June 1st
I hoped for a good story to share today, and my new home didn't disappoint! As soon as Michael got here on Wednesday morning we grabbed our list items and food and ran for the root cellar.
We propped the shelving unit open and placed an old brick in the doorframe to keep from being stuck in the passageway should the door close with us on the other side. We tied the beginning of a spool of white kite string to the door handle leading into the root cellar, and then unwound as we went. It did the trick perfectly, as it was a bright white, and the spool allowed us to unspool with no effort at all. I even brought a backup spool.
About ten yards into the tunnel - and a fine tunnel it was, with stone walls and ceiling, no less - we came to a heavy, locked wooden door. Some of the wood was broken or rotted away in spots, and the air beyond was cool, but not as cool as the air in the tunnel. None of the holes was big enough to get our flashlights and eyes through, so I turned on the flash of the camera and took a picture through the largest hole.
What appeared on the screen was confusing. Michael and I stared for a moment or two, both of us doing mental calculations to determine where we'd be in relation to the rest of the house. It didn't make any sense. What should have been showing on the little screen was a collection spot for ashes from the fireplaces above us. What we saw defied logic.
"Stairs," we finally whispered at the same time.
Apparently the large chimneystack on the outside of the house was for more than just multiple flues. A small set of spiral stairs sat rusting and covered in dust and debris inside the bricks. More secrets!
I tried to think of anything on the fireplaces on the first and second floors that could indicate a switch to open a secret door, but couldn't think of anything. I had cleaned and painted the mantles and noticed nothing out of the ordinary.
The urge to run upstairs and get my set of keys was strong, but instead I made a note in the notebook and we continued on, deeper into the tunnel.
Tucked in little alcoves along the walls were dust-covered glass bottles and jars of what had once been preserved food. I pulled the stopper off one of the bottles only to hold it instantly at arm's length at the sting of liquor vapors. Michael was amused and said there had been rumors of bootlegging during prohibition, but no one had ever been able to find solid evidence - until now, of course.
After about 500 yards we came to an open area with tunnels branching off the main tunnel. There were three branches in total. We chose the left-most tunnel and continued on our way, eventually switching to the spare spool of kite string when our first one ran out. We didn't have far to go before we reached another fork in the tunnel. One branch went on for what looked like about 20 feet before ending in another wooden door. The other branch seemed to go back toward the center branch off the original fork.
We decided to see if the door at the end of the left-most branch was unlocked.... and it was!
We climbed the rusty spiral staircase upward until we saw daylight filtering down. Up and up and up, until we eventually came into a perfectly circular room with plaster walls. Grimy windows were set far back in the walls, as if shielding them from being seen by anyone from outside. A narrow set of French doors was located off to one side of the room, the rest of the round walls contained thick carved stone pillars and windows. The room was bright, and with the way the windows were arranged, the room would get plenty of light throughout the day.
Michael walked over to the French doors and opened them, then let out a strange gasp.
"We're in Rapunzel's Tower!" he told me.
