Dancing in the Oaks

Beginning to Crack the Code

Upon arriving home, I noticed the smell of cinnamon. The house was very clean and well organized. The night before the whole incident took place it did not smell anything like cinnamon. Someone had lit the cinnamon candle in the center of the counter. Every pillow was perfectly straight and every item was dust free. Nick walked in and helped me with the crutches. He discovered that I was able to do it independently. Ever since I was young, I have been quite a fast learner. I am just an intellectual person.

The sun shone directly through the windows on all ends of the farmhouse. The farmhouse is a 2,100 square foot house that has 4 bedrooms. There is enough for my family to have their own rooms. There is blue and white paint that covers the outside of the house. On the inside, it's more of a beige paint. The color of my room is a gray color. It almost reminds me of the color of the oak wood. That is why I chose that color when we repainted the house. The wood floors remind me of the color ebony and sand dollar. Each piece of wood displays a perfect grain. One of the many things about wood that intrigues me is the grain patterns. No two pieces are the same.

I finally turned the corner and hobbled into my bedroom. It took me triple the time to walk. My room was so clean. Nothing was on the floors or on the shelves. It was quiet, almost a little too quiet. I walked into my brother's room. Harlem's room was a little bit down the hallway closer to the bathroom. Jake's room is adjacent to Harlem's. The master bedroom is on the top floor of the farmhouse. The house was too quiet because my brothers were not fighting about who gets to do chores. My mother was not stomping across the hardwood floor running to help my father. He was in pretty bad shape because of the car accident. There were no newspapers on the counter that my father read in what he called his 'morning studies.' Harlem and Jake were not there to beg me to do their chores and lying stating that they would pay me later. That never happened. Harlem wasn't around to talk about his crush or how he wants to go to the NFR. He never even rode horses but he wanted to go NFR. The atmosphere was different. The silence pierced my ears.

I could hear Nick walking around outside in the kitchen. I hobbled my way back to the kitchen. "How we gonna figure this out?" He asked.

"I dunno. We gotta do somethin'." I sat up on the bar stool. My father had made them from 6 old tractor seats from the 1040s. They are really nice and surprisingly comfortable to sit on. "We gotta write this all out because I'm not able to remember anything. I'll go get a piece of paper. We only got butcher paper though."

He pulled out a pen from the jar on top of the fridge. "I'll go get the paper, where is it? You stay up here."

I already knew what would have to happen: going down to the basement. "It's actually down in the basement. It's gonna be in the right corner. I'll come with you. I don't want you going down there alone. There is something just too scary about the basement." I stood up and hobbled over to the stairs.

Nick gave a confused look. "You sure do learn fast. Does your foot hurt though? It would take me about a week before finally understanding how to use the crutches." He placed his hat on the counter and walked over to me. He was surprised how fast I learned, but I wasn't. If ya grow up that way, then it stays that way.

"Yeah it's all good. Do you know where in this house the Merchants died?" I just had to find out.

We headed down the stairs. I just scooted while sitting down. "They died in the basement. Both of them." He looked back at me differently. Never have I seen him give me a worried look like that. The look was almost soul piercing. I could feel the emotions. He opened the door to the basement entrance. A cold breeze overtook the air. I finally reached the bottom of the stairs. There are precisely 20 stairs that lead down to the basement. Nick helped me up as it is quite a drop at the bottom stair.

"Ugh," I groaned. "Thanks." We walked into the main section of the basement. My father keeps all of his woodworking stuff down there. There's only two lights that illuminate the path, as the basement is not finished. It looks like walking into a haunted house due to all of the cobwebs. My family and I have never liked traveling down to the basement due to various reasons. The lights flickered when they turned on.

"This corner?" He pointed to the round spool in the western corner.

"Yeah that looks like it. It's uh.. brown I think. Last time we used it was when we butchered our cow. We hadn't had a cow since. I was too heartbroken." A cool breeze touched my arms and face. My heartbeat increased. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced before.

I just stood there while Nick ventured in. He picked up the brown, round tube. It was not what we were looking for: butcher paper. "This isn't it." The tube was from my father's barn project a long time ago. It is so annoying how my father just stacked stuff up down there.

"Well, now I don't know where my dad put it." The cool breeze increased even more. I began to feel uneasy. I didn't want to tell Nick, but he noticed.

"I'm coming back over this mess. I found you something though." He struggled to make his way back. "Where's another place to look?"

"I'm sorry. I rarely come down here, so it rarely gets cleaned. I don't even know what's down here. I'll show you the way to the next place where it could be." He walked closer to me as I just stood there. I felt a small tug on the back of my shirt. The air turned warm and then turned cold within a small second. It was as if it was snowing and the cold, icy breeze touched your face buried under a warm jacket. He pulled something out of his pocket. He had found my mother's stash of felt flowers that she used for her barnyard parties. He gave me the felt sunflower. I turned around and had him pin it in my hair. I could not believe how gentle he was when he pinned it in my hair. I need to focus on solving this stupid mystery, not some cowboy that I barely even know. I smiled at him and hobbled to the more western part of the basement. "It's not here. Ugh where did you put it at, dad?" I mumbled. "Nick I don't feel good, hold on."

"No, what's wrong?" He asked quietly.

"I just got nauseous again. It's alright. Now we need to go over to the easterly side of the house. There's a food storage room. Follow me alright?" I started to question the whole situation. I had never gotten this dizzy this quickly. It was like rapid successions of wanting to throw up and pass out.

"Yeah I'll follow you. Just take your time." I could hear his cowboy  boots clacking against the cement floor. That is how I could tell that he was right behind me. It was nice not having to turn back around to see where he was. 

I got halfway across the room before my crutches caught on a box. This darn basement is so unorganized. I had almost fallen when Nick caught me from meeting my demise. I felt a pair of strong arms catch me around my middle torso and under my arm. I caught my breath as I figured out what had just happened. My cheeks flushed pink. He let go once he made sure I could stand myself. "Ugh this is so annoying. I have to thank you once again."  I kept hobbling in pain until we reached the destination.

"You alright?" He helped me across the trail in between the wall and the workshop. My father made half of the basement into a wood shop. There was only a small walkway that connected the cold storage room to the hallway adjacent to the workshop.

"Yeah I'll be okay. Alright, now, it should be in the corner. For sure this time. After I get better I'm gonna clean this all up. How did the Merchants die in the basement?" After I asked that question the room immediately filled with an empty feeling.

Nicholas walked over to the corner to check it out. "Ooh, did you just feel that? It just got cold."

It was a bone chilling cold, unlike anything I have experienced before. "Yes, I'm fully aware. I'm gonna come over to you." As I got closer it got colder.

"They Uh died down here because they were weak. They had cancer, well, one did. The other one, Mrs. Merchant, died of heartbreak. They both weren't physically able to do much. I'm not sure, that's just what I heard." He retrieved the butcher paper roll from the corner finally. "Found it!"

"Jeez, finally. Amazing, that's exactly what we need." I was elated so we could finally get out of the basement. It still irritates me how badly the basement is. That was my father's space for tools. The other half was for my mother's craft stuff. It just drives me crazy.

Nick tore off a piece and put the roll back where it was. "Alright, let's go upstairs now." I crawled up the stairs so my foot didn't have any pressure on it. Nick followed me up and carried my crutches.