Spirits 04-Spirits of Seacliff Manor

by Morgan Hannah MacDonald

  The sun hung just above the horizon. Its rays danced along the water, making the waves glisten in a kaleidoscope of colors. Surfers sat on their boards, bobbing up and down until all at once they leaned forward and started paddling toward the shore.

  It was so exhilarating she wished they could sit in that spot forever, or at least until the surfers caught that wave. They were up! Well, two out of the three rode the crest of the wave. The last one crashed almost immediately.

  The truck started down the hill and she lost sight of the surfers. She quickly searched the horizon and noticed the sun had dipped below the surface of the water. Alyssa could have sworn she saw steam, but knew it was only a trick of the eye. The sun wasn’t actually being swallowed by the sea.

  Before long, everything disappeared behind the storefronts so she watched the pedestrians. A couple of young girls wearing bikini tops and shorts stood on the corner waiting to cross. One ran her hand through her long sun-bleached hair while the other hiked her oversized bag up on her shoulder.

  They talked animatedly. Alyssa imagined it was about boys; at their age that’s all they had to worry about. The truck passed the girls then drove over some railroad tracks before they headed south along a two-way road separated with eucalyptus trees. She found new interest in the funky shops passing on her right; bathing suits, a psychic, a dog groomer and a cute little café.

  A surf shop had a sign in the window declaring they sold Sex Wax. It couldn’t be what she imagined, but then again this was California so what did she know?

  Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

  They turned left at a signal, drove back over the railroad tracks and began to climb. Before long, Alyssa was staring at the most amazing homes she’d ever seen. They were all completely different from one another, nothing like the tract of cookie-cutter homes they’d lived in.

  There was a vine-covered cottage next to a modern house that resembled a white box with windows. There was a Spanish ranch-style home with beautiful bright flowers, then a Craftsman bungalow. The further they climbed, the more she relaxed.

  If their new house was anything like these, the worst thing she’d have to worry about was the housekeeping. How did one woman clean a place that big? In the movies they had maids and groundskeepers, but this wasn’t a movie.

  She and Brandon could not afford such an extravagance. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. Maybe Brandon was right, sheer luck brought them here today. Why not? They deserved it.

  The road ended at an eight-foot high black iron gate with spikes and emblazoned with the name Seacliff Manor. Two stone statues of lions appeared to guard the estate on either side of the entry.

  A four-foot high pillar made of brick sat on the left side of the drive. MacDougall was etched on the gold placard. On top was a black metal house. Brandon rolled down his window and opened the rusty door.

  Inside, an old-fashioned phone hung in a cradle. He lifted the receiver and the entire thing came off in his hand; the cord to connect the receiver to the base was missing.

  She giggled.

  Brandon waved the receiver around. “I guess we’ll just have to use the key like mere mortals.”

  Alyssa reached into the envelope for the giant key ring. It didn’t take long to find the obvious match, a large black skeleton key. She slid out of the truck and approached the gate. The key fit the lock perfectly, but wouldn’t turn.

  “I think the lock is broken,” she called out.

  “That can’t be.”

  Brandon joined her and wrestled with the key until at last the tumblers clicked into place. He pushed his side of the gate open, but Alyssa struggled with hers. The hinges appeared to be rusted in place.

  “Here, let me help you.” Brandon finished the task. “I’ll get some WD-40 out here and sufficiently lubricate every moving part.”

  They followed the winding path through a dense forest where the trees blocked out what little light remained. An eerie gloom settled in that had her wrapping her arms around herself as if she’d just had a chill. Even after Brandon engaged the headlights, the unsettled feeling did not fade. Instead it steadily grew the farther the truck climbed.

  The thick foliage finally retreated as the road evened out, but the knobby branches stretched like claws chasing them and threatening to snatch them back. Alyssa blinked a few times and watched as they slithered back into the shadows like cockroaches who’ve been hit with light.

  She turned back around and looked through the windshield. There it was, the monstrosity that was to be her home. In that instant, the dreaded niggling feeling she’d been suffering with since that damn letter arrived had a name: Seacliff Manor.

  Alyssa gawked at the nightmare staring back at her. The windows not covered with Boston ivy were boarded up. The cement in the circular drive had developed peaks and valleys like a roller coaster. Its fissures yawned wide where thick tree roots the size of tentacles on a giant squid pushed up in an effort to escape.

  A crumbling fountain in the middle of a dirt island sprouted a very healthy six foot high milk thistle weed, which would be impressive under different circumstances. The cracked sidewalk was run through with crabgrass, the planters overgrown with weeds. The entire estate was in the process of being reclaimed by nature.

  The gingerbread shingles looked as if they’d been munched on by hungry kids. This wasn’t a home; it was a carnival side-show complete with its own fun house. It’s a wonder the place hadn’t been condemned. She was afraid to look at her husband; he must be devastated. A tear slipped down her cheek and she whisked it away.

  Movement from a window above caught her eye. She turned to see what looked like the silhouette of a woman holding back a lace curtain as she peered out. With the fading light, it was difficult to make out her features.

  “I told you. Isn’t it fantastic?”

  Alyssa’s gaze jerked toward him. “That’s not even remotely funny.” Brandon’s face fell. Damn, he was serious. She looked back at the window, but the woman was gone.

  “Honey.” She took her husband’s hand. “Even if we could afford to renovate this place, it’s way too big for just us. We couldn’t afford the utilities, let alone the upkeep. I think it’s best we think about selling. A place this size would make a great retirement home, maybe one of those drug and alcohol rehab centers, or even a bed & breakfast.”

  “We could turn it into a B & B!”

  “Us?”

  Brandon jumped out of the truck.

  “Wait.” But he was gone.

  Too stunned to move, Alyssa watched as he fiddled with the keys until he found the one that fit, then disappeared inside. She stared at the door. “He’ll come to his senses.” But after waiting several minutes, he hadn’t resurfaced and she had to seek him out.

  She pushed open the front door. “Brandon?”

  The house was pretty dark, so she stayed by the front door while she searched for the switch. Her hand skimmed the wall until it hit a knob. She pushed it in and a chandelier above her head came to life.

  Alyssa moved past the glistening crystal to the center of a dome-shaped foyer. She glanced up and noticed that half of the glass ceiling was covered in plywood. “Great, yet another window that needs replacing.”

  “Come up here, honey, you’ve got to see this.”

  Alyssa turned toward her husband’s voice and found him bending over the railing, holding his smart phone, the flashlight app shined brightly. At the base of the stairs, she flipped a switch and a string of lights came on above the paintings lining the wall. Whoever the artist had been, he had amazing talent. The subject in each portrait appeared very much alive. She swore the eyes were following her.

  “Hurry, you can look at those later.”

  Irritated, she glanced his way, but he’d disappeared. Alyssa took a deep breath and hoped this madness of his passed soon. She ran her hand along the dusty banister and noted its height seemed dangerously low.

  Then she remembered t
hat in the 1800s people weren’t as tall as they are today. She began her ascent and a sudden fear of falling over the side enveloped her. She found herself clutching the railing with both hands as she climbed.

  When she reached the second floor, she sighed in relief and turned on the hall light. All of the doors were open. She briefly inspected each room as she passed; the furniture was covered in white sheets.

  By the time she arrived at the end of the hall, she found Brandon in the last bedroom. A tiny glow bounced around until she flipped on the overhead light.

  “There you are. What took you so long?” he asked.

  “Never mind that. Why didn’t you turn on any of the lights?”

  He stared at her as if he didn’t understand the question.

  “Never mind. What were you so excited for me to see?”

  “Just look at all these antiques!” He swept his hand around the circular room. A pile of discarded sheets lay on the floor.

  For the first time she noticed her surroundings. The queen-sized bed had an ornately carved headboard with angels and flowers that reached almost as high as the ceiling. She couldn’t help but run her hand along the cherubs.

  An engraved hope chest sat at the end of the bed. Red velvet curtains covered the windows behind a built-in window seat. She threw back the drapes, wondering if she could see the ocean from there. A cloud of dust enveloped her and sent her into a sneezing fit.

  “Jesus, what are you trying to do, asphyxiate us?” Brandon laughed. “I checked the other rooms and this looks like the one we should sleep in tonight.”

  “You want to spend the night here?”

  “Of course, we’ll have to use the sleeping bags on the bed. I don’t expect to find clean sheets tonight.”

  Alyssa gawked at her husband. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I know it’s a little dusty, but it won’t kill us.”

  “You actually want to stay in this mausoleum?”

  “I know it needs to be cleaned up a bit. But jeez, just pretend we’re camping. You’ve stayed in worse.”

  Her hands flew to her hips. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

  “What?”

  “The man who goes through hotel rooms checking the drains and flashing a black light on the bedding before he’ll even consider staying there?”

  “That’s different.”

  “The man who goes through the cupboard and straightens the labels on the cans and spices?”

  “Well—”

  “The man who had to show me how to do his laundry so it smelled right?”

  “Now you’re just being mean.”

  “I’m being honest. I think it’s time for you to do the same. Why the hell would you want to sleep one night in this nightmare of a place? Did you notice the rat droppings?”

  “It’s not like I asked you to sleep on the floor.”

  Alyssa shook her head. “The walls and ceiling are practically falling down around us.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “It’s worse! I’m sure we can find a motel to sleep in tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll look for an apartment. Maybe we can find someone who will want to buy this place even if it’s just for the land.”

  “No!”

  Alyssa jumped at his outburst.

  “No one is going to tear this house down. It’s been in my family for over a hundred and fifty years. It’s a part of my history, a part of me.”

  Alyssa didn’t know what to say. She’d never seen her husband more passionate about anything since she’d known him. Maybe after he sees this place in the light of day he’ll come to his senses.

  FOUR

  The following day, Brandon did not change his mind. Instead he talked her into turning the place into a bed & breakfast. It would pay for the upkeep and she could hire people to help her. Alyssa was excited with the prospect of running her own business.

  They hired a home inspector to come in. His report was not as bad as Alyssa had feared. The main structure was sound, the foundation solid. It had “good bones” was how he put it.

  That was a relief.

  There were spots on the upper floors where the Boston ivy had come in and was growing on the inside of the rooms. She had feared there were cracks in the walls, but he confirmed they had come in through the broken windows, as the crevices weren’t that deep. Along with the vines, there were snail tracks along the walls and ceilings.

  Her body quivered at the thought.

  They had an exterminator in to rid the place of spiders and all four-legged furry animals that had made their nests in the building.

  Best of all, they found themselves a handy-man.

  He was a sixty-five year old war vet and former contractor who hired out his services to supplement his social security check. Although his full moniker was William Bailey, he went strictly by his last name. Something about being known as Bill Bailey just didn’t sit right with him.

  Alyssa had grown fond of Bailey over the last month. Not just for his capabilities, but also his company while Brandon was on the road. Bailey knew all the best people for each job so he’d become her foreman.

  The first thing she did was have a company in to scrub the home from top to bottom. The expense was worth it to her, since she couldn’t stay another night in a place covered in rat droppings. They steam-cleaned the upholstery, drapes, and carpets, and sanitized the kitchen and bathrooms.

  Every piece of wood: walls, banisters, fireplace mantels, and furniture glowed from the lemon oil used to polish it. Since the carpets had been cleaned, the vivid red and the forest fern leaf pattern came alive.

  Although a bit threadbare, it had to do. The first floor was hardwood, including the stairs, which were covered with runners that matched the carpeting throughout the rest of the house. The sanding and refinishing of the floors were on the back burner.

  The way back.

  The worst spot was under the white dome in the foyer. It had obviously seen some rain; the warped boards were lifting. A stain the size of a small pond remained. Alyssa simply reallocated an area rug to that spot.

  The first order of business was the windows.

  Lots and lots of windows.

  A small trust did come with the estate; a monthly stipend was deposited into their account. By Alyssa’s estimate, it might just pay the gas, electric, water and trash bills. That measly amount was all Vera MacDougall had to live on. It may have been a great deal of money fifty years ago, but in this day and age it was pitiful.

  Especially in Southern California.

  That explained all the candles and kerosene lamps found about the house; the poor woman couldn’t afford the electric bill. To help with that, Alyssa went online and purchased solar lights to replace the electric lights outside; the ones on either side of the gate, the doors and at the base of the steps. She was able to find some that resembled nineteenth century gas lamps.

  Alyssa found Bailey in the second floor guest room with the men replacing the window. Her sister was coming for a visit and this room had the least amount of damage.

  “Okay, Bailey, you have everything under control?”

  “Sure do. This will be done before you get back.”

  “Then I’m off.” Alyssa ran down the hall to Vera’s room where she and Brandon had continued to sleep. Although technically it was now theirs, they still referred to it as her room. She brushed her hair and wiped some dust off her cheek before she realized she needed to change.

  She couldn’t be seen in public in her old ratty jeans and dirty tee shirt. The clothes remained on the floor where she dropped them on her way to the closet. She selected a cool summer dress that would go nicely in the eighty-plus degree heat and slipped on a pair of sandals.

  On her way out of the room she snatched her purse off the bed. Her footfalls echoed as she galloped down the stairs. She could hardly contain her excitement.

  “Be careful you don’t break your neck,” Bailey’s voice boomed.

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sp; “I won’t!” she called back.

  His deep laughter drifted down and followed her out the door.

  When she arrived outside the terminal, she found a spot next to the curb. The airport wasn’t very busy at two o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. People came pouring out of the sliding glass doors while Alyssa anxiously watched for Courtney.

  The moment she spotted a head of blonde hair with purple streaks bobbing through the crowd, she honked the horn, popped the trunk and jumped out of the Camry.

  After the sisters embraced, Alyssa grabbed Courtney’s bag with one hand and her sister’s arm with the other as she steered her toward the car. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Oh, my, God. Me too.”

  Alyssa threw the suitcase in the trunk and slammed it. “You’ve got to tell me all the news.” She got into the car and moved it before security could get on her case.

  “Jeez, Lyssa, it’s only been four weeks.”

  Alyssa smiled at her sister. “It feels like forever.”

  “So far I’m not impressed. It looks like any other city to me.”

  “Just wait, you’ll change your tune.” They rode down the highway in silence.

  “The ocean!” Courtney’s face pressed against the glass.

  “Now spill.”

  “You’ve been talking to Mom.”

  “I’m willing to hear your side of the story.”

  Courtney glanced her way for the first time since they’d entered the car. “What do I need college for? I mean, every one of Julia’s friends that got a degree either can’t find a job or are working at the local mini-mart. It doesn’t mean shit.”

  Alyssa couldn’t believe Courtney was comparing herself to their sister who was the most driven person she knew. “Julia doesn’t fit into either of those categories. She is using her degree.”