LeAnn woke up to the sound of rain on her bedroom windows and thunder in the distance. She looked at her alarm clock and saw it was quarter to nine. Her head flopped back on the pillow and she moaned, “I’m so tired.”
Another clap of thunder sounded, and she realized the storm was getting closer. “I guess I won’t be going down to the boathouse today.” She had hoped to go down to check it out and see what kind of clean-up it would need. She knew it would be too damp and cold in there with it raining outside.
“I guess I’ll tackle the attic instead. Don’t know what I’ll find up there; maybe just a lot of dirt.” Giggling she closed her eyes and listened to the rain on the roof. What a comforting sound. She wanted to go back to sleep, but as if to respond to her thoughts, a loud clap of thunder boomed outside.
“I’m up, I’m up!” Moaning, she rolled out of bed, slipped her slippers on, and walked over to the window. It was pouring rain. She saw her boat and remembered she had left it out because she was going to clean the boathouse today.
She groaned, “I guess that’ll teach me to trust the weather reports!” She glanced at the boathouse again and an eerie chill came over her. She recalled what she thought she had seen during the night. “Did I see a light on the boathouse walkway? Was it really the moon?” She couldn’t take her eyes off the boathouse, as if waiting to see something…but what?
“Okay, LeAnn,” she scolded. Let’s not get caught up in old stories of haunted houses and boathouses! That’s all I need is to spook myself!”
She brushed her teeth, washed her face then brushed her long dark hair and pulled it in a ponytail. There was a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt on the chair in the bathroom that she had worn cleaning the day before. She figured they probably weren’t too dirty to put back on since the attic was probably filthy. Coffee was what she needed to help wake her up. She went downstairs to make some, and maybe a couple slices of toast. Clicking on the TV, she hoped the local station would give an update on what the weather was going to do. Not that she was going to believe them. “It was suppose to be partly cloudy today!” she scolded the weatherman on the screen.
When she finished her toast and coffee, she turned off the TV, having learned that it was going to rain all day. She headed for the kitchen to put her dirty dishes in the dishwasher. After grabbing the broom, paper towels, glass cleaner, flashlight, she also decided to take the bug spray. “Well, you never know, there could be creepy crawly things up there.” she told herself, she headed for the attic.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor and put all of the items on the hall table. The locked attic door in the ceiling had a ring she would have to pull to open the trap door. The trapdoor in the ceiling had a ring she would have to pull to open it. But first she would need to unlock the door. The realtor had given her the key. LeAnn remembered the realtor saying no one had been up in the attic since the owners had moved out. The realtor added that she hadn’t even known there was an attic until the attorney had given her the key just before the closing. There had been renters off and on, but no one had ever been given the attic key. After a few years of renters destroying parts of the house and grounds, the daughter of Ephraim Tabor had decided the house was better off empty.
Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to reach the lock, LeAnn ran back to the kitchen to get the step stool. Climbing the step stool, she took the key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Slowly, and carefully, she pulled the ring. The door creaked downward and LeAnn had to move the stool over a little so she wouldn’t be hit in the face by the trapdoor. A strong, unpleasant musty smell greeted her as the door opened. It made her wince and hold her nose.
“Oh, gross! What a horrible smell! Maybe I should air it out a little before I go up.” No, she knew her curiosity was going to get the better of her and she would go up.
There was a rope that she slowly pulled, causing the stairs to slide downward out of the attic. It was more of a ladder than stairs, and it came down at an angle. She moved the step stool and pulled the ladder the rest of the way down. After turning on the flashlight, she climbed up. It wasn’t as dark as she thought it would be, because of the two large windows. The windows were on the side of the house, so LeAnn hadn’t seen them when she had looked at the house from the front. She guessed they were about six feet tall and six-and-half feet wide, and they had incredible views.
LeAnn kept her flashlight on as she waited for her eyes to grow accustomed to the light the windows let in. It only took a few seconds until she was able to see she was standing in one large room with lots of dust and cobwebs. She took the broom and swept some of the webs out of her way and carefully walked over to the first filthy window. Using the glass cleaner, and a lot of paper towels, she cleaned off years of dust and dirt. She was amazed at how much light came in after the window was clean. She hurriedly went over to clean the other window.
“Wow, my mother would be proud!” A pang hit her as she mentioned her mother. LeAnn shook off the feeling quickly.
To the right she found many boxes, a couple of rolled up rugs and a seamstress-dummy lying on its side. To the left were old wooden chairs, several large wall frames, and a broken table braced against the wall. One of the legs was off so the table was lopsided on its remaining three legs. LeAnn wasn’t sure if the broken leg was around, but she hoped she could find it so the table could be fixed. It would look great in the dining room, she thought. In front of her were old news-papers tied and stacked, a brass bed frame, two old trunks, and a blanket covering what she hoped might be a floor mirror.
Walking over to the blanket, she grabbed it and pulled it off. She choked and coughed as the dust filled the air. Behind the blanket was indeed a beautifully carved mahogany floor mirror. Her hands caressed the intricate carvings of flowers that were all around the mirror, roses. She thought, It’s carved just like the fireplace mantle. At the top center initials were carved in script: AT. The mirror was not broken or cracked. In fact, it was in wonderful shape, and LeAnn knew she had to have it in her room. Maybe she could get Matt to help her get it down out of the attic or give her the name of a handyman who would.
LeAnn walked over to the two trunks. She took the paper towels and wiped off the first trunk. It was not locked and the lid lifted easily. The first thing she saw was heavy tissue paper. Lifting the paper, she gasped. There under the tissue paper was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. Afraid to touch the gown, she noticed it had yellowed a little over the years, but she could see it had once been white and had pearls scattered all over. The dress had a satin under dress and the top was chiffon. It had thin pearl spaghetti straps with a scoop neckline with pearl trim. Slowly and gently she lifted the dress partway out of the trunk, as if it would fall apart in her hands.
“This had to be Mr. Tabor’s daughter’s special ball dress for her presentation,” LeAnn said in awe. She could see there were more things in the trunk, but the attic was just too dirty to take anything else out. She gently put the dress back inside the trunk, replaced the tissue paper and closed the lid.
“First things first. I have to clean this place up before I start bringing out whatever is in the trunks, especially beautiful gowns!”
Her attention was drawn to the stack of newspapers next to the trunks. She went over and untied the first bundle. Her mouth fell open when she saw the headlines of the first one dated June 23, 1942. “TRAGEDY AT TABOR’S BALL”. The next one read “MURDER ON THE ISLAND”. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The next paper, “MAN DIES KILLED, BY TABOR!”
“Ephraim Tabor killed someone?” LeAnn could not believe her eyes. “I knew this island had a story, but never did I imagine this! I’ll bet Dad didn’t even know. Or did he?”
The thunder was over the house now, and the rain was falling harder than before. LeAnn decided she would take a few of the newspapers downstairs where the light was better and read them. She had to know what this was all about. Her new home had a secret all right, and she wanted to know what it was!
She wiped off the newspapers, took a few from the stack and then carefully climbed back down the ladder. She decided that she did not want the ladder down, so she raised it up. After hesitating for just a second, she locked the attic door.
“Why are you locking the door? What do you think is up there?” She really did need to stop talking to herself.
Looking at the newspapers in her hands, she proceeded down the stairs to the living room.
“I think I’ll get a diet soda before I start reading these. I have a feeling I’m going to be reading awhile.”
She placed the newspapers on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen. Grabbing the diet soda from the refrigerator, she noticed the cheese and ham and decided to make a sandwich. She made her sandwich quickly, excited to start reading the newspapers.
Her drink and sandwich in hand, she returned to the living room. She stared down at the newspapers on the table and slowly sat down on the couch. She took a long sip of her drink, a bite of her sandwich, and picked up the first newspaper with the headline “Tragedy At Tabor’s Ball” dated June 23, 1942. She read, “Last night at the annual Tabor Summer Ball, a man by the name of Jonathan Armstrong was shot and killed. The suspect is the host, Ephraim Tabor. There were no witnesses to the shooting, but some have reported to the police that Tabor was overheard threatening Armstrong earlier in the evening.”
“I don’t believe it! The owner of this island and this house killed someone?” LeAnn kept shaking her head in disbelief. Reading the article further, LeAnn saw the newspaper reported that Mr. Tabor was being held in jail on suspicion of murder, but would probably be released because there were no eye witnesses and no weapon was recovered.
LeAnn wondered, “Who in the world was Jonathan Armstrong, and why would Mr. Tabor threaten him? Better yet, why would he shoot him?”
The other newspapers said basically the same thing except one hinted that Ephraim Tabor was upset because he saw Armstrong with his daughter, Amelia Tabor. The article went on to say that Mr. Armstrong was a married man and that his wife, Phoebe Armstrong, was crippled. She had been paralyzed in an accident following the Tabor Summer Ball two years earlier. The article went on to say Phoebe Armstrong was confined to a wheelchair, and had not accompanied her husband to the ball.
“This is incredible! I have to find out more about this.” LeAnn decided she would go back up to the attic to see what the rest of the newspapers said. She left her half-eaten sandwich and drink on the coffee table and all but ran for the attic.
She reached up for the ring to the attic door and pulled. “Damn it, why did I lock this thing?” She reached in her pockets to find where she had put the key. Finding it, she climbed the step stool and unlocked the attic door, again. “What a hassle. I really need to leave this thing unlocked.” She opened the door, and once again the musty odor made her wince. “I definitely have to air this room out. It stinks!”
When she was back in the attic, she grabbed the broom and swept an area around the newspapers to sit. I’m just going to read them here, she thought, as she wiped off the newspapers with paper towels. She was too excited to waste anymore time carrying them up and down the ladder.
Sitting on the floor in front of the remaining papers, she picked up the top one and noticed the date, June 29, 1942. The headline read, “TABOR RELEASED”. The article stated, “Ephraim Tabor, a successful architect, was released yesterday due to lack of evidence in the shooting death of Jonathan Armstrong. The police chief told reporters, “Mr. Tabor is no longer a suspect. There is no evidence or weapon to justify continuing to hold Mr. Tabor. There are several witnesses who have reported he was with his guests watching the fireworks at the time of the shooting. We are still looking for the killer and the gun. We will not stop until we have found both.”
The rest of the article went on to talk about Mr. Tabor and his accomplishments. It related how he and his wife, now deceased, had built the house on the island. The story continued to describe how Tabor had remodeled of the boathouse turning the top floor into a ballroom for the famous summer balls. The article continued by stating, “The funeral for Mr. Jonathan Armstrong will be a private service for immediate family only. He is survived by his wife, Phoebe Armstrong, who is the daughter of Charles S. Carver. Mr. Carver is a prominent president and owner of the Minneapolis Capital Bank.”
LeAnn reached for the other newspapers, all reported the same thing. The newspaper dated November 23, 1942 had a subheading: “Widow Offers Reward”. The article that followed was only a couple of paragraphs retelling the shooting story and stating Phoebe wanted her husband’s killer brought to justice. She was offering one-hundred thousand dollars to anyone with information that would lead to an arrest and conviction.
“Wow, one-hundred thousand dollars in 1942, that was a lot of money!” LeAnn exclaimed out loud.
The rest of the newspapers had nothing new in them. The last newspaper was dated March 1943. On the society page was a picture of Ephraim Tabor and his daughter Amelia at one of their balls. The article reported that because of the shooting at their summer ball the previous year, Mr. Tabor and his daughter had decided it was best not to continue the summer balls.
LeAnn put down the newspaper and stared at the trunk she hadn’t looked in. “I wonder what I will find in there.”
The storm was letting up, and the thunder had stopped. Slowly she stood up and stretched her back. She figured she had been sitting on the floor for at least an hour, and her right leg had fallen asleep. A pins and needles sensation went up and down her leg. Limping over to the window, she looked out. It was still raining but the wind seemed to have died down a little. She turned around and looked at the trunks again.
“Can I wait, or should I just give in to myself?” It was amazing the things she had started to learn about the family who had lived here. “I wonder if Amelia is still alive. Heck, I wonder if Phoebe Armstrong is still alive. What really happened that night?”
Slowly she walked back to the trunks. Her right leg was still feeling a little achy, but she was able to walk this time with no limp.
Staring at the second trunk for a minute, she finally shrugged, “Oh, to heck with it!” She reached for the roll of paper towels. She cleaned the cobwebs off and opened the trunk.
It contained stacks of pictures, ledgers, notes, even what looked like drawings of buildings. She reached in carefully and picked up a few of the pictures. There was one of a young man and woman in wedding garments. Luckily, someone and noted on the back: “Ephraim and Cynthia’s wedding”. Ephraim was quite handsome in a dark suit, and he had dark hair and a mustache. The bride looked very young and elegant in her gown of lace. She wore a veil that was extremely long and had been wrapped around to the front of the dress for the picture. The dress was a traditional wedding gown of the 1920’s, and the bride carried a bouquet that looked like roses and peonies.
LeAnn could see a strong resemblance between mother and daughter. Amelia’s hair was the same color as her mother’s, from what LeAnn could tell from the black and white photo. Her fine facial features were definitely her mother’s, but LeAnn saw that she was taller than her mother; therefore Amelia took after her father in height.
Skimming through a few more pictures, LeAnn found Amelia’s baby pictures and family picnic pictures. They looked like a normal, fun loving family. Many pictures were of the lake, including different family members holding up stringers of fish they had caught. “Yum, walleye, LeAnn commented. “Best fish you can eat.” It was starting to get darker in the attic, and reluctantly, LeAnn put the pictures aside. “I think I’d better go downstairs now and come back up tomorrow. I really hate to stop, but it’s getting harder to see. Should I take some of these downstairs with me? Oh, why not. I really need to know more about who lived here, their life, and more important, what happened in 1942!”
She gathered up more of the pictures and took them down the attic ladder. This time she did not close the attic door.
The rain was letting up, and she could swear that there was a patch of blue in the sky in the distance. She glanced at the hall clock on the wall, which said 4:40. “Man, my days are sure getting away from me! Oh well, I don’t have a schedule to keep, but at this rate, I’m never going to get stuff done!” She went down to the living room.
She looked at the photos in her hand and put them on the coffee table in the living room, next to the newspapers. She just stood there staring. “I really wish you pictures could talk. I’ve got so many questions.”
She wasn’t’ really hungry but she went into the kitchen anyway.
“Maybe I just need a break from all this for awhile.” She opened the refrigerator and reached for the bottle of wine she had opened the night before. She took a wineglass from the hutch and carried both the bottle and glass into the living room. She poured a glass and sat back on the coach. Sipping the wine, she stared at the photos, not able to pick them up again.
Her cell phone rang. She jumped from the sound and her heart started to race. “Oh, my God! That scared the crap out of me!” She hurried and found her phone on the entry table in her purse, “Hello? Hello?”
“LeAnn? Are you okay? You sound funny.” It was Matt.
“Oh, Matt. No, I’m fine. The phone just scared me, that’s all. Plus I couldn’t find where I had left it. How are you?” she said, sounding calmer.
“I’m good, thanks. Hey, listen, I know it’s short notice, but would you like to get together for dinner tomorrow? I’d love to bring you to the resort tonight, but it looks like the rain’s going to start up again.”
“Dinner? I would love to. I’m getting a little lonely out here.”
“Great! So, I’ll pick you up at six. Okay?”
“You’re going to pick me up?” LeAnn said with a laugh.
“Yes, I am. When was the last time you were picked up for a date in a boat?” Matt laughed too.
“This will be my first, and I’m looking forward to it.”
He could hear the smile in her voice. He could also hear the relief. At the same time, he wondered, is she really all right out there alone?
“I’ll see you at six o’clock, and Matt?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. I really am looking forward to seeing you again, and…” she hesitated, “And… oh, never mind,
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“LeAnn, are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to come out tonight?” LeAnn could hear the concern in his voice.
“Heavens, no!” she exclaimed. “I’m just fine. I’ve been cleaning all day, and I’m just tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay, if you’re sure” he said. He didn’t believe her.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said, trying to sound convincing.
“All right, six o’clock it is. Bye”
“Bye” she hung up, glad he had called. Lonely, she decided to call her brother. Sitting back down on the couch, she clicked onto Adam’s number in her contact list. The phone rang, but then his voice mail came on. She started to close her phone and not leave a message, but she thought her brother would worry.
“Hey Adam, it’s just me. Haven’t talked to you for awhile, so I thought I’d check in and see what you’re up to. You’re probably on some hot date or something. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you!” She hung up.
Her attention went back to the pictures. She wanted to know about the family who had lived in her new home and on this island. She picked up a small stack and went through them one by one. Some had people’s names and dates on the back while others did not. Then she came to a picture of Amelia on her father’s arm. How beautiful she looked, LeAnn thought, but… wait a minute. The gown she was wearing was not the one in the trunk, but that didn’t mean anything. LeAnn realized she had just jumped to the conclusion that the dress she found was Amelia’s presentation gown. “Besides, I haven’t gone through the whole trunk yet. I only saw the first gown. Who knows what other dresses are in there.” LeAnn knew one thing; she was not going back up there tonight. In fact, she needed go close the attic door before going to bed.
Turning the picture over, LeAnn saw that it read, “Amelia’s presentation 1940.” LeAnn stared at the picture again. She looked at the beautiful young woman again, “I do wonder if she is still alive. Maybe Matt knows. I’ll ask tomorrow night.”
Boom! The clap of thunder made her jump as she continued to look through the pictures. She turned toward the window and saw it was raining again and getting dark.
Yawning, she leaned back on the couch, “I’ve had enough. No more pictures or newspapers tonight.” She set them aside and switched on the TV. The nine o’clock news was on. “Good, I made it for the weather, so I can see when this rain is going to stop.”
The meteorologist reported the weather for Friday was supposed to be sunny with temperatures in the low seventies and no rain for awhile.
“Good, maybe tomorrow I can finally go to the boathouse and see what needs to be done in there.”
LeAnn fell asleep on the couch while watching a movie after the news ended. She awoke suddenly to the sound of music. She picked up her cell phone and saw it was midnight. She looked at the TV to see what orchestra was performing the song and on what show. She saw there was no orchestra, only an infomercial about an anti-aging face cream.
“Not again!” she exclaimed groggily to herself. “Where is that music coming from? Why again tonight? This is weird”. All of a sudden, she remembered last night when she had heard the music she had also seen a light at the boathouse. She hurriedly turned on the couch to look out the window behind her. The boathouse was dark, and she noticed the rain had stopped again. Because there was no moon, thanks to the clouds, it was hard to see the boathouse clearly. She didn’t see light moving around the walkway. That convinced her that it had been the moon reflecting on the windows the night before.
“Good, but what’s with the music?” It was still playing. Tired, she decided not to worry about it and go up to bed. She switched off the TV, turned off the lamp, and climbed up the stairs. She went into her bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth. Coming out of the bathroom, she switched off the light and walked toward her bed. She took her night tee shirt off the hook in the closet and slipped it over her head. She folded back the blankets, turned off the lamp. Just as she was climbing into bed, she decided to look out the window. “Oh, no!” She couldn’t believe her eyes. There it was again, a white light and it looked like it was floating around the walkway on the boathouse.
“What is that?” she whispered to herself, a little scared. “Do I dare go out there and see if someone is there? Did I lock the doors? Damn, I don’t remember”. She hurriedly ran down the stairs to check the doors. Thank you God, I did. Walking to the back door, she spotted the baseball bat her brother had left.
“I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can go out there,” she said aloud, starting to spook herself. Slowly going to the living room, she knelt on the couch and peeked out the window. The light was still there and she could still hear the music. It didn’t sound familiar, but she couldn’t tell from in the house. It definitely was a slow song, not rock and roll.
She thought about the bat again and started towards the kitchen. “I’m going down there. This is ridiculous, no one can be here, I don’t see any boat.” Then she thought maybe they, whoever they were, might have parked their boat somewhere along the shore where she wouldn’t be able to see it.
“Pull yourself together, LeAnn”, she said out loud. “This is a safe lake. There haven’t been any break-in’s, or vand—” She stopped short. The music had stopped and she ran to look out the window again. The light was gone. Confused and still scared, she ran up the stairs to look out her bedroom window, but there was still no light on the walkway. She opened her window to listen better. No music. The night was quiet. Thunder rumbled in the far distance and she heard a frog croaking somewhere near by. Slowly she closed the window again and decided to leave the hall and downstairs lights on.
Again climbing into bed, she pulled the blankets almost over her head.
Afraid that the music would start up again___and worse, that the light on the boathouse walkway would come back___she closed her eyes and prayed for sleep.