The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion

by Roger Hayden

  Curtis brought his hands up to his head, massaging his temples. “Nah. That’s all right. Why don’t you go check out the master bedroom before I have them move in the rest of our stuff?”

  “Sure thing,” she said with a smile.

  She walked way toward the stairs climbed the white marble steps as they winded to the second floor. The faded brass railing had circular see-through patterns on it that ended at two thick rail posts at the top of the stairs. A glass chandelier hung within eye level over the floor below. She the foyer below as well as the lounge room where they were standing a while ago. Dizziness fell over her again, but she chalked it up to her hasty jog up the stairs.

  She turned to the right and went down the hall headed toward the master bedroom, second door on the right. The doors on both sides of the hall were open halfway, exposing darkened empty rooms. She pushed the master bedroom door open and realized that she hadn’t even looked at the folded blueprint layout tucked into her pocket. This was the room. She just knew it.

  The arched windows in the bedroom were nearly the size of the entire wall. They were less dirty than most and the sunlight beamed in, illuminating the bare hardwood floors that were so dusty, she left footprints as she walked across. The white ceiling was high and the walls were gray-patterned with sterling light fixtures bolted along the way.

  She approached the windows, curious to see the view from their bedroom. The backyard was enormous with grass so high it covered a stone walkway that lead to a sizable gazebo covered in vines. Beyond the gazebo was thick forest, seemingly untouched by man. With its abundance of trees and underbrush, there was no denying that the backyard was a mess. She couldn’t imagine the amount of upkeep it was going to take to keep everything under control. Could they even afford to live here? Perhaps that was the scam to the entire place.

  She turned to the bathroom at the other end of the room and went over to check it out. With a click of her flashlight, she looked inside, not surprised to see more space than they knew what do with. There was a long counter with two sinks, a bathtub, a standing shower, a bidet, and a toilet, golden but heavily faded. She left the bathroom with her mind racing. She had never been in a mansion let alone believed she’d ever live in one.

  “Mary, where you at!” Curtis’s voice shouted from the hall.

  “Back here,” she said, walking out of the room to meet him. He was leading the movers down the hall as they carried a mattress box spring. “Wait a minute,” she said. “We need to clean these floors before putting anything in here.”

  The movers stopped with a large sigh between them as they lowered the mattress. Curtis stood nearby, dazed but understanding. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He turned to the movers. “Hold up, guys. We gotta clean these rooms up first.”

  They leaned against the mattress and shrugged. Curtis turned to the staircase as Mary followed. “I can help clean,” she said.

  “Mary, we’re paying these people. I want you to take it easy.”

  “We’re not royalty,” she said as they descended the stairs. “It’s our house, and I want to help out.”

  Curtis said no more. They walked through the foyer and back outside where the collective work of a dozen landscapers, painters, and movers continued.

  As she walked into the courtyard, Mary glanced up into the window near the second-story balcony. She could see someone standing there watching them. At first glance, she assumed it to be the one of the two movers who brought the mattress up. Her attention went to the front door where both men walked outside. Her heart seized as she glanced up to the window again, but no one was there.

  ***

  Later that evening, Mary and Curtis sat on the floor of their master bedroom. Their mattress sat in the corner with blankets strewn over it. Among them sat two burning candles, a pizza box, and an open bottle of wine on the floor. It had been a long day, and they were both ready to call it quits. Mary wore a nightgown she had pulled from her luggage. Curtis wore a pair of plaid pajamas from his carry bag.

  Their first night in the house so far seemed peaceful and relaxing. Mary wondered at the thought that she could ever get used to living here.

  “I heard some scratching in one of the rooms downstairs,” Mary said, taking a sip of wine from her glass.

  Curtis tipped his wine glass with a smile. “Not to worry, my dear, pest control will be here all week.”

  Mary didn’t know how much to tell Curtis about her visions and the spoon incident from the kitchen. It all seemed inconsequential. She wanted nothing more than to embrace their new life, but there was an undeniable uncertainty brewing from within.

  “What are we going to do with all this space?” she asked, taking a sip. “Did you ever think about that?”

  “What do you mean?” Curtis asked.

  Seated cross-legged, Mary leaned forward feeling a tad combative, courtesy of the wine. “This place is large enough to fit a family of twenty. It’s nice, but it’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

  “I think it’s perfect,” Curtis said, leaning against the bed. Its frame sat in against the wall near them currently unassembled.

  “My mother thinks we’re crazy,” Mary replied, “and I’m starting to believe her.”

  Curtis touched her bare knee with affection. No matter how determined she was to press him, he wouldn’t let her. “Fair enough, but there’s a lot your mother doesn’t know about the circumstances that brought us here are.”

  Mary set her glass on the floor and leaned back, stretching. The floor had been clean and was a startling difference from what it had looked like a few hours ago. The same couldn’t be said of every room. There was still a lot of work to be done.

  “A lot of it still doesn’t make sense to me,” she said, looking up at the high ceiling above.

  Curtis scratched his head with a sigh. “What doesn’t make sense?” he asked as though obligated.

  “Why we moved here. Not Redwood. Not a small town, but this mansion. What are you trying to prove?”

  Curtis smiled, took both empty wine glasses, and stood up. “I think we should just call it a night. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Don’t deflect,” Mary said, her voice raising. “Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”

  Curtis step forward unable to mask his increasing frustration. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why did you move us here?” she shouted. “You purchased this property with our money while I was in the hospital. It’s not right.”

  Curtis ran his hands through his hair as his eyes closed. Mouth opened, he turned around without saying a word.

  “What?” Mary said, waiting. “Spit it out.”

  He spun back around, eyes fierce and angry. “I took action, okay? I made a decision for us because that’s what husbands do. I wasn’t going to just sit around twiddling my thumbs. You hated Chicago. You told me as much. That city was draining us both.”

  “Part of me wishes that you just waited until we had the time to really discus this,” Mary said. “Not it’s too late.”

  Curtis threw his arms down. “You’re sounding ridiculous!”

  Suddenly, both candles erupted in a bright burst of flame and then immediately extinguished leaving the room pitch black. Mary and Curtis sat silently in the dark, neither of them too keen on what had just happened.

  “Just great,” Curtis said.

  He leaned down, pulled a light from his pocket, and tried to re-lit them, but the wick wouldn’t take on either candle.

  “What’s wrong with these piece of shit candles?” he shouted.

  “Calm down,” Mary said.

  He sat back on the floor, deflated. “How about we just call it a night?”

  “What just happened with those candles?” Mary asked. “Don’t you think that was strange.”

  Curtis skidded close to her and put his arm around her. “It’s okay,” he said with tenderness. “I’m sorry I got angry.”

  “Me too,” she said, placing
her hand over his arm. He kissed her on the forehead as she stared at the sliver of smoke flowing from each candle. She still couldn’t wrap her head around it. “Weird…” she said softly.

  “Tell me about it,” Curtis replied.

  They sat together for a moment lost in their own thoughts as her affection for Curtis subsided earlier discontent. He had done his best, she believed, and she wasn’t going to harp on it any longer. There were, however, real issues she couldn’t ignore.

  Beyond the strangeness of the mansion, she was most concerned about the upkeep. How could they possibly afford it? reality was that they were living in a mansion that they both could not afford, not the mortgage but the upkeep. A couple moves into a mansion large enough to fit a family of twenty. It was an insane idea but for that moment, she felt like she had to accept it for what it was.

  Chapter Six

  A Stroll through Town

  Mary awoke to sunlight beaming into their room, feeling disoriented. Curtis’s side of the mattress was empty and she could hear movement downstairs. For a moment, she lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. It felt strange to wake up in a new place, especially when she remembered where she was. The Bechdel mansion was a barrage of undiscovered secrets in her mind. It didn’t matter how long ago the murders took place. The house was trying to tell her something. It had been trying to tell her something the minute they left Chicago.

  Just as soon as this realization came over Mary, she heard a large thud downstairs followed by several voices. She stretched and leaned over the side of the bed, retrieving her cell phone.

  “Damn…” she said upon seeing that it was five past ten. They still had a lot of unpacking, cleaning, and moving to do. Settling in seemed a mammoth task that could take weeks. Curtis also wanted to go into town that day. Mary wasn’t even out of bed yet, and she already felt in over her head. Perhaps just lying in bed was her best option.

  The stillness in the air indicated that the power still wasn’t on. It would take a good shower and a big cup of coffee to get her up in moving. She sat up as she heard footsteps clamoring up the stairs in unison and the sound of Curtis’s voice directing the movers. “That’s the guest bed. You can put it in this room here.”

  Guest bed? she wondered. What else has he bought?

  She heard them shuffle around in the room next door and stepped out of bed. Her bare feet touched the warm hardwood floor as she went to the door and closed it, muffling the commotion. She turned around and looked at the two large windows across the room overlooking the backyard. They were both opened, offering a slight breeze into the room.

  She walked to her suitcase and placed it on the bed, zipping it open. Assorted clothes were crammed inside. The double closet in the room was a large enough to hit her entire wardrobe and then some, but for the time being, she was living out of a suitcase.

  She grabbed a T-shirt and white shorts and headed for the bathroom, where she would find out just how well the plumbing worked. A small window illuminated the vast bathroom, and as she walked toward the standing shower, loosening her nightgown, she heard the bedroom door open.

  She froze and pulled her nightgown back on. “Curtis?” she said. The bathroom door was opened a crack and she cursed herself for being so careless. The footsteps continued as she walked to the door calling for Curtis again. As she pushed the door open, she was taken aback to see a large bearded man, sweaty and panting, wander through the room like a lost child.

  “Excuse me!” she shouted, backing into the bathroom.

  She heard the man halt. “I-I’m sorry ma’am. I was just looking for a restroom.”

  She clutched her chest and backed against the wall. “Well, this is our room! Please talk to my husband and find another.”

  The man apologized and stumbled out of the room, closing the door behind him. Mary remained against the wall with an increased heartrate. She couldn’t believe it. She lowered her arms, sighing in frustration and went to the shower. The orange and white checkered tile inside looked old fashion, to say the least, and there two knobs below the shower head. She turned the left knob, assuming it was for hot water, and the pipes rumbled in shook, spraying out water intermittently.

  She held her hand into the spray and felt a dash of warmth. After a moment, more water began to flow, but it had an almost sulfuric smell to it. The last thing she wanted to do was to have a strange odor on her. She stood there waiting for it to get better still dressed in her nightgown. Beyond the unwelcomed intruder from a moment ago, she had the strangest feeling that she was being watched.

  From outside the bedroom door opened and shut again. Her head whipped around the bathroom door, but she heard nothing else. She turned the water off, frustrated. “Damn it, Curtis. That better be you.” She felt vulnerable even though her door was locked.

  “What are you so afraid of?” a man’s voice asked. It sounded almost like Curtis, but she couldn’t tell for certain. Livid, she rushed to the bathroom door and swung it open, prepared to give whomever it was a piece of her mind. Their room was quiet and undisturbed. No one was there. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. The door was closed. Their mattress was in the corner on top of a boxes-spring, her luggage, Curtis’s carry bag, and a few boxes from downstairs were lay about, but there was no man.

  She darted to the open windows and looked below into the lush, overgrown backyard. There was no sign of anyone. She didn’t know what kind of game someone was playing with her, but she didn’t like it. Her hands vaulted at the windows and pulled them shut in anger. She scurried across the room and locked the bedroom door. Taking a shower had never proved so cumbersome. With all security measures in place, she walked back toward the bathroom, stopping at her suitcase as a thought crossed her mind.

  She leaned down and tore through her clothes in a frenzy. Her hands stopped as she slowly pulled a .38 caliber pistol from the bottom. She wasn’t going to take any more chances. Feeling frazzled, she went back to the bathroom, locked the door, and set the pistol on the gray tiled countertop. The showerhead dripped in slow intervals as she dropped her nightgown and tried her hand at the knobs again. Water spurted and gushed for a moment before flowing naturally in warm, steady stream. The strange smell had managed to subside as well. She stepped inside, feeling immediate and much needed relief. It was only morning, and already she felt like she was being tested.

  Showered and dressed, Mary walked downstairs, apprehensive about running into any of the movers. There were several men around, but Curtis wasn’t among them. She politely gave them a “good morning” and continued her search, walking outside to the bright light of the morning, shining down onto the cement courtyard, where the heat felt at its apex.

  There were dozens of people outside, many of them still working on the massive lawn and overgrown trees and hedges surrounding the mansion. There was a roofer team above, walking along the top of the mansion and tossing rotted panels into a pile below. That day, Mary imagined, would be much like the day before with different maintenance teams and movers deep into their work. Ahead, next to the moving truck, she saw Curtis. He stood in the shade with a tall, skinny man who wore a red-netted hat. Mary knew him as Skip, one of the two movers who had driven the truck. The other five or six who had recently showed up, she hadn’t met before, but she was certain that the man who came into her room was among them.

  She stormed over to Curtis, incensed. He looked up and smiled at her, but when he saw the straight line of her mouth and livid eyes, his smile dropped.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her, eyes brimming with concern.

  “Can I talk with you in private?” she asked and glanced at Skip.

  Curtis looked around, taken off guard. “Yeah… Yeah, sure.” He excused himself and followed Mary around to the other side of the truck. Once they were alone, she leaned closer and spoke in a soft but forceful tone.

  “One of the movers came into our room earlier.”

  Curtis’s eyes widened. “What?”

>   “Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “I was about to take a shower and he walked right in like he owned the place.”

  Curtis covered his mouth. “Oh my God…”

  Realizing she was laying it on pretty thick, Mary raised a hand up. “It was an honest mistake, I imagine. He said he was looking for a bathroom, but I didn’t appreciate the intrusion one bit.”

  Curtis nodded, biting his lip. “I’ll talk to them. I’m so sorry, honey. They should know better.”

  “That’s not all,” she said, cutting in.

  Curtis looked even more surprised as though he couldn’t believe the story could get worse.

  “After he left, another person came into the room.”

  “What?” Curtis shouted.

  “I was about to get into the shower, and someone came in and said ‘what are you afraid of?’ That was their exact words. I thought it was you at first, but when I opened the door, no one was there.”

  “Are you serious?” Curtis asked in disbelief.

  “I know what heard.”

  Curtis looked around with his hands at his sides and growing increasingly frustrated. “Well, that’s it. Whoever that was, they’re gone. I’ll talk to Skip now. Fire the whole damn team if I have to.”

  He began to walk away when Mary clutched his shoulder, holding him back. “That’s not it, Curtis. I don’t think the second man was one of the movers.”

  Mouth open, Curtis’s eyes darted around, trying to make sense of it. He looked up to the roofers on top of the mansion. “Then it probably was one of them,” he said pointing. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”

  “I don’t think it was any of them,” she said with conviction.

  “What are you saying?” he demanded.

  “I think it’s this house. There’s no way someone could have snuck out of our room like that.”

  Curtis held both his arms up in frustration. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. So was the first guy real or not?”

  “Yes!” she said.