remaining one. Claire set hers down in the truck’s back lift. Zo was ready to drop hers down, too, when a red Lexus drove up, pulling right into the home’s driveway. She knew that car; the decals advertising Green Tree Realty were hard to miss around town. Out stepped Penny, who put her shades up on her dark hair, looking absolutely amused. “Hello.” She waved, her smile broadening.
Zo stepped back and dropped the bag, keeping her eyes on the woman in embarrassment. “Just helping out Max,” she said.
The woman stayed by her car, and asked, “So this isn’t your new job?”
Claire stepped beside her mom, looking back and forth between the two, ready to jump into the situation any moment.
“No, no.” Zoey smiled brightly. “I just do this for free.”
“Well, have fun with that.”
“I will.”
Just then the truck’s lift came to life. Zo hadn’t realized in the middle of the confrontation that she had stepped into the mechanism by accident. The strange motion she felt, from it raising her up, she just thought to be the effects of her world metaphorically starting to crumble beneath her.
Penny’s eyes widened, and Claire burst out, “Mother!”
Zo snapped out of it, and nearly toppled o
ut in surprise. She reached down and gripped the sides of the lift in worry. “Max! Stop!”
Claire ran over to the driver’s side, but it was too late. Penny watched Zoey get dumped right into the truck’s heap of junk. Zoey popped her head up out of the stinky bed, a banana peel adorning her hair like a homeless woman’s barrette.
“That’s more like it,” Penny said, laughing, before snapping a photo with her cell phone.
“Penny Simcox!” Zo growled. “You’ve crossed the line. We can’t be frenemies any more.”
THREE
The 1980’s Datsun bucked and sputtered as Zo slowed and then parked the car. “It’s not the greatest, but neither was my van.”
Claire gave a sympathetic smile. “That Max guy is so nice letting you borrow it today. I just hope it doesn’t keel over while we’re using it.”
“True that.”
In the distance to their left, was an old and rusty industrial location. To their right were acres of overgrown wilderness. There was a tall, black iron gate sitting a few feet away, guarding the overgrowth. They walked to the gate along a cracked and uneven sidewalk, watching their step along the way.
Claire craned her neck to look up to the top of the rust-speckled barrier. Nothing else was in sight but the monstrous gate and chaotic green growth. She was not feeling optimistic, but decided to try to look like whatever her mom wanted to show her was wonderful in some sort of way.
“Surprise!” Zo smiled with great energy.
“You bought Stephen King’s fence?”
“Well, and a bit of land.”
“How much land was that again?”
“Approximately eighty acres. It is described as a hill.”
Claire couldn’t hold back the look of feeling further disappointment, as her eyebrows raised and her lips stayed zipped tightly.
“Oh, now settle down. This is exciting. I haven’t even tromped through this land yet. You and I together will be the very first time. That is why I told you to wear long pants and sturdy shoes.”
“You don’t even know what it all looks like? Mother? This is on the east side of the river: the downtrodden, worse than ghetto, poor and unkempt area. Nobody ever has reason to travel to this side of town. It’s a ‘no no.’ There are even horrible urban ghost stories about this area.” So much for the “wonderful” pretense. She immediately felt guilt wash over her, knowing that Penny and the others already did a thorough job of making her mother feel miserable.
“Yes, I admit, I have heard those stories, too. And I do believe in ghosts, but I thought you didn’t, my dear.”
Claire cocked her head. “You’re right. I don’t, but—” She stopped herself, not wanting any more regrets.
Zo unzipped a compartment to her faux-snakeskin purse to reveal an old, large key. “This is it, Claire. Let’s have some fun.”
They each struggled to turn the key in the lock, and then struggled to push open each side of the gate enough to squeeze themselves through. The tangled weeds didn’t help at all. After closing it back up, they made sure to re-lock it… just because of Zo’s protective instinct.
They continued their journey, following what little bit of broken-up, paved road they could perceive through all the fallen branches, brush, twigs, sticks and stickers. Much of the stickers were goat heads—the thorniest.
Up along the way, Zo’s eyes caught glimpse of several stone structures plotted in the earth. They walked off the path for a moment to investigate. Claire pushed weeds down and away from the plots to see. “William Fillmore, 1847 to 1908.” Another read, “Julian Fillmore, 1840 to 1918.” There were other members of a Fillmore family as well.
Each of the headstones had been engraved with so much care. A couple of them had angels carved in graceful solace, while others boasted ornate crosses.
“Look at the beauty of this, Mother. Only a Michelangelo could produce such beauty from stone.”
“I agree. It is marvelous…” A large angel held a tablet that read, “The Fillmore family cemetery.”
That gave the journey a bit of an awe moment; but, as they continued their walk, Zo needed to rest several times. They had been hiking slowly uphill, and Claire would have to stop and wait for her to keep up. And the more they walked, the sadder Claire became. She couldn’t stop thinking about what a waste this buy had been… how her mom could have invested money in some other business.
“How long have we been walking?” asked Zo.
“A while. I’m not sure.”
Zo’s face was slightly red from exhaustion.
“Mom, take this.” Claire pulled a water bottle out of her purse. “Drink it all.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be okay.”
It seemed to get steeper the more they walked. Then suddenly, the hill leveled out into a plateau. For a while, the trek felt like it went slightly downhill. “We should have driven, I suppose,” Zo finally said.
“Yeah… If we had some kind of back road trail blazer vehicle!”
Zo took a moment to put her hands on her knees and lower her head to gasp in air. The long walk, and now hot sun, was tiring her out.
Claire turned to help. “Are you okay? Maybe we should turn back, go to the car and leave. I don’t think there’s anything to this land that we haven’t seen already.”
But when Zo stood up and looked down into the mist below, a cloud suddenly moved and swept away, revealing something dark and magnificent. “Oh, my!”
FOUR
Claire looked in the direction her mother was staring. “Wow! What is that?”
Zo took binoculars out of her purse. She looked through them and smiled with an occasional “oh!” Then she handed them to Claire.
There, in the distance, stood an enormous structure, consisting of three stories. Large, dirty windows and stained glass artfully spread across its wide face like clouded gemstones. The attic’s several small windows reminded Claire of portholes to a ship. Stones of many shapes and hues decorated the base, set in cement mortar. Sturdy, wooden panels striped their way across the house, though the white paint job was starting to peel away. Birch and willow trees were leaning, weeping and bowing to the estate, protectively concealing its residence. The double-door entrance was tall and black with antique brass knockers.
Tattered with time, green awnings shaded many of the windows. One awning had completely unhinged itself on one side, leaving the other end to hold on while it rapped against the window it once protected. The sound was unnerving as it echoed from the distance.
“Mother, this can’t be yours. It can’t really be yours.”
“Well, of course it is. Why not?”
After some walking, they approached the front doors. Zo anxiously looked around to find a key somewhere. The gate key, of course, didn’t work. “Come on, let’s try another entrance.”
They went through the jungle of overgrowth and trees, moving branches out of their way with every step. The back yard’s remnants told them it once had a well-manicured garden. Pots, which once held live plants, sat in order, and sculptures covered in ivy gleamed out around them. Zo and Claire were careful where to step so they wouldn’t stumble.
They spotted another building, which was short in width and long in length. It was a few yards away, successfully camouflaged within the overgrown brush because of its green paint job. Zo walked over to it, and Claire followed. There were windows, but they were too high up for them to look through. Even if they could, they realized that the windows were too dark, masked in layers of old dust. There were a couple sets of large double doors, much larger than the front door of the residence.
“What do you think is in there?” Claire clutched an old and rusty and large lock to a set of doors. “Storage?”
“Sure, that could be it. Maybe a workshop?” Zo pressed a palm of her hand against a door.
“We could probably break through this lock, if we had the right tool to do so.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to break anythin
g. Let’s hurry and see if we can first get inside the house. Then, maybe, we can think about this place and how else we can enter.”
They came to one of the estate’s back doors. A torn screen and cobwebs guarded it. Claire tried her luck this time at the latch. To her surprise, it amazingly opened. They quietly stepped inside to a kitchen.
The kitchen had a couple of large gas ranges and there was even a rotisserie set-up between them. There wasn’t just one sink but three, right next to each other. Two refrigerators were wider than any they had seen at Sears in their lifetimes. Walk-in refrigerators, Zo thought. Large pots and pans hung above the center of the kitchen stoves, and other than being dusty, they looked to be clean and in good condition. They had fun going through the many drawers, finding real silverware, china and heavy crystal glasses.
Zo took a moment to open a little ornate bowl that sat on a counter by itself. Three little sugar cubes greeted her. “How would you like some tea with these three little hundred-year-old sugar cubes?”
“This place must be well over a hundred years old, Mother, and yet, everything is still in its place. It’s amazing.”
Zo’s eyes were wide in excitement. “Let’s continue looking through the rest of this place!”
They pushed open the swinging, double kitchen doors to meet the center of the house. It seemed to be almost an acre by its length and width. Tapestries hung side by side, climbing the tall walls. There was so much space around them; the air felt unreal. The foyer was like a grand hall. Looking up, they beheld a large crystal chandelier hanging gracefully, still glittering with its thousands of cut beaded crystals. If they really paid attention, they would discern the faint and surreal sound of wind chimes coming from the chandelier. In the center of the foyer, a deep mahogany staircase, carved in splendor, unwrapped itself up to the two other stories.
Zo gripped the banister in excitement. “Hurry. Let’s see the rest of this place.”
They quickly climbed the stairs. They stopped in the center of the hallway on the second floor. It appeared that the hallway led to a west wing and an east wing.
