by G. F. Frost
“Sorry, Mister Grant. I’ll get the call. Make yourself at home,” she said as she rose to answer the house phone.
It was Mrs. Purdue. She was calling to thank Massey for having her and her family over for Thanksgiving. She talked about Sadie and how she enjoyed her company so very much. She complimented Massey on every aspect of the day, the food, the décor, and the guests. She was very much a southern lady, Massey thought. All southern ladies know how to compliment their hostesses.
Mister Grant had walked out on the back veranda and was placing his dusty cap back on his head when Massey approached him.
“Thank you for removing those boards. If you hadn’t helped me, I’d never have found that old safe. I’m so excited to see what’s inside,” she said to the man.
“Enjoyed lunch. Let me know what’s in that safe when ya get it open.” Mister Grant stepped into the back yard.
Massey didn’t know what she could do for the rest of the day to keep herself busy enough to keep the safe off her mind. She was so impatient. That’s a quality she was happy she hadn’t passed on to Sadie. Sadie, like her dad, was as patient as the day was long. It almost annoyed Massey to think of it.
She kept herself busy throughout the afternoon by washing clothes and changing sheets, typical housework. Jenkins and his ball used up an hour or so in the back yard, but the day just didn’t seem to go by quickly enough for Massey. There was definitely no need to cook dinner with all the leftovers crowding her refrigerator, so she decided to read some of the copied pages that she had from her trip to Tulane. Now that seemed like ages ago. She read over the parts about Joseph’s father and mother, she pulled out the land plots and the deeds and perused them, and she even looked at some of old tintype photographs that she had brought down from the trunks in the attic months earlier. As interesting as it all was, it didn’t keep her mind off the safe.
As she was tucking away all the pages into their folders and the folders into one of Theo’s desk drawers, Massey heard a knock at the back door. As she walked through the kitchen, she could see Mister Grant standing just outside the glass of its window. He must have forgotten something. Massey opened the door and invited him back in. He stood there looking at his dirty boots.
“I think I’ll just stand here,” he said as he stomped each foot against the floorboards of the porch, sending dust flying.
“Miss Massey, Mister Theo had me haul this big old mirror out to the barn a while back, and he said I could do whatever I wanted with it. He said that he didn’t want to see it no more. I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I took it. I thought I might be able to sell it in town, if you don’t want it. I know how women are about them antiques,” he said as he looked into Massey’s face.
“The standing mirror? The mahogany one?” she asked looking towards the barn. She hadn’t asked Theo what he had done with it when it came up missing after the house blessing.
“Yes ma’am, I think that’s the one. Come see,” Mister Grant said as he headed for the barn.
Massey followed Mister Grant to the barn and saw the beautiful mirror standing proudly in the doorway. A sheet was hanging from one of the hinges. The carving of the baby’s face had never looked as lovely as it did there with the dark polished wood shining in the direct rays of the afternoon sun. She walked up to it and looked at her reflection. She felt a bit nervous and a bit sad as she ran her hand over the chubby little carved cupid on its top.
Massey stood thinking about everything she had seen and dreamed that involved the mirror. She wondered if Joseph had ordered a craftsman to make it especially for Marie or the baby. She imagined how many people had looked into it through the last century. She couldn’t imagine selling it at a junk shop in town; it was made for Lovesong House.
“Can you give me a day to think it over, Mister Grant? I just feel sad about separating the house from any of the original furnishings,” Massey said as she looked at him.
“Okay,” he replied as he covered the mirror with the sheet and moved it away from the door.
Massey didn’t know if she should keep the mirror or not. Any logical person off the street would insist on placing it in a room in the house where it belonged, but Massey couldn’t afford to be logical anymore. She felt concerned enough to want to get rid of it, but compelled to keep it. She would have to talk to Theo about it later; he would probably have a simple answer, get it out!
Theo came home a little earlier than usual because he wanted to see the old safe. Massey was excited to show him. He bent down into the eaves of the attic and looked at the shiny black and gold steel box. It was larger and newer looking than he had imagined. He squatted to the floor and tried to pull the lever to open it, but it was sealed tightly. He turned the combination mechanism back and forth until it clicked, but nothing released the door. He didn’t try to pull it away from its spot. He knew it would take a locksmith to reveal its contents. They would just have to wait.
Massey was too excited about her discovery to eat dinner that night. She went upstairs and took her bath while Theo ate. She wondered if she would be able to sleep at all. It was like having an enormous wrapped gift under the Christmas tree and having to wait to unwrap it. There was usually something unexpected inside, and she hoped that would be the case tomorrow. Either way, she was excited to have found it.
The dreams had been almost forgotten and the house had seemed nothing more than normal since the blessing a few weeks before, so Massey didn’t have anxiety about going to bed anymore. She and Jenkins joined Theo for a while in the parlor and when the terrible reality shows became more than she could bear, they went to bed. All too soon, the fact that she was living under a false sense of security confronted her. Very unexpectedly, the dreams returned.
Chapter Eighteen
Massey felt herself floating off the bed and hovering above Theo. She could see Jenkins sleeping on the pillow beside their bed. She floated stiffly above the furniture and floors through the open doorway and down the large wooden stairs. The front door slowly opened before her as she floated through the cold, dark night into the yard. The mossy arms of the great oaks were swaying a bit in the winds as she floated towards and passed the cemetery. She looked at the three graves near the rear of the fenced graveyard and saw the smoky, lighted mist hanging above Marie’s grave. As she watched, the doors of the barn flew open and she floated through the doors, dropping softly in her bare feet upon the cold damp dirt floor before the mirror. A violent gust of icy wind swept past her and blew the sheet from the antique-looking glass.
She stood watching the glass light up before her. The image of her bedroom was obvious again. Once more, it was her room as it had been years ago. She immediately recognized Joseph lying on the bed. His arms were folded on his chest and he looked pale. His lips were blue and silent, and his eyes gazed toward the ceiling lifeless. Massey knew he was dead. She could hear the hysterical wails of Marie, and then she appeared, frantically searching the room for something. Making her way to the small desk in the corner, she retrieved a sharp silver letter opener.
Massey wanted to scream for Marie to put it down, but nothing came. She tried to step into the mirror to stop her, but she could not move. She watched in horror as Marie walked to the bedroom door and turned the lock. Turning then to her husband, she made her way to the bed. As she lay on the bed beside the lifeless body of her husband, Marie began to stroke his dark hair. She kissed him gently on the forehead then the lips. She looked into his glassy eyes and reached her trembling fingers to them to close them. As they closed, she kissed him again.
Reaching for a pen and book on the side table, Marie began to write. She took her time writing carefully as tears flowed from her red eyes. From time to time, the sobs became louder and more helpless. She would stop and reach for Joseph. The pen finally stopped on the page and Marie placed it inside the book and set them both on the table. She looked at Joseph and reached down to kiss his cold lips once again. She took the letter opener from t
he table and slowly forced it deeply into her wrist. She flinched in pain and then watched as the blood began to pour from the deep gash. She took the object in her bloody hand and thrust it deeply into the other arm. Blood was shooting and pouring all over her. She looked again at Joseph and kissed him. Pulling her legs onto the bed beside her husband, Marie curled up closely to him, placing her head on his chest. She sighed as the blood poured from her wrists onto the still body of Joseph and onto the white sheets. She sighed again. Silence.
Massey watched the picture of the two dead lovers in the mirror. As it faded, she heard Marie’s voice whisper hauntingly in her ears.
“You will know when you read, Massey. Then you will know.”
Suddenly, Massey flew backwards rapidly through the barn doors, past the cemetery and the row of oaks, through the foyer door and up the stairs into her room, and dropped on her bed. She gasped as she landed on the soft mattress. She had felt the fall and had lost her breath. She gasped again. Waking, she looked around the room and tried to catch her breath. Jenkins raised his head. Theo moaned tiredly on the pillow next to her. She shuddered and pushed her body into his.
“You’re cold as an icicle!” Theo said as he raised his head to look at Massey.
She burrowed deeply under the covers behind him. She had pushed herself as far into him as she could. Theo pulled the comforter from the foot of the bed and covered her. He wondered why she would have such a chill when he needed barely a sheet to keep him warm tonight. She began to shake as Theo fell back to sleep. Massey didn’t want to sleep. She didn’t want to talk or walk or think. She just simply wanted to lie closely to Theo with the heavy covers over her head until the morning came.
Massey would not let herself sleep. She thought of the whispers Marie had sent to her in her dream as she lay dying. Massey didn’t know what any of it meant. She thought the dreams had left when they blessed the house. She would have to get the mirror off the grounds. It made her sad, but she couldn’t stand the dreams anymore. She didn’t know if the dreams were caused by the mirror or not, but she had to get rid of it. She would tell Mister Grant tomorrow. She didn’t need to ask Theo, she knew what she needed to do.
Just as she was thinking of giving Mister Grant and the mirror, she heard something above her in the attic. Massey listened carefully. She pulled the covers from her head and looked up at the ceiling. The sound was getting louder. Holding the comforter tightly to her chest, she listened as the rattling and banging echoed above her. Something was moving in the attic; there was a deep scraping or scratching sound along the floorboards. She watched as the ceiling fan over their bed began to shake. It sounded as if something heavy was moving from one end of the room to the other. The wood of the old floorboards screeched as if someone where tugging heavy pieces of metal against them and then came the footsteps. Massey lifted herself to the headboard and leaned against it, shaking under the heavy down comforter. The footsteps fell repeatedly one after another, heavy and deliberately up and down above her head. Bangs sounded as if someone was throwing things about.
Massey turned to Theo and shook him. He didn’t wake. She shook him harder.
“Wake up! Someone’s in the attic! Wake up, Theo!” she screamed.
“What? What’s wrong, Massey?” Theo asked angrily.
Massey pointed to the ceiling as he turned to her.
“Someone’s in the attic,” she whispered in his ear.
Theo sat up in bed and listened. The sounds had stopped.
“I don’t hear anything,” he said as he listened.
“I heard someone walking in the attic!” she whispered again.
Theo sat up and listened as he rubbed his eyes.
“Were you dreaming?” he asked.
Massey shook her head.
“Shush. Listen,” she said as she raised her finger to her mouth.
Theo lay back in the bed and patted her leg.
“Nothing can get into that attic. Maybe it was a squirrel or raccoon on the roof,” he said sleepily.
“You’re not going to check it?” Massey asked. “What if it’s a burglar?” she said nervously.
“It’s nothing, honey, go to sleep. Jenkins would have barked if a burglar was in the attic.” Theo closed his eyes.
“Don’t go to sleep.” Massey shook him.
“Okay, shit, I’ll go see!” Theo said as he rose from the bed.
Massey took a deep breath and watched as he stepped into his leather slippers and staggered out the bedroom door. She jumped from the bed, nearly landing on Jenkins, and followed Theo up the attic stairs. He walked slowly to the top and opened the door. Reaching inside, he turned on the dim light to the attic. Massey stood at the bottom of the stairs watching nervously.
“What the hell did you and Mister Grant do up here today, Massey?” Theo asked as he walked back to the door and looked down at her.
His eyes were red and swollen with sleep as he looked down at her.
“What do you mean? We pulled some wooden planks from a wall. I told you. You saw them,” she said as he walked towards her pulling the small creaky door closed behind him.
“Well, there’s no burglar in there, just a damn mess. I didn’t notice the mess you made when I was up there earlier today. Why did you throw things all over the room like that? It’s going to take days for us to straighten that mess out. What were you looking for?” he asked as he walked past her.
“What do you mean?” Massey asked as she looked up at the closed door at the top of the narrow stairs.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Everything in the attic is topsy turvy. It look like a tornado ravaged the entire room. Everything is strewn around and all the stuff in the trunks is scattered everywhere. All the furniture is scattered and upside down. What were you thinking?” he asked as he climbed back into the bed.
Massey began to cry. She knew that except for the planks that they had stacked near the safe, she had left everything in the attic in order. Everything was stacked neatly in rows along the walls when she last saw it. She knew someone had been in there tossing things about. She had heard them.
“We didn’t disturb anything today, Theo. I told you someone was up there,” she said as she began to cry.
“Shush, go back to sleep. You may need to be on hormones or something. Check into that, okay?” Theo said smartly as he climbed into the bed.
Massey stood at the foot of the bed looking at Theo. She wanted to see the attic for herself, but she was afraid. She looked at her husband lying quietly and comfortably on the bed. She wanted to hit him. For the first time in her marriage, she really wanted to hit him. He usually avoided making her look or feel foolish even when she knew she deserved it, but tonight he didn’t bother thinking of her feelings, he was too tired. She hated not being heard, not being believed. She especially hated being talked down to or treated like a child. She’d let him have it in the morning.
“Joseph wouldn’t have said that to Marie,” she whispered towards her sleeping husband.
Wiping the tears from her face, Massey climbed into bed and looked towards the ceiling. She wished Theo had heard all the commotion in the attic, instead of her. At least she would have believed him. Her eyes filled with tears again. Theo always believed her. He never made fun of her, not until they moved to Lovesong House. She lay back in the warm bed and waited for the sun.
* * * *
There was no lunch packed, no coffee made and no breakfast offered the next morning. Massey was still peeved by Theo’s remarks. She lay in bed listening for his truck to drive away. As it made its way toward the old river road, she jumped out of bed and went to the study. She remembered her dream and what Marie had whispered to her. Sitting on the study floor, Massey poured all the notes, photocopies, and pictures from her research on the family out on the floor in front of her. She read everything she could, looking over every page. She thought hard about everything that could have meaning to Marie even the notes from talking with Mrs. Purdue. Not
hing tied it all together.
Looking up at the clock on the wall, Massey thought of the locksmith and ran to her bedroom to get her clothes on. She couldn’t wait. Hopefully, there would be something in the safe, maybe jewelry or old money. She was excited to find out what lay inside and about calling Mrs. Purdue to let her know all about it. After all, she was the one who told Massey about the hidden safe. If not for her, Massey would have never searched for it.
She had a full pot of coffee made and waiting when the locksmith rang the doorbell. He wore a navy blue shirt and slacks, with a tool belt around his hips. Massey opened the door and introduced herself, anxiously welcoming the man inside. He stopped at the front door mat to wipe his feet. She could smell the spearmint gum on his breath as he spoke.
“I hear ya gotta safe that needs opening,” he said looking around the large foyer. “Man, I’ve always wanted to see the inside of this place. It’s really something. Everybody around here has heard stories about this old house. We used to drive up here at night when I was a teenager to see if we could see the ghosts, but nobody would ever get out of their cars. Don’t look haunted to me.” He popped the gum between his yellow teeth.
Massey stood before him not knowing how to respond.
“Well, I guess I’ll show you upstairs,” she said as she turned and led the man to the staircase.
“You folks must be loaded. They’ve been trying to sell this place for years. You know you could have tours here,” he said as he stopped at the top of the stairs and stretched his neck around to look into the rooms.
“It’s this way,” Massey said as she pointed towards the door leading to the attic.
Pulling up his tool belt, the man followed her up the narrow staircase. When she opened the door, she gasped. Boxes, paper, pictures, and furniture littered the entire room. It was as if marauding elephants had trampled through the room. Even the larger pieces of furniture lay on their sides and some were even upside down. Massey tried to step over the pictures and clothing at the door, but she lost her footing. Just before falling, the locksmith grabbed her by the arm and saved her.
