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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2114358-The-death-of-a-mansion
Rated: E · Fiction · Paranormal · #2114358
Two boys witness the demise of an old mansion falling into the sea.
{{size:4}The Death of a mansion{size}/center}

“SHH!” said my friend Toby. His voice was barely louder than his breath. “They’ll hear us.”

I couldn’t bear thinking about just who or what “they” might be. I fear that thinking about them will somehow bestow the ability to hear my wildly pounding heart, thumping loudly in my chest. The vibration from the waves crashing against the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff is transmitted through two hundred feet of solid rock and still has enough power to make me acutely aware of my powerlessness before a force such as this. I felt it in the center of my bones. It is so inescapable that “hands over ears” won’t make it go away.

The earth and the sea were dimly lit by the rapidly fading satiny veil of thin overcast above. The last quarter moon was loosing its purchase on the sky, sliding rapidly toward the horizon. I knew it would be very dark soon. I clung tightly to the flashlight in my hand. Wishing to conserve the batteries as long as possible, I waited to turn it on. Clinging to the last bit of fading moonlight was much better than shining a light around. That would surely attract unwanted attention even at this late hour, and not bode well for our unauthorized adventure.

A huge sign leaned to the side but was still plainly readable. “THIS PROPERTY IS CONDEMNED.” It did nothing to deter us. My older brother warned me repeatedly, saying, “That old place will fall into the sea, any day now. I wouldn’t want to be inside when the weight of one small boy is just enough to tip it over the cliff. It is haunted by evil spirits that you can hear moaning at night.” The very fact that he told me that made me positive that it was all lies. He loved to scare me.

"“Not this time dear brother.”

Toby pushed aside the underbrush to better expose our goal. The supports that ran the full length of the house no longer held up the rear porch roof. It had fallen against the back of the structure and now presented a formidable obstacle to two small boys who were determined to go inside the precariously balanced ruins sitting on the cliff. One sidewall foundation was eroded and collapsed to the point that there was a six foot high open space. The upper structure had no support on this side. Bricks were scattered everywhere. A strong gust of wind caused several more bricks to hurl down joining the others on the ground.

“Let’s check the other side.” urged Toby in a low voice.

“Maybe there is no way left to get inside.” I hoped in my mind, still unsure if I really wanted to go in there.

Toby crept slowly through the waist high weeds on the other side, “Look here,” he whispered, motioning for me to follow. This corner had once housed a kitchen. Now a door hung precariously by one bottom hinge. It was tilted on its side with its top resting on the ground at least three feet below the door sill. It moved slightly. Its rusty hinge groaned in the gradually increasing wind from the sound. I laid the flashlight on the grossly tilted floor. It started to roll away but Toby grabbed it.

“Boost me up.” he said. I hesitated until he motioned frantically for me to get moving. I knelt on the ground and made a step with my hands so Toby could gain purchase on the rotted frame of the door. He pushed his way through the opening then turned around and offered me his hands to help pull me up. “Careful and don’t bump the door, it would probably fall off and make a lot of noise.”

We stood close together, slowly sweeping the interior of the building with the beam of the flashlight. Thousands of untold secrets lurked in every nook and cranny of this place. Everything of value had been stripped from the interior including the wainscoting which had once covered the stained plaster underneath. Someone had broken the wood lath strips that held up the plaster on some of the interior walls. Large sections had succumbed to the call of gravity, and lay in dusty heaps on the rotted sub floor. Only brittle bones of rotting firs supported the floors above. The flooring, once polished hardwood, had been scavenged long ago, leaving the once white sub-flooring to dry rot into brittle gray slats barely strong enough to hold your weight. I motioned that I thought we should spread our weight out as much as possible. The remains of a stairway that once provided access to the upper levels lay scattered in rotted chunks across the floor, discarded after being deemed worthless even for fire wood.

“Can you hear that?” said Toby pressing close to my side as if seeking support.

“How could I miss it?” The whole house seemed to be breathing as if it were alive and gasping its last breaths. “Its alive isn’t it?” The floor beneath our feet began rising as the front part of the house began teetering slowly downward toward the sea.

“Let’s get the Hell out of here,” exclaimed Toby heading for the door by which we had entered.

The light of the moon was no longer visible at all, it was pitch black outside. The house groaned and shifted, walking slowly toward the sea. By the time we reached the door, the sill had risen six feet above the ground. The roar of falling brick and groaning timbers caused me to shout to be heard. “We’re going to have to jump and hope for the best,” I yelled, leaping out into the darkness. Toby followed but he must have failed to roll with his fall.

He cried out just once and then lapsed into silence. He was brandishing the flashlight like a club that he could use against something he could not see but only feel. I remember the sense of tumbling end over end. I didn’t scream as the feeling of falling was replaced by the sensation of sitting on the solid edge of a cliff with only a few inches of earth between me and the edge directly above the jagged rocks far below.

For awhile I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the spectacle. The house groaned like a wounded beast, rocking slowly past the point of no return. With loud cracking and popping the remaining bones fractured letting the upper structure fall over the cliff. It actually took a long time to disintegrate. The house screamed from a thousand painful fractures as even the first floor and the old ship’s timbers upon which it rested followed behind crashing, onto the rocks below. Back to the sea again.
When at last, the house finished writhing in its death throes, I was forced, as if by an unseen hand, to look into the yawning darkness into which the old mansion had fallen. The water was the color of blood from the sudden influx of red dirt and tons of crumbed brick from above.

I kept what I thought was a safe distance from the edge, as I inched back to where Toby had the red flasher on the flashlight activated. I was not surprised when I tripped over something, in the dark. It was a long, dark-wood box fastened together with dovetails. It had immense, green-tarnished brass, reinforcements on the corners that matched the heavy Handles on either end. I grasped a handle accepting that it was too heavy to carry alone, I dragged it a few steps to where Toby sat on the ground. He shined the light on the obviously very old box. “It must have fallen from the dying house as it suffered its end,” I said, although I could not visualize exactly how that might have happened. I didn’t want to even think that it might have been moved by a spirit so I would find it.

“Hide it in the bushes, come back tomorrow. I need you to go for help, now.” His eyes were big as saucers. He was shivering and breathing funny from the pain. I noticed his leg had an extra bend and realized it was broken. “The house fell right on it” his voice sounded oddly far away.

My ears weren’t just ringing, they were rendered nearly useless by a cacophony of bells.

Toby was shivering badly, so I took off my sweater. “Put it on, Toby. I’ll hide this for now!” I dragged the box as deep into the undergrowth as possible. Running faster than I ever ran before, down the old road to where it crossed E street, I could see my goal just two blocks away, the fire station. I had run downhill (which helped) for almost two miles and did not get a stitch in my side! I don’t know where the stamina came from. I never had felt anything like the energy that was coursing through my body as I raced to the open doors of the old Fire Station. A paramedic was sitting on a lawn chair staring out into the night.

“My friend needs help now! His leg looks funny.”

“Where is he? Can you take us to him?” Steve Hansen let me ride in the front of the rescue vehicle and point the way.

“Up by the haunted house on the cliff. We watched it fall into the sea, just a little bit ago. Toby fell down and I think his leg is broken.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”son?”

“It was just us, Toby and me. We ran because we were scared. I’m fine but Toby needs you now.”

I pointed to a clearing maybe ten steps from where the old house had stood just a little while ago. “Toby is right there.” I pointed at the spot where I had placed my sweater over his shoulders.

Toby still shivered even with two blankets over the stretcher in which he rode. It seemed like hours before we pulled into the Emergency Entrance to Seaside Memorial Hospital.

After turning Toby over to hospital personnel, Steve Hansen asked for my phone number to call my parents.

“Uhhh” I said “I’ll just walk home, it isn’t that far.”

He looked at me with a lopsided grin, “Afraid you’ll catch hell from your parents?” I just nodded my head. “Tell you what, this can remain a secret. I’ll take you home so you can sneak back in, but you have to tell me later what it was like watching that old haunted house die and fall down the cliff.” In a conspiratory voice he added, “I used to play out there in the day time, but “never” at night.” He shifted his weight as if he were about to run, “I can’t believe you two went out there at night,” he said, shaking his head. He handed me the large Maglite that I had left with Toby. “Your friend said that this was yours. Get in.”

“Please, I’d rather just walk, I don’t want anyone to see anything unusual.” I turned and walked away quickly. The wind had cranked up a notch and the chilly cold breeze off the sound made me wish for the sweater I had loaned Toby. I was glad I had the flashlight, it would make a formidable club if it were needed.

Sneaking in as quietly as I could, I put my very dirty clothes into my hamper. I laid in bed a long time wondering if I should tell “Steve Hansen,” the fireman, about the box that I had hidden in the underbrush. Even though I had only a moment’s glimpse of the box in a quick sweep of the flashlight in Toby’s hand, it’s image filled my dreams, green aged brass hardware on wood, black from time and frequent wipes with an oiled cloth to preserve it from the salt sea air. I thought about opening it, but then the image of the huge brass lock stopped me in my tracks. Even in a dream I was powerless to open it.

Morning came after only two hours of not very restful sleep. I awoke with one thought. “The Key! The lock has to have a key.” I vowed at that point to return to the site as soon as possible. First glance outside made me realize that the hunt for the key would have to wait for dryer weather. It was pouring rain.

I knew my brother would not be working in the rain, so I would have his demented spirit with which to deal all day by myself. I hoped for good reason to be anywhere else but here. With Mother gone to work and my dad buried under a little white cross in a forest of ones that look just the same. I no support. My brother relegated me to the status of a slave anytime Mom was gone. He was cruel but careful not to leave bruises that I could show to anyone, else. He seemed to be getting worse. I could hardly wait until he left for the Marine Corps.

I wanted to go to the hospital to check on Toby. How could I explain how I knew that he was in the hospital, unless I was with him?

Perhaps I would go to the Library. I’d like to learn more about that old house before I bring that box home.

I could smell beer when I came downstairs leaving no doubt about what my big brother Kevin was having for breakfast. He was sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand, watching reruns on TV. I desperately tried to become invisible, but when I opened the refrigerator as quietly as I possibly could, he acknowledged that he knew I was up.

“Git me a beer, this one’s empty.” He flipped his bottle with a loud cash into the metal garbage can he always dragged around with him for the empties, when he was drinking. Mom never said much to him if he would pick up his empties and not leave a mess in the kitchen. I think she was afraid of him. Not more than I was before, last night.

“One or two?” I asked.

“One, then you can get me another one when I need it. It isn't like you have anything important to do today, do you.” Sarcasm dripping off his lips. “I think this is yours,”he said holding out the sweater I had loaned Toby last night. “Toby’s sister, Evie, brought this back to you this morning, and said thanks for helping him. She told me he is in the hospital.” He jumped up grabbing my hair and pushing my face into the wall. “What the fuck did you do last night? You gonna catch ten kinds of hell when Mother finds out that you were out running around in the middle of the night with a friend who just happened to wind up in the hospital with a badly broken leg.”

I can’t explain what I was feeling. Something amazing happened last night. I’ve changed. I realized that I was not afraid of this sicko creep any more. When he relaxed his grip on my hair, what followed happened automatically, without thought or plan. I pivoted and kicked him square in the nuts. He went down whimpering. “No more big brother. You ain’t treating me like this no more. You may outweigh me by forty pounds but every ounce of me is pissed-off mad.” I reached down grabbing hold of his shaggy hair, and pulled his face up where I could look right in to it.

“Remember you have to sleep sometime, Kevin, that is when I’ll stomp on your nuts. Remember this feeling.” He dropped his head unwilling to look directly at me. I grabbed my sweater and my slicker headed out into the rain.

I really wasn’t sure where my bravado had originated. I looked at my reflection in the rain-wet window of the Sunshine Cafe which my mother ran. The image seemed somehow changed very different from yesterday. I headed inside. I was hungry and wanted to intercept any wild accusations my brother would tell her, so I went inside, firm in my resolve. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but something deep inside me changed drastically last night. I just can’t choose to not do this. Mother came out of the kitchen with two plates of steaming food which she set before a tourist couple, seated at the last booth by the windows.

“’Hungry, Tom?” She reached over the counter to ruffle my hair, but she stopped short, looking intensely at me over the glasses perched on her nose. “Ham, eggs and a waffle ok with you.”

“Sounds great,” I hesitated a second then continued. “Mom there is something I really need to talk about, when you get a few minutes.”

She said nothing, acknowledging me instead with a lift of her eyebrows. She returned moments later and motioned toward the booth farthest away from the tourists. She set my food down on the worn surface of the booth. “I’ll be back as soon as I get me some coffee and a glass of milk for you.”

Wasting no time I poured a little honey on the waffle, and began cutting it into bite size chunks.

“So what is on your mind this morning, Tom?”

I decided to do what I thought was necessary to declaw the beast that was my brother. “Mom, I snuck out last night. Toby and I went up to the haunted house on the cliff. We got there just in time to watch it crumble and fall into the sea. We weren’t sure just how much more was going to fall, so we ran. Toby fell and broke his leg.” I was somewhat out of breath when I added. “I ran to the fire station and got help.”

“Tom, Toby’s sister was in a little while ago. She didn’t mention that you were the one with him, who ran for help. I wondered because I know that you two are practically inseparable.”

“Did his sister say how he is?”

“His leg is packed in ice to help the swelling go down before they operate and put him in a cast. He will be out of commission for awhile.” She read the concern on my face and changed tacks. “Tom, I am so glad that you told me. It was the right thing to do. I’m not going to preach to you, I think you realize now just how dangerous it was. Please don’t do anything like this again. I just need to have an idea where you are and what you are doing.”

I ate my breakfast slowly, acutely aware of the fact that Mom was studying my face. “You seem different today,” she said.

“I guess maybe I am.” I let the subject drop. “Is it ok to visit Toby?”

“I’m sure it will be awhile before you can visit him. His sister said that she would let you know, when you can visit.”

I looked at her realizing that she no longer saw the scared little mouse I’d been just yesterday. I looked at her straight in the eye. Suddenly full of emotion, I said, “Thanks, Mom.” There was no need to say what for. “I guess I’m off to the library, then. There is something I need to find out, about.”

“Tom, Kevin got his letter from the Marine Corps, yesterday. He is supposed to report tomorrow afternoon.”

I did not want her to know how happy that made me. I looked at her, totally unable to hide the little smile darting around the left corner of my mouth.

“Me too,” she said with an odd little smile on her face.

When I stepped outside, I noted that the rain had stopped and the sun was trying to poke a hole through the overcast. I started for the library but made a detour by the fire station. The front doors were open so I walked in and asked a young man, who was polishing a bright red firetruck. “Is Steve Hansen on duty?”

“Looking for me?” said a smiling Steve Hansen as he stepped out of a small office “I just came by to finish the paperwork from last night.” He motioned toward the office. “Make yourself comfortable, I should be finished in fifteen minutes or so. Then I have the rest of the day off.”

I sat quietly watching him struggle with the paperwork. “Your name isn’t on any of this, an unidentified boy let us know what happened.” He smiled broadly as he put the pages into a folder. “All finished. Are you up for a coke at DQ?”

“I just had breakfast at the Sunshine Cafe. Look, there is something I have to tell you. I think I need your help.”

“Let’s walk to my car. We can talk there.”

I followed him to an ancient but very well kept, white over blue, late fifties, Ford Fairlane hard top. I opened the passenger door as he opened the driver’s door. The car was like new inside and out. “What do you think of my car? I inherited it from my grandpa when I was sixteen years old.”

“I’s cool, but I need to tell you something now! After the house fell I found something. It was far too heavy for me to cart away by myself. I need help to move it and to find a place to store it till I find the key to open it.”

“You need a key? I might be able to help you. When I was a kid I did a lot of exploring of the grounds of the house on the cliff. I found a lot of interesting stuff, most of which I still have. I remember a key, or two. I never knew what locks they might fit. Shall we look at what you found before someone else finds it?”

When we reached the end of the navigable road, he stopped. The soil here was quite stony so there was very little mud. I lead the way into the underbrush where I stashed the box. “There it is,” I said pushing a low hanging branch out of the way.

Steve whistled, “I don’t know what it is, but I know for sure it is really old.”

The box seemed no worse for wear from the rain storm. Beads of water glistened from the patina of a well oiled surface.

The box seemed much lighter with help on the other end. We carried it out to where the car waited. Steve opened the trunk. We both smiled when we discovered the box just fit cross-ways in the trunk.

We both had a coke at DQ’s drive through on the way home. Steve pulled up to a modest older frame-house with a much newer two-car garage next to it. “My grandpa willed me this house. I built the garage so I would have a place for my collection of stuff.” We carried the box in and set it on a solid wood workbench. He took out a digital camera and snapped pictures of the box from several angles. “It might be a good idea to have a little information about what is in the box before we jar it about much more.”

I read from A large brass tag. “Amsterdam" and a few words that I didn’t recognize followed by a date Sixteen twenty six in fancy almost unreadable script.”

“This is really old, If this date is correct it dates back to before this area was annexed by the British. This area was not New York back then, it was New Amsterdam, a haven for the mixed bag of people that settled this area. Interesting times, those.”

“Was this old Mansion that old before it fell over the edge?”

“Yes, it’s been here since the early 1600s. I’ve been interested in it since I was a child. Something happened near there that I never have been able to explain. I was rescued from drowning right off the point. My row boat flipped over dumping me right into the current. I had given up. knowing that these were my last few moments on this earth. Someone or something picked me up and carried me up to the front porch, and gently set me down. I know I would have drowned without the lift.”

He looked at me obviously not wanting to bore me. Smiling I said “More, tell me everything you know about this place.”

“The house was built by Captain Van der Houten, the skipper of an early sail boat, that ferried Dutch settlers from the lowlands.“New Amsterdam was the hope of the people.” After transporting over one hundred ship loads of people from the old world and ninety nine shiploads of beaver pelts to Amsterdam without paying a penny in taxes to the Dutch Government, he was not very popular with the powers at be back home. So he elected to stay in New Amsterdam. He dismantled his ship and build his home on this cliff. Away from others he fortified the high ground, six cannons surrounded his house. He was left alone and never paid any taxes to anyone.

Steve checked again to make sure I hadn’t lost interest. “Most of his crew stayed too. Some of them married girls that they met while bringing refugees from the old country to the perceived safety of the New World. If uncertainty set in after one’s arrival, it mattered not, because New Amsterdam was a place of new beginnings for everyone.”

He paused, took a deep breath, then continued. “Dreams were dreamed, families started, and new friends made to replace, the old ones left behind in the lowlands. Great things were built in secret collaboration with technical people from the old world. In New Amsterdam ideas and enthusiasm began to bear fruit.” That lasted until the British took over, then things changed quickly. The bright glowing yellow flame of New Amsterdam ingenuity was replaced by the creeping red flames of the forges of New York.”

“Wow! You know a lot about this place.” I was impressed by anyone who took time to become an expert. “I have tons of questions.”

“Wait, while I get a box of junk that I picked up out there. I used to go out there frequently, before the murders.”

“What murders?”

“A fraternity and its sister sorority, had a party in there about twenty years ago. They were from the city and had heard of this place from a ghost hunter who was making plans to visit the house on the cliff, to test out his newest gadgets. The kids arrived just a few hours before the Ghost Hunter. What he found defies description.

Fifteen kids who had everything to live for, were found disemboweled. The first floor was littered with scraps of their entrails. It looked like they had exploded!” He paused to take several deep breaths. I know this is true. I hid in the bushes and watched them haul away litters of mixed entrails.”

Steve stopped dead, as if the memory was more than he could bear. He cleared his throat and continued.

“The ghost hunter dismantled his equipment and left in a hurry. ‘The paranormal activity was off the charts,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to re-calibrate everything.’ He never returned.” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “The police claimed they had been an attacked by a bear, an opinion which was substantiated by the Medical examiner, even though no one had seen a bear around here since the late eighteen hundreds. The property was condemned and visitors were actively discouraged from visiting.”

“There have been five major storms in the last twenty years, each took it’s bite out of the coastal cliff, but the old mansion still clung tenaciously to its perch on the clif, till you were there to bear witness to what happened."

He turned on a bright overhead light and dumped the pile of hardware which he had rescued from the Mansion, onto the bench beside the box.

I picked out the three keys from the junk. One by one we tried them in the heavy lock. Only one fit into the slot but would twist neither to the left or right. “I’ll give it a dose of WD40 to see if it is just stuck. It needs to sit awhile to work.” He picked up two tiny ball peen hammers and began gently tapping the mechanism from both sides. The gentle tapping and two more squirts dislodged a lump of gunk from inside the lock. He turned the key. It moved somewhat reluctantly but it moved! It could not turn far enough to open the lock. Two more applications of WD40 followed by more gentle tapping of the tiny hammers, resulted in a snap. More solvent and working the hasp back and forth a little bit at a time was required before it was finally possible to remove the lock.

Steve put the sharp edge of a wood chisel into the slot where the top met the bottom. We squirted all four hinges on the back then moved the lid only a little at a time to avoid damage. Finally with a shrill cry of protest the lid opened under Steve’s gentle ministrations. I did not understand what I saw inside. Rows of small leather pockets held what I figured were lenses mounted in brass rings. There must have been close to one hundred lenses. There were several Brass tubes and a heavy bronze weight, a stabilizer upon which a frame could be assembled, that would hold a finished telescope.

“It will take a lot of work to put this together.” A small goat leather bound volume in the bottom of the box was carefully oiled along its spine and creases, which kept it from disintegrating before our eyes. Reverently opening the book revealed parchment pages resplendent with images and instructions in ink. in a language neither of us could read.

“I have to learn how to read this as soon as possible,” I said.

“I’m going hunting for someone who can read this, now,” said Steve.

“What do you think this is, Steve?”

“It is an optics laboratory for building Telescopes, I think.”

“I’ll help photograph all the parts, I know I can borrow my mothers digital camera. I hope we can get the lenses out of the holders without damaging them.”
“Can you come over tomorrow?”

“I think my mother will be fine with that. On my way home, I’m going to stop and ask her permission. I think she will not worry if I keep her well informed. I need to keep my brother out of my business, but I don’t think that will be the challenge it once was. He is going into the Marines, soon.”

“Tom, I’m going to fire up my computer and see what I can find about New Amsterdam and Captain van der Houten.”
I left and went to the library where with the help of a friendly librarian I placed a book “Early Dutch language in New Amsterdam,” on hold. It would arrive soon from inter-library loan.

When I entered the Sunshine Cafe, Toby’s mother and sister were seated in a booth, drinking hot liquid from Sunshine’s enormous signature mugs.

I went over asking, “How’s Toby.?”

“He will have surgery in the morning and get a long cast on his leg from his toes to above his hip.” said his mother.

“Kind of like one legged pants with a built in boot.” said his sister Evie. I couldn’t help myself, I grinned from ear to ear. Evie lit up like a Forth of July sparkler from the fact that I had acknowledged her with my smile. In the back of my mind I wrestled with the implication that my best friend’s fourteen year old little sister might have a crush on me. At sixteen, I plainly understood the gulf that lay between us.

I cornered Mom long enough to explain a little about the old book that I wanted to learn to read.

“School work first, Tom.” Pleased that I consulted her she smiled brightly and handed me a foil wrapped dish of today’s blue plate special. Make sure Kevin eats. He needs to be sober enough to catch his bus tomorrow afternoon.”

I left with some reservation as to how the next confrontation with my brother might work out. The front door was open so I walked in as if there had been no confrontation this morning. He was asleep on the couch, not one dirty dish was in the sink.

I heated a small portion of our dinner on a paper plate in the microwave. I put the lions share in the refrigerator for Kevin.

I went to my room and fired up my computer, I finished my schoolwork and discovered I was long past ready for some sack time. I awoke with Kevin banging loudly on my door. “You have to come out sometime.”

“How about now.” I shouted jerking the door open hitting him, with both hands spread wide open, in the center of his chest. He wound up sitting. He looked up at me in shock, shaking his head side to side. I said in as non combative manner as possible, “You don’t scare me any more Kevin, your reign of terror is over.”

I heard the front door close and my mother call, “Tom, Kevin?”

I opened my door slightly calling down the stairs. “I’m just going to bed, Mom. Do you need something, Mom?”

“Go ahead and get some sleep.” she paused a little and shouted “Kevin, you left a mess.”

Kevin stood at the top of the stairs holding onto the hand rail for support. “Be right down, Mom.”

I pulled up the covers and was soon fast asleep in a world of lenses and telescopes. I peered intently at the horizon searching for a landmark, to guide me through the uncertain days that lie ahead.

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