House of Ghosts

tWo

1923, October 24th

"Ma'am you can't sleep here." The sun is bright, but the air is cold. Chills run up and down my arms as I sit up to look at my alarm clock. He's an old man with a bushy beard, grime already slicks his face this early in the morning; at least I think it's morning.

"Mm? Sorry," I murmur, wiping my eyes to see the man better, "Would you mind telling me what time it is?"

"Around seven," the man replies, his voice is gruff, "now I won't leave til I see you're on your way."

"Of course." I sigh and pick up my bag. He stands in the same place and watches me as I walk down the street. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I have to go somewhere. Maybe Nettie isn't busy now, should I go back? Would she be able to help me?

...

I stare up at the grey building I had hoped to never see again. It hasn't even been twelve hours and here I am again. Taking a deep breath, I reenter the building. Mr. Rodney spots me instantly and storms over.

"Mr. Rodney, I am only here for Nettie. Please let me speak with her." I say before he can open his mouth. He stares at me for a solid minute before he nods.

"Wait here." So, I do, as he walks off, hopefully in search for Nettie. Luckily, I don't see anyone I know while I wait. I'm very glad that Mr. Lennon hasn't come back instantly. In a few short minutes Mr. Rodney returns with Nettie.

"I'll be quick," Nettie tells him, "I've about an hour before my next appointment."

Mr. Rodney doesn't say anything, but leaves quickly instead. Nettie leads me back outside and we sit on one of the empty benches facing the buildings across from us. She doesn't say anything and after a second I decide I'm the one who must speak.

"Did you hear what happened?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Nettie looks over me, her light blue eyes seeming to take in every part of me: soul and all. She's not much older than me, but this work makes her look older. She seems tired and weary, but I won't tell her that because it would be rude. Today she has her dark brown hair curled against her forehead, which I think is the prettiest way to style hair.

"Jules, what do you need?"

"Somewhere to stay. Or, if you know someone that would let me rent something. Or, even a job that comes with a room."

Nettie sighs and lights a cigarette. She lets out a puff before speaking again, "I might know someone."

"Really?" I try not to get my hopes up.

"He's a cousin a couple times removed or something, but I know his niece just turned ten and he inherited some big house a couple towns over. I'm sure he could use some help. He may not pay you, might just give you a room in exchange."

"That would be amazing," I grab Nettie's hands, "Oh thank you!"

"Calm down, Jules, It's not final. Let me call him and ask, okay?" She stands and I let her go, "I'll be right back."

I watch as she retreats back into the brothel, my hopes threatening to rise above breathing level. I sincerely hope that her cousin will allow me the room and job. I don't mind if it doesn't pay, I'll find a side job. I just need something to hold me over until I make enough money.

It feels like hours before Nettie comes back, but it's probably only minutes. I can't help the overwhelming hope I feel when I see her. She sits back down next to me and takes my hands in hers, "He said it's alright."

"Oh! Thank you, thank you!" I give her a quick hug, "What's the address?"

"Are you going to walk?" She scoffs.

"No, I'll take a cab."

"You need to shower first."

"Where?"

"Come to my room," She stands and pulls me up, "You can use my shower, then we'll call you a cab."

...

The drive is long and takes about  forty-five minutes; it's silent and nerve wracking. I keep going over what I'm going to say when I see Nettie's cousin, John Doreis, she said his name was. Different last name, but related somewhat anyway.

When the cab pulls up the long winding drive to the house I can barely breathe. It's a large manor on top of a hill, quite far from civilization. A large forest looms behind the house, giving it a strange feeling. Only now am I having second thoughts, but no. I need this.

The cab speeds off as soon as I leave it. No turning back. Striding up to the large front door, I give it a good hard knock. Silence. I start to worry I'm at the wrong house, but then the door swings open to reveal a tall man. He only slightly resembles Nettie in the color of his eyes. Where Nettie's hear is dark brown, this man's hair is as pale as the sun. He also seems to be much older than her, more in his thirties than his twenties; he might be able to be my father.

"You must be Julianna." He says to me, not unkindly.

"Yes, and you are Mr. Doreis?"

"Quite. Do come in, you'll catch a cold." I let myself in and he shuts the door behind him. Instantly my breath is taken from me. A winding staircase is in the center of the entryway, a dark brown and the beauty at first sight. The carpet beneath my feet is a light blue with delicate designs, it seems European.

"Your home is beautiful." I whisper.

"You haven't even seen the majority of it," He laughs, "Follow me. I'll show you to your room and let you get settled. At dinner you'll meet my Beatrice and I'll explain our situation."

"After you, then." I follow him up to the third floor, every hallway we pass is empty of anyone else.

"I hope your travels weren't too awful. I heard you had a far drive."

"No, they were pleasant," It's a lie, but he's already shown so much generosity, I don't want to impose any harsh feelings, "Is the missus Doreis here?"

"Hmm, oh no, she is off at her sisters a state over." He doesn't say anything else about her, or anything else until we reach the top floor. I follow him down the left hallway to the far end where a single window looks out over the forest. 

A single string hangs from the ceiling. He sees me looking at it, "That is the attic. You shouldn't need to go in there, but you'll be in this room. I tidied it up quickly with such short notice, so don't mind if anything looks out of place."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare." He unlocks the door with a silver key and leads me into what will be my room. It's finely decorated with a plush couch and two doors leading into other rooms.

"That door," he points to the first, "will lead to your own private bathroom. The other will lead to your bedroom."

"This is wonderful."

"I'm glad. Supper is at seven, I shall see you then." He turns to go, but I stop him.

"Where is the dining room?"

"Oh," he laughs, "my apologies. Bottom floor, to the right of the front door. If you get lost just call out. We have very thin walls here."

"Thank you." I smile genuinely and he returns it.

"Of course." He nods and sees himself out, shutting the door behind him. For the first time since yesterday I'm alone in a room that is mine. The silence is nice and nostalgic; I really hope this works out for me and that little Beatrice isn't a monster; as children can be. In no time I should be back on my feet and in search of my own home.