BR13
Tristam Greendalch was ecstatic. He could not believe how well his life was going so far. It was 1929, the stock market just crashed, but Tristam was on top of the world. First, he would have to marvel at the job he obtained just two months and a week ago; then, he would have to think about the most amazing woman to ever enter his life; and now he had been invited to one of the oldest and grandest houses in all the city of New Orleans: Gracey Manor.
Tristam never really considered himself to be a lucky man until now. When he was born the April of 1910, he was immediately put up for adoption and when that didn't work out, he went straight to the orphanage. At first, he thought he was lucky when a rich, well-known family adopted him when he was 6. They seemed nice enough and told him that they'd get him a pony. When he got to their house, however, they instantaneously started using him as a servant. It wasn't too bad, for he got three square meals a day (when the house was clean) and a nice place to sleep in the attic. His room was hot in the summer and freezing in the winter; nothing deadly, though.
His luck turned again, when they mysteriously died. The police suspected a mob tactic until they found a suicide note. It seemed that they couldn't handle life anymore, so they decided to stab themselves the back 23 times each and both jump off a nearby bridge in burlap sacks. When the police interviewed him, he couldn't understand why anyone would want to harm such caring people, so the case was closed and, being their legally adopted son, he got their estate. That was a stroke of good luck.
His luck seemed better… until he realized that they had spent much of their fortune before dying. He was 10 years old and, therefore, couldn't get a job anywhere in town. He tried to get work at the bakery, the butcher, some inns, and even tried law enforcement, but no one would take him. His estate was quickly taken away with charges of tax evasion. But it was really more like "avoidance" in his eyes. He was homeless once again.
He wandered around the streets a while, eating out of garbage cans and the sort. He met a nice group of people who called themselves a gang. He soon became friends with many of them and was initiated into this gang and they got enough food to live off, but not enough to indulge in. He made a couple of mistakes, though, leading to a lot less popularity amongst the members and he quickly had to leave, for fear of bodily harm being placed upon him.
A few more unfortunate events happened to him: a couple times in jail, which he considered lucky because there could have been many more times he could have been in jail. He met a suave, smooth-talking lawyer at his recent visit to the dungeon by the name of Gracey. He was talking to some client, but Tristam soon got his attention. After a few minutes talking to him, Gracey seemed to think that Tristam had what it took to be a lawyer and quickly signed him up as an apprentice. This seemed like a really lucky move for him.
After his first week on the job, he had kept enough people from prison to buy his estate back. Also at that time he happened to notice a young woman about his age which was now 17. After asking a few questions, he found out that her name was Ophelia and she was the daughter of a nearby sea merchant.
On the next Sunday, he went down to the docks to try to catch a glimpse of her radiant beauty. What he was met with was an over-sized man with bad hygiene practices at a seaside tavern. After a couple guesses of the "secret password," which happened to be Moby Dick, he was allowed entrance to the sailor's pub. That is when he saw her; at the counter trying to shove the head of drunken merchant off the surface to clean it.
"Let me help you with that," Tristam offered, shoving the lifeless head out of the way. The previously unconscious man fell off his stool, landed on the ground, then jumped to his feet with unexpected life.
"Who's done — who's done dat?" the man inquired, raising his fists. Everyone in the bar, least Ophelia, pointed to Tristam. In a desperate attempt to save himself, he pointed his finger to the over-sized doorman who was still sitting next to the entrance, trying to figure out if Moby Dick was the captain or the first mate. Unfortunately, the merchant hadn't had enough to drink to believe Tristam's finger, so a fight quickly ensued. The merchant who's, evident by the crowd's cheering, name was Cadwallader, gave him many knock-out powered hits if it wasn't for love, or maybe it was adrenalin, backing up Tristam. Cadwallader beat him to a bloody pulp, but Ophelia was so touched by Tristam's lack of absconding from the fight that she gave him a pint "on the house." Cadwallader got a $4oo collection from the bets placed on the fight.
After many hours of talking, Tristam asked Ophelia to join him at his house for a cup of tea Tuesday afternoon. She cordially accepted. His life seemed to be going a bit better. He went home to address his many wounds.
On the next day, his employer, Master Gracey, informed him about a party he was hosting to celebrate the birthday of his in-house psychic on Saturday. It was a surprise party for her, which made Tristam wonder if it really was a surprise to her or if she wasn't really psychic, and was to be a formal affair with music and dancing and food. Tristam was allowed to bring one guest of his own and, with that, they bade each other good bye. It was at that moment that Tristam realized that he had never been to Master Gracey's estate and had no idea where it was. He quickly ran to catch up with his employer to gather this information.
That night he successfully confused a company of domestic servants when he inquired how much it would cost to receive the help of two or three for simply one day. Tristam was new to having money and didn't realize that servants were bought for a longer time period than one day. He was informed that they were bought for much longer and for the price that they wanted for one, he wouldn't have enough money to buy the tea.
He took a cab from his office to the general store. Then it hit him. The sign hanging above the entrance of the store broke loose. But an idea came to him as the cabby was searching for his wallet. Now, a normal person would probably think that the man was going to try to steal his money, but Tristam knew that this man was merely looking for some identification to inform some sort of authorities. The man had his wallet and was getting to his feet as Tristam thanked him. Then Tristan looked to the sky and gave thanks for the amazing idea that came to him like a brick (or rather much, a wooden sign). Grabbing his wallet back from the stunned cab-driver, Tristam told him of his epiphany and asked him if he'd like to make a few dollars.
The next day the cabby met him at his house at noon and they set upon his plan. As discussed the night before, the cabby brought his sister with him. They were dressed in the nicest clothes they could find, but they had just moved to Louisiana from England and could not bring much with them on the trip. Tristam showed his new friend to his wardrobe and told him to pick out a morning coat that would fit. Both, he and the cabby, were about the same size, so they didn't have much of a problem. For his sister, though, they would have to take a quick ride to town. They went to a tailor that Tristam had been recommended and came out with the cab driver's sister in a lovely summer dress.
They arrived back at his house shortly after one o'clock. Ophelia was planned to be there by two-thirty, so they had to work quick to get everything set up. Tristam pulled a table and two chairs out of the back shed, where they had been stored in the winter, and arranged them in the garden amongst the flowers which he held great pride in. The cabby's sister had started making tea as the cabby was dusting off some of the fine china. Tristam, realizing that he never inquired the cabby's name, took this time to get to know his accomplices.
Dustin, he discovered the cabby's name to be, was the oldest of his sister and a brother and they all came over after the war to start a new life. He obviously hadn't have heard of the depression hitting America hard. His sister was named Bea and she was quite a feminist. Tristam didn't know women could be so feminist, but, then again, he never really knew any women except for the gals at the orphanage who beat him for putting a frog in their soup which they could not get more of. That was the extent of his life with women. But Bea had been in all sorts of Women's rights and suffrage movements and she had a very strong spirit. Their brother, Asher, was another lawyer in the Gracey firm, he found out, and would be attending the party along with them.
Their discussion was cut short by a large knock at the door. Tristam quickly stood up, ready to get the door; however, it seemed that his new friends knew more about what servants were supposed to do, and Bea answered the door instead. She led Ophelia to the parlor that Tristam had cleaned before he went to bed the night before. Bea came back out and Tristam walked in. Radiance filled every breath Ophelia took as she sat in a chair with the sun gently casting its rays upon her, enhancing her beauty. She smiled at him and he had a loss for words. Her red hair seemed on fire under the sun's gaze. At this moment, Tristam wished he could paint, for he wanted to keep this moment for all eternity.
"Well," Ophelia spoke, breaking the silence, "aren't you going to sit down?"
"I thought we could enjoy our tea outside, in the garden," Tristam replied.
"Well, that's a lovely idea," her angelic voice ringed with joy.
He gave a quick tour of his house and then led her out the back door to the chairs and table he had previously set up. They sat down and Dustin began to pour the tea.
"The sun is mighty hot," Ophelia noticed.
"Dustin, could you go fetch the parasol for the table, please." A worried look came over Dustin as he had no idea where it was. Tristam motioned for Dustin to lean close to him and whispered in his ear, "It's in the shed beside the house." Dustin gave a quick nod of understanding and set off to perform his task. By that time, Bea had come out with a tray of freshly baked crumpets. Tristam started the conversation by asking a bit about Ophelia. He learned that her dad went out to trade with some far off country and wouldn't be back for another few weeks and her mother had died while giving birth to her. When she asked about his life, he told her the story of his parent's suicide, skipped the bit about losing the house and the gangs and jail, and told her of his fortune of meeting Master Gracey. Dustin returned with the parasol.
With the two English persons standing near them, Bea with her hands clasped in pure excitement for what she know he would ask, Tristam asked the woman of his dreams if she would mind accompanying him to the party Master Gracey was hosting. With sheer delight, she accepted. After a few more short conversation subjects from the new motion pictures to music, Ophelia bade good bye. Before she left, though, she inquired whether or not he knew how to dance. He saw a couple do something called the Charleston in a tavern once, but he didn't know how to do it, so he told her, "yes."
That night, with much help from Bea (and a little bit from Dustin, but that was just plain awkward), Tristam learned the waltz. Dustin offered to show him the Charleston, but he had to decline. He allowed them to keep the new clothes and they left. He went to bed happy.
The week went by quickly, but with great effort to from shouting for joy. Now, Friday afternoon, as he was practicing the waltz alone, in his room, a knock came at the door. Tristam wondered who it could possibly be, but no one in particular entered his mind. He quickly rushed to the foyer to receive his guest. He opened the door to the company of… no one. He stepped out side to look around, but no one was there. He stepped back inside, shut the door, scratched his head and thought. He heard the knocking again, but it wasn't coming from the door.
Tristam searched the house, following the sound. He stepped into the kitchen; it wasn't there. He stepped into the parlour; it wasn't there. His ear led him back to the foyer where the oak desk sat. What lay inside the desk, Tristam knew, was the invitation to Master Gracey's party and a letter-opener. He inched closer. With each step, the knocking became louder and more rapid. When he opened the drawer, after a moment of hesitation, the knocking stopped. The invitation and letter-opener sat, untouched. Silence filled the air like a thick perfume. He closed the drawer, wondering if the knocking would resume. It didn't. He stepped away, but the knocking did not continue.
"Stupid mice," he muttered to himself, "making all sorts of ruckus." With that, he went to bed. He had a big day tomorrow.
Tristam awoke early the next morning to the chime of the grandfather clock down the hall. He had a minor compulsion to count the chimes and this time he counted 5 of them. After showering, he fixed himself some bacon and eggs and prepared for the day ahead of him. He shaved, smoothed down his hair with a handful of gel, and put on a bit of cologne before pulling out his best suit. Complete joy filled him as he dressed and went out the door, into the bright sunny day at about three o'clock.
He left the house with a top hat and cane, objects which his adopted father once owned, and stepped into the taxi where Dustin and Bea were waiting for him. Another man was in the car. This man was shorter then Dustin and slightly familiar, for this man was, indeed, Asher, the brother of Dustin.
"'Ello," the man said, holding a bottle of whisky. "I believe you're the gent my siblings 'ave been talkin' about." He extended his free hand.
"That I am," Tristam said, shaking the man's hand. The conversation didn't further much more than that. Bea tried several times to start new conversations, but no one seemed in the mood to talk.
In about an hour, they arrived at Ophelia's house. She greeted him at the door in a magnificent orange ballroom gown, making her beauty ever more radiant. He escorted her to the vehicle and opened the car door for her. They, then, headed to the Gracey estate. Tristam had to leave his house at noon because it took an hour to go across the city to Ophelia's house, then it took 2 hours of driving to get to George Gracey's property, which was pretty far out of New Orleans.
Ophelia and Bea had no problems talking during the ride, but they were alone in that activity. Dustin was a devout driver and wanted all of his attention directed towards driving; Asher was too busy seeing how much alcohol he could consume in two hours; and Tristam simply didn't feel like talking. The weather seemed to degrade the further they went from the city. The sun began to hide behind ominous clouds and the clouds seemed to grow increasingly darker. By the time they reached the gate of Gracey Manor, it had begun raining. The old, antebellum mansion with wrought iron, wrap-around deck stood solemnly near the bank of the Mississippi.
The group of party guests ran from their car to the front door of the mansion, Ophelia and Bea giggling about something they had been talking about, and knocked on the large, oak doors. An old, scary albino man greeted them.
"Good evening," Tristam greeted, "We're here for the—" He was interrupted by Asher who said, "'Ello," as he walked past the butler. "Good evening, Mr. Greendalch. We've been expecting you." He ushered Tristam and company into the foyer, "And hello again, Asher." he added coolly. Master Gracey entered the foyer at this time: "I'll take it from here, Ramsley." He turned towards his guests. "I'd like to show you the house a bit before entering the Grand Hallway," He said while opening a pair of pocket doors, which revealed an octagon gallery. "Our tour begins here, in this gallery, where you see paintings of some of my other guests as gifts to me." He closed the doors after they all had entered. "Consider this dismaying observation; this chamber has no windows and no doors." Indeed, the doors looked as if they were simply wall panels. If one had awaken in here with no idea of how they arrived at such a place, one might believe what Master Gracey had told them. "I simply love how this chamber looks when both doors are closed. But," George walked to the other side of the room and opened another set of doors. "We must press on. I have other guests, too, you know." They entered a portrait gallery. Five magnificent portraits hung on the wall to the right of them, four large windows lined the left wall, and two busts faced them on the opposite wall. "Here is a piece of art of the fabled Grecian lady before she was turned into gorgon, and here is a lovely portrait of a lady reclining on a couch, and this is a portrait of the original owner's ship which was lost in a sea storm, and this one," He paused for a moment to gaze upon the female in the picture, "This picture is of divine Miss April. Now," he said with revived energy, "carry on."
They turned the corner of the hall to enter a quaint sitting room with stairs to the second floor. "We can tour the upstairs later, but now for the party." He walked across the room to two large doors. With his back to the doors, he gave a smug grin, "Welcome, my guests, to Gracey Manor." He exclaimed as he pushed the doors open, revealing the grand hallway, buzzing with activity.
On the far end of the room sat a large pipe organ with a musician tapping away at the keys. Dancers glided around in a waltz and closer to them was a large dining table with 13 chairs. Both Tristam and Ophelia gasped in amazement; Dustin and Bea seemed to have already been there, yet were still awestruck by the beauty of the room; and Asher quickly set to finding some wine to indulge upon.
"This is beautiful," Ophelia complimented George. He stood there, accepting the compliment with aristocratic suaveness.
"It was this room which finally persuaded me to buy this mansion," he explained.
"I can understand why," she said. Tristam made his way to the table, which had delectable foods of all sorts. Before he reached it, though, Ophelia grabbed him by the arm. "Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" she inquired, nudging him in the side.
Longing for something to eat, yet not wanting to ruin the night, he replied, "Of course I am. That's why I pulled you away from Master Gracey." Without giving her chance to respond, he added, "May I have this dance?" The two strolled to the ballroom section of the grand hall, where the chairs and tables had been pushed up against the wall, and began their waltz.
Within 15 minutes, they stopped dancing. He heard a grandfather clock chime from the second floor through sounds of the party. He counted the chimes and received the number 11. They took a couple of seats at the dining table next to an older lady with red hair. "Bonjour," she greeted them, "And how are you enjoying my party?"
"You must be Madame Leota," Tristam replied.
"Oh no, no, no. I am Victoria." she explained, "I arranged this party. No one enjoys a good party like me."
"Ah," Tristam said in understanding, "Then where is the guest of honor?"
"She should be here any minute now. Georgie just went to fetch her."
"Georgie?" Ophelia giggled.
"Oh, yes. My nephew, George." At that moment, doors burst open to the balcony on the second floor. An old lady leaned upon the rails. If Tristam had to guess, he'd suppose her to be a gypsy by the odd dress she wore and eccentric beads and charms.
"Foolish Mortals!" she cried, "How many times do I have to tell you that today is not my birthday and I hate your stupid parties! Don't you people have respect for the dead! Heed this warning: if you don't leave now, you are all going to die."
"Of course we're going to die," someone shouted, "That's the nature of being human; we all have to die eventually."
Tristam leaned towards Victoria, "What does she mean, it's not her birthday. Why, then, are we here." The gypsy, who was Madame Leota, returned through the doors, slamming them shut in anger of the "someone's" outburst.
"Well, she never did tell Georgie her birthday, so he always just had it on the day they met. I wouldn't let a little ol' something like her not wanting to join the festivities ruin a perfectly good party."
"And what about that bit about respect for the dead?" Ophelia inquired.
"Oh, that? Leota always has her silly little séances about this time. I wouldn't worry about a thing she says." With that, the party continued. Bea, Dustin, and Asher all left, in hopes of leaving before the road flooded and they'd have to stay the night. The rest of the people continued dancing, eating, and playing party games. Tristam joined in many of the games, danced to many of the songs, and ate a bit of food. The cake was brought out and the candles lit. People gathered around, waiting for Leota to come and blow them out. George was having a hard time coaxing her from her séance parlour. Tristam heard the grandfather clock again. All of the voices and noises seemed to fade as he counted the chimes.
1… 2… "Well, if she isn't going to come out here and blow out the candles herself." Victoria said 3… 4… "You can't say that about my mother!" A man on the balcony cried. 5… "And why not?" his opponent responded. 6… "She's your mother, too!" replied the first quarreler. 6… "Oh, then I challenge you to a duel." 7… "I'll just have to blow them out my self." 8… Victoria leaned over the table 9… she took a deep breath 10… "One." 11… "Two." 12… Victoria blew out the candles. "Three." 13! Shots were fired and people screamed.
The lights on the chandelier began to flicker. The shutters on the large windows slammed shut one by one. Doors also slammed shut, one slamming a person's fingers in it. Those who were previously dancing that night returned to the dance floor, although they obviously didn't want to. Tristam and Ophelia were one of them. Music came out of the organ once again as the organist pounded on the keys, one could tell by the expression on his face that he was trying not to. The utensils on the dining table, including the knife used to cut the cake, began to float and search for victims. Those who tried to climb the balcony stairs were killed, those vainly clawing at the un-opening doors were killed, and those who tried to break through the ballroom windows were killed by these flying utensils. Tristam tried as hard as he could not to dance, but his feet would not obey him.
His head swung wildly from left to right, up and down, trying to find some sort of hope in this situation. What his eye did catch, though, was the figure of Madame Leota on the balcony laughing. That was his last sight alive. He collapsed from exhaustion a second later. The continuous dancing had taken its toll on him. He fell to the floor amongst the countless other deceased party guests and family members. Eventually, everyone had died, Ophelia fell next to him and the organ had toppled over and crushed the musician along with a couple others. Many of the people who sat at the dining table had been impaled by countless objects. Madam Leota returned to her séance parlour, pleased with another night's work.
The characters of Dustin, Bea, and Asher are the creative genius of Aquarian Wolf and are featured in her fabulous novel, Destiny and the Haunted Mansion ( Special thanks go to Aquarian Wolf for letting me use these characters and editing along with Centaur Man.