After getting the splinter free, Elizabeth walked the rest of the way up to the front door, her apprehension and fear intensified as she saw the broken wood along the frame, hesitating, wondering if she should just turn back and return with Leo. Her hand shook slightly as she decided against it, needing to face this alone without questions, determined to show she was stronger then she appeared. She didn’t feel it at the moment, but how could she have survived all that she had without a survival instinct? She had just misplaced it for a time, letting the people around her protect and shield her. This was her opportunity to find it once again.
The door easily opened under her hand as a soft breeze flowed out of the house swirling around her. She inhaled in shock at the sight of the tall grandfather clock standing proudly in the entryway; the sight sent her back to her childhood. Its chimes rang in her head as they had when she was a child, left behind by the previous owners to her and her mother. Now it stood silent, its hands still, no longer keeping track of the passing of time.
Elizabeth stepped into the house, faltering as she felt the house enfold her once more into its magical world. Her eyes swept the living room just off the entryway where furniture was left overturned with papers and bottles scattered across the room. Tears pooled in her eyes as she felt her throat catch at the disarray, wondering what she had expected.
A sound just behind her made her jump around, just as the front door slammed on its broken frame. Startled, she stepped back from the door, with her heart in her throat, as her body fell into the grandfather clock, which set off the chimes within, simultaneously sending a small field mouse scurrying across the floor. A screamed filled the house as she jumped onto the landing of the stairs beside the clock, her pulse racing in fear.
Her eyes darted frantically across the floor, looking for the dirty little creature as she crouched on the landing. Then after a few more frantic moments, laughter pooled up in her as she fell back onto the stairs reacting to her fears. Here she was trying to prove she was strong enough to face her past and instead she was crouching in fear of a little field mouse. She shook her head as she turned to move up the stairs.
Elizabeth paused outside the doorway of her childhood bedroom, pleased to see that the upstairs was in less disarray than the downstairs. She leaned against the doorframe, her heart racing as she found the room almost the same, except dust now coated everything, dulling the surfaces.
She walked along the perimeters of the room, her finger trailing along the surface of a dresser, leaving a line of shine, before she finally paused at the vanity along the far wall, the round mirror broken, and a crack running along the middle. With affection, she ran her hand along the cool surface, instinctively, she sat down on the small stool that sat in front of it as a flash of memory caressed her softly. It was as though time had turned back to when she was just a child, wondering who and what she would be someday: A time when her mother was her life and more beautiful than any grand movie star, she remembered applying overly bright red lipstick to her youthful lips as she pushed them out to emphasize them more, thinking she looked beautiful in the bright red.
Now her face was distorted from the crack along the middle, reflecting how she felt, the past a broken puzzle which was falling into place. Her hair was pulled back starkly from her high cheekbones and small nose. Her blue eyes were slightly slanted and exotic, reflecting a pain she was unable to suppress, her lips chapped and cracked from nervously biting and licking them.
Sunlight filtered through the window covered with several years of dirt, shining dully onto the mirror. The light caught the silver of the sunflower charm around her neck , bringing her attention back to it. Elizabeth smiled as she reached up to touch the warm metal remembering when her mother had given the charm to her. She had been playing with her makeup once more, trying to decide between the red or pink lipstick, the pink blush over applied on her cheeks and blue eye shadow heavy and thick on her eyelids. She had thought she looked, grown up and sophisticated, and wishing her mother would let her wear it all of the time, but always, her mother said she was still too young.
Happiness had filled her when her mother had walked in. Standing behind her, brushing her hair back softly as Elizabeth had stared at her mother’s reflection in the round mirror.
An apprehension had come over her, replacing the gladness, as she looked at her mother’s worry lines that marred her forehead, she had seen this look before, it was never good. Besides, it was something her mother had always told her not to do because it would leave wrinkle lines when she was old. So, for her mother to forget the golden rule, it was serious. She had become fearful, afraid her nightmare would start all over again. That Roger had found them.
Not wanting to know, she had then continued to apply the makeup, deciding on the bright red as it was much more sophisticated and glamorous. After she had applied the thick layer on her lips , she had smiled up at her mother asking her what she thought, wondering if she looked beautiful.
Her mother had smiled sadly as she pulled her up against her, saying she did look beautiful while her eyes studied her as though it would be the last time she would see her. Then she knelt in front of her, telling her she had something important to give her, placing a delicate necklace around Elizabeth’s neck. Her long fingers stroked the elegant flower affectionately. Her words had been soft, “A beautiful charm, for my beautiful, sweet, little sunflower.” Her brown eyes full of love as she looked back up into Elizabeth eyes, “You are what keeps me sane.” Her hand gentle as it had come to rest on Elizabeth’s cheek, her thumb rubbing it as tears gathered in her eyes. “I love you beyond reproach. Nothing can change that. You know that, don’t you?” Elizabeth had nodded her head affirmatively, tears gathering, her mother’s mood had scared her. Then her mother had pulled back, her hands had taken, hold of Elizabeth’s shoulders as her fingers dug in painfully, a hardness entering her eyes, her voice stern as she continued, “I want you to promise that you will never lose this necklace. Always wear it close to your heart. Do you understand?”
Elizabeth had then felt the tears break the thin barrier holding them at bay, as she nodded again that she understood, promising, fearful of the harsh look in her mother’s eyes. Her mother’s eyes had then softened as she loosened her grip on Elizabeth, apologizing as she took Elizabeth’s hands in hers, her eyes full of concern as she made Elizabeth look in her eyes, her voice had been serious as she emphasized again for her to keep the necklace close. It was the key to all the secrets they had hidden. Most importantly, it was the key to her very survival.
Elizabeth frowned at the vivid memory; her fingers absently rubbing the sunflower charm as she wondered what her mother had meant.
Frustration consumed her as she walked over to the window; the return of her memory had given her even more unanswered questions. Unable to see clearly through the grime on the window, she reached over with her sleeve to wipe it away, the action only smearing it more. Frustrated, Elizabeth reached down in an attempt to instead open it , the window sealed by moisture and age refused to give, at first. Then just as she was about to give up on her attempt, it finally gave in, a loud groan of protest sliding upwards, haltingly. Elizabeth knelt down to get better leverage on the window as she used the palms of her hands to push the window up a little further, a breeze rushed in, brushing back her hair and cooling her face where sweat had gathered at her hairline from the exertion of opening the window.
She smiled in satisfaction as she leaned forward to look out; a pond in the distance triggered a faint memory struggling to be remembered. Then it came to her, it was the same pond as in her dreams. She watched the breeze skim across the surface creating small waves, which sparkled from the sunlight. She inhaled deeply the smell of lilacs, which was overshadowed by the scent of rotting fish, and seaweed infestation that permeated from the pond beside the weeping willow tree. Elizabeth frowned in confusion at the direction of her thoughts, she had always loved
that pond but now it just reminded her of a rotting water hole, her heart then contracted as it finally came back to her, the reason the pond has been so prominent in her dreams and memories.
She fell away from the window with the memory, her hand reaching back as she hit the floor. Suddenly, the vision came in a flash of violence; she remembered the reason her mind had most likely blinded her for so many years, she now could recall watching from her little cabinet in which she had been hiding: Roger rolling her mother up inside the dining room rug and then wrapping it tightly with rope.
When Roger had carried out the rug over his shoulder, Elizabeth had slid out of her hiding place and ran to her room, the one place she thought she would be safe.
The moon had been full and bright as it shone into her bedroom window lighting the night as though it was dusk.She had felt removed as she had stared out into the night, the scene before her feeling unreal, and fake-she can remember that. Her emotions displaced from what her eyes had shown her.
Roger had lifted that bundle by the ropes, tied around it, only to swing it high into the air. The bundle had landed in the center of the pond; the impact creating ripples which moved out to the shore, lapping it gently.
Elizabeth looked back at the window, her neck hair rose as she had remembered Roger standing in the moonlight afterwards, staring at the spot on the pond, before he finally looked up and towards her. His evil had touched her through the distance, his face hidden in the shadows of the night.
She had run that night, down the stairs and through the moonlit night. The direction had been insignificant, the consequences astronomical.
Chapter 33
Elizabeth rested her head back against the wall in the entryway that led into the dining room. Her eyes watched how the light caught the dust floating in the air, reminding her of her first day in New Orleans. It now seemed like a lifetime ago when she awakened from her old childhood nightmare; not knowing it was only the beginning, thinking of the fragile barrier between past and present. Now she was just a heartbeat away from that last barrier.
She sighed in resignation, as she stood to step into the very room that held so many memories of laugher and horror, her steps hesitant, a chill brushing past her when she finally broke the invisible barrier into the room. The sun shined into the room through the large picture window, highlighting the darkened spot on the floor where the dining room table had been.
Surprised that there wasn’t more evidence of the nightmare that occurred in this room, Elizabeth wondered how someone could stand here and not sense the brutality which had happened.
All the emotions of that night filled her, stealing her breath, drawing her in to the enormity of them, needing to look at, to feel, that which she has had hidden from for so many years, until she found herself squatting over the darkened stain on the hardwood floor; her fingers reaching out to touch it gently, lovingly, her emotions crushing her, as her knees gave way under the weight of them and her body falling forward along the floor where her mother had taken her last breath as her blood ran red, seeping into the floor boards, painting the wood the color of deep cinnamon.
Elizabeth spread her arms wide as she laid facedown onto the floor, the warmth of the hardwood seeping into her, filling her, as the sun bathed her in warmth as though a warm blanket was laid gently on her, comforting her. The sounds of the house settled, soothing as it breathed life back into her, removing the years of questions and insecurities. She turned her head, her eyes drawn toward the hutch wherein she sought refuge so many years ago. The low hutch sat like a monster against the wall which led to the kitchen, its bottom door where she had hidden, broken, hanging on a hinge.
Tears caught in her throat as she felt the loss of her mother again, remembering still, the life in her mother’s eyes fading as they had silently pleaded for her to stay hidden, her last words she was unable to hear. Yet, Elizabeth knew what they were; her lips mouthing ‘my precious sunflower’ just before she died.
Roger had roared in anger as he looked around the room, yelling for Elizabeth to show herself and see what she had done to her mother. Elizabeth now knew his true anger was that her mother had died protecting her, something he could not understand. Elizabeth finally let her tears flow, something she had been unable to do when she had been hidden in that hutch. Her mind released her memories to her as she lay on the warm floorboards, her heart finally able to do what it had not been able to do back then, the process painful and cleansing. Her body rolled onto her side as she pulled her legs up into her chest as she let the anguish course through her, the sounds of her pain filled the air.
Elizabeth was unsure how long she laid on the floor, but the coolness of the house brought her back from the memories of her mother. She now knew what she needed to do next before the sun set.
She groaned as she stood, her body sore from lying so long on the hard floor. Rubbing her lower back, she walked over to the back door off of the kitchen. Her steps determined, as she walked out of the house, and over to the little shed, only to find the doors stuck from so many years of being closed. Frustrated, she found a stout piece of wood to use as leverage as she forced them open. The small space dark as Elizabeth stepped over things, her hand reached out, cringing when cobwebs laced her fingers. Determined to get to the bottom of the lies, she swallowed her fear of the little or big eight-legged creatures.
The shovel was where she remembered and she grabbed the handle to move out of the dark shed and over to the weeping willow. Her steps were hesitant as she tried to remember exactly where her mother buried the chest when a small insignificant x caught her eye.
Elizabeth dug the shovel into the hard ground, jumping on it to make it dig deeper. She lifted the dirt from the hole she dug, over and over again, until she felt like her arms would fall off. Filled with determination, she pushed through the tears which had started to gather, slightly panicked that she would never fully regain that which she had lost.
She paused in her desperation when a sense of paranoia filled her when she felt as though she was being watched. She looked around, her heart in her throat, as she attempted to shake off the feeling that was only enhanced with the lengthening shadows from the descending sun. Then, in a final desperate act, she thrust the shovel down for one last dig, the metal tip hitting hard, pain ricocheted up her arm as she heard the clang of metal. The sense that she was being watched evaporated.
Elated, Elizabeth grinned in satisfaction as she threw the shovel aside to fall onto her knees, her hand reaching down to dig it out the rest of the way, the metal case cold as she attempted to remove it. A giddiness filled her as her exhaustion was forgotten, the box a confirmation that what she remembered was not an illusion, but instead reality. She knew she wasn’t crazy, even though she did have her doubts during the last week or so.
The box firmly stuck in the dirt from so many years of being buried, she dug more around the edges with her hands to get a better grip, the box cutting at her blisters, which broke open and were starting to bleed. She attempted to ignore the pain as she worked harder, then the pain became insignificant when the earth finally released its hold sending Elizabeth falling backwards.
Laughing, she scrambled forward again, her hands greedy as they picked up the elusive treasure. Elizabeth was surprised when it lifted so easily, feeling it should have been heavier with all the secrets and all the pain she went through to retrieve it. She shook the box close to her ear to see if maybe it was just a shell, the sound of something hitting the side was reassuring.
Elizabeth smiled as she turned the box to open it, disappointed when she saw a combination lock holding it closed, the numbers hard to see with the setting sun. She dropped the box to her knees as she looked to the pond where the sun was setting and a bright orange sky framing it. She paused at the beauty of the sky as it framed this small memorial body of water. The night was quiet except for the singing of the bullfrogs and crickets, the moment str
angely beautiful. But, also terrifying, as it reminded her that the closest human was miles away and no one knew where she was.
Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck as she once more felt the presence of eyes on her; apprehension quickly replacing her earlier giddiness as her eyes were drawn back to the darkened house. At this point, Elizabeth started debating whether she should just take the case and return to town or take her chances and spend the night.
Her decision was finally made when she remembered how rough it was to find this place in the daylight, she couldn’t imagine getting out in the dark. Then if something should happen, she didn’t want to be trapped, alone, not knowing what was beyond the trees and bushes. Frustrated that she had failed to think ahead and gotten out before it was impossible, but then again, if she had, she would not have what she had been determined to find; the box beneath the Weeping Willow, with the secrets her mother had died, protecting.
Chapter 34
Roger stood in the widow’s peak that overlooked the property where his Lily and Julia had lived. He had seen when she arrived, surprised when she looked up directly at him and still had not seen him. He had hidden his car earlier just beyond the drive entrance, going the rest of the way to the house on foot, not wanting to tip off anyone with the evidence of another vehicle navigating the drive. He wanted whomever it may be to feel safe and assume that no one else could possibly be here.
Roger had attempted to find out what had happened at Leo’s, from Aurora, but whatever Elizabeth had told her, she was not giving it up, although he could sense her desire to tell him all that she knew. He just didn’t have time to extract from her the full amount of information he needed, especially after what he did learn; he had, however, been able to delay her return to Michigan for another night or two. He smiled at the memory of how pleased she had been that he had wanted her to stay, unaware that he only desired her presence in case he needed to use her to retrieve for him what Elizabeth was on the verge of uncovering.
Secrets of the Weeping Willow Page 24