The gentlemen had a walking stick in one hand and a top hat placed under his other arm.
A mutton chop and mustached face, stern and cruel, stared down at Karen.
“Who is that?” she asked, turning to the silently stalking Bethany Granger.
“Henry Clark. He built this house. In fact, he basically built the town. Clark discovered marble under Blackwater and quarried it, making his fortune. Did you see the statue in the town square? On the Green? That's him.”
Karen turned back to the painting. She looked at Henry Clark. He frightened her.
“The house had been in the family for generations, passed from father to son. The last in the line died in 1972. The house has been empty since.” Granger added.
“This house has been empty nearly ten years?!” Karen was in shock but she couldn’t turn from the painting. Henry Clark’s eyes seemed to glisten and move with life. She didn't dare leave its gaze.
Granger offered no further explanation. Karen was too transfixed to ask again.
The three adults left the room. Karen was secretly relieved.
They walked up the stairs, arriving on a landing with a huge window that extended the entire width of the landing. Karen looked out. Below, Karen could see a walkway jetting out into a lake. Gold furnished trees surrounded the calm water.
“You can see the sunset from here.” Bethany Granger offered.
Karen looked at the extended window ledge. She imagined she would get a cushion to place on it. She would sit there every evening with a cigarette, reading as the sun went down over her beautiful new home.
The stairs continued up to the next floor. Straight ahead lay the master bedroom; a huge room. A four-poster bed was positioned in the middle. A striking mahogany-finished wardrobe sat against the near wall and another window opposite.
This one faced out of the left hand side of the house; a view of the forest. Birds chirped contentedly. A bathroom was next to this window. A simple bath/shower, sink and toilet. No complex carvings or elaborate statuettes.
Exiting the bedroom, Karen discovered the view that would greet her every morning, the wide set window onto her personal lake. Her heart skipped.
On a u-turn from the staircase was another bedroom.
“Although it’s relatively small, it’s possibly the best room in the house. It’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer.” Granger said as she opened the door for them.
The room was small but beautiful and had a moderate sized window onto the lake view.
Karen pondered the question as to who would be the lucky one to claim the room. She contemplated the argument that would most certainly follow and how long it would last.
On the other side of the stairs’ end was the secondary sized bedroom; bigger than the previous but void of the charm. Not that the room was not nice, it had high ceilings and the window out onto the grounds below was large, allowing the room to be nicely illuminated. It was pleasant but not stunning.
A bathroom was situated halfway down the hallway that ran adjacent to the master bedroom. The bathtub looked like it could fit all of the Dawsons and then some. It had opulent taps which cascaded water into a ravine-like tub. The deep tub allowed complete submersion and total relaxation.
The sink was set in front of a mirror. It was bordered by flowers, relieved out of the hardwood. Karen stared back at herself; she fought to suppress the rising smile. She couldn’t. Her face, which had lined with worry drastically over the last few years, had suddenly smoothed. It returned to the youthful vigor of marriage’s first days; when it was new and exciting.
“The last room is at the back here. It’s the smallest room. It has no windows, I’m afraid. It did at one point, I’m told, but they bricked it up many years ago.”
“A study, maybe? Bookcases could line the walls without fear of blocking light...”
James nudged Karen, sticking his tongue out against his lips.
“You said this was the last room...what about the stairs? Is there not another floor, I thought I saw a window up there?” Karen was confused. The realtor made no move to correct her.
“Ms. Granger?” Karen leaned forward, bending slightly, staring up into Bethany Granger’s downturned eyes.
“The...attic...is not available.” She replied simply.
Karen looked at James. He merely shrugged.
“Did you see the attic?”
“No, I only saw the first floor.”
“You didn't think to ask about the entire missing floor?”
James’ eyes widened as he poked Karen in the side. His eyes shifted from Karen to the realtor.
“No, James, I think it’s a perfectly valid question!” Karen said defiantly.
“I can’t open the door at the top of the stairs.” Granger finally said.
Karen turned to the realtor. “It’s an entire floor? There’s a door blocking it?”
“Yes.” Bethany Granger said eventually, making eye contact with Karen. “I haven’t got the key for it. None was ever provided.”
James stepped in. “I'm sure we could get one made, yeah?” He looked to Granger for support.
“Yes. There's a locksmith in town. He could do that for you very easily I'm sure.” She smiled. The weirdly distracted appearance she had taken on when the second floor was mentioned had now vanished.
“See, Kay? Easily sorted.” He smiled reassuringly.
Karen looked out of the corner of her eye at the realtor for a second longer and then allowed her gaze to travel back to her husband. She returned his smile.
“If you're happy enough, I’ll go back to the office and get the paperwork ready? You can have a walk ‘round the property and see the lake. When you’re ready, just come on down and sign the contracts. Everything will be ready to go by tomorrow!” Bethany Granger said, offering a pleasant smile and a wave as she got back into her car and reversed down the long steep drive.
Karen and James stood with their children in front of them, their arms around the kids’ shoulders and chests. They were all staring up at Blackwater House.
“Opinions, guys?” James asked.
“It’s beautiful, daddy!” Sophie said jumping excitedly, turning to her mother and father for approval.
“Marcus?” James said, shaking his hand on his son’s chest for a response.
“Yeah. It’s pretty cool, I guess.” The boy produced little emotion in his voice.
“Oh James, it’s beautiful!” Karen placed a hand to her mouth. She tried to stop the tears that brewed violently. She couldn’t stop her shaking hands. “But what about the kids’ schooling?”
“I've already made an appointment with the vice-principal of Otter Creek Elementary. We are going to see her after we sign the papers.” James patted Karen’s trembling hand.
The grand Victorian manor shimmered from its place atop the grass covered hill. The bright blue color of its exterior faded now, the house returned to its deep wooden frame.
25
Karen and James sat in the finely furnished office where they had been left by the principal’s secretary. She informed them they would meet a Mrs. Shaw, Vice-Principal.
Karen stared at the ceiling; admiring the wood paneling.
What sort of small town school has fancy rooms like this?, especially an elementary school?, she thought, impressed.
“It’s nice in here!” Karen whispered to James.
He shushed her and they both giggled.
“You’re worse than Sophie!” he joked.
There was a jingle as the door opened; the blind chiming off the window.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dawson?”
Karen turned, rising from her seat, and was met by a small gray haired woman with a mouse face. The scurrying eyes took in the couple in one quick swooping glance. Her upper lip had a fine matte of hair.
She has the whiskers too, Karen thought excitedly, stifling a laugh.
“Yes. I'm Karen.” She shook the woman’s hand.
“James.” He
smiled down at the short-statured woman.
The vice-principal walked to the other side of the desk at which Karen and James sat.
“My name is Elizabeth Shaw; I am the vice-principal here at Otter Creek Elementary.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Shaw.” Karen offered.
“Oh please, call me Elizabeth. Only the students need call me Ms. Shaw!” she beamed.
“Okay, Elizabeth.” Karen returned the smile. “We wanted to enrol our children here.”
“Yes. Quite unusual to enrol once the school year has been started, you understand?”
“I know, but we only recently moved. Into Blackwater House, actually!”
“Oh...” The vice-principal’s face remained frozen in surprise.
“Ms. Shaw?”
“Sorry. Lovely house, isn’t it? Quite a...long history...” the old woman continued to stare at the non-descript spot on the wall behind them. “I was unaware they had sold it.”
Karen and James looked at each other and smiled.
“We actually only signed the paperwork today, but we will move very soon.” James said.
“Yes, well, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, the year has only begun after all!” the woman smiled.
“Fantastic!” Karen clapped. “We are so looking forward to joining the community. Blackwater is such a quaint little place!”
“Our own little slice of paradise, we like to say.” The vice principal quipped with a grin.
“Our daughter, Sophie; she just turned five, is going to love it here! All the animals and flowers.”
“You have a teenage son, correct?”
“Yes. Well, he’s still only eleven, but those teens are creeping up fast!” Karen tittered.
“He will fit in just fine at our junior high.”
“Let’s hope. He wasn’t overly excited about the move; ‘leaving friends behind’ etc.” James interjected again. “I'm sure he’ll grow to love it here as much as my wife and I already have!”
“All children are the same, but they always adapt and learn to accept it; meet new friends, form a new life.” Shaw said patting Karen’s hand reassuringly across the desk.
26
With the papers signed, and the move date set for the week’s end, the Dawson’s drove back to Jamaica Plain. The energy within the car was electric; they were all excited about their new life.
“So kids, the million dollar question...who gets the lake view bedroom?”
Karen braced herself for a torrent of ‘me’s but instead Sophie’s excited cry of affirmation was followed by silence from Marcus.
“You're okay with that, Marcus?”
Karen turned in her seat to face her young son.
“Yeah, sure. I kinda like the other room anyway...” he said nonchalantly.
She returned to her position facing the road ahead and gave James a shrug-like facial expression; raising her eyebrows and down-turning her mouth. It was a non-questioning illustration of surprise. James said nothing, he merely smirked.
The following day, Karen told Gaz Berry she would finish out the week and then move. He gave her a bear-like hug.
“I'm gonna miss you, hun!” the gruff chef said.
“Thank you for being so kind, Gaz.”
“It was a pleasure having you here.” Gaz coughed, suppressing saying more for fear of emotion breaking his voice.
The school year had barely started so finding a place for the children in Blackwater’s sole elementary was simple enough. They would leave one school on Thursday afternoon and start a new one on Monday morning, with little upset to their education.
James was up the day after the contract signing bright and early. He had a renewed vigor that had not been present in him since the birth of Marcus eleven years earlier.
James rang a removal company. He organized both a rental and a pair of men with a second truck. He wasn’t taking any chances. James wanted to leave Boston and their old life behind in one en masse trip.
He then went to the local grocery store and asked if he could buy some of the cardboard boxes in which they received their fruit and veg. These boxes combined with the few they had used in the previous move allowed James to start the heady task of packing up the Dawsons’ life again. This time, hopefully, for good.
James started with the books that were scattered around the house in various bookcases and shelves. He then packed his clothes and the children’s, leaving a t-shirt and jeans and a few dresses for Sophie and Marcus, with enough underwear for the week. James did the same for himself. He left one pair of jeans out with a baggy shirt; he didn't need to be presentable.
Karen’s clothes were a touchy subject. James let her pack them in her own particular way.
The dishes were stacked and packed neatly. Old newspapers stuffed below, down the side and on top of the boxes. James left a plate and a glass for each of the family. Cutlery was siphoned. They would wash the plates and reuse them for each meal. Once Friday came, they could place them in their own box, and the family could leave.
James made a checklist of all these things, ticking them off as he went.
Friday morning arrived as quickly as the Dawsons could make it. An early ‘lights-out’ policy helped push things along. They set the packed boxes at the front door, ready to be collected by the vans. The moving crew arrived in two separate trucks. James assumed the wheel of the smaller one and the driver joined his colleague. With everybody lifting, they packed the trucks in less than an hour and a half. Even little Sophie managed to carry a box filled with her dolls. She carried a lamp or two, but James was happy to let her sit out most of it.
Marcus impressed James with his mature attitude to the move, both in his acceptance of it and his willingness to chip in with the manual labor.
Karen and the kids took the Pontiac, leaving last after doing a final sweep of the house to ensure they forgot nothing.
They had left a realtor in charge of selling the house. He was a neighbor who had volunteered to sell quickly and for the best price possible, ensuring the financial strain on the Dawsons was significantly lessened.
By the time the Pontiac had pulled up in front of Blackwater House, James had half emptied the truck he was driving. The hired help handled the heavier items such as the sofa and beds.
They had left behind the bed frame in the Jamaica Plain’s master bedroom since a four-poster was waiting for them in Blackwater.
The movers handled the children’s beds intact. The wide staircase in their new home meant the placement in the rooms was relatively easy. James directed the movers to the appropriate rooms.
They stacked boxes in every niche of the house. There was no labeling on the boxes so nothing had a place yet.
The trucks were emptied by 4pm. James thanked the two men, shook their hands, and they took their leave; one in each truck.
The family unpacked the boxes at a more leisurely pace. Karen put Sophie down for a nap in her new room. The late afternoon sun cast the room in a magnificent hue.
“This really is just perfect...” Karen thought, looking around.
When she had returned to the ground floor, Marcus had connected the TV, and he and James were assembling the bookcase and shelves as the television burred.
Marcus was carefully placing ornaments in glass fronted cabinets; ballerinas made of china, frozen mid-pirouette next to a litter of kittens pawing at their elegant and beautiful porcelain mother.
Karen turned down the hallway and into the kitchen. She eyed the boxes and started the unpacking. The first box she opened contained books, and the second clothes. She set them to one side. There was no point moving them to the appropriate rooms now as there were already too many everywhere else.
They can wait until later, she thought decisively.
She eventually found a box with utensils and cutlery. She packed them away, humming a tune to herself. As she reached for another box; this one containing glasses, she heard a chirping. She moved to the window and opened it. The
singing’s volume increased. She felt a wave of emotion as she listened. Looking out into the afternoon sun, Lake Blackwater was still and mesmerizing.
Marcus entered the kitchen.
“Mom, here’s some more dis---Mom! Are you okay?!” He moved towards her, concern on his face.
Karen wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Oh, baby, I'm just happy!”
“You don’t look it!”
She giggled and hugged her son; inhaling his sweetness.
The couple continued unpacking into the early hours of the morning. Neither was tired; they were too excited. They talked over late night coffee about decorating. They decided to wait until Monday when the kids were back at school before working on the law office. It would give them a chance to unpack everything.
Saturday morning brought another glorious day. With most of the unpacking done, Karen went for a walk around the lake while the kids unpacked their toys and games; arranging their rooms to their likings.
The family ate dinner at the grand dining table. Karen had managed to get rid of the cobwebs and the old smell that had settled into the drapes and upholstery. She had washed them after her walk. They hung in the back garden on a line stretched between the house and a steel pole on the edge of the lake. The dining room was bare now, not as lavish as it had once been.
By Monday morning, the place was essentially complete. A few items needed fixed or put in the basement for storage. Light bulbs in the second living room – the one with the portrait of Henry Clark – were blown.
Karen wanted rid of the painting; it gave her the creeps. James said it was probably expensive and historically important. She settled for the basement.
27
James and Karen traveled into town and parked outside the office. They had a bucket with rubber gloves, dusters, detergent, and a few pictures they had decided not to hang in the house.
Blackwater Page 8
