The Dawsons spent the day scrubbing and dusting until the office was bright, airy and looking presentable.
They collected Sophie from kindergarten before looking around the town. Karen had spotted a second-hand and antiques store. She thought they might pick up chairs and tables for the reception. As they walked down the street, Karen felt sure people were staring.
“Hi there, folks!” a friendly voice intruded. An open-faced elderly man with an old, faded Red Sox cap and pipe stood before them. He had his thumb hooked under his braces.
“Hi!” James said. “Do you own this place?” He jerked his thumb to the antique shop beside them.
They had reached it already? Karen thought incredulously.
“Ayuh, sure do! Judd’s the name, Judd Reynolds.” He stuck his hand out with lightning fast pace. James was taken aback by the firmness of his shake.
“Pleased to meet you...” Karen shook his hand.
“Charmed, ma’am...and who is this pretty little lady?” Judd said turning to Sophie. She hid behind Karen.
“This is Sophie, our youngest. She’s five. We have a son. Marcus. He’s still in school. Say hello, Soph...”
The little girl popped her pigtailed head out from behind Karen’s leg and offered a quick yet sweet, “Hi!”
“What can I do you for?” Reynolds asked, turning his attention back to the adults.
“We’re from Boston. I bought the old law practice on Landry...I’m taking it over.”
“Ah! A lawyer! From Beantown! Town’s been needing one since old Jeff passed away...good deal!”
“I'm looking to furnish it and your place looks a mighty fine one to start at!”
Karen looked at James, amused. “Mighty fine?” She mouthed. He was getting into the New England vernacular very easily. He was fitting right in.
“Ah, well. Ya see there’s these tables and chairs, they’d be good for a lobby. What ‘bout your own desk?”
“I was gonna use the oak one already there...”
“Ayuh, that’s a wicked sturdy one!”
“I need a chair though...”
“Ain’t no real comfortable ones for sittin’ here. You need a soft one that won’t knot yah back after too long. No antiques. I think I might have one of those orthopeeedic ones out back. Fella brought it in a few years back...hadn’t a way to sell it...”
“That’d be great!”
“I’ll bring it right ovah to ya. I get ma boy to fetch the flatbed. Say, where you folks move to anyway? Those new builds up by Addison.
“No, we bought Blackwater House.”
The old man’s jolly face dropped.
“Th-The Manor?” he stuttered.
“Yes...” James’ smile faded. Something was wrong.
“I go-t-tten...I forgot to fetch something...I’lla bring those things over tomorrow.”
And with that, he scuttled back inside the open door of the store. He shut it, flipped the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’, peaked out at the stunned Dawsons, and then vanished from view.
“He’s a funny man...” Sophie enthused.
“Yes, he is...” Karen said, giving James a stern look.
They had returned to the house hastily. All relaxed feelings dissipated.
“What the hell was that all about?!” Karen said when out of earshot of Sophie.
“I don’t know...he’s just some crazy old man.” James shooed Karen with a wave of his hand.
“I'm not a fly, Jay!” Karen batted James’ hand. “And he wasn’t some senile old fart...he knew something. What is up with this house? First the realtor being weird and avoiding questions, then people staring, and now Judd Reynolds...something’s going on!”
28
Tuesday morning was different. Something had opened Karen’s eyes. She looked at Blackwater differently. She still loved the house and the town was perfect, but she felt something. Something that set her with unease.
She had prepared the kids for school whilst James was at the office on Landry Isle. He waited for the Reynolds boy to arrive with the furniture.
By the time Karen arrived, it was approximately 11am.
“Where’s the stuff?” she said looking around the office, seeing nothing but the emptiness.
“The guy hasn’t arrived yet...” James sat in one of the abandoned chairs, his feet up on the small secretarial desk.
Karen sighed heavily. She slapped her hand against her forehead. She looked back to the wide windowed front of the office. Karen put her hands on the glass in front of her and leaned forward. She squinted out through the louver blinds and into the early morning sunlight.
“Don’t you think this is a little bit weird?” Karen finally asked.
“He’s an old man. Maybe he forgot...”
“I'm going over there now!” Karen said as she fired herself off from the window and out the door.
“Karen! Karen!” James chased after her, almost stumbling as he staggered off the chair.
Karen marched through the square, past the marble bust of Henry Clark. She didn't bother looking left or right as she stormed across the street towards Judd’s store.
The bell above the door chimed as she pushed in. A burly middle-aged man intercepted her war-path.
“Woah there! Steady on, ma’am! What’s the rush?” he tuned in a thick accent.
“Where’s Judd?” she said not looking him in the eye. She spied over his shoulder.
“My pa’s not in the shop today. I'm George, maybe I can help you, ma’am?”
“Your father said you would bring furniture over to the old Jeff Manson office and we’ve been waiting all morning!” Karen’s fury was subsidizing. She couldn’t maintain it.
“Aw, I'm sorry Miss, I'm afraid mah pa never told me. I will get on that right away.” The large man bowed his head curtly to Karen and made his way into the back of the shop.
Karen stood dumbstruck. She felt deflated of her rage. A second later, the door chimed again and the muscular son of Judd returned. Karen could see a flat bed truck parked outside now. The door to the flat bed was open.
“Now, ma’am...what were the items you were lookin’?” he offered her a warm smile.
Karen couldn’t maintain her defiance. “Ehh...it was some chairs...and a table for the reception?”
“These ones here would be ideal for that, I think...” He pointed to a stack of chairs up-ended onto a table. It was a small scratched dark wood. It looked like the chairs could topple the table it was so minor compared to the stack.
“Em...thank you...they’re nice. Your father suggested an orthopedic chair in the back might be appropriate for the office itself...?” Karen felt awkward now; guilty for her initial reaction to the man.
“Ah! I know the one!” George Reynolds clicked his fingers and kept his forefinger extended so he was pointing at Karen.
James appeared at the door. He hesitated. He didn't know whether to enter a potential war zone. As he was contemplating the action, a buff man burst out through the doorway carrying a stack of chairs.
“Oh! ‘Scuse me, sir!” the man said as he shuffled past. He loaded the chairs onto the bed of a truck and hustled back into the shop.
James ventured in after him. He found Karen standing self-consciously in the middle of the store.
“I found Judd’s son...” she said slightly embarrassed.
George excused his way past again with the small table; its four legs intricately melded back and forth before reaching their feet.
“Yahtzee!” she whispered as he disappeared out the door.
James pointed out the door. Karen nodded.
“Okay, folks. Last thing’s the chair and we can head back.” The man said as he passed them again.
He reappeared momentarily with the office chair.
After loading it on the truck, he stood, forearms flat against the frame of the entrance, looking at the Dawsons.
“Ready when you are, folks...”
29
“That�
�s about it, hun.” James was staring with pride at his handiwork. They had arranged the tables and chairs, and opened the windows and blinds.
“We could go to the hardware store. Maybe they have filing cabinets...?” Karen wiped sweat from her eyes with her forearm. She smelt stale and she direly needed a cigarette.
Karen stepped out the door and leaned her back up against the glass front. She produced a cigarette and lit it.
“Evening! How’s the move going?”
Karen looked up from her feet. A man with graying hair and horn-rimmed glasses smiled at her.
He switched his brief case from his right hand to his left and proffered his hand.
“I'm Dr. Hendrix. I am the local physician.”
“Oh! Hello, Dr. Hendrix.” Karen removed the cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke from the corner of her mouth. She took the outstretched hand and shook it. “I’m Karen Dawson. My husband, James, took over this practice.”
“You purchased Blackwater House, as well, right?”
“We did!” Karen tilted her head. “Seemed to freak out some of the locals though...I’m sure I’ve seen people staring at us!” she sniggered.
“Oh, don’t worry about that! Small town, small people. Strangers don’t last long ‘round ‘ere!” The doctor affected a hick accent and chuckled. “It’ll get better with time. They’ll find a new obsession.” He winked.
James opened the door. “I'm ready to leave when you ar---oh, hello.”
Hendrix stepped forward and greeted James. “Dr. Hendrix, Mr. Dawson. Pleasure to have another educated individual around!” He hooted with laughter.
James smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
“I was just reassuring your wife that the locals can be quite voyeuristic but it’s all fine. They just need another bit of news to occupy them.”
“I told my wife it was nothing!” James glanced at Karen.
“My wife and I have few friends in town. We would be delighted if you would join us for dinner this Friday evening?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Karen said.
They spent the following days putting the finishing touches around the house and the office. They found sturdy filing cabinets in the hardware store. The owner suggested he build them a custom set. Tall and deep for all the files James would have; the town had a lot of future clients. They tipped the handyman a free legal appointment.
On Friday, Karen and James ordered Marcus to look after his sister. They didn't know where to start when it came to getting a baby sitter. None of their neighbors had come visit them so far, and they didn't want to approach them for the sole purpose of asking for a favor. Besides, Marcus was old enough; they felt, to care for his sister for a few hours. They were safe in the house.
“Hi, you must be the Dawsons? I'm Susan. Please come in.” A wide-faced woman greeted them at the door. She was quite wrinkled. Karen wondered if she was actually older than the doctor. He may have been graying but he remained quite smooth-skinned.
“Karen,” she said, shaking the woman’s hand.
James did likewise.
Susan Hendrix guided them through the hall and into the dining room where the table was set. The house was similar to the Dawsons’ old one in Jamaica Plain. It was slightly larger but its layout was very similar.
The doctor was in the dining room putting the finishing touches; cutlery and napkins.
He gave Karen and James a warm welcome, kissing Karen on the cheek and shaking James’ hand.
“Nice to see you both again. Have a seat; we’ll be in, in a minute. Just finishing off the last few preparations.” He smiled and took his leave.
The couple looked at the table and then each other. They silently agreed to sit facing the door. Gossiping is a lot easier when you can see the subject of your talk coming.
“Nice!” Karen whispered to James as they took their seat.
He nodded.
At this, the doctor and his wife entered. They were carrying bowls; steam fuming out of them.
They took their seats opposite the couple; Susan sat across from James and the doctor across from Karen so that the two women were next to each other.
“So...” Susan Hendrix said. “What brings you to the area?”
“Wow! Straight to it, Susan?” Karen laughed. “My husband has opened a law practice in town.”
“So Greg said, but how come you decided Blackwater was the place to do it? It’s not exactly the obvious place to start!” Mrs. Hendrix guffawed.
“Well, I'm from the country originally and I always dreamt of coming back to the fresh air. I didn't realize we would do it so soon, but circumstances have meant we could. You don’t sound like you're from around her either.” Karen said.
“I'm actually from New Haven but moved away when I was sixteen. My parents divorced and I went to live with my mother in Boston; which is where I met Greg...” The woman smiled at her husband. “He was studying medicine and did a placement at the hospital where I worked. I was a nurse in my former life!” she smiled.
“How many years were you there before you met Dr. Hendrix, then?” Karen saw this as her route in to guess the couple’s age disparity.
“Hehe! I admit...he is my toyboy!” she giggled.
Was she drunk already? James thought.
“Susan...” The doctor said. He was tense. His voice had a level of anger in it he was just managing to suppress.
“Oh, lighten up Greg, it’s just a joke!” she winked at her husband. He smirked and looked at her side-on, as if to make sure she said nothing else.
“I'm from Connecticut. I came here after several years working ER.” Greg Hendrix spoke before his wife could. “I don’t think anyone could keep that work up for long, especially in a major city...so much trauma...I had thought about becoming a family physician for several years and whenever our children moved out, I decided it was the right time. Susan knew the area and we found Blackwater particularly lovely.”
“So quiet!” She agreed. “And everyone’s very friendly!”
“My wife felt quite awkward actually. She was under the impression that the townsfolk were afraid of us!” James chortled.
Susan looked confused at Karen. “Why on earth would they be afraid of you? Lawyers aren’t really bloodsucking vampires!” The woman let out a hoot of laughter and winked at James. He returned the compliment with a polite smile.
“I felt everyone was nice until I mentioned we had bought Blackwater House...” Karen said absentmindedly.
“Blackwater House...” Susan Hendrix had lost all sense of amusement. “The old Clark house?”
“That's the one.” Karen saw the change in Susan, and more importantly, in the doctor.
“You do know the history, right?” She looked unsurely to her husband. He tensed his jaw and widened his eyes. A slight shake of the head.
Karen looked at her husband. She knew something was amiss that first day. James avoided eye contact.
Does he know something? Karen thought.
“I'm afraid I don’t.” Karen replied.
“Well...the house has been empty for ten years, you knew that?” Susan Hendrix whispered conspiratorially.
Karen nodded.
“The previous owners died and that's why no one has bought it since...” Susan looked at her hands, which were knitted together. She looked at her husband again. “The-the husband...he---”
“Susan! That's enough!” The doctor suddenly bellowed.
The four sat in silence for a while. Neither James nor Karen knew what to say. They were desperate to leave but did not want to be rude, especially to the only people in town they knew and who spoke to them without running away.
“I'm sorry.” The doctor finally blurted out. “I did not want to trouble you with the story. The town has tried to move past the tragedy and talking about it like that would not help.”
“Oh, I understand.” Karen said. She didn't. “So, you said you had kids?”
The rest of the even
ing progressed pleasantly enough but Karen’s mind kept wandering back to the talk of the house - and its former inhabitants.
That night, Karen could not sleep. She stared at the ceiling whilst James snored contentedly beside her. She was not scared. She was more curious. Karen resolved to find out more tomorrow of what exactly had happened in this house, but first, a cigarette.
30
The library in Blackwater was, like everything in the town, located on Main Street. It was a Greek-Revival, its grand pillared entrance intimidating all those who passed through it.
“Hello, I'm looking for newspaper articles from ten years ago. Where would I find them?” Karen said to the elderly lady behind the desk.
“All newspapers are kept on microfilm. I’ll show you the room.” She led Karen down a set of stairs behind the desk. There were only a few people in the library, and they were perusing the shelves. Many of them were as old, if not older, than the librarian.
“Now, my dear, what year were you looking and do you know the date?”
Karen didn't know what to say. She did not want to draw any more attention to her and the family so she lied.
“I'm doing a piece for the Boston Globe on small town mysteries. I am looking information on the Blackwater House tragedy from a few years back?”
The librarian removed her glasses with shaking hands. She rubbed the lenses with her light scarf which was tied elegantly round her frail neck.
“Howard Clark killed his family with an axe. Mary, his wife, and their four children, Benjamin, Howie Jr., Jessica and little Dorothy.” She paused. Her hands shook as she replaced her glasses. “I was very fond of them. Terrible shock. Howard always seemed so loving...”
This news disturbed Karen. She was not sure what she expected the story to be, but she had not expected this.
“March 20th 1972. I remember it like it was yesterday. I couldn’t stop crying.” The old librarian put a hand to her mouth. A tear ran down her creviced cheek.
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