by Connie Myres
“Thank you, Eddie, but I can’t take your telephone. I’ll be fine here for one night without one.”
“You’re taking it,” Eddie said, continuing to hold it out until Mary took it from his hand.
“I’ll come back out to the house tomorrow and take you into town,” Moose said. “Is nine in the morning fine for me to arrive? I have a fishing charter in the afternoon.”
“That would be fine, Moose.”
Eddie leaned forward. “When you get your phone tomorrow, you could also call the Simmons.”
“I’ll think about it.” Mary stood up. “Okay you two lollygaggers, let’s get the outside inspection done before it gets dark.”
Eddie stood up. “I haven’t seen the keys to the Simmons cottage.”
“I bet I know where they hid the spare,” Moose said, looking down at the bench after he stood as if making sure it was still intact.
The three of them walked outside and down the paved path to the Simmons quaint cottage.
Eddie tested the door. “At least they locked it.”
Moose lifted a ceramic garden gnome by its red pointy hat. “Yep, just as I thought.” He reached down and picked up a key. He handed the dirty key to Eddie. “Here ya go.”
Eddie wiped off the key before placing it into the lock.
When they walked inside, it was obvious the Simmons were not planning on returning. There were no personal belongings, the refrigerator was empty, and the rooms were clean and ready for the next occupants.
“Yep, I didn’t think they were returning,” Moose said.
“Mr. Stine thought the Simmons wanted to stay and help,” Mary said.
“Maybe if you ask them, they’ll come back,” Eddie said.
“Mary, you could always stay here,” Moose said, “if that big ol’ house gets to ya. It does have a—rotten—reputation.”
“Not again, Moose,” Eddie said. “Please stop making the mansion sound like a house of horrors.”
Moose shrugged.
Chapter 5
Mary and Pickles watched Daisy Dancer carry the men back to the mainland before walking back inside the mansion. The sun was about to set, leaving a dull gray cast over Shadow Island. A white squiggly line of light cast by the rising moon over the water made it clear it would be dark soon.
“Let’s get inside, Pickles,” Mary said, watching lightning bugs streak across the yard.
Once inside, Mary locked the door, leaving one key on the small entry table. She took the other key into the library with her and sat it on the desk beside the paperwork that Eddie had left. With the time-consuming inspection of the house and grounds, Mary and Eddie hadn’t had time to go through all the paperwork, even the envelope left by her great-uncle lay unopened on the pile.
Mary sat at the desk. She looked briefly at the mansion blueprints, the family history Mr. Stine and Eddie had gathered, and other miscellaneous papers: the contractors who re-roofed the house a decade ago, information about the furnace put in even a longer time ago, and other things that did not concern her now. She would file away the documents later.
Mary picked up the manila envelope from her great uncle, debating whether to open it now or wait until morning. With all the things she had heard about the house, she didn’t want to be afraid to sleep in it her first night here, especially since she was alone.
“Ah, what am I worried about? It’s nothing. How bad can it be; it’s only a letter.” Mary opened the envelope and pulled out a handwritten sheet of paper. The fancy writing was not going to be easy to read but she would do her best. She adjusted her glasses and read.
To my dear Mary. We have never met, and I am sorry for that. I hope you can forgive me.
“It wasn’t all your fault, great uncle.”
I told the lawyer, Mr. Stine, about our family and instructed him to tell you so I will not go into it all again. I am ill, and it is a struggle to write this. But what I do want you to know is not easy to talk about.
First, let me say I’m not crazy, but what I want you to know is that our family is cursed and Mary that includes you. Zachariah De Moen put a curse on Humphry McMaster and we were so lucky to be included in the malediction. He wanted tragedy and death to befall us all, including you. I don’t know what troubles you have had in your life, but now that you are at the estate I fear they will increase.
I don’t know if it’s old man Zachariah himself suffering here in purgatory to bring misfortune to us, or if he conjured a demon. Yes, I said demon.
I wear a crucifix to protect myself and will leave it for you—-please wear it. It is a special crucifix, blessed by an exorcist priest, specifically for protection against the curse. I can only assume that is why I’m dying in my bed and not hanging from the chandelier with a noose around my neck. I don’t want you to befall the same fate as the rest of our family.
Mary put her hand in the envelope and turned it upside down, but there was nothing else inside. “Where is the rosary?” She felt through the stack of papers and looked in the desk drawers, but there was no cross. She went back to the letter.
One more thing, the Simmons have been both a blessing and a curse. I have never really known why they hung around all this time, on this island and in this house, but they have cared for me to the end.
There is one more thing. This is a large mansion and there are hidden rooms and corridors not shown on any blueprint. There is one room you must never enter. It is—
“What? I can’t read what this says.” It was as though Horace had dozed off during his writing, leaving a few illegible words next to a long line as if the paper had been ripped from his hands before he could disclose the location of the hidden room.
Chapter 6
“Enough of this nonsense; right, Pickles?” Mary looked down at her feet where she thought she felt Pickles brush against her shins, but he was standing over by the French doors, wanting outside.
“This is the last time you’re going out for the day,” Mary said, opening the door. Pickles trotted outside, back to the flowers and began to sniff around, running his nose along the ground and through the flowerbed—having never been raked clean.
Mary closed the door and walked to the kitchen to see what Moose had put away. She found the basics: whole wheat bread, shaved ham, potato salad and several bottles of water. There were several other items, enough to keep her belly filled for a few days. Mr. Stine—or more likely his secretary—even thought to send a small hotel sized coffee maker and a small can of Columbian coffee.
“I must send Mr. Stine a thank you note. If it weren’t for his foresight, I’d be eating the canned food in the pantry—-or the same piece of scrap food that Pickles found on the floor earlier.”
Mary brewed a single serving of coffee and poured it into one of the Styrofoam cups left on the counter by Moose. She sipped the brew while wandering around the downstairs, examining the paintings, figurines, and the old but sturdy furniture. Mary began walking to the library when she tripped, spilling some of the coffee in her cup onto the floor. She looked back to see what she had tripped on—it was Pickles, standing there staring at her.
“How’d you get in here? I thought for sure I closed the door.” Mary walked back to the library and found the door to the garden wide open. “I must not have closed it tight enough.”
Mary closed and locked the door, briefly peering into the garden. No one was there, of course. She just had to be more careful when closing the doors in such an old house.
After Mary cleaned the spilled coffee, she walked back to the kitchen and threw the paper towels away in the trash can under the sink. She looked at the door leading to the servants’ quarters and decided to make sure the one leading outside was locked and not wide open like the library door, but why would it be? Eddie had made sure it was secure, didn’t he?
Mary turned on the light to the staircase and checked the back door, it was locked just like it should be. Pickles stayed behind as Mary climbed the steps. “I might as well throw
away that stinky doll while I’m here.”
When she got to the bedroom, she flipped on the light. She frowned when she saw that the doll was not on the desktop where she had left it.
“I’m sure I left it right here,” Mary said, running a hand along the surface. She looked under the desk and around the room but could not find the doll. “If I find that thing back on the wall again, I’ll know I’m losing my mind.”
Mary walked out of the room and slowly turned to look at the wall by the stairs leading up to the third floor. She sighed with relief when she saw the nail had nothing hanging from it. But where did the doll go?
Her weak heart almost stopped, it at least skipped a beat or two, when she saw the doll leaning against the wall near the stairs she had just climbed. “No way. I did not leave that doll there.” She walked slowly up to it, her brain trying to come up with a logical explanation about how it got there. Eddie probably moved it and set it down when he couldn’t stand the smell of it.
Pickles was growling. Mary looked down at the bottom landing where something was bothering the normally docile pooch. “What are you upset about?”
Mary picked up the doll. “Ouch, you just stuck me, you nasty doll.”
Mary stomped down the steps and tossed the doll into the garbage can next to the coffee-soaked paper towels.
“There, tomorrow you’re going to be used as kindling in the fireplace.”
Chapter 7
Dressed in her nightgown, Mary walked into her bedroom, the one she had chosen at the top of the second-floor stairway. She walked over to the window and lifted the sash, letting the fresh night air flow into the stuffy room. Outside, Mary heard crickets and the distant rhythmical lapping of waves. How soothing, she thought. She would have no difficulty falling asleep.
It took Pickles a couple attempts to jump onto the high bed, but he finally made it, settling down at the foot where Mary had already laid his doggy blanket.
Mary turned off the light and got into bed, pulling a light blanket up to her chest. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the house. A click here and a tap there were normal old house sounds. A ground level clock ticked away the time. She turned on her side and closed her eyes.
MARY OPENED HER EYES when Pickles began to growl.
“Pickles, would you be quiet and go to sleep; there’s nothing out there.” Or so Mary thought until she heard what sounded like something scurrying across the hall downstairs. It sounded too heavy to be a mouse. A rat? Great God, there are rodents in the house. But it didn’t sound like a rat unless the rodent happened to wear something on its feet that made a scratching noise. What else could it be?
Fearing the critter might climb the stairs, Mary got up and closed the bedroom door. No sooner had she climbed back into bed when she heard it climbing the stairs. It couldn’t get in the room unless it knew how to turn doorknobs, but it still left Mary feeling uneasy. A fairly large animal was running around the mansion, she would call rodent control in the morning. Moose was stopping by around nine, maybe he could recommend someone from Anisteem.
While Mary lay there listening to the thing roaming the house, her curiosity wanted to turn on the lights and see exactly what was running around out there, but she was exhausted, and safe for now.
Chapter 8
Mary had a fresh pot of coffee—albeit a small one—brewing when she saw Moose docking the Daisy Dancer. Someone was with him, a young woman. “I’ll bet that’s Madisyn,” she said, walking down the path to greet them.
“Mary, I’d like you to meet my niece, Madisyn,” Moose said, walking down the dock.
“I thought as much,” Mary said, extending a welcoming hand. “Nice to meet you, Madisyn.”
“Likewise,” the pretty young woman said. “My uncle said you were going to call me today and ask if I’d like to help you around the estate. He said it would be a nice surprise if I rode along; I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, how silly to think so. And your uncle is correct, I was going to ask you if you’d like to stay here with me and help out. Nothing too strenuous, mostly just needing a little company in this big old house.”
“Oh, that must be Pickles. He’s so cute,” Madisyn said, smiling ear to ear. “Is it alright if I pet him?”
Pickles wagged his curled tail as Madisyn gently stroked the top of his head and along his back.
“Madisyn loves animals,” Moose said, holding a large duffel bag. “When she was a kid, she wanted to nurse every baby bird and bunny that got too far away from the nest. Her mother wouldn’t let her because of diseases wild animals can carry, or something like that, but she’ll take good care of Pickles.”
“I have no doubt. I can tell Pickles has already taken to her—Madisyn must stay.”
Madisyn looked back at the mainland and then at the stately mansion. “I’d be happy to stay and help you.”
“Here’s your bag, Maddie.” Moose handed her the duffel bag. “I knew it would be okay, so I told her to come prepared to stay for the summer.”
“To be honest, I don’t know what all I’ll have you do, Madisyn, but I will give you a generous weekly wage, so don’t worry about that.”
“Oh, I’m not worried. I feel rather guilty because this is going to feel more like play than work.”
They began walking up to the house when Moose said, “So how’d you sleep, your first night in the house?”
“I slept fine but there’s a rat or something running around the house. I was going to ask you if you could recommend an exterminator.”
“Yeah, I know someone, but I can take a look if you like. We never did go through the basement.”
“To tell you the truth,” Mary said as they climbed onto the porch. “I don’t even know where the door to the basement is. Eddie left blueprints to the house, they should show us.”
“I have an idea where it’s at,” Moose said, following Mary and Madisyn inside the house. “It’s over here behind the staircase.” He opened the door and flipped a switch. The lights flickered on, showing somewhat rickety steps that led down into the cavernous space. “If a critter’s getting inside, it’s probably coming in through the basement and then following the pipes and wires into the house; mice can squeeze through the tiniest spaces.”
“I apologize, Moose, but I don’t know where a flashlight is,” Mary said, looking into the shadows. Then she remembered her great uncle’s letter. “Moose, have you heard of secret passages and rooms in the mansion?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ve heard tell of it, but I don’t know where they are; I could probably figure it out for you if you like. Why do you ask?”
“I was going through some of my great uncle’s paperwork and there was mention of it.”
“I can research it for you, too,” Madisyn said, setting her duffel bag on the floor. “I’d love to find them, it’d be awesome to see what was inside.”
Then Mary remembered that Horace’s letter ended before he could tell the reason for even mentioning them. She had no idea if—or when—they found the rooms, what would be inside. “If you figure it out, don’t go inside without me with you; there could be an infestation of rodents—or something.”
Chapter 9
“Let’s check the basement, Moose,” Mary said, motioning for Moose to continue down the basement steps.
Mary and Madisyn waited until the hulking man was almost on the last step before they walked down behind him. There was not much to see: old furniture, disintegrating boxes, and an old workbench covered in cobwebs.
Moose turned on his phone’s flashlight and shined it into corners and along the foundation. “That basement window isn’t very tight, the rascals could be getting in through there.”
“There’s a ladder over there,” Madisyn said, shining her own cell phone light onto an old wooden ladder leaning against the wall.
Moose positioned the ladder, wobbling under his weight, near the window. Mary held it as he worked on the window for a few minutes.
“This will help for now, but it’ll need to be replaced. I’ll bet a lot of the windows down here are like this.”
“I’ll add it to my growing to do list,” Mary said.
Moose put the ladder back where it had been. “I have some traps I can bring out and set up for you. They’re meant for rodents like groundhogs, but as big as that gap in the window was, who knows what could’ve made its way in here.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be nice, Moose. That rodent I heard running around seemed different than the typical rat...I suppose it could’ve been a groundhog.”
“You mean there could be a groundhog running loose in the house?” Madisyn said, swallowing hard.
“I don’t know what it was, but I’ll be happy when we catch it,” Mary said. “A little rat poison might not hurt either.”
Mary heard the cell phone that Eddie had loaned her ringing upstairs. “They’ll have to leave a message. Besides, it’s probably for Eddie, anyway.”
Then Moose’s phone rang.
“Hello,” Moose answered. “I can do it tomorrow. Hold on, I’ll check with Mary, she’s right here.” Moose lowered the phone from his ear. “Eddie wants to know if you will go into Anisteem with him tomorrow so that you can get a phone and some other things you might need. I can be out around nine again.”
“That would be fine. Let him know that Madisyn will be joining us.”
Moose finished the call. “I’ll bring those traps when I come back in the morning.”
Mary nodded. “We’ll worry about the rest of the basement later. Right now, Madisyn can choose the bedroom she’d like to have so that she can put away her belongings and start to feel at home.”
