He noticed one thicker vine dominating the disorderly tangle of bushes and vines covering the house. It looked like wisteria but he’d never seen a vine so thick. He followed the path of the vine by walking a few steps to the right and then back to the left. It looked like the vine wrapped around the whole house, twisting and turning like the stripes on a candy cane. Or maybe more like a boa constrictor wrapping around its prey. He wondered if shifting offshore winds or a series of small hurricanes could have caused the unusual growth pattern and made a note on his cell phone to check for any unusual weather events.
While he had his phone out, he took some pictures of the vines. Then he stepped back to get a picture of the whole house, and further back to include the dunes and road. He was trying to fix the picture of the house and land in his mind when the girls’ shrill yells reached his ears, breaking his concentration. Sam turned and saw Mr. Henley still standing alone on the opposite side of the street.
“Mr. Henley!” Eliza shouted. “Come over here and tell us about the house.”
Mr. Henley stood his ground as if the house might reach out and grab him if he got too close.
“Come on Mr. Henley!” Libby added “This is your job.”
“No!” he shouted back with a slight quiver in his voice.
“My job is to give you a tour of the town and that tour stops right here on this side of the street,” he said stomping his foot for emphasis. “The tour is done and now it’s time to go back to the campground.”
“Not if I can help it,” Rocky said, pulling his cell phone
from his back pocket. “This is the most exciting thing we’ve seen all day. Hello… Aunt Edna? I wanted to let you know that I’m going to stay in town here for a while, okay?” Rocky listened and nodded. “Am I going to be with someone?”
Sam was just coming up to the group and wished he’d stayed
at the house a little longer. It sounded like Rocky was about to
cash in one of his favors.
“Yes, ma’am, I am. I’ll be with Sam. He’s in the tour group.
His parents were there this morning when you signed me up.”
Rocky sounded sure of himself but looked pleadingly at Sam.
“Doctors Gabriela and Tomas Sanchez,” Sam said, against his better judgement.
Rocky relayed the information to his aunt, said a few more
“yes ma’am’s” and hung up.
“Turns out your folks are in the camp office with Aunt Edna right now. They’re signing up for a tour on coastal wildflowers.” He tipped his hat towards Mr. Henley. “For their sake, I hope he’s not their tour guide.”
Sam expected a thank you from Rocky for agreeing to stay in town, but Rocky acted like he was the one doing Sam a favor.
“They said to stay together and be home before dinner,”
Rocky said.
Eliza whined into her phone, “But Dad, can’t we stay just a little while longer? Fine!” she said hanging up. “Come on Libby. We don’t want to stay in town with these losers anyway.” The girls linked arms and walked back across the street.
Sam watched Mr. Henley receive a phone call. After he hung up he waved off Sam and Rocky and ushered the girls back in the direction of the campground. Sam was getting his wish to explore the Humbolt house, but he was stuck with Rocky. At least he only had one person to deal with instead of four. Or did he? The hairs on the back of his neck prickled again, and he looked anxiously at the house for the shape he’d seen before.
“It looks kind of sad, don’t it?” Rocky asked, looking at
the house.
Sam thought so too, but pushed the ridiculous thought away—a house couldn’t have feelings. He needed to focus on facts, not ghost stories and feelings. He dug into his backpack and pulled out
a brochure he’d gotten at the campground.
“Here’s a computer generated picture of what the house looked like when the Humbolts lived here. It says Henry and Rebecca built the house after starting the shipping company. Here’s an artist’s sketch of them with their only child, Genevieve, or Genny as she was called. It’s based on other paintings and drawings of the period,” Sam said, relaxing a bit with each fact. “Two-story houses like this were only for the rich back then. See how the roof comes to a point at the top and slopes down on all four sides? It’s called a hip roof, which was common during that time period. The way it slopes out over the porch is relatively unique to this area though.”
Rocky fanned himself with his hat, his sun-streaked hair ruffling in the breeze. “Whooee! I knew I’d start getting you to talk more normal. You used a bunch of contractions like saying it’s a hip roof instead of it is a hip roof.”
Sam shook his head in disbelief. Not only was Rocky right,
but he also had to be paying close attention to notice the small change in Sam’s speech pattern.
Rocky gave Sam a nudge. “I reckon you’ve got some special information about the windows too.”
Sam was used to being teased for being a know-it-all, but for some reason it didn’t sting so much coming from Rocky.
“The triangle shape above them makes them pediment windows. The triangle is over the doors too. It is another sign of a wealthy owner, but very subtly done.” Sam thought a minute. “It’s as if the owner didn’t want to show off. As if he wanted to be perceived as an ordinary guy.”
“That’s a lot of facts, Buddy, but speaking of doors, why don’t we try going in one? Of course I don’t know who all may be watching, so we should head around to the back,” Rocky said, plopping his hat back on and walking down the street. He disappeared into the jungle of holly, azalea, and sickly-sweet gardenia bushes before Sam had time to object.
Sam shoved the brochure into his backpack and wondered why he let Rocky talk him into staying in town. Now he was stuck with a treasure-hunting nut who was about to break into a house. Sam fought his way through the massive gardenias and six-foot tall holly bushes. He pushed away one last branch and a warm, sea-soaked breeze cooled his sweating face.
“Wow!” Sam said, surprised by the spectacular view of the ocean and bay stretching out before him.
“I agree. It’s what my mama would call ‘bee-a-u-tee-full’,” Rocky said.
Sam walked over to Rocky and they turned to look up at the back of the house. The lot was flat where they stood, then sloped down behind them to the dunes. On the first level of the house, they could see two large windows and a back door that opened onto
the remains of a porch. A few pillars and ceiling joists suggested there used to be a porch roof and a smattering of floorboards were still in place.
“Looks like it used to be a fine porch for folks to sit on
and visit,” Rocky mused.
“Or sleeping on. Without air conditioning those rooms upstairs would have been intolerable,” Sam said looking up to the second story where two gable windows stuck out of the roof like eyes.
“I remember Mr. Henley saying it’s been abandoned for almost 200 years,” Rocky said, shaking his head. “Seems a shame.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “Why would someone abandon a place like this? The view is incredible.”
“Probably the same reason old Mr. Henley stays on the
other side of the street,” Rocky said. “Will did warn us to look out for ghosts.”
Sam felt the tingling on the back of his neck and looked at
the upstairs window. He saw what looked like the same shape he’d seen in the front window, but now he could see it was the face of
a young girl. Before he could get a good look at her though,
she faded away.
Chapter 5
Rocky’s mouth fell open and he gulped loudly. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Sam asked, trying hard to keep his voice calm.
“There was someone in that upstairs window,” Rocky said,
his arm shaking as he pointed to the gable window on the right.
“It looked like a ghost.”
“Impossible. The house is deserted,” Sam said, grasping for facts like they were handholds on a jagged cliff. “It has been for almost two centuries.”
“I don’t know,” Rocky said, still staring at the window.
“I’m right used to people watching me, but this was different.”
“Will just spooked you,” Sam said, still refusing to admit
he’d seen something, too.
“I bet that window is Genny’s room.”
“Was Genny’s room,” Sam corrected. “Past tense. She is long dead and gone.”
A sudden gust of wind swirled around them, snatching Rocky’s hat up into the air. The gust stopped as suddenly as it began, letting Rocky’s hat fall onto Sam’s head with an unexpected force. If Sam believed in ghosts, he would think the ghosts were letting him know that Rocky was right.
“I don’t know,” Rocky said, taking back his hat. “Facts don’t always tell the whole story. Being dead and being gone are not always the same thing.”
“Fine,” Sam said, aggravated by not finding a logical explanation for what he’d seen. “Why don’t you go inside and ask Genny what’s going on then?”
Sam was surprised when Rocky smiled. “I’m starting to rub off on you real good.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.
“You’re not talking all formal like before. If you keep it up, maybe folks won’t tease you so much. But right now, we’ve got some serious exploring to do.” Rocky pushed his hat down firmly on his head and marched towards the back porch. In one easy motion, he pulled himself up onto what was left of the porch like he was mounting a horse. He got in a few steps when a huge gust of wind spun him around and threw him off balance. Rocky teetered and swayed as the aged wood started creaking and breaking beneath him.
In an instant, Sam calculated which way Rocky was most likely to fall and ran up just in time to catch him as he fell backwards, his hat flying. They landed in a heap on a patch of crunchy brown grass.
Sam struggled under Rocky’s weight. “That was a stupid thing to do,” he said, pushing Rocky off.
“Well, I was going to thank you for helping me out, but since it was so terrible for you, then never mind,” Rocky yelled. His face was bright red, and the veins on his slim neck were pulsing. He stood up, rescued his hat from the bushes, and slammed it down on his head.
Sam stood too, brushing the dead grass off his clothes. “Why are you angry? I was only stating a fact. It is illogical to attempt to walk on an old structure without checking for support first.”
“Not everything in this world is logical,” Rocky shouted back, his chest heaving.
Sam rubbed his head to help calm himself down. Even though he’d never been able to keep a friend, he didn’t want to make any more enemies, either. Talking about facts always calmed him down and he hoped it would do the same for Rocky. He looked again at how the vines twisted all the way around the house.
“There must be a low pressure area here that creates an unusual wind,” he said pointing to the twisting vines. “See how it’s made the vines wrap around the house in a spiral? It must be the same wind that came up before you fell and keeps blowing your hat off.”
Sam watched Rocky’s face return to its normal color and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I took a gander in the window before I fell,” Rocky said, his voice more excited than angry. “It looks like that crazy wind was in there, too. All kinds of old furniture and stuff thrown around every whichaway.”
Sam turned back to the windows. “All the old furniture is still there?”
“I only got a peek but it looked that way,” Rocky said. “Wanna go see for yourself?”
Sam bounced risk versus reward scenarios back and forth in his mind. On one side was the opportunity to look into an historic site.
On the other side was the risk of injury from stepping on the rickety porch. But pristine historical data was hard to come by and he decided it was worth the risk to get close enough to see for himself. He studied the porch from below and the sides, pushing and rocking the larger beams.
“Are you some kind of building inspector in your spare time?”
“Some people like to examine the situation before they make a decision that could involve injury.”
“Right. The rest of us are just stupid.”
Sam braced himself for another argument, but looked up to see Rocky smiling. Apparently Rocky was quick to anger, but also quick to recover.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Well, the planks have extensive decay, but the support
joists don’t show substantial termite or water damage. They used cedar, which is resistant both to moisture and insect damage. Interesting, since cedar isn’t native to this area. They would have had to ship the wood here. “
“I guess when you own a shipping company you can do that kind of thing,” Rocky said. “So, after all that explaining, does that mean it’s safe to walk up there?”
“Yes, as long as we keep our weight on separate joists. There is one to the left of where you fell. The next one should be sixteen inches to either side. It is my understanding that you concentrate on a focal point in line with the beam in order to walk straight.”
“Oh, yeah. Like them girls walking on the balance beam.”
This time it was Sam who raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve got a mighty big family and a few of my cousins do gymnastics. They come watch us at the rodeo and we go watch
them at their competitions,” Rocky said with a shrug. “It’s what family does.”
Sam took off his backpack and they each picked a joist, leaving one empty between them. Carefully, they lifted themselves up onto the porch and paused. The aged wood creaked, but did not break.
“Make sure you walk straight,” Sam said spreading his arms for balance. Rocky was already ahead of him, walking heel to toe like he’d done it a million times.
“I’m almost at the window. Where can I step now?”
“Stay as close to the building as possible. There is another support beam running parallel to the house.”
Sam reached the window a few seconds later. Sunlight streamed into the room and he cupped his hands around his face for a
better look. He peered through the aged glass and let himself fall into the past laid out before him.
Wooden chairs lay on the floor under a gaming table where they would have played card games. Sam could imagine crystal glasses sparkling in the candlelight as the cards were played. How he would have loved to be a part of that. He would have easily remembered the cards the others played and quickly calculated his chances for success. Yes, he would have been popular back then.
To the left of the gaming table he could make out a fireplace. Sam turned on his cell phone flashlight and saw a table with a chess board set up on it. All the pieces were in place, except for the queens. Searching with his flashlight beam, he found them laying on the floor with their heads broken off. Sam frowned. No wind could have done that.
“Whooee! Are you seeing all the fancy stuff in there?”
Rocky asked. “A little polish and that teapot would bring in some good cash-ola.”
“Yes,” Sam agreed. “The pieces are incredible. I wonder why they haven’t been sold or stolen or put in a museum.”
Sam turned his flashlight beam to his left and saw maps and paintings scattered across the floor. All except for one. A family portrait still hung straight and solid on the wall. Sam stared at the painting feeling it pull him in until he saw nothing else.
Time had obscured many of the details, but with his flashlight he could still make out the face of a man with piercing blue eyes and bushy eyebrows. To his left stood a woman, and between them, a youn
g girl. They looked very much like the sketches of Henry, Rebecca and Genny Humbolt in the brochure. Sam shivered despite the heat.
Genny appeared closer to him than the others, as if she had stepped forward. Her eyes were soft green and they made Sam smile. She seemed restless, as if she were tired of standing and wanted to be on her way. Sam moved to the right and then left but her gaze never faltered. Her eyes followed his every move.
Sam turned to tell Rocky about it when he heard something.
It was a young girl’s voice and it called out his name. “Sam!”
“Rocky! Did you hear that?” Sam asked.
“Hear what? The sound of all the money we could get for
this stuff? I sure enough heard that.”
Sam looked back at the painting. The girl seemed even closer than before. Her voice echoed in his head. “Help us Sam. Please help us. You are our last hope.”
Sam blinked and turned off his flashlight. He could still see her, but her voice was drowned out by a deep moan coming from behind him. He turned quickly, flattening his back against the window to steady himself. Rocky was in the same position, his face pale. Sam looked around but there was nothing to see but bushes and tall grass. The moaning continued rising slowly in pitch and intensity until it was a piercing scream.
Chapter 6
The scream stopped as quickly as it had begun and the bushes near the house started to rustle. Sam held his breath and felt his heart pounding. Whatever was out there sounded like it was headed straight towards them.
Will pushed through the last of the bushes doubling over with laughter. Sam exhaled, his breath whistling through his pursed lips.
“You boys scared or something?” Will asked between bouts
A Ghostly Twist Page 3