by Amy Reade
“I don’t know. I don’t know if she wants to be reminded of her old surroundings. Like I’ve told you before, there were a lot of unhappy memories in these old places.”
“Will you ask her?”
“Yes.”
Phyllis wandered slowly around the inside of the cabin, touching the walls here and there, pausing to read some of the articles printed on the paper. I wondered what could be going through her mind.
She turned to me, pointing to one of the articles on the wall. “This auction was for slaves that were from a house not far from here,” she said. “The auctions were always held in an open square outdoors so people could see the slaves clearly. The buyers used to inspect the slaves’ teeth, just like horses. They used to measure them, with rulers, just like they would a piece of furniture. Often a buyer would buy just the father, like Sarah’s father, or just the mother, or just one of their children. Sometimes children and parents were separated for the rest of their lives after those auctions.”
“That’s horrible,” I said quietly. I couldn’t imagine the sadness that had been felt in the one-room cabin all those years ago. I felt a pang of guilt at having shown her the wallpaper, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t know those activities took place. And if the cabins were to be historically accurate they would have had such newspaper articles on the walls.
“It sure is.”
She moved toward the door. “Did you paper the walls in the rest of the cabins, too?”
“Not yet, but I’m planning to. I started in this one.”
“You know, there was another reason that slaves often covered their walls with newsprint,” she informed me.
“What was the reason?”
“Many slaves believed that the evil spirits who wandered around in the night would not harm anyone in a particular place until they had read every last word that was printed on the walls. So the slaves papered their walls with newsprint—it kept the spirits from harming them because it was taking them so long to read everything in the cabin.” She chuckled. “They outsmarted the spirits, that’s for sure.”
“What a great idea!”
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work. Starting to set up for Vivian’s party, you know. See you later,” she said, waving as she went down the steps.
I stared at the door after she left. I hadn’t known about the reading spirits. Phyllis had taught me a lot since my arrival at Peppernell Manor.
I got cleaned up and went to pick up Lucy. I was tempted to drive slowly past the address Brad had given me for his new apartment, but I dared not. I had looked up a map of Charleston online and found the address. I was thankful that it was not near Lucy’s school. I didn’t want her to see him by chance before I was ready to tell her that he was in town.
I had been so busy the last few days that I hadn’t peeked into the ballroom, where Phyllis was preparing for Vivian’s open house. That evening after dinner Lucy and I walked into the ballroom and were stunned by the changes that had already been made.
The high ceiling had been strung with strands of tiny white fairy lights that looked just like stars from where we stood. There were dozens of flocked Christmas trees lining the walls of the room, two or three deep, standing on a carpet of fake snow, which was held in place by temporary brick borders that meandered along the sides and through the middle of the room. Some of the trees twinkled with more white lights, but some were left bare. Artificial cardinals sat on random tree branches throughout the large space. Here and there set among the trees were small tables, covered in cloths of white and blue to complement the color of the walls. All through the room small benches were tucked amid the trees, beckoning guests to sit and relax.
The whole effect was enchanting. Lucy couldn’t even speak. She took my hand as we wandered around, gazing up at the ceiling and the tall trees. Finally she asked, “What happened?”
I smiled at her. “Phyllis has been fixing up this room for a special party. Isn’t it beautiful?”
She nodded, too absorbed in looking around to answer me.
Phyllis appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat. We turned.
“Phyllis! This is absolutely gorgeous!” I told her. “You’ve outdone yourself. Do you do this every year?”
She smiled graciously. “Thank you. I decorate every year, but wanted a little something different this year that would highlight the ceiling and the new color on the walls. Do you think it works?”
She of course already knew the answer. “Does it work!? It’s perfect! Has Vivian seen it yet?”
“Yes. She seems to like it, but she doesn’t hand out praise to me very often.”
“Well, she should.”
“Thank you.”
Lucy finally spoke again. “Can we go to the party?”
“Of course you’re going to the party!” Phyllis answered.
Lucy was all smiles.
The next day I worked more on the wallpaper in the cabins. I had decided to paper all the cabins before starting on the next task, which would be to whitewash the outside walls. I had originally planned to alternate between the cabins and the basement, but I was so excited to finally begin work on the cabins, my pet project, that I decided to wait and work on the basement once the cabins were complete. Besides, it would be nice to be working indoors when the weather got colder.
As the days went by, I made swift progress with the cabins. I was glad, as the air had become dry and chilly. Though the winter in South Carolina would be nothing like the winter in Chicago, it was still cold working outside and I was anxious to get back indoors. I spent several days looking for the perfect furniture to place in the cabins. I didn’t need much—just a rough-hewn table and a chair or two for each cabin. I had bought several two-by-fours and planned to fashion them into simple bed frames and lay two on the floor of each cabin, one on each side of the fireplace, representing the space each family had. I had also bought ticking material and planned to have it stuffed with material to mimic the look of a homemade mattress. The mattresses that the slaves used would have been stuffed with straw or dried grass or rags, but I needed to use a more durable substance. While I shopped for furniture I also kept my eyes open for vintage bedding that I could use. Phyllis had told me that slaves often didn’t have much bedding—sometimes an entire family would have to share one blanket. I wanted just one sheet and one thin blanket for each bed.
I remembered seeing a table in the back of Vivian’s store that would be perfect for one of the cabins. Perhaps I would be able to find a chair or two there, too. I headed over to her shop and when I pushed open the door I saw Heath talking to Vivian by the counter.
“What are you doing here?” I asked in surprise.
“Just came in to see Mom,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for some simple antique furniture to use in the cabins,” I explained. “Vivian, there was a small square table in the back the last time I was in here. Could I take a look around back there again?”
“Sure. I’d love to get rid of some of those tables back there and make room for new stuff.”
Heath accompanied me to the back and supplied the muscle I needed to move some of the antique items around so that I could get a good look at the table. It was perfect. I also found a simple chair that I decided to pair with it. I told Vivian what I was taking so she could do the proper paperwork, then Heath helped me carry the table and chair out the back door of the shop. Before I left I had one more look around the back room; there were several other tables that might work in the cabins, but I wanted to look in some other shops first.
When I returned to the manor I set up the table and chair in the first slave cabin. They were perfect. Not beautiful, not even attractive. But they fit the space very well. I decided to go out looking for three more tables and several more chairs in the morning. I also needed some basic cooking utensils and tools that I could hang from the sides of the fireplaces.
I found exactly what I was looking for in another antique sh
op the following day. In fact, I found everything I needed in one store that was near Peppernell Manor. The shop owner even mentioned the possibility that the pieces I bought may actually have come from Peppernell Manor originally. It was an intriguing thought.
I set up the cabins and they looked just right. I had even found an old fiddle that I placed on a shelf in one of the cabins. I hoped it was just like the ones Phyllis’s ancestors—Sarah’s family—had used. I couldn’t wait for Phyllis to see them completed. I went to the house looking for her. She wasn’t in the kitchen and she wasn’t on the first floor of the house. I went upstairs calling her name, but she wasn’t on the second floor, either. I knocked on the door to her apartment; no answer. She wasn’t in the basement. I went outdoors to look for her and finally found her coming around the back of the house with an armload of cut dahlias and viburnum.
“Hi, Phyllis. I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I’m finally done getting the furniture in all the cabins and I thought you’d like to have a look.” I could hardly contain my excitement.
“All right,” she replied calmly. “Just let me put these flowers in the sink and I’ll be right with you.”
I followed her into the kitchen and waited impatiently while she placed the flowers in the sink and ran water over their long stems. “Let me just arrange these quickly in a vase,” she said.
When she had finally set the flowers on a pedestal in the front hall, she followed me out the door and over to the slave cabins. I pushed open the creaky door of the first cabin and stood stock-still, staring in horror at the scene before me.
CHAPTER 24
Shreds of wallpaper hung in long strips from the walls. In some places the paper had been torn off completely and lay in ribboned heaps on the floor. I let out a cry of dismay.
“What happened? I was just in here and everything looked perfect!”
Phyllis looked around in alarm, then turned and ran to the next cabin. Her face was grim when she emerged.
“No. Don’t say it,” I told her.
Together we looked inside the remaining two cabins. The walls had all suffered the same fate.
“I don’t understand how this could have happened!” I cried. “I was only in the manor house for a short time!”
“Did you see or hear anything unusual?” Phyllis asked.
“No. It was quiet out here.”
“Maybe we should have a look around,” Phyllis suggested.
“Okay,” I replied miserably. “But I doubt we’re going to find anything. Or anyone.”
I was right. We looked around the outsides of the cabins and in the surrounding wooded area, but there was no one to be seen. I groaned. “I’m going to have to repaper those walls. I don’t have enough paper, so I’ll have to wait until more can be made.”
Phyllis looked at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry this happened, Carleigh. I know I’ve been the voice of doom about this project, but I think you’ve done a good job and done it respectfully. I hate to see this.”
“Thanks, Phyllis.”
“I think even Sarah will like it once she sees the care you’ve put into the job. I don’t want her to see it like this, though,” Phyllis said.
“I don’t either.”
“I’ll keep her away. Don’t worry,” Phyllis assured me.
I wondered yet again about Phyllis’s odd relationship with the long-dead Sarah.
“Do you mind if I speak frankly?” Phyllis asked.
“Please do.”
“You remember what I told you about that dog of Heath’s. You have to admit that bad things continue to happen around here since she came around. To be honest, I don’t think they’re going to stop until that dog goes away.”
“Please, Phyllis—” I began.
“No,” she interrupted, holding up her hand for silence. “Don’t say anything. I know how you feel about my superstitions. But there’s some truth to what I’ve said, isn’t there?” She left the cabin and walked toward the manor.
I didn’t answer. It was ridiculous that she still felt that way about Addie. Of course things had been difficult at Peppernell Manor since Addie’s arrival, but it had nothing to do with her. I wished I could get Phyllis to understand that.
I walked forlornly back to the manor, where I placed a call to the shop where I had ordered the wallpaper for the cabins. The owner was shocked to learn what had happened, and assured me that she would put a rush on the replacement order. It would still take some time, though, so over the next several days I would work on the basement. I dreaded telling Graydon and Vivian and Ruby about the cabins. We spoke at dinner, and they were very concerned about who had vandalized the property. Graydon suggested immediately that I call the police.
But I wasn’t ready to involve the police just yet. I was coming to grips with the probable identity of the culprit. I tried calling Heath to talk about it with him, but he was working late in his office and I could tell from his voice that he was feeling overwhelmed. I didn’t want to add to his stress.
Certainly it had not been committed by anyone at Peppernell Manor. Graydon and Vivian and Ruby would have to pay for the wallpaper to be replaced, so I was sure it wasn’t any of them. It wasn’t Phyllis, since she was out cutting flowers when I left the cabins in search of her. It wasn’t Heath. It couldn’t have been Evie; I was sure she would never have done such a thing. That left someone outside of Peppernell Manor.
That left Brad.
Why would he do something so stupid? Though I didn’t want the police involved, I needed to find out why Brad was tormenting me. I planned to pay him a visit at his new apartment the following day and demand payment on the Peppernells’ behalf for the replacement wallpaper. I didn’t care that the police had warned me to stay away from him; I was going to talk to him.
But by the next day I had lost some of my bravado. I called him and asked him to meet me at a coffee shop near his apartment. He agreed and when we met, the conversation went exactly the way I had assumed it would.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Carleigh,” he informed me shortly.
“Brad, just stop it. I’m not here to argue about whether you did it. I know you did it. What I want is for you to pay for the replacement wallpaper.”
“That’s crazy! I’m not doing it!”
I was fed up and furious with him. “Brad, don’t make me go to the police about this.”
“I’m not making you do anything. I’m not paying for something I didn’t do.”
I pushed back my chair and turned to leave, but I wheeled around to face him again. “You can’t possibly think this bodes well for you seeing Lucy anytime soon,” I told him.
“Maybe I’ll go to the police myself and have you arrested for harassment,” he spat.
I left in a rage.
I went to Heath’s office, hoping to find him there so he could take a walk with me; I needed to calm down. Luckily he was in.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw my harried face.
“I just had a row with Brad. He defaced the slave cabins and now he’s denying it and refusing to pay for the wallpaper that has to be replaced,” I answered furiously.
“Okay, let’s take it slow,” he said. “What happened?”
I related the story of the previous day’s events.
“Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”
“You sounded so busy and hassled that I didn’t want to bother you with it,” I admitted.
“Anything that happens to you, I want to know about it. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“Now, let’s get back to the vandalism. You think Brad did it?”
“Absolutely.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s mad at me. He’s trying to get back at me for taking Lucy away from him while he’s in legal hot water. He’s still stalking me!”
“Okay,” Heath said gently. “Have you talked to the police?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Are yo
u going to?”
“I guess I’ll have to. Will you go with me?”
“You know I will.”
We went that afternoon. The police said they would look into it. It was a thoroughly unsatisfying response, but it was unfair of me to expect anything else. Of course they couldn’t go right out and arrest Brad without looking into the incident first.
“I hate to drag you into this,” I told Heath as we were leaving the police station.
“I’d rather be dragged into it than see you facing it yourself,” he replied, putting his arm around my shoulders. “Want to go to a movie tonight? Maybe it’ll help you forget your troubles for a while.”
“I can’t go unless it’s rated G. I don’t want to go anywhere without Lucy until everything is settled with Brad.”
When I had picked up Lucy and returned to Peppernell Manor, Vivian asked me to help Phyllis in the ballroom. The open house was only two days away, and Vivian was both giddy and frenzied by the preparations.
“Carleigh, would you mind taking a break from your work in the basement and helping Phyllis get the floor coverings in place? They’re bulky and I want them just right. Phyllis can show you where they go. I would help but I have to run over to the florist to make sure they have everything in order.” Without waiting for an answer, she swept out the front door and hurried to her car, now repaired from the damage she had done to it during the hurricane.
Lucy and I walked into the ballroom where Phyllis was tugging at a rolled-up white carpet.
“Do you need my help with that?” I asked her.
She grunted in reply. I took one end of the carpet and we started unrolling it between the brick edging that snaked through the ballroom. When we finished that roll, I helped her get another one from the corridor between the kitchen and her apartment. We unrolled the second one, then a third and a fourth before all the “snowy walkway” was in place. We worked for a while positioning the carpet exactly between the bricks so no hardwood floor would be visible beneath it, and it looked just right when we were done.
The room was beautiful. Lucy was playing hide-and-seek among the snow-flocked trees and the lights twinkled above our heads. Phyllis had discreetly set up wireless speakers in some of the trees to pipe Christmas music through the huge room.