Table of Contents
Dedications
Preface
Prelude: Painting on a Bottle of Wine
Part One: The Mausoleum
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Part Two: The Thing in the Crawlspace
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Part Three: Hello?
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Part Four: The Ring
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Author Biography
The Tree Goddess
The Mapleview Series – Book 2
Tom Raimbault
Copyright (C) 2011 Tom Raimbault
Layout Copyright (C) 2015 by Creativia
Published 2015 by Creativia
eBook design by Creativia (www.creativia.org)
Cover art by http://www.thecovercollection.com/
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.
Dedications
To Bear (my wife) and my two daughters, Megan and Lauren.
To my Mother and Father.
And to my Grandmother who enjoys my writings. I hope she likes this one, too!
Preface
The light of a candle flickers, bobs and sways throughout the hours in a darkened, old house. Perhaps it sits at a dusty table in an attic or some corner of the basement. At the table, nothing more than a pen scribbles on sheets of paper by a seemingly unguided force.
This is the sight you might expect to see at some haunted house in the darkest hours of night. And this is the time of night when the material was written for this novel. 2:30 in the morning, I would sometimes joke with myself and wonder if I wrote as if something from the coffin, dead. Yes, arising during the witching hour can certainly lead one to feel drained of all life; especially as the day progresses long into the afternoon hours. But those many hours alone in the dark of night had proven to be the most precious moments of creativity.
Looking back at the entire growth of The Tree Goddess, I believe the initial spark that put the story in motion took place while my wife, kids and I were packing up boxes to move into a new residence. At the time, my 9 year old daughter (oldest) was cautioned of a box of fragile centerpieces that I claimed to be expensive antiques. Only being silly with the child, in truth, the items were cheap and could easily be replaced. Challenged by my daughter that the claim was fiction, the stories I made up for each item were enough to draw laughter from the wife and kids.
Writing off and on for a number of years, a website was created to showcase my short stories and unusual essays. Halloween week had always been a special celebration on the site as it featured spooky, Halloween-related material. And in the spring of 2009, the plan was to make Halloween really special with some fantastic, original material. The stories that were centered on the box of fragile items which entertained my wife and kids while moving were planned to be developed into detailed writings. Spending some weeks, 5 short stories were written. Upon their completion, I realized that they were all related. In fact, with only a few alterations, the same characters could have appeared throughout.
But writing a novel is no easy task! The Tree Goddess had been written not once, not twice, but three times! After my second try, it was realized that I needed to further develop the craft of storytelling. Since I had done much technical writing in my job, the first two drafts of the Tree Goddess were nothing more than technical papers with logical presentations that attempted to describe the bizarre and supernatural happenings of Mapleview.
My story book, Freaked out Horror was the training ground where I created a collection of strange and morbid tales and then added a macabre tone, something which I had never done before. It was written after my 2nd attempt of writing the Tree Goddess. Satisfied with what I had written, I was confident that the 3rd attempt of the Tree Goddess would prove successful. Now, in 2010, the novel is complete and ready to be released. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy the completed product.
But there is one thing that I need to call to the reader's attention. Being that there are four disappearances in the fictional town of Mapleview, I found it necessary to divide the book into four parts. It's only right to venture into each character's past and reveal the events which led to another disappearance in Mapleview. As you read part one, the story will unfold with Mary, who purchases the historic Trivelli house from her aunt and has some bizarre experiences. Towards the end of part one, we witness the first disappearance of Mapleview. But then part two will venture 10 years into a new character's past. Towards the end, that character's decade will track back into the running story of the book so that we resume where part one had left off. Had I not partitioned the novel this way, it would have been confusing for the reader. And had I given a proper, sequential three decades of the events in Mapleview, the work would have been extremely boring and lengthy. Presenting it as four parts is best.
Recently, I took a family vacation to the Black Hills of South Dakota. During this trip, I was fascinated with not only the mountainous, western landscapes that were highlighted by pines; but also the history of the area. Towards the end of my stay, I was very, much aware that the Black Hills region was victim to General Custer's invasion and then a gold rush which further contributed to the interesting history of the area. And there were so many antique buildings, mining shacks and caves; each with stories of their own. One could become an expert of local history just by living there.
Returning home to polish my final draft of the Tree Goddess, I soon realized that there are history buffs who know many details of our nation's history. I thought of this while noticing that the story goes into great lengths, describing the setting of the novel along with the region's history. Wolves populate the dense forests, and of course, tribes of Native Americans had populated fictional Mapleview, long before the town was established in 1830.
But it's important to know that Mapleview is fictional! Don't bother trying to solve exactly where in America Mapleview is located. The very fact that Mapleview was founded in 1830 might lead an expert to pinpoint an area in this country that was settled in during that timeframe. And then one might conclude that dense forests shouldn't be located in a particular area, or that wolves are not indigenous to a certain imagin
ed part of the country. Again, Mapleview is fictional; and so are the accounts of its history.
I hope you enjoy this novel. And to all my readers who have read my daily edits all of these years: this book contains the material that was originally supposed to run on Halloween week of 2009.
Tom Raimbault
Frankfort, Illinois
July 16, 2010
Contents [Automatically Generated]
Prelude: Painting on a Bottle of Wine
On a Saturday, mid-October night a beautiful woman accompanied the man she had been falling in love with to his duplex condo in the rural town of Robin Creek. It was about an hour drive from Mapleview.
It was a typical night out, absolutely wonderful as the hours flew by like minutes. Many have experienced the blissful moments of falling in love, when we desire to spend every waking second with that special someone. During this moment, Dana hated the idea of going home for the evening to endure the absence of this wonderful man for the week. He had business matters that needed attention on Sunday, and most likely would not see Dana until Friday. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to go back to his place, let him crack open a bottle of wine and spend some more wonderful time together. It was, after all, what had been suggested.
A peculiar painting, somewhat comical and somewhat grotesque, was displayed on a bottle of red wine. It was one of those inexpensive wines that one might find on sale at a discount store. Perhaps to give it more appeal, the bottle was indicated as special, limited-edition for Halloween. The orange background along with jack-o-lanterns suggested a spooky, autumn theme.
But the subject of the painting was silly! It was nothing more than a half-tree, half-human creature that was recognizably female with firm, shapely thighs; large breasts and woman-like arms.
The bottle sat on a coffee table in a candlelit living room and enjoyed on that Saturday, mid-October night.
“Hey, I actually know the guy who did the painting for this bottle.”
Dana was used to his wild stories, created just to amuse her, and at first assumed this was one of them.
“No seriously! And the artwork is really no laughing matter. The actual story behind the painting was gruesome enough, and because the vineyard wanted to release a limited Halloween edition, they figured it would be the perfect artwork.”
Dana looked at the picture on the bottle and was a bit confused. “I don't get it. When I think of Halloween; I think of ghosts, witches or vampires; not a half woman, half tree thing.” But as the conversation continued, it was pointed out that the vineyard added a couple of jack-o-lanterns on the picture and highlighted the Halloween tone with an orange background. The story behind the painting made it worthy to be Halloween material.
Dana drew closer and took another sip of her wine. “Okay, so what's the story behind the painting?”
“Well, it all started with a mysterious disappearance that took place in the town of Mapleview.”
The very mention of Mapleview perked Dana's interest, “The Mapleview disappearances? I remember those from the news.”
Part One: The Mausoleum
Chapter 1
You pass through them while driving on vacation; the peaceful, historic towns surrounded by miles of forests, lakes, mountains and untouched wilderness. And yet some of them appear to be thriving communities complete with every convenience and luxury one would expect to find in the city or suburbs. Such towns have been known to generate income from a yearly flow of tourists. Or they can be occupied by individuals such as artists, writers or people who travel much in their jobs. This is the sort of town Mapleview is.
Founded in the early 1800s, it offers a place for people to get away from it all and finally live in an area that values peace, quiet and communion with nature. But there's an unknown, dark side to that wonderful town where most people would only dream of living. Some attribute it to a mysterious sentience that blankets the town in a wilderness deep in unknown history. Some explain that the legendary Trivelli house continues to curse the area since the well known tragedy that took place in the 1830s. Other residents adopt a more sensible theory and state that many of the people in that town are simply crazy.
There's a private section of forest near the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve in Mapleview that has been owned by the Trivelli family since 1832. One must travel uphill on a half-block driveway to get to the historical house. The house overlooks the actual lake that is in Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, and has become an icon to residents of Mapleview who gaze up to the old house on the hill. As mentioned before, the house has a terrible legend that really seems to be fed by those who continue to tell the story.
Although the story in this book is focused on the time when Mary owned the Trivelli house, it is probably best to give a very, brief account of the last person's experiences who resided there, just to understand what Mary had walked into.
It was two years before the sale of the legendary, historic house of Mapleview, and two years before the series of mysterious disappearances. Terri was the last tenant of Loraine Trivelli. Loraine inherited the historic house that had been passed down for generations.
Terri drove on a Saturday morning through the heavily forested highways with nothing but miles of wilderness and seclusion to surround her. Finally reaching Mapleview Road, she soon found the oversized, historic house and ascended the half-block driveway where Loraine Trivelli had greeted her.
Loraine was a friendly, older woman; perhaps in her early 60s with an air of grace and of following all things that were proper. She led Terri into the home and provided a tour of the place which most people only dream of.
“It's a house that was built in the 1830s and has been passed down through the generations. As you can see it's fully furnished, many of the pieces antiques. If you decide to stay, I only ask that you make no changes to the decorating and structure as this is a historic landmark to the town of Mapleview.”
It was a beautiful home in a quiet town, and just the place for Terri to rediscover her talent for art. How could she turn down such a place?
“So what brings you to Mapleview, if you don't mind me asking?” Loraine was always curious of her potential tenants.
“I'm an artist, just looking for a quiet place and some inspiration.” Peace and quiet was something that Terri most certainly needed, considering the stress and near nervous breakdown experienced at the company just outside of Chicago that specialized in biomedical manufacturing. The wirey-thin, middle-aged blonde who served as a punching bag to management and the FDA alike could no longer take the damage. Threats of being fired because of production mishaps, and threats of heavy fines from the FDA inspectors were squeezing the very life out of her. There was no reason to stay as she had other talents and plenty of finances saved up. Many people left the company under similar circumstances. It was just Terri's turn.
“Oh, I get plenty of artists and writers who stay here for a year or more so they can complete a work.” It seemed to Loraine that her historic house was the ideal place for people like Terri to live, offering peace and quiet in the communion of nature.
But then Terri hinted towards a question, hoping not to offend Loraine. “It's so nice here and peaceful. I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to leave after a year or so.”
Loraine wasn't going to take Terri's curiosity personal. Although she desired to keep renters for longer periods, the legend and stigmatism of the house eventually pushed tenants away. She was lucky to have a renter like Terri who needed a quiet place to stay. Loraine very calmly speculated, “Oh, I suppose people want to move on. Not much happens here in Mapleview. I'm sure after a couple of years; you might want a new environment for inspiration as well.”
Again, the historic house was beautiful and sat in a quiet town. It was just the place for Terri to rediscover her talent for art. How could she turn down such a place? The rental agreement was filled out that very day.
* * *
Certainly not expecting inspiration to immediately hit her, Te
rri spent some time getting acquainted with the historic house and the small, charming town of Mapleview. As a gentle reminder to creativity's subconscious, Terri did set up her oil canvass in the living room, just in front of the old piano with antique vase seated on top. The vase was certainly in need of fresh flowers, and her oil canvass was in need of inspiration.
The Trivelli house overlooks the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve and backs into a narrow, wooded path that descends to the bottom of the forest. Returning from her first nature hike one morning, Terri took sight of the historic house from a distance and realized that it had been built on throughout the 150 years or more since its original construction. She could see the very center of the building which revealed the possible appearance of the home as it would have looked in the 1830s. That was the moment of initial inspiration. The canvass was brought outside, some distance from the house, and the brush strokes began to take form.
The exclusive colors were blue and light-gray, ignoring the lush greens and browns of the forest world. Terri was unable to create a clear, discernable image of the house and attributed the stymie to the fact that she was painting the building as it looked 150 or more years ago. The end product was eerie, dark-toned and suggested a haunted environment. Maybe the inspiration was a bad idea. Terri decided to bring the painting inside and work on it after dinner that night. But the house, itself, seemed to welcome the painting. It almost complimented Terri and congratulated her on the fine work!
Terri became obsessed with the imagined presence that adored her artwork. It was necessary to personify the presence that was drawn as tall and dark, wearing a suit and seated at the piano bench. Just like the painting of the house, his face was made barely discernable; but there were subtle characteristics of being handsome.
One could almost consider Terri's art as a medium that attempted to understand the paranormal presence in the home. All paintings created after the attempted personification became increasingly horrific; which illustrated various rooms with walls to include bodies trapped behind them, along with ghostly people who pounded to escape.
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