by Marja McGraw
This time Bubba stayed with me. He sneezed as I continued to clean and dust. When I considered there was at least a hundred years of dirt in the house, I knew it would take a lot more than just mere dusting. For a split second, I felt like a pioneer. I had no cleaners of any kind other than dish and bath soap, no conveniences like a vacuum cleaner, and there wasn’t even a broom.
I heard a noise at the rear of the house and stiffened. Glancing at Bubba, I saw he’d heard it, too. He ran out the front door and around the building. I heard his baritone woof one time, and then nothing. Looking around, I picked up the old desk chair and it fell apart. I picked up one of its legs and moved over to the front door. It was the only thing I could think of to use as a weapon.
“Sandi,” Pete yelled. “Come on out here. I’m in the back.”
Sighing, I leaned the chair leg against the wall. Even though it was Pete, I felt like it had been a close call. At least that explained why Bubba hadn’t kept up his barking.
I no longer had to sidle along the edge of the house. I could just plain walk, which I did, until I reached the side of the house. For some reason there was no overgrowth there, so I walked back to the rear, where I’d seen the little room that resembled a shed.
“Sandi,” he called, again.
“I’m coming. Hold your horses.”
Bubba came around and greeted me, bouncing from foot to foot. He was excited.
I found the open door to the shed, and Pete was inside rummaging through piles of junk.
“Have you found something?” I asked.
He held up a wooden bucket. “No holes. Can you believe it? There were things piled on top of it, protecting it. There are more things, too.” He reminded me of a little kid who’d just found a prize in his cereal.
“It’s just like this place has been waiting for us to come along and use what’s here.” I’d heard of houses welcoming people, but this old place surprised me.
“Let’s go fetch some more water and I’ll help you clean,” he suggested.
“Fetch? You’re really getting into this Old West thing.”
Ignoring me, he handed me the bucket and picked up another metal pan. “I set the other one down behind the house. I’ll bring it in when we get back.”
“I forgot. We have lots of bottled water in the Jeep. We can use some of that.”
“I thought about that, but we don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck here.” Pete had an odd look on his face, and I understood that. We didn’t know what was going on. “In fact, I’d better bring it all down here. Whoever took the GPS could come back and take the water. Since your suitcase was lying on the ground, I’m thinking that maybe Bubba and I scared whoever was there away before they could take more of our things.”
“You might be right. I’ll come with you and help carry it back.”
“I think the creek water is okay for drinking, but I wouldn’t want to find out it isn’t the hard way.” He patted his stomach and I understood what he meant.
We trooped down to the creek, a longer walk than it looked like, and carried the water back. It was heavy and I had to stop a few times because my arms were becoming sore. Pete suggested I set it down and said he’d come back for it, but I felt like I had to do my part. I turned down his offer.
After returning to the house, we rested for a few minutes before heading back to the car and the bottled water. Pete carried a case of water and I hauled as many bottles as I could. Again, the weight was a problem. Bubba carried one bottle in his mouth, looking as though he was quite proud of himself. He was doing his part. He tried to grin at me once but dropped the bottle. Picking it up, he ran ahead of us, heading straight for the house. He seemed to kind of like the adventure of a new (and very dirty) home.
We set the water on the floor in the kitchen portion of the house. “Did you remember the screwdriver?” I asked.
He patted his hip pocket and headed for the bedroom to pry up the bottom of the wardrobe.
“You’ve been a good sport, Sandi. You deserve to see if there’s anything in the bottom of that cabinet. I hope there is, for your sake.”
I smiled to myself as I began washing things down. I knew that water with no soap wouldn’t do a lot of good, but it was better than nothing. And we’d brought the antibacterial hand cleaner back with us. I figured I could use a little on the most important things we might use. Fortunately, we’d brought paper plates and cups with us, along with some plastic knives, forks and spoons. After all, we’d planned on camping out, just not in a vintage house in a ghost town.
I contemplated exploring the other buildings of the town and that kept my mind occupied while I cleaned. It was exciting to think we might be the first people to see the town since everyone left. That led me to wondering why the people had left. Obviously, at least the occupants of this house had left in a hurry, not taking their things with them. I was picking up the scent of mysteries all over the place.
“Sandi,” Pete called. “You’ll want to come see what was in the bottom of this piece of furniture.”
“I’m coming.” My heart skipped a beat at the thought that he’d actually found something. I figured it would be empty, or maybe the floor of the wardrobe wasn’t really supposed to come up. His tone made me feel he wasn’t teasing, that he’d actually found something.
Bubba heard him, too, and he lumbered right in front of me, cutting off my path to the bedroom. Unfortunately, I was hurrying. Trying not to trip over him, I fell back on my behind.
“Are you okay?” Pete asked. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom.
“I’ve been better. I think I got a splinter in my – ”
Bubba stopped to see why I was on the floor and started licking my nose. “Will you quit it, you dumb dog?”
Pete laughed as he walked over and helped me up. “Come on. You’re going to be excited when you see what I found. This is something that’s right up your alley.”
“What is it?”
“Come see for yourself.”
What an exasperating man he could be sometimes. Couldn’t he just tell me? He seemed to be excited though, at least a little, so I played his game and didn’t ask any more questions.
Before he showed me the treasure, he walked over to the bed frame. “If this thing holds together, I think we can put the inflatable mattress on it. I keep a small toolbox in the car, so maybe I can add a few nails to make it sturdier. When I bring back the mattress, I’ll bring the toolbox, too.”
“You’re such a handy guy to have around. Now show me what you found before I make you sleep on that old couch.”
“That old couch is nothing but a frame.”
“I know.”
Even though things weren’t going according to plan, Pete’s mood seemed to have improved. Maybe it was a great adventure to him, too. As long as he didn’t think about whoever had been in the Jeep.
He took hold of my hand and led me to the wardrobe. “Check it out.” He pointed to the floor of the piece.
Sitting in the hidey hole were books, or what looked like ledgers.
“What are they?” I asked. “Journals or something?”
“Or something. These are logs written by the town sheriff. I just glanced at the one on top, but it appears he kept records of everything that happened in this town. Apparently we’re trespassing in the house of the old lawman. If you’ll go find a place to sit in the other room, I’ll bring them out to you.”
I smiled at him and left the room. Bubba wandered over to the chest of drawers and sniffed. I wondered if we might find more treasures in the drawers.
Hearing a horse whinny, I ran to the front door, but I couldn’t see past the growth in front of the house. The next thing I heard was the sound of horse hooves racing away from the house. I sighed. What was going on? Why did someone want us to stay in this old town? And who would be riding a horse up here in this day and age? You’d think they’d be using an ATV or something. Those all terrain vehicles could go almost anywhere.
A ghost town plus a mystery guy riding a horse. Was there a ghost in this town? Nah, I didn’t believe in them. I’d already debunked the theory that there was a ghost in my old house in Los Angeles.
Ghosts don’t exist.
Chapter Four
Pete carried the books out to the kitchen table and set them down. There were three.
“I just heard a horse racing away from the house,” I told him, none too calmly.
Even though he knew the horse and rider would be long gone, he ran out the front door and around the overgrowth.
“Are you sure that’s what you heard?” he asked, walking back through the front door.
“Positive. You can probably find hoof prints out there.”
I’d righted the two chairs that were on the floor by the table, and after cleaning them off, gently sat to see if they’d hold my weight. Each one did.
“I found tools in shed,” he said. “I’m going to see if I can clear off some of the brush in front of the house. We need to be able to see out of the window openings.” He walked out without waiting for any pearls of wisdom to pass my lips. Yeah, like I had any answers – to anything that was happening.
The books would have to wait. I wanted to see if I could clean up the old stove and find out if it was usable. Looking it over, I saw it was full of dirt, spider webs and dead bugs. I hoped I’d brought enough towels with me to clean it. The scouring pad might help. I sighed, suddenly feeling like this was no vacation. But a girl does what a girl has to do.
First I wiped out every nook and cranny with a dry towel, finding another cast iron pan and two pots inside the oven. Then I got another towel wet and went over the stove again. And again. And again. Both inside and out, including using the scouring pad. I couldn’t believe how dirty it was, and had to remind myself how long it had been since anyone had cleaned it – over a hundred years. There was a nest of some kind under one of the lids, or burners, but even that appeared to have been abandoned for a long time. I lifted it out with a paper towel wrapped around my hand, just in case. Who knew what might be lurking in between the twigs? There were a few rusty looking spots on the stove, and I used cooking oil we had with us to wipe them down, repeatedly, and the stove finally looked almost good enough to use, if one were desperate. There were two shelves above the stovetop with a chimney running right up the middle. I wasn’t ready to tackle the chimney yet. That sounded like a Pete job to me.
I heard noises in front of the house and found him outside swinging a scythe back and forth like a golf club, cutting down tall weeds and the top of brush. The scythe couldn’t be too sharp after all these years, but it was still doing the job. I was already beginning to see more. The sheriff’s house had looked out over the town.
Bubba seemed to be a cheerleading squad of one. His tail was flying back and forth, almost in sync with the blade. Every so often he’d bark his encouragement.
Walking back to the table, I stared at the books. I was dying to delve into them, but I had other things to take care of first. I began trying to clean the wooden floor with a wet towel. I soon realized I wouldn’t have made a hardy pioneer. I was exhausted, and I hadn’t really made much of a dent in the dirt yet. I went over every spot several times.
Pete and Bubba came inside after a couple of hours had gone by. “I’m going up to the Jeep to get the inflatable mattress,” Pete said. “I can plug the portable air compressor into the car and blow it up. I’ll finish cutting down the overgrowth tomorrow morning. At least we can see out the windows now.”
“Shouldn’t you take care of the mattress here so you don’t have to carry it back while it’s inflated?”
“Not unless you want to spend the evening blowing it up like a balloon.”
“Oh. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, you just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re actually making some progress. Good job.”
“Thanks.” I wiped my sweating brow for effect, probably smearing dirt on my face, but he’d already turned away. “It’s hard work,” I said to his back, just before I sighed – loudly.
“I’ll be back.” He left, telling Bubba to stay with me and guard me. The gun was in his waistband again.
I decided to tackle the bedroom for a change of pace. Besides, I wanted to snoop through the dresser drawers. It was a very plain chest and I didn’t expect to find anything valuable, but maybe something interesting would turn up.
Although the roof was relatively intact, I knew that rain or melting snow had seeped into the house during the winter months. I’d seen some water stains on the walls and floor near the window openings and other places on the floor, and it seemed like every door and drawer was swollen shut. I pulled on the top drawer of the dresser with all of my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried twisting and pulling, but that didn’t work either. Then I saw Pete’s screwdriver sitting next to the wardrobe. Retrieving it, I began to pry the drawer open. I must have loosened it, because it didn’t take as much effort as I thought it would.
To my delight, there were things in the drawer. Instead of immediately going through them, I got the rest of the drawers open. All but one of them had at least a few things in them. One had a lady’s undergarments in it. I pulled out some old cotton undergarments and put them back without examining them. Too personal. I closed that drawer after looking underneath the clothing. Another drawer held some knick knacks, someone’s treasures, neatly wrapped in cloth. There weren’t many, but what was there had obviously been precious to someone. I lined them up on the dresser, finding two small figurines and a mustache cup containing the handle of an old brush, minus the bristles. There was also a little cup-shaped thing, but it had no handle. I assumed it was just decorative.
The top drawer held a woman’s handkerchiefs and two pairs of gloves. One pair was certainly for work, and the other set was more likely for church. I noticed a hankie set back toward the rear of the drawer. It had been folded several times. Pulling it out, I heard something make a soft clinking noise on the floor. Dropping the hankie on top of the dresser, I squatted down to see what the cloth had been holding.
“Oh,” I said softly, picking up a very small woman’s wedding band. It was so tiny that I almost missed it. It was plain, with no markings on it, but the size entranced me. This had to belong to the same woman who had worn the small dresses we’d found in the wardrobe. For some reason, finding the ring made me feel like I was trespassing. I placed it on top of the hankie I’d dropped on the dresser and returned to the other part of the house. Why had that ring made me feel like an interloper? Whoever lived here had been gone for many years, and if she’d left the ring, it must not have been that important to her. Unless… Maybe she’d died in childbirth or something. Maybe the husband, the sheriff, had held onto it for sentimental reasons. But why hadn’t he taken it with him when he left?
I had lots of questions and probably no way to find answers. In fact, we might find a whole town full of questions with no answers. My mystery had suddenly turned into something disturbing. Picking up one of my towels, I wiped off the rocking chair and sat. I was pleased to find it was relatively comfortable and still capable of rocking.
Turning toward the window, I saw the sun had begun its downward descent. It had been a long day, and it was close to an end. Knowing there wouldn’t be much light after dusk, I began cleaning again. We needed a place to sit and eat, and cook. Well, I knew Pete had his portable cook stove, so cooking wouldn’t be an issue. I glanced at the cook stove, hoping I could clean it well enough to use. Who knew how long we’d be stuck in this place?
That made me think about the town. I wondered what it had been called a hundred-plus years ago. I glanced at the books, hoping they held some information and clues, but they’d have to wait.
Returning to my housework, I took another stab at cleaning the stove. The soot just kept coming off and I wondered if it would ever be usable. Pete had put the metal tub of water in its rightful place, so I decided to w
ork on the cast iron frying pans, the Dutch oven and the pots. He wasn’t aware of exactly what cleaning products I’d brought with us. He’d just seen a box with towels, paper towels and the scouring pads. Underneath the towels, had he looked, he would have found dish soap. I knew we’d be using paper plates and plastic silverware, but I also knew we’d need to use pots and pans to prepare our meals. They’d require dish soap.
I mentally patted myself on the back for thinking of these things as I poured soap into the frying pan and picked up one of the scouring pads. After I cleaned them, I’d have to dry them over heat or they’d rust. Since I didn’t have a working stove yet, I’d try hand-drying them and wiping them down with cooking oil.
Glancing around, I saw Bubba had decided to take a nap in front of the fireplace. I’d have to remember to ask Pete about cleaning the two chimneys. It could get cold at night, even if it was the middle of June.
By the time he came back with the inflatable mattress, I’d had pretty good luck cleaning out one of the frying pans and the Dutch oven. They’d apparently been cleaned before the house had been abandoned, or they would have been a lot worse. Both of the pots were lost causes, and there was nothing I could do about them. We’d brought pots with us, though, so it wasn’t an issue.
“One more trip and I think we can stop for now,” he said. “I still need to bring back the sleeping bags.” He looked as tired as I felt.
“It’s been a long day and we still need to eat. When you come back, we’ll see about some food. Maybe for tonight we can just finish off the sandwiches my mother sent with us.”
“Works for me. This time it’ll be a quick trip.” He gave me a kiss and headed back to the car.
While he was gone, I started sorting through what we’d brought back with us. I set the food on top of the cabinet we’d found, leaving the cold items in the cooler. I wondered how long our ice would hold out, and realizing how thirsty I was, pulled out a bottle of water and opened it. Water had never tasted so good to me before. I needed the hydration.
