~ Angel's Rest ~

by

Mary Edwards

Rebel kept me busy. Oh yes, I named him Rebel. I was in love for the first time in my life, in love with a tiny bit of a dog that I knew was going to grow into a monster, if the size of his feet were any indication. But puppy or no puppy, I had to get more done inside the house. To keep him out of the way, I put a basket in my room and left him there so he wouldn’t be under foot. Next, I went to work on the big room with the black marble fireplace.

There was only one thing that kept me from singing at my work—Sadie’s attitude. She had grown silent and seldom had a word for me.

I took Rebel out for a short romp, then went to my room early that night. When he cried, I lifted him into bed with me. After a few moments of play, he curled up at my feet and it wasn’t long until we were both asleep. Rebel chased something with all four feet racing in place. I dreamed of chandeliers, pots of gleaming copper and Sean Wilson leaning against the mantel. I saw nothing strange about it. Nothing strange unless crystal swinging from a kitchen ceiling or copper pans on parlor walls made an odd arrangement. Or the way, I melted into Sean’s arms when he left the mantel and opened them wide.

I awoke in the middle of the night to lie wide awake, thinking about Sean and the heart-pounding thrill each time I dreamed of him. I wanted his arms around me if only in my dreams, but I was afraid that soon the dreams would not be enough. They did not ease the ache in my body when awake and I suffered a sense of loss bordering on bereavement every time he left me. I knew I must get over these feelings. They were becoming more real every day.

I also felt the pull of the funny room behind the house. It seemed as if it had once been apart from the big house, but had decided it wanted to come close and be attached. Puzzled by my strange thoughts, and a faint odor of sandalwood, I reached to bring the puppy close to me. He was not there. I called to him, but heard no answering sounds of a wriggling, snuffling pup. I clicked the lamp switch. I clicked it again and again but there was no light. I sat up and felt for my slippers. I had given no thought to bulbs that burn out. But from now on I would keep a flashlight handy.

I found my robe in the dark and felt my way to the door. The dark was absolute in the room, and I remembered I had failed to close the drapes before going to bed. I looked toward the windows. They were black with no gleam of moonlight, no soft gray that is sometimes visible when there is no moon. I knew in that moment that I was not alone. I could hear the soft-held breath as it whispered out from lungs that cried out for air. I slid my hand along the wall until I found the door. I heard a rapid scratching and found the doorknob, only to swing the door open into more darkness. The puppy climbed at my legs. I reached down and picked him up. In the next moment, the lights went on and I was running down the hall in terror.

I stopped and looked back. Something lunged at me and froze me into immobility. Rebel yelped as I squeezed too hard. His yelp freed my legs and set me in motion. I ran down the hall with that thing at my heels. I heard myself screaming. Then Melanie was in the hall behind me, and there was nothing. Just the same long hallway with closed doors and nothing else. Melanie looked at me as if she thought I had taken leave of my senses. I mumbled something about a nightmare, and swore I would never have coffee before bedtime again

I looked back down the hall and knew Melanie could see I was trembling. She spoke words so welcome I hugged her in gratitude. “You should spend the rest of the night in my room. You don’t need to be alone in the state you are in,” she said. She went back to my room with me to get Rebel’s bed. I carried it back to her room and crawled in beside her to lie awake all of the remaining night, listening to her soft even breath as she slept.

I remembered the look of the thing I had seen in the hall and knew it was human. A flesh and blood human with a stocking pulled down over the face to flatten the features into a grotesque look--a look aimed at frightening me into leaving. I wanted to quit this place at once, take Rebel and go, but I knew I couldn’t. I had never had a chance in my young life to prove I could stick when the odds were against me. This was my chance. Besides, if someone wanted me gone, I meant to stay and find out why.

As these thoughts went through my mind, dawn came as if gray silk chiffon had been pulled against the window. Melanie was still sleeping as I lifted Rebel from his bed and eased the door open quietly so I would not disturb her. I didn’t go back to my room to dress but went downstairs to the kitchen in my bare feet with my robe pulled over my shoulders.

I made coffee and carried my cup outside into the new pink and gold light of the sun as it came up over the hill. Rebel ran to the side of the gravel drive and relieved himself. He bounded back, ready to play. I ignored him. He went off on business of his own and left me in peace to revel in the sunrise. I enjoyed walking barefoot in the dew-wet grass. It had been a long time since I had this pleasure and it was a good feeling that drove the night’s terror from my mind. Time raced by and I was surprised to see Sadie walking up the drive. When I smiled at her, she returned my smile, making the day all the more pleasant.

I called Rebel to my side and joined her. I left her at the foot of the stairs and went up to dress. I felt a qualm as I opened the door, but it was dispelled as the morning light filled my eyes. I remembered the closed drapes of the night before, and wondered who had opened them and why were they trying to frighten me away. As I dressed for the day, I made up my mind to find out as much as possible. When breakfast was over, I began work immediately and hoped to get a lot done. I made a good start and carried through the chores I had planned in the still hours before dawn.

~ * ~

I was trying to make the parlor come alive but it wouldn’t. Suddenly, I knew the very piece that belonged there. The escritoire belonged in the corner. I wondered how I could have missed it. I had the men bring it in and place it as I had imagined it, and the corner came alive except for one thing. I needed a blue velvet chair to go with it. With the thought, a flash of remembrance came, memories of red, deep dark red, similar to the chairs Melanie had brought down. At once a picture filled my mind. A lady with soft brown hair sat there as she wrote letter after letter then sealed them. I tried to recall who she was but the block came as it had before when I tried to force a memory.

I called out to Melanie as she passed the door, “Have you seen a red velvet chair?”

She shook her head. “No. There may be some in the tower rooms. Have you been up there?”

“No, and I’m surprised to have forgotten them.” I had meant to explore them, since I had been fascinated at the thought when I first arrived at Angel’s Rest. I decided we would go exploring if she would go with me. Excitement gripped me and I was impatient to get on with it.

Melanie laughed at my hurry to do things as soon as a thought entered my head. “Have you been in the tower rooms?” I asked.

“No,” she said, a perplexed little wrinkle appearing across her brow, “and it’s funny I haven’t, now you mention it. I remember a little about it, but I was so young and have forgotten so much. I know it’s important we go, but I don’t know why I feel it is…oh well, let’s get started.”

I turned at her words and went to the back of the hall. I went straight to the tower door. I had never opened that door or asked where it led. But now I asked myself how I knew this was the door, and what had sent me to it as though I had followed Sadie often in the past. When Melanie entered the room behind me, I wondered if I was psychic. I smiled, sure that if I did not get some answers to the strange vision-like happenings in this house, I could label these feelings psychic also.

“I love the tower rooms,” I said, “I don’t know why I see them as I think they were a long time ago.”

“They are the same, except for the top one,” she said. “Come on, let’s go in there.” I followed her back out into the hall and into another room. This room was circular and had a door opening out onto a balcony. I stood still in the entrance. “I wonder why I’ve never seen it from the house?”

“I checked it out with Sadie one day. She always kept a close watch late evenings because of no lights in the house. There have been none since we learned that it was to be opened again.”

“I want this room for my own as long as I am here,” I said. “I want it for the duration of my stay. I’m pleased to see these heavy bolt locks on the entrance door. I can feel safe in this room. Nothing can get into it unless it has wings, and from the droppings on the floor, I know some winged creatures have visited it. Melie, why were the windows left unscreened and open?”

“I don’t know. Ask Sadie, maybe she can tell you,” she said.

“Let’s go. I want to talk to Sadie.”

I was in a fever to move into it as soon as possible and hurried downstairs to find Martha. She was in the hall and I called out to her. “Martha, could you and Jane let go down here long enough to give the tower room a good cleaning? I’m going into town to pick up drape material and see to having the windows screened.”

I asked Sadie to measure the windows, and she grumbled the whole time, but I paid her no mind. I was going to have that room.

Once the work started, I left for my trip into town. I went by the animal hospital, hoping Bill would have a few minutes for an early lunch. He seemed disappointed, but told me this was his day to vaccinate the town dogs for rabies. He reminded me of our date on Saturday night, and I hurried on to do my shopping.

I had given no thought to grooming facilities, but I knew I would not mind the inconvenience of having to go downstairs for my bath. When I arrived back at Angel’s Rest, however, Sadie surprised me with the good news that the room had a small adjoining bath. I had seen the door, but thought it led to a closet. I didn’t open it because I was sidetracked by the view from the window.

“The bath was installed for Lady Myra,” she said.

“Tell me about the people who lived here,”

“Brock. They were Hewitt, Lady Myra and Angelique Brock. Plain American names.”

“Why do you say Lady Myra?”

“Because she was a lady. A real lady, such as I’ll never see again in my lifetime, or you either,” she said.

The small bath was lovely. The tub was a three-cornered affair and the other fixtures were compact and placed for economy of space.

“I am going to love this apartment. I want to move in without having to wait!”

Sadie answered in her usual dry voice, “I wish you could, too.”

I was surprised. The most I expected of her was a snort of annoyance at what she usually said was another silly notion.