The House Of Shadows

The house where I grew up is still here! I thought it would have been torn down years ago. When I received the letter saying I had inherited this old property, I expected to see an empty field. Well, since I’m here, I guess I’ll take a look at the old place. The steps still creak in the same places they used to. Oops! That board is rotten and almost made me turn my ankle. Glad I wore sneakers instead of heels today. I wonder if the door is locked? Not that there will be anything inside that needs protecting. They sent a key with the letter and I’m sure I put it in my purse before I left Nashville. Ah, here it is. That’s a surprise! The door is locked. At least the key works. I wonder if there is any electricity? I sure didn’t think to bring a flashlight and the one on my key ring is too small even if the batteries weren’t dead. Oh good, the lights work. I’ll just put my purse on the couch and look around. 

Cheryl left the living room and went to the kitchen. It was like nothing had changed in all the years since she left. The living room had the same worn out couch and chairs with the scratched and marred tables beside them. The coffee table used to be her study desk when ma wouldn’t let her take homework to her room. The longest, deepest scratch was from her three-ring notebook. She had turned it upside down while she went to the bathroom and pulled it the length of the table that way when she got back. The top ring was sprung and it scored the table as she pulled it to her. Ma was really mad and she was grounded for a month over that scratch.

The kitchen had changed a little. There was a different table and chairs now. She remembered the kitchen set that was there before she left. The table had an old phone directory under one leg to balance it and all the cushions on the chairs had holes allowing the stuffing to escape until there was nothing but cloth covering the unfinished wood. This one was more modern with metal legs and metal backed chairs. The cushions did not match but every chair had a cushion. The old stove and refrigerator were from the days of putrid greens or mustard yellows. The colors were so faded it was difficult to tell which these had been but she remembered they had been yellow back then. The sink used to be white but now was a grayish color with a ring of light brown where the water had stained it. The water here stained everything with that shade of brown. They had no white clothes because the water turned them that same shade as around the sink.

Moving on to the rest of the small house, she peeked into what had been the master bedroom then into the boys’ bedroom and finally the girls’ bedroom. Only the master bedroom still had furnishings. The other two had been used for storage after all the kids left. Just as well. She would no longer fit into one of those tiny beds anyway. Returning to the master bedroom, she checked out the mattress and was surprised it was made of memory foam. Her parents never bought anything but innerspring mattresses with box springs under it. The bed frame reminded her of pictures taken in the preceding century. It had wooden slats and was a four poster frame with a design etched in all four posts. Looking closer she saw the design was flowers and crosses. It reminded her of a picture she saw somewhere. It was in a book she had read. The design was to protect you in the darkness as you slept. Why would someone want that design on their bed? 

Returning to the living room, Cheryl decided to spend the night since it was already too late to find a room in the dinky, little town a couple miles from the house. If there was even any motel, hotel or boarding house left there. The town had been declining for years before she left and what she saw as she drove through today made her wonder if anyone still lived there, let alone did business there. Television had never been permitted while she lived here so she was not surprised to see that had not changed. She saw no radio either. She had eaten dinner before leaving to drive here. At least she had a book in the car she hadn’t read. 

While she was getting the book, she also brought a snack and some bottled water that she thought to bring along. Checking the refrigerator, she saw almost nothing in there so her bottled water had plenty of room to chill. Some condiments were on the door shelves but the rest was empty. The pantry was as bare as the fridge. Looking into the cupboards, she found an unopened box of toaster pastries beside the pop-up toaster. It wasn’t what she usually ate for breakfast but at least it was something to tide her over until she was back home in the city. Another door revealed a can of coffee and sugar. The counter top had a coffeepot so she would have her cup of coffee in the morning.Taking her book, a bottle of water and her snack, she stretched out on the couch to read before going to bed.

Before she finished the first page she decided it might be better to read in the bedroom. The lighting in the living room cast too many shadows on the page for comfortable reading. The bedroom was more brightly lit so she undressed and climbed in bed. Her book and water waited on the nightstand and she turned on the lamp beside them. The book was a supernatural story of a house out in the country a little north of Nashville filled with shadows. It was well written and captured her complete attention quickly. The only interruption to her reading was the lamp flickering off and on causing shadows across the pages. Soon her eyes refused to stay open and she fell asleep. The book slide to the floor and was lost in the darkness under the bed. 

Morning light shone through the window and onto Cheryl, rousing her from sleep. At first she could not remember where she was then memory of last night reminded her she had slept in her parents bedroom and was back in the old homestead. Stretching and yawning as she stood up and headed for the bathroom, she realized she had left the lamp on last night. The bathroom was in the middle of the house and was surrounded by rooms on every side so she flicked the light switch as she entered.. She had forgotten how dim the light was in there but it was enough to wash her face and get dressed. Before she finished washing her face, she decided the light had a short because it flickered as if something was coming between her and it. It was almost as if a shadow was moving between them but there was nothing to cause a shadow in this room. Quickly finishing dressing, Cheryl tried to find her book but did not see it on the bed or nightstand. She checked the floor on both sides of the bed but her book was not to be found. She would have to try to replace it when she was back home because the story was really good. It was almost like it had been written about this house with its faulty wiring and bad memories.

As soon as she had eaten her toaster pastry and drank her coffee, she took her remaining water back to the car. One more check inside the house to unsuccessfully look for her book and make sure all lights were turned off, she closed and locked the door. As she drove back home to the city she thought about her few hours back in the old house she grew up in. How could her book disappear that way since she was the only one in the house? It had to be there somewhere. It couldn’t have just walked away. Maybe she should have looked further under the bed. She could have dropped it when she fell asleep and maybe kicked it further under the bed when she first sat up. Just to be safe she would buy another copy. There was something about the story she tried to remember but it just wouldn’t come to her.

Back home in her Nashville apartment she had television and radio so her mind was kept occupied the rest of the day. Early the next morning she woke with the alarm signaling a day of work. She followed her usual routine and thought no more about her short stay in the past until she received a phone call that evening. It was the attorney who notified her of the inheritance of the old property. He suggested they plan to go have a look at the property that weekend. She agreed to the appointment but before she could tell him she had visited it the day before, he hung up. That night she began having nightmares about a house filled with shadows. By the time the alarm sounded, she had forgotten the nightmare. Every night the same nightmare haunted her but by morning it evaded her memory. Friday was a horrendous day at work so she went out to dinner in a little cafe she liked. It was a small candle lit dining room that cast interesting shadows on the walls. Almost like it used to be when she was home with her family. 

Dinner was delicious as always but the candle light made her uneasy for some reason. By the time she set the alarm to meet with the attorney in the morning, she was very much disturbed without knowing why. This time the nightmare woke her before it could disappear. She sat on the side of the bed trying to understand why she had the nightmare and why it upset her so much. It had been more than ten years since she had seen the shadows on the walls caused by the candle light while she was still at home with her family. That is when her memory hit the jackpot. There were no candle light dinners with her family. The shadows were not only on the walls. There were shadows everywhere in that house day and night. Her ma and pa told her not to pay any attention to the shadows. It had nothing to do with the lights. Just before she left home to be on her own, they finally told her the house had been built over an unmarked graveyard from the several Civil War battles around Nashville. All the soldiers whether North or South that had been killed in those battles were buried in the field under their house. The spirits of the soldiers became restless looking for their own homes causing shadows everywhere. 

The book she had been reading was written by a relative of one of the soldiers. The author had purchased the property from her ma and pa’s estate since none of the children wanted it. The relative was a woman named Darla Williams. She recognized the name now. That name is why she purchased the book in the first place. Soon after writing the book Ms. Williams was found dead in the master bedroom from an overdose of sleeping pills. Her death was ruled as an accident after her doctor stepped forward and testified she had been having trouble sleeping so he prescribed a few pills to help her get some sleep. She must have taken her prescribed dose then woke in a daze and forgotten she had already taken some of the pills. There were only two doses missing from his prescription. The pills were strong enough to have caused her death with only two doses. 

She recently spoke with someone having the same last name as Darla but yesterday was so busy everything was now a blur. Besides, Williams is a common last name after all. Cheryl lay back down and was soon fast asleep until the alarm woke her. She readied herself for her appointment with the attorney, Mr. Williams. She met him at his office and they used his car to drive to the old homestead. On the way she told him she knew the house was filled with the shadows of the spirits of fallen soldiers from the Civil War. She wanted the house and all out buildings torn down. She was giving the land to the the local Sons and Daughters of the War Between The States so they can create a memorial park in honor of the fallen whether they were from the North or the South. They should have access to the War records as to who was buried there and they can finally put the spirits to rest knowing they have not been forgotten. 

As they pulled into the driveway, Cheryl suddenly realized Mr. Williams was who she had been trying to remember. “Mr. Williams, were you related to Darla Williams?”

“Yes, she was my sister. Stanley Williams was our great-great-great-grandfather. He died during the last skirmish at Nashville and was buried here. Darla thought she could help the spirits find peace but the shadows filling the house drove her to overdose on sleeping pills. We will never know if it was accidental or purposely done. I had her buried at the edge of the wood in back of the house. I wanted to discuss what you intended to do with the property I bequeathed back to you after her death. Now I know you were aware of the spirits and I am pleased you wish to honor them. It would be my pleasure to present your gift of the forgotten graveyard to the Sons and Daughters of the War Between The States so they can turn it into a memorial for all the fallen buried here. I’m sure that is what our lost loved ones would want and it may well give them rest finally. Here is a copy of the book my sister wrote while she was living here. She signed it just for you and gave it to me for safe keeping until the time was right. I have done some investigating of those buried here. Did you know you have a relative who lost his life in the same skirmish with mine? I will be sure your relative is honored as well even though we fought on different sides.The War is long over and history, though remembered, should be buried as well. Perhaps we can become better acquainted as we develop this memorial. Would you care to have dinner with me tonight so we can further discuss history and the future of that memorial?”

“I would be honored Mr. Williams and thank you for the book. I seem to have lost mine here last night but planned to replace it. I think it is a well written though it stars the spirits of those long dead whose shadows will no longer darken the house that belonged to one of the spirits.”