The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion

by Roger Hayden

  Curtis crouched down and grabbed a cold water bottle from a cooler below, rising up and handing it to her. “Why don’t you take a seat, have some food, and relax a little.”

  She took a step forward, inches from his face. “I need to go home now. If you want to stay, I’ll gladly call a cab.”

  Curtis paused stunned. He then looked around with his hands out. “A cab out here? Hate to break it to you, but we’re not in Chicago anymore.”

  She turned and began to walk away from him, not saying a word, when his hand went back over her shoulder, stopping her. “Okay! We’ll leave. Just give me a minute.”

  Mary conceded and stood for a moment, waiting as Curtis turned to tell his new group of friends that they had to leave. She could her the man express shock and try to convince him otherwise. Her only hope was that she could duck out without drawing attention of Lucille or any of the other women. Pastor Phil, however, always felt near, and he always seemed to be watching.

  Curtis came to her side, holding his own plate of food and told her he was ready. She led the way at a quick pace, around the side of the church and to the parking lot as the music faded and the general cheer grew more distant. She felt instant relief upon entering the empty cement parking lot. She’d held her end of the deal for the most part. They could go home now. Even with that much obvious she couldn’t place why exactly the ordeal felt like such a chore in the first place. She would need to get to know these people at some point. Why did it feel like such a burden then? What was responsible for her increasing paranoia and antisocial behavior? Something told her that the diary would reveal more of answers and begin to explain why the town was having such a strange effect.

  Chapter Ten

  Warning

  Curtis remained silent as they drove home, clearly perturbed by their hasty departure. Light classic rock played as Mary’s gaze met the passing trees of a long stretch of forest on their way back to the mansion. Out of the heat and the crowd, she felt better but still dazed.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well,” she said to Curtis. There’s always next Sunday.”

  Curtis pursed his lips with an understanding nod. “It’s okay. I mean. We sure made one heck of a first impression running out like that. That’s for damn sure.” He paused with anger rising in his tone, though Mary felt defensive in her own right.

  “What do you want me to say, Curtis? I tried. I told you from the get-go that I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “That’s always the case when there’s something I want to do, isn’t it?” Curtis quipped dismissively.

  “You think I’m making this up?” she said, throwing her hands to the side.

  “Of course not,” he said, slapping the wheel. “But I hoped that you would at least try to make an effort. I’m trying to start a practice out here. I need to make connections. I need to network, and you know that.”

  “I said that you could stay.”

  “That’s not the point,” Curtis said. “Like I’m just going to send you off like that. We have to operate as a team, Mary. That’s how these people are. They’re traditional and old fashioned. It’s everything this town is about.”

  “I think we’re fine being ourselves. You want business, being a phony isn’t going to help,” she said, nearly regretting the last part.

  “Oh, okay!” he said. “I read you loud and clear, Mary. You know my job better than I do. Is that it? You’re going to lecture me now?”

  “Enough,” she said, cutting through the air with her hand like a knife. “I don’t feel like arguing anymore.”

  He said no more as he turned right into the long road way leading to the mansion, bypassing an old, rusty automatic gate that had yet to be repaired. Mary understood his frustration of having to leave so early, but any longer at that barbecue and she was sure she would have passed out. Nonetheless, things were going to be stilted between them the rest of the day. She could already feel it.

  They pulled into the empty courtyard, free of work crews. It seemed as though they were going to have a quiet day after all which was good enough for her. There was much research to be done. She wanted more than anything to prove to Curtis that something was indeed wrong with the house and the very town he had whisked them away to.

  With one glance toward the front door, Mary’s heart seized upon seeing a curious marking painted down its surface.

  “Stop the car,” she said with urgency.

  Curtis halted near the empty fountain, fifteen feet from the door without question as she flew forward, constrained by her seatbelt.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Mary squinted ahead to get a better look. “Oh my God…” she said cupping her mouth with both hands.

  Curtis looked to the side, unsure of what to say. Painted down the middle of their double-door entrance was two thick red intersecting lines of an upside down cross.

  A police cruiser showed up about twenty minutes later with the Chief of Police and his deputy after Curtis had called them. What looked like simple vandalism had a more ominous meaning to Mary. The driver, an older man, stepped out of the car and introduced himself as Chief Benjamin Riley. His partner, Deputy Alex Ramirez, extended his hand as well.

  Chief Riley was older than his young deputy by at least twenty years. Tall and lanky with a gruff demeanor, his silver hair and wrinkled, leathery face exhibited a traditional notion of a small town sheriff. He wore aviator sunglasses and donned a gray short-sleeved uniform and dark slacks amidst his side pistol holster and radio.

  Deputy Ramirez was shorter than the chief, with boyish good looks and a short crop of black hair. Mary remembered seeing the both of them standing outside the police station the week before, wondering if they alone made up the entire police force of Redwood.

  All business, Chief Riley held his clipboard as they stood at the end of the courtyard next to the steps leading to the vandalized door. Ramirez admitted that they both came not only investigate but to meet the new couple everyone was talking about around town.

  “I didn’t realize that we were such celebrities,” Mary said.

  “You certainly are in this town,” Ramirez said, flashing a smile.

  Angered, Curtis pointed to the red upside down cross on their door. “I want to press charges against the punks. Not even here two weeks, and our home has already been vandalized.”

  “Anyone get inside?” the chief asked, scribbling onto his clipboard.

  “Not that I know of,” Curtis said. “I searched every room. No sign of any break in.”

  “Whoever did this had to know that we would be gone,” Mary said.

  Deputy Ramirez glanced up at her with a raised brow. “What makes you say that?”

  Curtis suddenly cut in. “The point is, I want whoever did this charged with trespassing and vandalism. This is unacceptable!”

  Ramirez walked up the steps to take pictures of the door with his pocket-sized digital camera.

  “You might want to get that gate fixed outside first and foremost,” the chief said with his near southern drawl.

  These weren’t kids,” Mary said.

  Their home had been marked with an upside down cross. There was nothing subtle about it. She wondered if it was yet another warning bestowed upon them by unseen forces.

  Curtis turned to her with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I don’t care. I want whoever did it to face charges.”

  “It’s a message,” she continued as Riley and Ramirez stood to the side, reserved to offer their own take. She approached the door and ran her hand down the fresh red paint on the hard wooden surface. “Either a warning or something else.”

  Curtis walked up the steps and stopped near her, clearly not having it. “Mary, please. Someone is toying with us. Probably kids.”

  She glanced at him, unconvinced. “I wish that was the case. I really do.”

  Curtis went back to the two police officers with his hands out, shrugging. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find the perpet
rators, right officers?”

  Deputy Ramirez nodded while scribbling into a pocket-sized notebook. “We can run a search on paint purchases at the hardware store.”

  “Good thinking, Deputy,” the chief added. They both seemed satisfied enough and turned to leave with an assurance that they’d try their best to find the vandals.

  Mary then spun around from the front door with urgency. “Chief Riley!”

  They both stopped as Riley turned around with a pause. She hurried down the stairs, passing Curtis and approached the officers, hands folded together and a worried look stricken across her face.

  “Yes ma’am?” the chief asked, waiting.

  “How long have you lived here, if you don’t mind me asking?” she asked.

  Chief Riley looked up, thinking to himself. “Hm.” His head shifted back in her direction. “About fifteen years at this point.”

  “How about you, Deputy?” she asked Ramirez.

  “My wife and I moved here about five years ago,” he answered.

  Mary turned, signaling toward the mansion. “I’m sure you’re both familiar with the history behind this place.”

  “Sure am,” the chief said, putting a piece of gum in his mouth. “But that was a long time ago.”

  “The Bechdel murders?” Ramirez asked.

  Chief Riley nodded.

  “The case was never solved to my knowledge,” Mary said. “This house is trying to tell us something. I can feel it.” She looked squarely at the chief, imploring him for details. “Is there anything we should know about this place? About this town?”

  Chief Riley cocked his head back and scratched his face. “Well… All can say ma’am is that there’s one cold case that’s just never seen the light of day. But from what I’ve seen we’re certain that nothing like that is going to happen in Redwood again.”

  “Pretty cryptic there, Chief,” Ramirez added.

  “I’m asking for your help,” Mary said, determined. “Is there something I should know?” She paused as his blank expression showed a clear unwillingness to elaborate. “This upside down cross is just the latest in the strange occurrences that have happened since we moved in.”

  Deputy Riley flashed a look of sincerity. “I can tell you this, ma’am. You’re not the first family to raise concerns about this old place.”

  “Families? What other families?” Mary asked, shocked.

  Riley looked at the ground as though he has said too much. Ramirez seemed just as surprised to hear the news.

  “When? Who were they?” she demanded. Her raised voice caught Curtis’s attention as he turned from the door and approached, asking the officers if everything was okay. Mary’s fierce blue eyes remained on the two hesitant officers.

  “Bout ten years ago a family moved in here,” the chief said. “Weren’t here very long from what I hear.”

  “See,” Mary said to Curtis. “I told you there was something going on with this house.”

  Curtis held his arms out. “So? What’s so uncommon about that?”

  “Why has it been vacant for so long?” Mary responded. “Because no one wants to live here. There are forces in the house not to be reckoned with.”

  Curtis scoffed and then tried calm Mary by touching her arm. “Mary. Honey, that’s ridiculous. Think about what you’re saying.”

  The chief and his deputy took a step back and motioned to the Cruiser, eager to not be caught in the middle of any argument.

  “Wait. Please,” Mary said, reaching out to them. The Chief stopped again with a near sigh. “Do you remember their names? The people who lived here?”

  The chief shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. Don’t believe that I do.”

  Mary turned back to Curtis. “The realtor. Mr. Deckers. Maybe he has the records. An old mortgage or deed or something.”

  Curtis simply walked away, unwilling to entertain the notion any longer as Mary approached the two officers, confiding in them. “I’m not trying to pry, Chief. I just want to know why no one wants to discuss this mansion. Pastor Phil had the same reaction. In your honest assessment, do you believe that my husband and I are in any danger?”

  The chief thought to himself, perhaps too long. “No ma’am. I don’t believe that you’re in any danger. Like I said before, that was a long time ago—”

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” she interjected. “Do you either of you have the slightest belief in the supernatural?”

  Chief Riley looked down with a sheepish grin as Deputy Ramirez nodded slightly. “My wife… She used to dabble in that stuff all the time,” the chief said. He suddenly switched to a more serious tone. “But you shouldn’t worry about it. There are no ghosts here. Just a nice, friendly town.” He smiled, exposing two rows of pearly white teeth.

  “Have a good day, ma’am,” Ramirez said as they turned away and walked back to the Cruiser. A police star was painted along the passenger side with Redwood Police Department written in big letters. She thanked them for coming out and stood there as the chief started the car and drove, leaving a faint trail of dusk passing over her as she contemplated her next move.

  ***

  Mary woke up the next morning to find Curtis up and seemingly out the door in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. They hadn’t said much to each other the day prior, now he was leaving without even telling her. Something was up.

  “Where are you going?” she said, rubbing her eyes.

  He stopped at the door and turned with a faint smile.

  “It’s Monday,” he said. “Got to go to work.”

  Mary rose from the bed, tossing the covers to the side. “What are you talking about?”

  Curtis walked back to the bed with his sarcastic smirk. “I may not have an office, or an assistant, or any clients, but I’ve got to start somewhere.” He strolled toward the bed and leaned against one of the end posts. “Don’t you agree?”

  Mary looked around the vastness just within their master bedroom. “Why not just open an office in one of the rooms? We’ve got plenty of them.”

  “I need to be out there,” he said, pointing out the window. “Out in the public. I plan to look into office space today.”

  Downstairs, they both had separate studies—Curtis with his oak desk, legal books, and computer and Mary with her drawing table, tablet, and art work handing on the walls. Her office was her workspace, whereas Curtis worked outside the home, and with one car between them, she was pretty much stuck there throughout the day.

  “The electrician should be here later today to look at that bad wiring in the kitchen,” Curtis continued.

  “Okay,” Mary said, getting out of bed with a stretch. “Good luck today. The courthouse could be looking big city public defender. You never know.”

  “That’d be three steps back for me, but it’s on the list.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card, holding it out to her as she examined it, smile widening. On the car was a mid-section profile of Curtis in a nice suit smiling with an American flag backdrop with his name and number advertising Malone Law Firm.

  “When did you have these made?” she said, looking down with wonder.

  “Just a prototype of what’s to come,” he said.

  “Law offices downtown?” she said, handing him the card back. “That’s pretty vague.”

  “Yeah…” he admitted with a laugh. “Like I said. Just a prototype.”

  Mary wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  He rubbed back with his own apology. “It’s okay. We’re going to get through this together.”

  “I’ll tell Pastor Phil what happened.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Curtis said. He looked into her eyes with genuine conviction. “I’ve been doing some thinking… Obviously I want all of this to work, but if you have real concerns about this house…” He then paused, shaking his head with a compromise that shocked her. “…If you’re uncomfortable here, we can always cut our losses and sell the pl
ace.”

  Her mouth nearly dropped to the floor. “You’re serious?”

  “Of course I am. I moved us here, and if this doesn’t work out it falls completely on me. ”

  Part of her suspected Curtis of employing some kind of psychological reverse trick on her where she would have no choice but to embrace their life in Redwood. Could she alone be responsible for uprooting them again to another town or city where the same problems may or may not persist? His hazel eyes, however, said differently. He looked completely ready to do whatever she wanted.

  “No…” she said. “I want to give this a chance. You know that I have my reservations, but I just want answers.”

  “And I want to help,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

  “Of course I do,” she said.

  He then glanced at his watch and stood up to leave. She couldn’t believe he had nearly snuck out of the room the first time. “I’ll call someone to paint that crap off our door today too.”

  Mary waved him off. “No, that’s all right. The painters left some buckets in the garage. I’ll take care of that today.”

  “If you prefer,” he said with a quick hug and kiss on her forehead. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “What time will you be home?” she asked.

  He went to the night stand and grabbed his wallet. “Later this afternoon. I can’t believe I almost forgot this.” Distracted, he then turned to her. “We’ll work out this car situation too. No mass transit here, that’s for sure.”

  “We don’t have the money for another car,” she said.”

  He stopped at the door, hand against the frame and spoke with reassuring calm. “We’ll figure something out. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” she said.

  He was out the door in a flash as she stood there in her a gray Hanes T-shirt and underwear. Their heavy curtains blocked most of the sunlight outside and the room was still somewhat dark. A glance at the alarm clock on the stand next to her bed showed it as being ten past nine. She had the entire mansion to herself and the entire day to do whatever she wanted. Though, she knew the most important thing was to begin the illustrations for the next children’s book.