Fallen Stones

by Thomas M. Malafarina

  "Well," the lawyer replied, "as I have often heard said, 'No matter how many people are with us at the end, we all truly die alone.' Perhaps that's an accurate statement. I really don't know." The lawyer was now completely satisfied to see he had successfully smoothed things over, at least for the time being. So, before Stephanie could offer a reply, he directed them into the master bedroom suite.

  As Armstrong prepared to open the master bedroom door, he stopped and turned to the couple saying, "I have to warn you all about something. As I said earlier, Mr. Washburn was losing touch with reality toward the end of his life. And even though this master bedroom area is new and was added on as part of the restoration, and should, in fact appear modern, bright and cheery, it sadly does not.

  “Mr. Washburn became completely obsessed with surrounding himself with any paintings, furniture, carpets; anything that was original to the property. So you may find yourself a bit shocked with the bedroom." Then he reached down and slowly opened the door to the master bedroom: Washburn's private sanctuary.

  If either Stephanie or Jason were still feeling any residual apprehension at the oddly familiar decor throughout the rest of the house, they quickly forgot their anxiety when they saw the interior of Washburn’s private space. It may have been a new addition to the property, but as the lawyer had warned, there was absolutely nothing modern about the interior design.

  The room was about as far from their decorative tastes as it could possibly be. The space was large, and as Armstrong had said earlier, it occupied the entire width of the home and was at least twenty feet deep. However, there was very little light in the room due to a wall of heavy dark drapes, which covered every window in the room. There was a dank, musty and stale old sort of smell to the room as if the furniture and draperies were aged and antique. The funky, almost foul scent reminded Stephanie of the odor often found in old libraries, whose shelves were lined with ancient tomes.

  Seeing the unpleasant and surprised expression on the couple's faces, Armstrong suggested, "As I said, Mr. Washburn was a bit odd. The good news is you will be happy to know that money has already been set-aside for you to redecorate this room to your own personal tastes. Mr. Washburn wanted to occupy this space in a manner that came as close as possible to the same state the bedroom would have been in, when your great-grandparents lived here. Although the Livingston's actual bedroom was never as grand or as large as this bedroom, the location of the original bedroom was right here.

  "Once the addition was finished," the lawyer said, "he had it painted and wall papered to match the original design of the bedroom. Then he literally brought in this hideous original worn-out carpeting and the very furniture they used.

  "I would recommend whenever you do redecorate this space that you take advantage of the windows Mr. Washburn had installed along the back wall." With that being said, the lawyer walked over and pulled back the drapes to flood the room with afternoon sunlight. The room looked even more dismal, if that was possible in the pristine light. Every single beam of sunlight flooding across the room was awash with billions of moving dust particles.

  As the outside light continued to wash through the room, Stephanie saw her original impression was correct. The room was filled with antique furniture and thick old carpeting, which was thread bear and tattered. It looked like the room of an elderly pauper rather than a multimillionaire. She realized this was likely what the entire house had looked like when Washburn had taken ownership. It served to help her appreciate what an enormous feat the renovation was; even more then she previously realized.

  The lawyer asked them to come over to the back wall where he stood so he could to show them the incredible view it provided of the rear of the property through a panoramic wall of glass. In the center were two tall glass doors, which opened onto a massive second-story deck constructed of some type of plastic no maintenance composite material.

  Stephanie walked toward the windows and looked out onto the vast expanse of land behind the property. She saw several outbuildings, none of which were run-down but instead all appeared to be as new and pristine as if they had just recently been built. One of the buildings in particular caught her attention; one which was far off to the right in the distance. It was strangely hexagonal in shape. She felt a similar strong attraction to the building as she had with the loft area. Somehow, she knew it as a building constructed for her to enjoy. She would make sure they learned more about that odd structure.

  Directly below the deck, she caught a glimpse of the enormous in-ground swimming pool surrounded by concrete, patterned and colored to resemble stone. She also saw a large area next to the pool with a roof shading it. Inside she thought she had not only seen an outdoor grill but what she suspected might possibly be a complete outdoor kitchen. Still somewhat overwhelmed by all she had seen so far, she turned to re-examine the master bedroom.

  Even with the light pouring in through the window wall, the room still had a very dark and depressing feel to it. The original furniture and period décor was overtly masculine with large heavy-looking walnut pieces and worn carpeting in shades of dark maroon, blue and gray patterns. The large bed was covered in thick blankets in various equally dark hues. Likewise, the wallpaper in the large room was of a strange pattern, indiscernible from where she stood, but Stephanie could tell it was just as gloomy and old-fashioned as the rest of the room.

  A few old paintings hung on the wall, appearing to be mostly nighttime scenes and rural landscapes in thick, ornately carved or gilded wooden frames. Many dark colored statues and other eclectic antiques were scattered around the room. Large worn oak shelves, lined with rows of dusty old books covered one wall of the bedroom and gaudy antique lamps stood on paint chipped nightstands on both sides of the bed.

  Despite the lawyer's explanation, Stephanie could not comprehend how or why someone would choose to sleep in the same room with such musty-smelling furnishings. She was not a lover of antiques and found the ancient, nauseating smells of the room almost overpowering. She suspected it would take a great deal of work to insure the foul scent was removed from the room forever. She imagined opening all of the windows to let in the fresh spring air, tearing off all of the wallpaper and ripping up the carpeting. She then would have to scrub the walls and floors with cleanser, but she was determined to make this room as different from how it now appeared as possible.

  In the far corner off the room, she noticed a large full-length mirror, which was held in place inside of a heavy wooden frame. Stephanie saw the mirror and for some reason she could not explain, was drawn to it as if it was something she had seen before, although she could not recall where that might have been. "That mirror...looks very old." She said, "Is that one of the original pieces from the house as well?"

  "Oh yes," Armstrong replied. "That mirror as well as all of the other pieces you will find in this room is original to the home. Your great-grandparents purchased that glass when they built the farmhouse. It was hand-made by a local craftsman at that time. That makes it over one hundred years old. Although I'm not a collector of antiques and personally have very little appreciation for most of the furniture in this room, I do have a certain fondness for that mirror. I think there's something very special about knowing when you look into it and see your own reflection, you are looking into the very same glass your ancestors looked into so many years ago. That just seems so very amazing to me."

  Stephanie too found herself awestruck. Such an idea had never occurred to her before. This mirror was a part of history, and not just history but her family's history. Her great-grandmother and great-grandfather; the two people from the portrait in the living room had actually stood in front of that same mirror over a hundred years ago and looked into it just as she was now doing. Once again, she felt a slight pang of recognition as if she might have actually looked into this very same glass sometime before. She knew the feeling was unfounded, as she had never previously encountered the piece. However, had she been able to recall her horrible dreams
of the previous night she would have known exactly why the mirror was so familiar and instead of feeling so good about it, she would have been overcome with terror.

  Just then, Stephanie heard a high-pitched keening sound coming from behind her; a sound she immediately recognized as coming from little Sammy. He always made that particular sound when he was about to cry. But this time the noise was much stranger in tone than she had ever heard him utter before. She turned and saw Jason holding Sammy looking at the boy, confused and uncertain what might be wrong with him. The child was staring intently at the mirror with his mouth agape, his eyes rimmed with tears and a look of utter horror on his tiny face. Reacting quickly, Stephanie hurried to Jason, grabbed the boy from his perplexed father and held him tightly against her chest as she carried him from the room.

  Jason followed quickly as did the other children and the lawyer. "Is the boy alright?" Armstrong asked.

  "Yes... I'm sure he's ok...at least I think so," Jason said, a bit overwhelmed by the incident. "I think he might have been weirded out by the room...by the dark colors...and by the funky smells... He's a very perceptive little boy. He always seems to notice things that older kids or adults seem to pay little attention to."

  Armstrong suddenly realized he might have a problem with the little boy. He pretended to be unfazed by the child's outburst however, and said with a tone of understanding, "Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I have several grandchildren and a few of them have quite vivid imaginations and tend to interpret things somewhat differently than we adults do. Things we tend to ignore or take for granted can suddenly appear quite frightening to a young sensitive mind."

  Sammy buried his head in his mother's shoulder whimpering and stayed in that position until he heard the door to the bedroom close behind them. Then he slowly began to look about the brightly lit hallway, as the terror began to visibly fade from his innocent young face.

  Although the child was too young to comprehend exactly what he had seen in the mirror Sammy knew it was not a good thing or a happy thing. He was simply too young to understand what he saw in the big shiny glass. He thought at first he had seen his mommy looking out at him. Then he knew the lady in the glass was not his mommy but a lady who looked like his mommy. That is, at first she looked like his mommy. But then she only looked a little bit like his mommy. She was wearing an old lady dress like he saw once on TV and in the big picture downstairs. But the lady was not an old lady; she was a young lady like his mommy and she was very pretty like his mommy.

  But then she stopped being pretty. The lady's eyes got big and scary like she was mad at Sammy. Sammy didn't know why she was so mad at him. He wasn't being a bad boy. He was being a good boy. The big scary eyes looked right at Sammy. It made Sammy think the lady could see him; like she wanted him to know she could see him. Then she started to get all yucky and her skin changed to a bad color and her face got really skinny. Sammy thought of the bony faces he sometimes saw on kid's t-shirts. Sammy knew his brother, Germie, had a shirt with a bony face on it. He called it a skulk or something that sounded like that.

  The lady's face had changed to a bony skulk face, and her teeth got black and some of them even fell out. At first, it didn't scare Sammy too much, but then her big eyes got bigger and blew up like balloon. Sammy liked balloons, but he didn't like the mirror lady's balloon eyes. He started to feel like crying when they got big because he knew what happened when balloons got too big. Balloons that got too big popped. When balloons popped, they scared him. He didn't want to see the balloon eyes get too big and pop.

  Then he started to think about something else. He thought of what bad things might come out if the ugly balloon eyes popped. He thought for some reason maybe yucky bugs might live in those ugly balloon eyes. Sammy thought he could see all kinds of yucky wormy bugs moving inside of the big balloon eyes. He didn't want to see any yucky bugs or maybe even wormies come out of the scary balloon eyes. So he started to cry so Mommy would take him away from the stinky room and the big glass and the bad lady with the bony skulk face and balloon popping buggy eyes.

  When Sammy heard the door close, he looked around and saw he was back in the nice hall, and there was no more scary glass or a bony skulk-face lady with buggy balloon eyes. He saw his daddy and brother and sister and that fat man they called Armsong. The bad things were gone, and he started feeling much better right away.

  "Are you alright now, baby?" Stephanie asked Sammy. "All that bad stuff is gone now. Don't worry honey; Mommy won't let anything happen to you."

  Sammy loved his mommy and loved her soft voice. He knew he was always ok when Mommy hugged him. Suddenly he seemed to lose all of his sad and scary feelings and smiled saying, "I ok Mommy." But he still held more tightly than normal to his mother's neck as she moved aside to let the fat man, Armsong pass. Sammy didn't like the fat man. He didn't know why, but the fat man made him not feel so good in his tummy.

  "Well then," the lawyer suggested, "Now that we appear to be all back to normal, let’s go downstairs and look at the rest of the house."

  Chapter 12

  The remainder of the tour of the farmhouse was, for the most part, uneventful, although the couple did find themselves giving another furtive glance at the strange painting of Stephanie’s two great-grandparents as they passed by the formal living room. And each time they looked at the portrait, those strange eyes seemed to already be following their every move.

  Even though they had not discussed it, both Stephanie and Jason had already made up their minds the spooky painting would quickly find its way along with the mirror, which had frightened Sammy so badly, up into the attic where they would remain covered with tarps in storage until the couple could determine what best to do with them. They also assumed when they remodeled the master bedroom, most of the ugly old furnishings would either wind up in the trash, sold to an antique dealer or given away to charity. Although Washburn's will had specified the house or land could not be sold, Stephanie figured she would be able to get rid of those furnishings she did not want. She supposed she should clarify that particular idea with the lawyer but decided a little bit of ignorance in this case would be to her benefit.

  Stephanie knew exactly which painting she would use to replace that horrible portrait in the living room. Shortly after she and Jason were married, they had attended a charity art auction and had purchased an original oil painting by a world-renowned Italian artist named Guido Borelli. It was a bit of an extravagance for them, as they really didn't have the spare cash for such a purchase. But Stephanie had fallen in love with the work and the proceeds from the sale went to help the charity as well.

  Although not really an art enthusiast, Jason agreed with the purchase not only because he was impressed with the painting, but also because he wanted to make Stephanie happy. He was quite fascinated with the various Italian scenes Borelli rendered in his paintings. Since that time, the couple had become great fans of the artist's work and had acquired several of Borelli's signed prints. They had also gotten to know him personally through email correspondence. They had attended several of his art shows and met with him whenever possible when he toured the United States.

  Stephanie had never felt there had been an appropriate location for her favorite Borelli piece in their small townhouse. The painting was actually the only original work of art she had ever owned, and now she believed she could proudly display it properly in a place of honor, which she knew the painting deserved. It would hang prominently above the mantle of the fireplace in their new home. Satisfied with her decision, she followed the group as they progressed through the rest of the house.

  They were all once again pleasantly surprised by both the size, and modern design of the eat-in kitchen, not to mention that of the adjacent formal dining room. In the kitchen, every appliance was state-of-the-art and although the space was quite large it was designed with functionality and efficiency in mind. The dining room was likewise large and would more than accommodate their needs with its tasteful deco
r and high-end, perhaps extravagant dining room furniture. There was a large opening between the dining room and the kitchen with a countertop for making it easy to pass various courses from one room to the other.

  Stephanie was happy when Armstrong mentioned the door next to the hall entrance of the kitchen, which he said led to a first floor laundry. In her present townhouse she had a first floor laundry and was afraid, the laundry for this home might be down in the basement as was often the case with older homes. When she opened the door and saw the size of the area, she was even more pleasantly surprised. In addition to having a large capacity washer and dryer, it had an ironing board and utility table. It also had plenty of cabinet space and shelves as well as a countertop and double-bowl utility sink. On the left side of the room near the ceiling, she also noticed a laundry chute which would permit her kids to drop down their clothing, saving her the trouble of having to carry everything in baskets down the stairs. Unfortunately, she assumed she would still have to haul the finished clothing back up.

  "The laundry chute is located in the hall just outside the master bedroom." The lawyer said, "I'm sorry. I forgot to point that out when we were upstairs. You may have already noticed it. And directly inside the master bedroom, off to the left is a small powered dumbwaiter in a closet; you know, a small elevator of sorts. This will come in handy so you don't have to carry all the clean laundry up the stairs when it is finished. Also, if anyone is ever feeling under the weather it can be used to send food and medicines upstairs to them as well. It can be used for pretty much anything you can think of. However, it does have something of a weight limit, and is not safe for human transportation, so I would not recommend letting the children ride in it. That might be very dangerous. It is equipped with an electronic safety locking device and a code which you can give only to whomever you choose."