I would kill him. My stupid little brother thought it was hilarious, swallowing the key to attic, locking me inside. Of course my parents had to buy the only truly haunted house in the world, the kind that needed a freaking skeleton key.
Now I had wait for my parents to get home to unhinge the door, or wait for my brother's next bowel movement. Gross.
Suddenly, the power went out, immersing me in a dusty room of darkness.
"Blake?" I called, through the door.
"Wasn't me," he answered, sounding scared. Good.
"What happened?" I asked, feeling my way to the wooden door and sliding down to rest against it.
"Power surge?" There was a shuffle on the other side of the door and my brother screamed out.
My heart sped up. "Blake?"
Nothing.
"Blake?" I called loudly, wishing my eyes would hurry up and adjust already.
Just then there was a long, slow scraping on the other side of the door. My eyes widened.
"Hello?" I whispered.
"Hi, Melissa," an unfamiliar voice murmured.
I scrambled away from the door, whipping my head around, looking for something, anything to defend myself.
The voice laughed. "Don't worry. I always keep a spare key."
Just outback of my grandma’s house is this big patch of woods, you see. I have been in and out of those woods so many a times that I know them better than an Indian knows his tomahawk. My grandma always warns me to be careful on account of that there are snakes out there. I tell her “I know grandma.” And I pull on my big black rubber boots.
At the beginning of those woods its think and blackberry bushes are everywhere. I can’t count the times I stopped to pick a few for a snack while trucken through those woods. Once you got past the think part it was a nice walk, especially in the spring time. Never the summer time, summer in Texas is so hot it slaps you in the face.
After about half a mile of walkin you end up in a cow pastor. That is full of longhorn cattle. They won’t hurt ya though as long as you don’t rush um. First time I made it to that clearing and saw one of those bulls starring at me I almost had a heart attack but he didn’t do nothin. He put his head down and kept right on eaten.
In the middle of the pastor is somethin amazing. An old abandoned community from like the 1800’s. There are houses everywhere and a dirt road that leads right through the middle. Off to the side there is this little house that has shelves all throughout it and some really old colored bottles. I think it used to be the town store.
I have explored all these houses. I found old pictures of families and old furniture. I just love old stuff; it reminds me of my grandma.
Now, there is a mystery to this town. Way off in the back of this town is a building made of stone. There are no windows and only one way in and one way out, through a big stone door. That door has a skeleton key lock on it and I have tried and tried to find the key to that door. But I never did.
Sometimes at night I fall asleep thinking about that door. What’s in that dark stone room? What was it used for?
My friend Angela jokes with me and says it’s where they took criminals to let them die. She says the woods are haunted and that if I ever find that key they will come after me. I told her she was full of it that why her eyes are brown.
It doesn't happen often in life that the day to day ordinary suddenly transforms into something extraordinary. But thanks to the discovery of an odd brass key, that is exactly what happened during the slow, sweltering days of August in Hayesville, North Carolina.
Before you dismiss my story as a happily-ever-after I must remind you--extraordinary does not necessarily lean toward the positive.
Mom and dad had finally called it quits. I was actually relieved. They just weren't happy with each other. It was better this way.
So mom and I packed the car as full as we dared with our most precious belongings. We didn't speak much as we jammed things into every nook and cranny of the Jeep.
Mom's smile never quite reached her eyes during the two day drive to Gran's either. That was okay. It was my turn to be strong for her. She would come around soon enough. Life with my grandmother was, well, different.
Gran, or Dee as she preferred, was an artist; quilter to be exact. She also owned the Liberte,Egalite,Fraternite Bookstore housed in a ramshackle building in the center of town.
I'd spent my summers there with its creaky wooden floors shined to a high gloss, cozy window seats and tight corners where you could hide with a good book.
As a matter of fact, Gran's house was quite similar to the bookstore. She lived just at the edge of that artist community in a hobbit-like dwelling, surrounded by pine trees and a massive garden full of pungent herbs, roses and lavender.
Gran was out front when we rolled up. The tie-dyed dress and purple Crocs made me cringe but my heart filled my chest when I saw her.
"Gran!" I shouted as I grabbed her tight.
"Janie bug!" she held on and we danced in a circle. That is until I was tackled from behind.
"Sammy!" Gran's yellow lab was on a mission to cover me head to toe with slobber.
Sammy and I had been best buds since he was a pup. Eight years now.
"Janie, hop to it." Gran clapped her hands. "I need your help at the bookstore. I'm hosting a reading tonight and we need to set up." she gushed.
Gran always gushed. She just loved life.
"Who is it? Anyone I know?" I managed to croak out as I wrestled with Sammy.
"Not sure," she said, juggling an armload of white roses. "You ever read any of Joshua Landers' work on Native American mythology?"
"Nope, but it sounds interesting." I said as I head-locked Sammy.
"Oh, it's more than that." Gran wriggled her eyebrows. "Joshua has the most electrifying energy. He's positively hypnotic! AND, he's spending the summer here writing his next book."
I giggled at her while mom did her usual eye roll at Gran's enthusiasm.
Twenty minutes later we were setting up chairs and arranging flowers. The warm, heady scent of the roses was making me sleepy. It had been a long couple of days and I was about to crash.
That is until a tall, lanky twenty-something guy strolled in. There was no mistaking that these faded 501's, tight white t-shirt and brown cowboy boots (yes, cowboy boots...I know!)belonged to Joshua Landers.
Gran wasn't kidding about the energy emanating from the guy. The tiny room closed in on me and started to vibrate.
"Janie," Gran's green eyes sparkled. " I want you to meet Joshua Landers."
He was suddenly inches from my face, gazing into my eyes. Gran was right. He was hypnotic.
He took my hand in both of his and it was as if I melted right into his soul.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Landers," I stammered.
"Please Janie, it's Joshua," his voice was like warm honey.
He turned and motioned for someone to come forward.
"This is Jared, my brother," he smiled. "He's helping me out with my book this summer."
A younger version of Joshua Logan. Oh my.
It was suddenly time for the reading. I hoped we weren't going to be quizzed because I didn't actually hear much. I was too busy taking in every detail of the beautiful Joshua.
I would have to remember to ask him about that strange brass key he had hanging from a thin red cord around his neck. All in good time.
I would kill him. My stupid little brother thought it was hilarious, swallowing the key to attic, locking me inside. Of course my parents had to buy the only truly haunted house in the world, the kind that needed a freaking skeleton key.
ReplyDeleteNow I had wait for my parents to get home to unhinge the door, or wait for my brother's next bowel movement. Gross.
Suddenly, the power went out, immersing me in a dusty room of darkness.
"Blake?" I called, through the door.
"Wasn't me," he answered, sounding scared. Good.
"What happened?" I asked, feeling my way to the wooden door and sliding down to rest against it.
"Power surge?" There was a shuffle on the other side of the door and my brother screamed out.
My heart sped up. "Blake?"
Nothing.
"Blake?" I called loudly, wishing my eyes would hurry up and adjust already.
Just then there was a long, slow scraping on the other side of the door. My eyes widened.
"Hello?" I whispered.
"Hi, Melissa," an unfamiliar voice murmured.
I scrambled away from the door, whipping my head around, looking for something, anything to defend myself.
The voice laughed. "Don't worry. I always keep a spare key."
I fainted.
Suzanne, you never cease to amaze me! Love,love,love it!!
ReplyDeleteSuz, that is FANTASTIC! :)
ReplyDeleteJust outback of my grandma’s house is this big patch of woods, you see. I have been in and out of those woods so many a times that I know them better than an Indian knows his tomahawk. My grandma always warns me to be careful on account of that there are snakes out there. I tell her “I know grandma.” And I pull on my big black rubber boots.
ReplyDeleteAt the beginning of those woods its think and blackberry bushes are everywhere. I can’t count the times I stopped to pick a few for a snack while trucken through those woods. Once you got past the think part it was a nice walk, especially in the spring time. Never the summer time, summer in Texas is so hot it slaps you in the face.
After about half a mile of walkin you end up in a cow pastor. That is full of longhorn cattle. They won’t hurt ya though as long as you don’t rush um. First time I made it to that clearing and saw one of those bulls starring at me I almost had a heart attack but he didn’t do nothin. He put his head down and kept right on eaten.
In the middle of the pastor is somethin amazing. An old abandoned community from like the 1800’s. There are houses everywhere and a dirt road that leads right through the middle. Off to the side there is this little house that has shelves all throughout it and some really old colored bottles. I think it used to be the town store.
I have explored all these houses. I found old pictures of families and old furniture. I just love old stuff; it reminds me of my grandma.
Now, there is a mystery to this town. Way off in the back of this town is a building made of stone. There are no windows and only one way in and one way out, through a big stone door. That door has a skeleton key lock on it and I have tried and tried to find the key to that door. But I never did.
Sometimes at night I fall asleep thinking about that door. What’s in that dark stone room? What was it used for?
My friend Angela jokes with me and says it’s where they took criminals to let them die. She says the woods are haunted and that if I ever find that key they will come after me. I told her she was full of it that why her eyes are brown.
I still haven’t found that key.
True Story from personal experience.
Wow Suzzane, that sounds like the making of a great movie.
ReplyDeleteThanks, ladies. And Dale, haha. Never hear the "why her eyes are brown" before. haha. Funny!
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't happen often in life that the day to day ordinary suddenly transforms into something extraordinary. But thanks to the discovery of an odd brass key, that is exactly what happened during the slow, sweltering days of August in Hayesville, North Carolina.
ReplyDeleteBefore you dismiss my story as a happily-ever-after I must remind you--extraordinary does not necessarily lean toward the positive.
Mom and dad had finally called it quits. I was actually relieved. They just weren't happy with each other. It was better this way.
So mom and I packed the car as full as we dared with our most precious belongings. We didn't speak much as we jammed things into every nook and cranny of the Jeep.
Mom's smile never quite reached her eyes during the two day drive to Gran's either. That was okay. It was my turn to be strong for her. She would come around soon enough. Life with my grandmother was, well, different.
Gran, or Dee as she preferred, was an artist; quilter to be exact. She also owned the Liberte,Egalite,Fraternite Bookstore housed in a ramshackle building in the center of town.
I'd spent my summers there with its creaky wooden floors shined to a high gloss, cozy window seats and tight corners where you could hide with a good book.
As a matter of fact, Gran's house was quite similar to the bookstore. She lived just at the edge of that artist community in a hobbit-like dwelling, surrounded by pine trees and a massive garden full of pungent herbs, roses and lavender.
Gran was out front when we rolled up. The tie-dyed dress and purple Crocs made me cringe but my heart filled my chest when I saw her.
"Gran!" I shouted as I grabbed her tight.
"Janie bug!" she held on and we danced in a circle. That is until I was tackled from behind.
"Sammy!" Gran's yellow lab was on a mission to cover me head to toe with slobber.
Sammy and I had been best buds since he was a pup. Eight years now.
"Janie, hop to it." Gran clapped her hands. "I need your help at the bookstore. I'm hosting a reading tonight and we need to set up." she gushed.
Gran always gushed. She just loved life.
"Who is it? Anyone I know?" I managed to croak out as I wrestled with Sammy.
"Not sure," she said, juggling an armload of white roses. "You ever read any of Joshua Landers' work on Native American mythology?"
"Nope, but it sounds interesting." I said as I head-locked Sammy.
"Oh, it's more than that." Gran wriggled her eyebrows. "Joshua has the most electrifying energy. He's positively hypnotic! AND, he's spending the summer here writing his next book."
I giggled at her while mom did her usual eye roll at Gran's enthusiasm.
Twenty minutes later we were setting up chairs and arranging flowers. The warm, heady scent of the roses was making me sleepy. It had been a long couple of days and I was about to crash.
That is until a tall, lanky twenty-something guy strolled in. There was no mistaking that these faded 501's, tight white t-shirt and brown cowboy boots (yes, cowboy boots...I know!)belonged to Joshua Landers.
Gran wasn't kidding about the energy emanating from the guy. The tiny room closed in on me and started to vibrate.
"Janie," Gran's green eyes sparkled. " I want you to meet Joshua Landers."
He was suddenly inches from my face, gazing into my eyes. Gran was right. He was hypnotic.
He took my hand in both of his and it was as if I melted right into his soul.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Landers," I stammered.
"Please Janie, it's Joshua," his voice was like warm honey.
He turned and motioned for someone to come forward.
"This is Jared, my brother," he smiled. "He's helping me out with my book this summer."
A younger version of Joshua Logan. Oh my.
It was suddenly time for the reading. I hoped we weren't going to be quizzed because I didn't actually hear much. I was too busy taking in every detail of the beautiful Joshua.
I would have to remember to ask him about that strange brass key he had hanging from a thin red cord around his neck. All in good time.