Etc.

Ms. Mark's Boarding House (a short story)

I once lived in a boardinghouse. The location I've entirely forgotten as that was some time ago.  I don't remember much about it but one memory is as fresh in my mind as my first name: there was a story behind it.  A story filled with so much tragedy and drama it seemed like something from a book.  It wasn't until Lana Drake (another tenant of the boardinghouse who had been there since Ms. Marks had first put an ad in the paper) invited me over for brunch when I learned the whole story. 

     It was a lovely Sunday morning when I knocked on Lana's door.  I met her in the dining room the night before when she invited me over for brunch.  When she opened the door I was greeted by a woman in her mid-twenties with the brightest blue eyes that reminded me of the Caribbean.  Her long, curly blonde hair swished from side to side as I followed her into the kitchen where she had some donuts, coffee cake, small egg quiches, raspberry pastries and some coffee waiting on a table.  

     "I hope I didn't put you to any trouble,"  I said as I took a better look at everything she prepared.

     "Don't give it a second thought.  I love having company over and I need to practice my cooking.  I'm getting married soon and I don't want to be like those women who learn as they go along."

     "I completely agree."  I poured myself a cup of coffee from her kettle and took a small 

quiche. "If I may ask, how long have you lived here?"                                                                        

     "Years.  I was Ms. Marks first tenant.  Well, my parents were.  I was just a little girl when we moved in.  When I turned eighteen my parents decided to move away from the noise and I stayed here." 

     "There seems to be an awful lot of pictures of different people and strange things downstairs.  Do you know anything about that?"  I asked.  It was an odd question but I was trying to start conversation.

     "You mean you haven't heard the story yet?"

     "Story?  No, I haven't yet," I said.

     "The house was built by Ms. Marks' wealthy father, Albert White, in the 1900's.  If you look carefully on the cabinet downstairs in the main room there are a few pictures of it.  Ms. Marks, her father, mother and sister, Julianne, lived here for thirteen or fourteen years until Mr. White was called away to fight in the war and was later killed.  At that point the house was turned into a hospital for wounded soldiers.  Terrible things happened here.  Ms. Marks told me that her and Julianne were almost killed by a stray bullet.  Julianne fell in love with a soldier who was recovering in the make-shift hospital.  They tried to runaway to be married, but were caught soon after.  He was shot for desertion and she died sometime thereafter.  The exact cause of death is unknown.  Ms. Marks and her mother survived the war.  Her mother lived ten years after until she fell sick of tuberculosis and passed away shortly after.  Ms. Marks was only nineteen.  Of course the house, all the money and everything else went to her as she was the only surviving member of the family.  Unfortunately the financial strain of the war left her with          

nothing.  The house was war-torn, the money was gone and she had nowhere to go.  A distant relative took her in.  That is where she met Arthur Jones.                                                          

     Every woman in the town wanted to meet him on account of his wealth.  The town held a party in his honor which she attended.  One look at her and he fell head over heels in love.  Unfortunately she didn't love him in return. In fact, she couldn't stand him.  He had a temper the size of Russia and when he got started on something he couldn't stop.  That didn't affect his flow of money however.  No one knew how or where the money came from.  In those days, there were rumors that he robbed banks or that he owned the biggest gold mine in the world, but like I said, no one knew the truth.  

    He pursued Ms. Marks relentlessly to no avail until one day things changed.  The house she was living in caught fire and burned down.  She, once again, was left homeless. With nowhere to turn, she gave in and became his wife.  They were married and went to all the fabulous spots: Niagara Falls, England, Italy and Rome.  They might as well have toured the world.   When they returned, they had a legendary fight.  Over what, no one knows.  They got divorced several months later.  When she left, the alimony was such a large amount, she was able to purchase a lovely place to live, several housekeepers and a butler to take care of her.  At twenty-six, only a year after her divorce, she fell in love with the butler, Edward Marks.  How handsome he was.  Ms. Marks has a few pictures of him sitting on her vanity.  They eloped and had three kids: Daisy, Jay, and Tom.  Her dream was to raise her children in the house she grew up in.   They found the house abandoned and poured so much love into making it what she remembered.  

     After thirty years of happiness, he passed away unexpectedly.  Ms. Marks thought she would die of a broken heart. But then time heals all wounds and it healed hers too.  Twenty years ago, Ms. Marks converted it into a boardinghouse to keep herself from being lonely.  And here we are now."  

     "That's a lovely story.  I had no idea Ms. Marks went through so much."

     "Not a lot of people here do."

     I went home thinking about it;  thinking how fascinating it all was.  We can look at the outside without ever knowing the inside.