Greenbriar Manor

Fran's Discovery

Fran was cleaning the attic on the morning of her birthday. Her son and Ingram were throwing an old baseball around outside with some neighborhood kid. She noticed the kid always came by at dusk and wore the same faded Dodger's hat every day. She had intended to ask after his mother. Even as a housekeeper, she could help sew him some new clothes for the winter or bake a pie or meal or something for another mom down on her luck. He was a friend to her Mickie and Ingrim which was more than most people in this town had been to them. The woman who owned the house and her husband had gone on holiday for the weekend. She was excited to not have anything to worry about but baking a cake and watching the boys. They were easy enough to manage. She pulled out a box of old maps and flower arrangements and behind it all was a metal scooter and a pogo stick to dust off and give new life. Two eager boys would make good use of these she thought. She wondered what her son would give her for her birthday. He usually made a card and picked some flowers. The Greene family did save everything. Their whole lineage could be traced in things in their attics. Carefully marked and kept in plastic. She exhaled slowly remembering her breathing exercises for stress. This house was one of those things that kept giving new and intriguing artifacts the more someone kept digging. Fran was not sure what else it could hold. She brushed against a metal birdcage. It made a tiny squeak and then settled down. She looked around. What on earth possessed her to take a job in a drafty mansion with no lighting? If it was not for the circumstances, she would have never agreed to this sight unseen. But she wanted to give her son a good life with kids and school and quiet afternoons. 

She heard creaking near the eves. Like someone walking up the stairs. She checked for the boys, and she was still alone. They both were outside. She could hear them. Playing and laughing. She should be also it was her birthday after all. When she turned 30, she was just sixteen and riding around with her aunt and cousin making plans to set out somewhere. Had it been over a decade since she had seen them? Would they even know who she was anymore or believe she had a son? The thought put her off. She thought of the last birthday she had spent in a house like this and the slimy feeling of almond icing on her finger. 

She got nauseated all of a sudden. Likely from dragging up dust in the unventilated space. She got a cool chill down one arm. Then the other as a tiny music box began playing in the box in the corner. She pulled it out and inspected it. She could not believe her eyes. A ballerina with a dented pink slipper tinkle tinkled off key and then stopped. How? She thought of that rummage sale where her aunt gave most everything for free. Maybe one of the kids had bought one from the same catalog as their grandma. She shuddered at how similar it looked to the one from the house so long ago. She closed the box and stopped looking for things to sell, wash and repurpose. Enough ghosts had been found today. She closed the attic door and walked into the kitchen. Mickie was standing there covered in paint.  Blue paint the color of summer sky. "What on Earth have you been into?" She gasped and then started laughing. He looked like an alien or some kind of little woodland sprite. Ingram had blue hands. She knew whatever they had done after coming in must be for her birthday. She had them wash the paint off and Mickie take a bath. She made ham on rye sandwiches and milk for lunch and then asked them a little about their friend Dodger. Mickie corrected her, "Ma, his name is Brooklyn" "Oh, right?" she responded warily. She asked how old he was and where he lived. Ingram pointed through a thicket into the large clearing past the forest. When he asked for an age they both shrugged. I guess it did not matter to them as long as they had fun. She really would like to know him and his mother. But the child never stayed beyond lunch or supper hours. His mom probably got anxious. 

She wondered what in the world he could have painted or where they were keeping it and so she requested for them to take her to the surprise. They walked her out into the back yard and down a hill into a clearing. On a large tarp sat something wooden. It looked like an old desk. She knew how much Mattie had heard her talking about one. Maybe they had found one in the barn or cellar. It looked sturdy enough. As she walked toward it she started to feel a strange sense of dread and De ja vu. Like she had seen it before. The paint was dry and there was a dent in the drawer but it would do. She would need to locate a chair because the one they had found looked like a great rusty bar chair with feathers sticking out of it on the seat. It was almost laughable really how hard they had tried to cheer her up. She would have to show the Missus when she came back from holiday how kind her son had been to an old housemaid. She ran her hands along the desk. She smiled and thanked the boys for giving her such a treasure and told them she would put it in her room to be used straight away. As she spoke, a stray splinter stuck into her thumb. Blood made her woozy. She sat on that old chair and then grasped the desk for support. She felt a tiny indention in the top of the desk like a saucer had been sitting there for a very long time. Her blood ran cold. Surely not. This was another homestead. A different state. She had not seen any of her people in ages. This was another one of those dreams she had on the medication sometimes.  She would wake up soon. It was her birthday, and she had a son and a flower bouquet waiting.  They lived in a house owned by lovely people. Where there were no more attics and tables and birds from her past. She ran her finger under the edge of the table and felt a V carefully carved into the drawer face. She put both hands over her mouth and screamed silently. This was the vanity from Grandma Vera's home. The one with the green cakes. 

She noticed the boy off to the side of the thicket watching...he had to have helped them surprise her. They thought she was squealing with joy. He stood clapping and smiling elated to have helped his friends. She waved and tried to smile. She realized for a moment that the Dodgers insignia was older than the one they currently used. She had seen that one when she was about Mickie's age. Must be his dad's hat she thought. Poor kid. She thanked him for helping and playing with her son and told him to bring his mother for tea. The words came off her lips before she could stop them, and she started crying. The boy turned around and told her she was too tired for tea and cake anyway and he would come back in the morning. He told her that he would tell his mother she said kind words. How could the boys have known? What had happened to the other teacups and metal charger and how on Earth did she manage to be given the one item in all of Heaven and Hell she would rather burn on sight than own? What could she do but put it in her room and use it? Her son had fixed it. She covered it with the tarp and walked into the house. The second she entered the lobby Mickie was holding the music box and singing a broken off-key version of "Happy Birthday".  Ingram had icing all over his fingers. She knew it had not cooled off enough. Crafty little taste-testers they were too. She rounded the corner to find the cake fully iced. Melting vanilla icing slid off one side but they had tried their best to ice it and write out a message. She smiled and hugged them. She cut into the warm chocolate cake and thought of that boy walking down into the forest alone. She wished he had stayed longer. Who knew how long he had gone without a birthday cake with his mother. She cut three pieces of cake, and they sat down to eat them. They played Go Fish and read books from the library and listened to old silly records about bowling and a man who loved onions. She put the boys to bed a half hour early and then retired to her own to read. As she rounded the corner in her room, she could feel a cold gust of air over her arm again. A tiny giggle.... She took one of her tonics and laid down. When she went to sleep, she saw a little girl smashing a tiny blue teacup on the table in front of her birthday cake. Her eyes full of rage. 

She woke up at first light covered in sweat and gasping. The window was open, and it was raining. she grabbed a duvet cover and sopped up the water.  The boys were sound asleep in the trundle bed next to hers where they had fallen asleep after all the cake and catch caught up to them. The house was quiet as always. The hallway was dark but even in the dark she could see the vanity desk was inside the front lobby. Jake likely had brought it in out of the deluge early that morning when they had returned for work. She gulped as her employer walked into the house to see her standing in a housecoat wet from rainwater up to her ankles and a bewildered look on her face. She hoped she would not be asked to leave right then. But they just smiled sleepily and told her to get some more rest. The boys were carried to their own rooms. She closed the door and behind it was a tiny piece of paper with pretty handwriting. Maybe it was a birthday card or note from the Missus from her trip. She picked it up and turned it over...it said "Welcome to Greenbriar Manor. We would like to cordially invite you to Bridgett's first piano recital" She dropped the paper and ran to the bed. Covering her head with the sheet. Surely this was all still a dream. What could it mean to be living in Bridgette's house and with Mattie too? Why was there no record of her in the albums surely, she was important? She had to look again tomorrow or ask some questions. She felt herself fall into a somewhat peaceful rest but no dreams would come.