What Happened to Anna?

by Jennifer Robins

  Andrea tried to stay calm, although she trembled a bit. She forced a smile and began to talk very fast. “It might have been your imagination, or it could have been noises in this old house. You know how old houses are.” She wrung her hands together as she spoke. “They make all sorts of weird sounds, especially at night and early in the morning. After all, the house is over a hundred years old. The floors creak, the walls make funny sounds, and the windows rattle.” Andrea kept rambling on about the old house until Peg reached across the table for her hands.

  “Okay already. You convinced me. It’s the old, creaky house trying to fool me into thinking I heard someone crying. Now, what’s for breakfast?”

  It wasn’t easy for Andrea to get through the breakfast. Peg’s questioning had sent her into a dither. John took notice of her jitters when she almost spilled the orange juice on the table. “What is the matter, Andrea? You seem awfully edgy.”

  She forced a half smile. “It’s nothing, just a little tired. That’s all.”

  Peg scurried around the kitchen, helping Andrea with the dishes while chattering about the new grandchild she and Tom were expecting soon. Thankfully, she didn’t say another word about the morning’s experience.

  Andrea couldn’t stop thinking about the photograph. She hadn’t planned to tell anyone else about it, but the urge got the better of her. She just had to show Peg. “Come upstairs, Peg, I have something I want to show you.”

  Peg followed her to the bedroom. She took the old wooden box out of the closet and set it on the bed. Peg looked on with interest. Excited, she began to tell the story. “I found this box hidden under the floorboards up in the attic.” She took the photograph out of the box and handed it to Peg. “Here, take a look at this.”

  Holding it out in front of her Peg’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh, wow, Andrea, this woman looks a lot like you! Where did it come from? Do you know who it is?”

  At least Peg could see the remarkable resemblance, even if John hadn’t, and that made Andrea relieved. It convinced her she had not lost her mind, and the woman in the photograph really did look just like her. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s the first woman who ever lived in this house.” She reached in the box and took out the Bible. “Look at what’s written in this Bible. I think it’s the woman named Anna.”

  “It sure seems that way. It’s amazing how much she looks like you.” Peg began to rummage through the box, inspecting the other items. “Did you show this to John?”

  “You know how John is. He thought the woman resembled me somewhat, but he didn’t make much of it.” She stared at the photograph while Peg inspected the other items. “I’m glad you agree with me. I was beginning to think I imagined it, or I was going crazy. I know one thing — it gave me a really strange feeling when I saw it for the first time.”

  “What are you going to do with all of these things?” Peg asked.

  With a deep sigh, Andrea paused to give it a thought. “I’m not sure. John seems to think the jewelry has some value, which I don’t care about, but that woman in the photograph and these things in the box have stirred my curiosity. I went to the library to find the history of the house, but it only gave the names of the owners who lived here until the last few years. I think I’ll learn more from the historical society. I’ll call the woman who runs it on Tuesday. She’s out of town for the weekend.” She gazed at the photograph for a moment, then heard the men downstairs, shouting for them to come back down. “Okay, okay already!”

  The men were obviously restless and wanted to get on with the tour of the town, so Andrea put everything back in the box and placed it once again on the closet floor. They all got ready, left the house, and headed for town.

  ****

  Their first stop, John’s new office, was right around the corner from the town square. Tom and Peg were very impressed with the layout. “This is great, John,” Tom said. “You really did it up nicely. I like the modern decor, but if it were me, I would’ve gone with early American or provincial. I can tell Andrea had nothing to do with this. She likes the old stuff, like me.”

  John chuckled. “You got that right, Tom.”

  Next they were off to the square, and then out to the beautiful countryside. Tom and Peg sat in the back seat, talking and laughing with John about silly things. Andrea remained quiet, gazing out the side window of the car while deep in thought about the photograph and how she felt when she held it.

  After a long drive, some wonderful scenery, and a lot of lively chitchat, John turned back toward the house. “Why so quiet, Andrea?” Peg asked. “You haven’t said but a few words since we left the house.”

  Andrea turned around to face her. “Oh, just listening to all of you talk. Besides, who can get a word in with this chatterbox husband of mine?”

  Peg laughed. “Well, you’re right about that.”

  Andrea tried her best to keep her feelings and thoughts to herself and pretend there was nothing wrong. She didn’t want any of them to know how preoccupied she’d become.

  ****

  That night, they had a wonderful roast beef dinner Peg had helped Andrea prepare. Then they went out on the patio to enjoy their coffee and engage in more of the fun conversation that came when they got together. John jumped right in with a tale about Peg from their childhood. “I was eight years old. She had me tell our parents she was going to sleep over at a friend’s house, but she didn’t want them to know who — one of her girlfriends they didn’t like, who happened to have an older brother that my big sister here had a crush on.”

  Lively conversation went on as Andrea sat quietly, trying to pay attention. But thoughts of the photograph and the piercing memory of the crying woman haunted her.

  ****

  In bed that night, Andrea lay awake for hours. She tossed and turned a long time before finally dozing off, only to wake several times thinking she’d heard something. She would sit up and listen, but hear only the silence of the night. Then she would go back to sleep, only to awaken after a short time. This went on until daybreak.

  Up and out of bed at the crack of dawn, Andrea went down to the kitchen, thinking she would have some time to herself. To her surprise, Peg sat at the table with a cup of coffee and a big smile on her face.

  “Sit down and relax, Andrea. It’s my turn to fix breakfast. You’ve done enough for us, so let me have a turn.”

  Andrea sat at the table. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes. We were very comfortable. It’s nice and quiet here. Both of us were so tired we slept like babies.”

  Relieved to hear Peg talking cheerfully, Andrea relaxed. Obviously she hadn’t heard any disturbances in the house that morning. She didn’t want her guests upset with noises that couldn’t be explained. Her deepest concern — that the house could be haunted, and Peg and Tom would become aware of it — had her on the edge of her seat. She needed time to look into the possibility of such a thing. It was difficult to imagine a ghost dwelling within the walls of her new home. The thought of a spirit crying out for attention gave her chills.

  By the time the men came down for breakfast, Peg had everything ready. They talked and laughed as they enjoyed eggs, pancakes, and bacon. After breakfast, the guys went out back to inspect the grapevines and trees. John was very fond of gardening. Looking at Tom, he asked, “What do you think of this yard?”

  “It’s nice, but boy are you going to have a lot of work. Wait until you find yourself spending most of your life out here trying to keep up with it. Tell me how great it is then.”

  As the morning wore on, Andrea lightened up a little and joined the conversation, even managing a laugh or two. They had fun looking at the family pictures Peg and Tom had brought and remembering all the pleasant past times together. That evening, the men prepared a delightful barbecue dinner. The photograph and her terrible fear of ghosts faded from her thoughts as she enjoyed the time with her guests.

  Evening hours found the four of them settled at the dining roo
m table for a game of pinochle, their favorite game. Tom dealt the first hand. “Now, come on, Peg, you’re my partner. We’re going to show them how it’s done.”

  “Don’t count on it, Tom,” Andrea told him. “John and I beat you two the last time we played, remember?” They all laughed as Tom shook his head. Chuckling a little, she darted glances from one to the other.

  Five consecutive games later, Peg yawned. “What time is it?” she asked.

  The clock on the wall read almost one. “It’s late, all right.” John folded his hand. “Time to hit the sack.”

  “Well, I’ve had it.” Tom threw his cards on the table. They were all ready to call it quits and agreed to retire and get some rest. They wanted to attend Sunday Mass the following morning.

  ****

  All four slept in late. It was ten o’clock when Andrea woke. “John!” she shouted as she nudged him on the shoulder. “Wake up, we’re going to be late for church. I’ll go get Tom and Peg up.”

  She hurried to the guest room while struggling to put her robe on. Knocking on the door, she shouted, “Wake up, you two! It’s after ten, and we have to get to church before the twelve o’clock Mass.” John and Andrea were not consistent about going to church every Sunday, but Peg and Tom were adamant Sunday attendants.

  Everyone hurried to shower and have a fast cup of coffee. It was almost eleven-thirty when they left the house. They arrived at the square just before noon. The streets of the square were lined with cars. John drove down a side street to find a place to park. They walked briskly to the church and hurried inside. The pews were filled—they had to stand along the wall as Mass got underway.

  Due to a parish member passing away that week, the priest started the Mass with prayers for the dead, mentioning the name of the deceased parishioner. Andrea began to think of the ghost in the house and wondered if the woman she’d heard crying could be Anna. The thought of that mournful sobbing gave Andrea something more to think about.

  She listened to the priest say words of prayer for the dead. “And may he rest in peace,” the priest said.

  Yes please, and stay out of my house.

  ****

  That afternoon, the wonderful weather — sunny and warm, with a soft breeze blowing across the yard — inspired them to play a game of croquet on the back lawn. Afterward, they all sat back on the new patio chairs and spent some leisure time talking, looking once again at the pictures Peg had brought along, and enjoying the pleasant summer day.

  It was the Fourth of July, and John had been told by the girls in his office where the fireworks show would be held that night — a large ball field across town. They’d assured him that he’d have no problem locating it. “Just follow the crowd,” Gale had told him.

  Peg and Tom planned to leave right after the fireworks, so they could spend that next day

  with their family in PA. John helped Tom load their luggage into the car while the women packed some sandwiches and goodies to take with them on their drive home.

  Once Tom had his car packed, he and John enjoyed a last-minute beer together, and then they drove to the ball field in separate cars. John led the way, with Tom following close behind. People were seated in folding chairs, on blankets, and on flat pillows laid out on the grassy area of the field. Andrea opened a blanket she’d brought and spread it out.

  It was a perfect evening, warm and balmy, clear skies overhead — great for fireworks.

  At dusk, they began an outstanding performance. Sky rockets and flares shot up high in the sky above a multitude of ground displays. The grand finale consisted of great explosions both in the air and on the ground. The finale display depicted the American flag — a brilliant sight.

  To avoid the stampede of people leaving the ballpark, they waited until it cleared out some before going to their cars. Because of the heavy traffic at the ball field, they drove to the square to say their goodbyes. In the cool of the night, the full moon cast a bright glow on the square. They hugged each other, and then Peg and Tom got into their car and drove away.

  On the way home, John teased Andrea by reaching for her and pulling her close to him. She struggled to keep the seat belt from crushing her with his every tug while she played along by pretending to push his hand away as she scooted further over to the door. “I know what you’re up to, you dirty old man.” She laughed.

  Once they pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, John picked her up and carried her to the door. She giggled like a schoolgirl. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too crazy now?”

  He set her down in the foyer and embraced her. She stepped away from him and ran up the stairs, laughing. He followed without hesitation. At the bedroom door, he grabbed her around the waist and began to smother her with kisses. His hot breath on her neck and cheeks brought a tingling sensation down her spine. Passionately, she pressed her lips to his.

  In the bedroom, Andrea proceeded to tease him with a little stripper routine as she took off her clothes one piece at a time. John sat on the bed, watching her eagerly. After they made love, they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had been a wonderful weekend.

  Chapter Three

  They slept late the next morning. When they woke, the sun shone brightly through the bedroom window. It looked like a perfect day for yard work. After Andrea fixed them a nice breakfast, John went out to use his new tools, ready to make some serious agricultural changes.

  Andrea went upstairs to collect soiled laundry. She stripped the beds and took the clothes from the hamper, putting them in a basket. While in the bedroom alone, she thought about the photograph. She opened the closet door and reached for the wooden box. Gently, she lifted it out and held it in front of her. Her eyes became fixed on the figure portrayed on the heavy cardboard-like paper.

  As her stare became more intense, she began to have a vision. The room around her took on an entirely different appearance. No longer was it the house she knew. A large grandfather clock stood outside the bedroom door. The hallway was covered with a thick burgundy rug decorated with a white flower pattern. The long windows at each end were hung with red velvet drapes, pulled back with braided gold ties. An upholstered, high-backed chair sat elegantly beside the clock, its varnished legs ending in elaborate clawed feet. A small round table stood nearby, adorned with a lace doily and a crystal vase. Several paintings hung along the walls of the staircase, displaying beautiful landscapes and portraits she had never seen before.

  After a split second, the vision faded and she was back in front of the closet, holding the photograph. What had just taken place frightened her. Never had anything like that happened to her before. It hadn’t been a dream — it seemed so real she could detect an odor she thought to be the smell of lamp oil.

  Quickly she put the photograph back in the box and closed the closet door. She hurried out of the bedroom with the laundry, down the stairs to the kitchen. She set the basket on the floor and then sat at the table. Still frightened and very confused, she tried to regain her composure. Maybe she was losing her mind.

  Finally, she stood up and walked to the sink for a glass of cold water. She could see John outside through window over the sink, pulling weeds in the flowerbed.

  Still trembling, she picked up the laundry basket and headed for the laundry room. As she entered, she noticed the cellar door stood ajar. She hadn’t opened it — she neither needed nor cared to venture down there. The cellar was damp and musty. The only thing it had ever been used for was storing wine, as far as she knew. Maybe John left it open. She pushed it tightly shut.

  She went through the motions of setting up the washing machine while her thoughts lingered on the vision she’d had up in the bedroom. She didn’t understand. It must have something to do with the photograph, but how? And why?

  By noon, John came in for something to eat. “It’s getting very warm out there,” he remarked as he went to the sink to wash his hands. “I hope there’s something cold in the fridge. I’m parched.”

&nb
sp; Andrea opened the refrigerator to take out the lunchmeat and cheese. Her hands were still shaking, but she didn’t want John to know about the situation. The assorted meats and cheese she had set on the counter gave them much to choose from.

  He wanted a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich. “I’m so hungry,” he said. “Is there any potato salad or baked beans left from the weekend? If there is, I’ll have some of that too.” He guzzled down half of the tall glass of lemonade she’d set in front of him.

  While John ate, he talked about the yard. “It’s great, but a lot of work. I think once I get it in shape, it won’t be so hard to keep up.” He frowned when he saw her hand shaking. “What’s the matter?”

  She stepped back from the table. “Nothing, it’s nothing.” She forced a smile. “I guess the weekend was a little too much for me, with all the moving and everything. Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”

  “What do you mean it’s nothing?” he insisted. “Why are you shaking?” He looked very worried as he stared at her.

  “I must be hungry, that’s all. You know how you can get when you’re really hungry.” Then she went to the refrigerator, took out a piece of chicken, and sat at the table with him.

  He seemed to accept her excuse and continued to talk about the grapevines out back. “We’ll have a lot of grapes. I’d like to try my luck at making wine. Peg knows how — I’ll pick her brain.”

  Andrea thought of the wine racks in the cellar. She wondered if Anna had made wine when she’d lived here. Maybe she and her husband Joseph had installed the wine racks.

  The bell on the dryer rang to let Andrea know the sheets were dry. They smelled fresh as she carried them up the stairs half-folded and draped over her arm. The soft breeze from the open window filled the bedroom with the intoxicating scent of the lilacs below. John had gone back out to the rear yard.