Hydrangea Blue

The bright glint from the corner of the closet cast rainbow colored prisms that danced along the wall and ceiling of my small confines. The sun entered the tiny space through the open door at just the right angle to discover what was there all along waiting to be found. I looked at it with curiosity after I had studied the dancing colors to find their source. Not only was I mesmerized by the magical display but now I was caught up in the intrigue of just what this object was. I didn’t reach for it just yet. I didn’t want the moment to be over.  

My paintbrush was abandoned for the moment to drip its “Rhododendron Blue“ contents lazily onto the drop cloth. The paint store had promised that the color would bring the “majesty of spring” into my lackluster bedroom. I had spent the day taking down the curtains and emptying the room of most of the its contents.. The cupboard had been emptied and its items laid carefully on the bed and dressers. The drop-cloth covered forms were protected from the clumsiness of my painting. 

 I had some fantasies as I sat there lost in my thoughts about the object. Actually, I think that I was hypnotized into silent reflection. Without the convergence of the curtain-less windows, the open door, the time of day that allowed the sun to find its way to that far corner and the fact that I was sitting on the floor at just the right angle, I wouldn’t have had my attention drawn to this hidden gem. 

That’s what it looked like, a gem. I allowed my imagination to wander over all the possibilities. Was it a diamond large enough to bring some relief to my meager salary that barely covered the expenses of living. I laughed at myself because, although the object was small, it was very large for a diamond. So, what could it be? I knew that all I had to do was reach over and touch it. But, I needed a moment. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and opened the camera so that I could capture this moment on video for posterity. I made sure to include all components of the event in case this turned out to be something that I never wanted to forget.

Afterwards, I lit the flashlight on my phone to study the object more closely. It was an old-fashioned knob that reminded me of the glass doorknobs on the doors in this 200 year old home I shared with my grandmother. I couldn’t wait to reveal this find to her. She was always delighted and loved to get caught up in a good mystery. I reached for the knob to pick it up but it wouldn’t budge. It was attached and not just sitting there like I had originally thought. I decided to not be selfish and to share this moment with my grandmother. I called to her and she came into the room. She was obviously baking because she was wearing an apron and was dusted with flour. She was wiping her hands on a towel as she walked into the room with a smile and a look of curiosity. 

Grandma was not most peoples ideas of what a grandmother should look like. She was petite with warm brown eyes and dark brown hair with barely a hint of grey. She belied her age, looking more like she was in her forties instead of sixties. She dressed with her own personal flair and always looked stylish. I loved her so much and enjoyed the fun we always had. She was my best friend and confidant. We resembled each other so much, people called me her ”mini me.” She got down on her knees beside me and looked to where I was pointing. “What on earth…” she said as she looked at me with those sparkling eyes and a smile. I knew she would be as excited as I was. “It won’t move. I tried to pick it up but its attached to something.” I tried to pull on it to see if perhaps it opened a compartment in the floor. No luck. “Turn it” she said. I tried to turn it and it didn’t turn but I felt it let loose a little. We shared a look as I continued to twist and turn and then I pulled it to the side. To our surprise the back wall of the closet began to slide into the wall. She giggled in delight. We both stood up and gently pushed it all the way open.

We found ourselves stepping into a room that was surprisingly bright. The space was lit by skylights in the ceiling like most of the rooms on this floor. It was surprisingly clean and dust free. I guess it was sealed so tight that none of the dust that plagued the rest of the old house found its way in here. It looked like someone had just left. 

There was so much to take in. An oversized chair dominated one corner. It was covered in a bright floral pattern of pinks, yellows and greens mimicking the garden outside my bedroom window. A floor to ceiling shelf with a myriad of books covering all subjects was against the wall to its right side. A fountain pen rested on a beautifully embossed journal on the side table to its left. Beside that sat another comfortable chair upholstered in deep pink. The room was feminine but not in an overly fussy way. It was very inviting.

 An easel sat in the opposite corner with a painting of the stream that flowed though the property down by the waterfall. I had to look at it closely to see if it was a photograph, that’s how realistically the artist had captured it. The wildflower colors were created in exquisite detail. But the most outstanding detail were the flowers in the foreground. Gran and I looked at those flowers and exchanged a conspiritorial glance.

There was also a basket overflowing with yarns in every color of the rainbow and some multicolored squares already completed sitting on top waiting to be put together into a blanket. I imagined someone sitting the knitting needles down, not knowing they wouldn’t be back to finish what they started. Grandma and I each took a seat as we wordlessly took it all in. The secrets the room held were overpowering. Our senses were assaulted by the many details on display in this magical space. How did we live here all this time and not know of the existence of this beautiful hideaway? At the same time we both noticed the architectural drawing that lay on the slanted table near the easel. We exchanged no words but we both stood up and went to the blueprints. They were of this house!

“Gram? You never knew this was here? Who’s room was this?” 

“I have no idea! This house is over 200 years old. Its been in my family all that time. There have been so many changes and additions over the years, so many family members come and gone. Maybe this blueprint will help us to piece some things together. We studied it carefully for the longest time. Grams pink painted nail pointed to an area of the drawing. 

“Look, this is where we are! See this room? That’s your bedroom! And look, this is the room we’re in now!” We studied the plans carefully. We looked from room to room discovering that this space was not the only space that we hadn’t known about. The odd way the rooms were set up and the massive size of the house hid the fact that there were spaces that didn’t make sense, were unaccounted for and unnoticed. We had mysteries to solve. All because I had insisted on painting my room “Hydrangea Blue” just like the flowers in the painting we had found. The painting on the easel whose flowers in the foreground matched my room perfectly and would hang above my bed. Maybe it was a coincidence but I had a feeling there was some magic involved. I also had a feeling that there was much more we would discover. What a gem we had found and who didn’t love a little magic?