CHAPTER FOUR

 

Mariah woke up covered in sweat lying flat on the floor, the air had gone out of the mattress leaving it empty with her still on top. She was not entirely sure how, but she must have managed to not plug the deflate hole properly and it must have popped open when she rolled over at some point in the night. She got up slowly, her back now sore from laying on the hard floor and walked into the bathroom to splash water on her sweat-soaked face. Mariah was sure she had left the fan on pointed at her bed, but it was unplugged when she woke, leaving her room stifling hot. The house was fitted with air conditioning at some point in the nineties, but before running that she wanted to get the vents cleaned. Open windows and fans would be her best friend until the cleaners could fit her on their schedule.

Making quick work of her face, she walked back to her room. The television channel that she had left on for the night was now nothing but fuzz. Mariah was not surprised by that at all, with no cable she only had use of the antenna, and local channels end after a certain time. Mariah blew the mattress back up and glanced at her phone. Her mom had messaged her back, her heart jumped a beat as she saw, “I love you, ladybug, always will.”

Love you too momma, she thought to herself. It was far too late to text back; she didn’t want to wake her mom up just to end up having to talk to her about the mattress deflating and waking up covered in sweat. She could say one thing though, better to wake up covered in sweat than freezing cold. She may have been a little more inclined to hear the ghost stories Liza had kept to herself. Mariah laid there for a few hours just thinking about life, mostly missing her dad and wondering what life would be like had he not died so suddenly.

She didn’t remember falling asleep again, but she must have because she was startled awake, who knows how long after, to little scratching sounds. She jumped up, her bedding flying everywhere. She was not going to have mice, or worse, rats running around in her house, Hell-to-the-no! She flipped the lights on and turned around in circles looking for the little rodent. There was nothing. Not even so much as a tiny little mark in the dust on the floors. Crossing her fingers, she walked to the bathroom to check there. Again nothing.

Chalking it up to the idea that she must just be hearing things or dreaming, she shut the lights off and went back to bed, not processing the strange feeling she got as she did so. This was beginning to feel like the longest night ever. She had forgotten to get some of her mom’s perfume to spritz around so she would have a familiar smell. Maybe her mom will let her have a few of her dad’s old shirts she wondered as she laid back down for the last hour or two of the night, though she could clearly see the sun coming up through the crevices of the ugly curtains.

The next day flew by. Mariah spent most of it napping, eating, and generally relaxing in her little bubble. Sunday was a different story. She woke up early to the sound of small scurries like the ones she had heard before. Whatever it is living there, it has some seriously long nails. The scratching sound was much louder than the previous night. It sounded as if the mouse or rat had moved its entire family in. This time she was sure it was coming from the far side of the house, inside the wall. She contemplated adopting a cat, that would take care of this problem in the fastest way, but the dead bodies of rodents all over the house was not exactly at the top of her wish list.

Mariah ventured around outside, writing down plans of what needed or what she wanted to do with the exterior as she went along.

The property came with several acres of land. While investigating the property, she found she was the proud owner of a very overgrown pond. It looked deep, but that would need to be assessed to be sure. After more nosing around, Mariah was also able to uncover a small boat buried in the brush about fifteen feet from the pond. The boat was old, that much was for sure. It was likely from the early nineties if she had to guess. It needed to be sanded and repainted but other than that there didn’t look to be any holes or other damage. It was a pale green color, and there was a lovely name painted along the side, “Emelia.” Mariah was certain she would be able to fix her up after she finished the house. Maybe she could fish in her pond she thought happily as she continued looking around.

The pond was by far not the only interesting thing she found. In the trees that surround parts of the house, she found a few small huts. She had no idea they existed because they weren’t in any of the plans she had received when she bought the house. They were run down and barely noticeable unless you ventured upon them. They looked as though they had been there for centuries with no upkeep. The history junkie inside of her started going nuts. Somewhere there had to be information on this property. She just needed to find it.

She spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening poking around the inside of the house. Whoever lived here last left all of their belongings behind. Mariah refused to sleep in an old, janky used bed, much less use someone’s old towels and linens. She had packed up all the things in the room she was staying in and put them neatly into one of the other rooms. Today she decided to go through some of the boxes. She had found so many things that could fetch a pretty good price on eBay and many more that she could sell to museums or antique shops. Nothing, however, that gave any clue as to who the owners of the house were or even if there were more hut-type places located elsewhere on the property. What she found was just a bunch of vintage items; they were neat none-the-less.

Having seen pretty much every room in the house at this point, she even peeked at the basement, which was confirmed to be all dirt and brick. It was a huge space. Once finished it would take up the entire length and width of the house. They seem to have built the place on a huge hole in the ground, which would explain the uneven stairs. While she was down there, she didn’t go to the very back, but she did see that there looked to be some type of animal droppings. Her best guess was that a neighborhood cat broke in at some point over the years, or maybe a raccoon or two. That will need remediation as well; animal feces carry all sorts of diseases. Jotting that down on her handy pocket list she headed back upstairs without really looking too much farther past the feces. Besides, it would likely look different after being jacked up by the contractors.

She spent a good amount of time in what she dubbed the library. Of course, every big house has its own library; in the movies anyway. She found ledgers for what looked like an old hospital, possibly some medical records, but they were all in French and, though she had many skills, speaking a foreign language was not one of them. She set them aside to take to the public library later. Hopefully, I can find a translator, she thought. She also hoped that the papers could shed light on the house’s former owners or even the ones prior.

She found some old photo albums, which were so old that some of the photos crumbled under her touch. Not wanting to risk them all, she set those aside as well, thinking she could have them laminated to keep them safe. One of the photos was dated back to 1895 and held the face of a beautiful woman or young girl, it was hard to tell, she wore a mask, the kind you typically see in old movies.

The photo was old, but the girl definitely had curls in her hair and it was pinned up with a small bonnet, and ringlets on the sides. She wore what looked to be a very fancy dress for the time. It had ruffles on the end of the sleeves, that Mariah thought denoted youth. She looked beautiful, but her eyes were sad. Wondering what her name was, Mariah set that specific photo inside her small pad of paper with all the notes, wrote “Name?” next to it, and then moved on to the next room. She assumed it had been the master bedroom.

Mariah had purposely avoided this room for the simple purpose that it creeped her out. The walls were a dark grey color and not unlike the rest of the house, lacked any character. A massive four-poster bed dominated the room, with a curtain surrounding the entire thing. At the very end, there was what looked like a small mesh window or screen of some sort in the curtains. Maybe whoever slept here liked to be able to see out, or someone needed to see in. She honestly wasn’t sure if she cared to know. The room in general just felt wrong. There were no drawers, no cabinets, nothing that would hold any kind of personal belongings. Just a dark room with a huge creepy bed in the middle.

Walking through the room made Mariah want to take shower. She shook up a ton of dust opening the curtains on the bed, and the ones covering the windows. The natural light in the room made it look slightly less frightening, but it was still an eerie space. She couldn’t see why anyone would want to sleep there. It was dull enough to drive you crazy, not in the silly kind of way, but in the straitjacket kind of way. The room could use some patterned wallpaper and a few vintage pieces of furniture to liven it up. She wrote that down on her note pad and then headed back to her room to get ready for bed. Tomorrow was the day Greg was coming to jack the foundation and begin repairs. She found that unbelievably exciting.