by Blythe Baker
Having learned from my past experiences, this time I had gone to the bathroom before I left the house and I had brought a small flashlight with me. It wasn’t terribly bright. Apparently, neither was I because I thought it might be best to keep the light low. But when I realized it made the terrain trickier to maneuver, I cursed the darkness.
In what would have been a small vestibule before entering the formal church, there was a long corridor attached. In one direction, the hall lead to a set of small rooms. The other direction lead to the two towers where the church bells still hung.
The idea of going up the stone steps made me nervous. So I explored the small rooms first. Then I peeked out the door and saw a couple of the outbuildings. I studied them, hoping I might see someone pacing around or obviously waiting. But there wasn’t anyone there.
Suddenly, I heard a shuffling from the stairs. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. A cold sweat settled on my skin, making me shiver. My mouth went dry. Suddenly the strong smell of the dusty interior brought the entire place into crisp focus.
I shined my flashlight in the direction of the steps but saw nobody there.
The desire to learn who was messing with my tea garden and patrons outweighed my fear. I squared my shoulders and cautiously tiptoed toward the stairs, careful not to make any noise that might give my position away. Of course, it wasn’t a straight staircase that would allow me to see clearly all the way to the top. Nope. It was a winding staircase that snaked up and up with the view revealing itself only one step at a time.
I had no choice. The journey to the top of the bell tower was slow. I pressed my back against the stone wall, inching myself along slowly. The wall was cold and hard against my back, like it wanted me to know it had no liking for me being there. As much as I wanted to use my flashlight, I didn’t. Giving away my position that easily didn’t seem like a good idea. Instead, I clicked off my light and let the natural light from the night sky above give me just enough illumination to see that the stairs were empty
An old bell hung at the top of the tower. It was a lot bigger than it had looked from the ground. The ropes it was rigged to looked new but I wondered about the wooden beams that supported it.
Finally, I reached the platform at the top of the steps. The bell platform was made of thick wood. I went to the ledge and looked out, hoping I’d see the person I was searching for.
When nothing moved in the shadowy courtyard below, I wondered what was going on. It had to be at least ten minutes after midnight. The note had said to come at midnight. Not ten after but exactly midnight.
“This was probably a setup to get me away from the tea garden,” I muttered. “Whoever’s responsible is probably having a field day tearing the place up while I’m here on some wild goose chase.”
I was no longer scared of the shadows. I was mad. I had fallen for a ruse that was as old as the hills. Why hadn’t I just called the police when I got the note? Why hadn’t I called Michael and said, “Hey, there probably isn’t anything to this but I got a not instructing me to meet someone strange, all by myself, at midnight at a totally desolate location. I was thinking of going. Good idea, right?”
“This is a mess.” I sighed and flipped on my flashlight, no longer concerned about giving my position away, and went to cross the platform to get to the stairs. But suddenly, my breath caught in my throat.
There wasn’t anyone there, right? I was alone in the bell chamber, just me and the shadows. The strong, determined, hate-filled shadows that punched their hand smack into the center of my back, sending my breath out in a huff, while my feet flew out from under me.
Up and over I went. The waist-high wall of the bell chamber was no match for gravity once I was shoved, as I nearly sailed off the platform and into thin air. Without thinking, I reached out and my hands quickly found the rope to the bell.
Like Quasimodo, I sank down, clutching the rope with all my strength. The bell gonged loudly, making my teeth chatter. Sweat instantly began to loosen my grip on the rope but terror kept me from letting go.
I kicked and writhed, pulling myself up barely an inch at a time. The bell continued to ring in jerky, pulsating intervals as each movement I made caused the clapper to bang the bowl. It was like someone who didn’t know their dashes and dots was trying to send Morse Code.
I looked down and saw the shadowy person who had done this take off running across the grass and into the trees not far from where I had come from myself just a few short minutes earlier. The ground spun and tilted below as vertigo washed over me.
I was getting so tired. My arms felt like they were being ripped from their sockets with red hot tongs. My legs struggled to help, scratching against the stone of the building in the hopes of catching on any ledge, no matter how small. My lungs were ready to burst as I gulped air, holding it while I clenched my teeth and pulled up, up, always up, until finally I cried out in relief.
I didn’t know how I did it. My right leg swung up over the wall as if it wanted to save itself. The rest of my body just happened to come along with it. With one leg over, I was able to use my thighs to inch me up further until my torso was prostrate on the ledge. I hugged it tightly, my hands slowly letting go of the rope, around which they had temporarily formed into claws.
My entire body was soaked with sweat. All I could do was lean away from the open air and let gravity pull me completely onto the hard wooden platform just inches away from the stone stairwell. I hit my funny bone on landing and let out a pitiful yelp followed by reluctant chuckles.
My muscles exploded with relief. They’d never been tested like that and I wondered if I shouldn’t make an appointment for myself to join a gym.
“Or at least a self-defense class,” I muttered. “But they might tell me the best self defense is not responding to anonymous letters requesting you meet at midnight at one of the most secluded places on the planet.”
After a few minutes, I caught my breath. I was sure that the loud bell ringing would have brought the authorities and maybe the National Guard running but I was still all alone. The only witnesses to the attack and my amazing maneuvers were the stars.
As much as I would have liked to lie there and collect myself, I was afraid that whoever did the pushing might still be watching from the trees below. If they saw their plan had failed, they might come back to finish the job in a more hands-on kind of way.
I pushed myself up and got to my feet with a grunt. Snapping on the flashlight that miraculously hadn’t fallen from my pocket, I aimed it down the dark hole in the floor and didn’t see anything but the twisty staircase.
My arms still tingled with numbness, as I made my way down to ground level. Once in the vestibule, I ran to the exit and waited. Holding my breath, I pulled the door open a crack and peeked outside. I wasn’t going to get ambushed again. I was in a hurry but I was going to be smart.
Nothing but crickets and cicadas were waiting for me.
I filled my lungs, yanked the door open and took off as fast as I could toward the tree line. My car was parked on the street just past there. Once I was safely inside the mass of shadows and trees, I slowed down. How pitiful would it be to survive all of that and then trip and hurt myself while trying to run in a forest? With my luck I’d surely get tangled in a bramble, fall and crack my head on a rock.
My steps were quick but careful. Every couple of feet I stopped and listened to see if there was anyone else crunching leaves or breaking branches. It was obvious I was alone. Whoever thought they’d bested me had taken off. If they knew I had survived, they weren’t coming back. Not tonight.
I got to my car. When I sat down in the front seat, I made sure to lock all the doors. In thirty minutes I’d be home safe and sound. I wasn’t going to go and check the garden tonight. If whoever was responsible for this set-up had plans to ruin my garden they’d probably already done it by now.
Traffic was light on the roads. It had brought me back to reality and Little River and normalcy by the time I turned onto my st
reet.
It never felt so good to walk through my front door as it did tonight. I snapped the deadbolt in place, hooked the security chain, and leaned my back against the door, letting out my breath.
Moonshine was covered in his cage but I heard the gentle tinkle on his bells as he ruffled at the noise.
Mamma Jackie was still up. The kitchen light was on and the glow of the television came from her open bedroom door. She must have sensed something because she was out of her room and looking me over before I had a chance to set my flashlight and keys down.
“Looks like your date went well,” she scoffed.
“I wasn’t on a date. I was at the San Juan Capistrano Mission.”
She scratched her head and yawned, losing interest.
Upstairs, I hopped into the shower and scrubbed off the near death experience as best I could. I went to my room but when I lay down on the bed my body just wouldn’t rest. The bed didn’t feel comfortable. My pajamas itched. A song that I hated from the radio kept running through my head and wouldn’t shut off. I was too hot. Five minutes later, I was too cold. Finally, I snapped on the reading lamp on my nightstand.
It was almost two in the morning. I decided to head to the basement and do a little work down there. Normally, my basement gave me the willies just because it was cold and spooky and a basement. But after the renovations of the house turned out so nice I had started thinking that the basement should be fixed up too.
But before that could be done I still had some of my grandmother’s things to organize. I found that I was enjoying going through the photos and clothes. It helped me get to know her.
So, with my courage at an all time high and my body feeling like it needed to run a marathon just to burn off the excess energy, I headed downstairs.
I was in a pile of blankets on the floor when my ex-mother-in-law let Drake in the house.
13
“What are you doing down here?” Drake asked, looking annoyed.
“I couldn’t sleep last night.” I went to push myself up and every muscle in my body rebelled against me. “Oh, gosh! Ouch! Ouch!” I said miserably.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I just slept wrong. I’m all stiff,” I lied. I didn’t want to tell him about last night. He’d have way too much to say and I hadn’t even had a coffee yet. I was completely unarmed.
“She came home late,” Mamma Jackie yelled from upstairs.
Drake gave me a questioning look but I just shrugged, and then winced as I got to my feet. My thighs felt like they’d been filled with cement and I was sure my arms were hanging limply by my sides like an ape. I shuffled across the basement floor and pushed past my ex-husband to get to the stairs.
“What are you doing here?” it occurred to me to ask. “You didn’t call or tell me you were stopping by. You know how I hate unexpected pop-ins.”
“I thought I’d stop by and take a look at everything the inspectors checked out and what they filled out on your copy of the paperwork. That way if there’s anything that goes wrong, you won’t be liable. They’ll be the ones in the hot seat.”
“Well, thanks. The forms are on the dining room table. I did sign off on them, like you told me to.”
Upstairs, in the kitchen, I grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and poured a coffee for myself and half of one for Drake. I was hoping he wouldn’t stay too long.
With hawk-like intensity, his eyes scanned the papers I showed him. As much as he drove me crazy, he was a good lawyer. There was a reason he was making the kind of money he was and why the high profile clients sought him out. It was really human of him to take the time to look at my tiny issue and offer some help. You didn’t find guys like that very often.
“Does it look okay?” I asked.
“Yes. This is exactly what I expected.” He took the coffee and sipped it loudly. “I’ll get out to the garden with my phone and snap some pictures.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Better safe than sorry,” Drake said.
He stuffed the papers inside his suit jacket. “I’ve got to get back to Winchester and work. I’m going to stop at the tea garden for those pictures and then be on my way.”
I didn’t say anything else as Drake went to his mother. She’d already taken her place out on the veranda, novel in one hand and steaming cup of joe in the other.
“Mom. Want to go for a walk?”
There was no answer but I watched her stand up and link her arm through his. They slowly walked into the yard. Mamma Jackie was explaining our attempt to capture Moonshine. Drake was the only person Mamma Jackie had even the slightest affection for. For all intents and purposes, he was a good son. He did what she asked and that was what made her happiest. The old woman pointed to the trees and I knew she was retracing Moonshine’s flight pattern. Then she pointed to the back door, obviously describing the bird moseying into the house like he was royalty and had arrived just in time for dinner.
I smiled at the odd couple as they walked around the house and disappeared from view. When I turned to head up the stairs, my body felt like it was pushing against a tsunami wave. Every muscle moved in slow motion. My face contorted with each step and I groaned.
“Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch,” I muttered as I pulled myself up the steps to my bedroom to get dressed and ready for the day.
It took a little while but as my muscles started to warm up I was able to move a bit better. I just hoped there wouldn’t be any reason to sprint because the idea of running or even walking fast was as welcoming as the idea of lifting a one hundred pound rock over my head.
I slowly climbed into my last clean pair of sweat pants and a baggy T-shirt, before slipping on my flip-flops and heading outside to walk to the garden. My hair blew in the breeze and I rubbed my make-up free face just to get the blood circulating more. I hadn’t put on a skirt or even nice slacks for several days. Being sloppy reminded me too much of my college days and I had hoped to be more grownup since then. No one would know that to look at me. Laundry was the next item on my list of things to do.
The idea that the shadow person might have come back to vandalize my garden hadn’t left my mind. If they had, I was afraid that Drake and Mamma Jackie would discover it before me. But, looking at my watch, if they hadn’t seen anything and called me yet, I took that as a good sign.
Last night’s events were so surreal that I wondered, as I followed the road toward the garden entrance, if I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. If it weren’t for the pain in every part of my body I’d say the entire thing had been a mad hallucination.
Reaching the parking lot, I crossed the span of gravel and ducked through the entrance gate into the refreshing shadows of the garden trees. Winding my way along the paths around the property, I kept an eye out for signs of damage or anything unusual.
I hadn’t got far when I saw the tracks and knew my hunch had been right. Someone had lured me away last night so they could sneak onto my property. They were deep tracks that snaked their way through my garden, past the construction of the new pond and off in a very unexpected direction. There had been a brief shower the other night and the Texas mud had a tendency to stay wet in the shade of the tea garden. As I followed the trail of breadcrumbs that were actually sloppy, nondescript footprints cutting through my garden, I nearly choked when they ended.
Had the prints run off the edge of a cliff or stopped at the base of a granite mountain I wouldn’t have been as surprised as I was staring at them right now. They lead through the furthest end of the garden, past my new pond, and around toward my house, where they turned in order to reach their final destination. My new neighbor’s house.
14
“What do I do?” Forgetting my physical limitations I began to pace back and forth waving my arms. “What do I do? Should I go confront her? She’s a shut in, right? Who does this? Who goes traipsing through someone else’s tea garden at night, especially when they’ve just moved in? This makes no sense. No
ne.”
I took a couple deep breaths and tried to calm myself.
“Maddie, you don’t know anything,” I reminded myself. My rational side was trying to overcome my angry side, while my angry side was completely squashing my injured side.
“Well, if this new neighbor thinks she can walk all over my property, I might as well do the same to her’s.” Hitching up my sweat pants, I began a quick survey of my neighbor’s estate. Marching like I was going to war I stomped through the bushes, ignoring the scratches and scrapes on my arms.
With my eyebrows pinched together angrily, I planted myself in the middle of the back yard and looked around. Every window was closed with either curtains or blinds pulled tight. Nothing stirred.
Part of me had hoped to see a set of beady eyes peeking out at me before a door or window flew open and she came out, fit to be tied, asking why I was on her property again. But there was nothing. It was as silent as a post office on a Sunday.
The Jenkins sisters were particular about keeping up their yard when they had both lived here. But since the place had been empty for some time now, the bushes had returned to their wild state and grown high and thick. Weeds had popped up in between the decorative rocks along the house’s foundation. Terra cotta pots of all sizes just held dirt. No flowers. No plants. Nothing. It was a depressing scene.
But I didn’t let the forlorn state of the yard sway me. I hurried around the other side of the house, looking for any glimpse inside, where I might catch the owner’s eye.
Finally, I was at the front porch. To my horror, my pie had been left out there and was now thoroughly covered in ants.
That was just plain hurtful. I rapped on the door.
“I know you’re in there,” I called. “You know, you could have at least thrown this pie away inside, so I wouldn’t have seen it.”
I waited and listened. A few creaks came from inside but I didn’t see a face in the door this time. That just offended me more.
