Specter~Chapter 4
Quinn flew into the Portland Municipal Airport the day after Memorial Day. The estate had sent her a round-trip ticket for her flight. At the airport, she'd meet Ms. Pillsbury who would drive them to the estate in Battenfield. Noah had made an attempt to see her the night before she left for her flight. At her door, she told him that she thought it was best if they were just friends and nothing else. She didn't want him to feel tied down over the summer (she already knew that that wouldn't happen; the guy was like a dog in heat always), but she said it anyway to not bruise his ego. He shrugged, said whatever, and was gone. She closed her door and finished packing, trying not to think of him.
It was hard for her to sleep the night before she left. Her dreams were disjointed and odd. Occasionally that happened when she was facing a stressful situation. She had, of course, been doing research on the estate and had a good idea of what it looked like so it showed up in her dreams that night. She was anxious to see the inside and learn more about it and the people who had lived there. She wanted to learn more about Arthur Abrams...what was his story? The thought of being there by herself at night was playing at her mind, but she kept telling herself that Ms. Pillsbury assured her of the state-of-the-art security system. Still, the horror movie thoughts would not leave her alone. She would not have a car to drive; the town was so small and so close she could ride a bicycle if she chose to or walk.
She watched the scenery pass under her as she flew northward, less skyscrapers and more trees. The plane was a small jet, only a handful of passengers, so she thought about what she might learn during this internship. She definitely wanted lots of pictures of the architecture; the structure intrigued her and she couldn't wait to see it up close. She would have the chance to work on her researching skills. She planned to treat the belongings of the people who had lived and died there with the utmost respect and hopefully provide some answers to family members. She would be handling items that had meant the world to those people at one time. To say this was an opportunity of a lifetime was an understatement, she thought, especially at this point in her life.
The plane making its descent jarred her out of her thoughts. She watched as they bumped along the runway and slowed to a crawl, then a stop. She yawned to pop her ears, then unbuckled herself, ready to start her adventure.
The airport was small; they disembarked from the plane right on the tarmac and walked a few feet to the terminal. Quinn slipped her carry-on bag over her arm with her purse and followed the others inside, looking for Ms. Pillsbury.
As it turned out, Ms. Pillsbury was totally easy to find. She was holding a sign that said Quinn M and was slightly bouncing up and down, a huge grin plastered on her face. She had hair the color of copper, straight and falling to her shoulders, a petite frame, and giant hazel eyes. She was dressed in a smart mint green suit and white blouse, the skirt falling to just below her knees.
"Ms. Pillsbury?" Quinn asked, approaching her and reaching out to shake her hand.
"That's me! Welcome!"
"Hi," Quinn said, laughing a bit at how animated this tiny woman was. "Thanks for meeting me here."
"My absolute pleasure. First of all, call me Emma. Ms. Pillsbury is way too formal," Emma said. They began walking through the terminal. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
"Um, I think I'll stop in the restroom. You said it's about an hour's drive, right?" Quinn asked. Emma nodded.
"I'll grab us a couple bottles of water for the ride to the estate," Emma said, scurrying off to a vendor.
Quinn found the ladies room and finally let go of the breath she had been holding. She liked this Emma lady right off the bat.
She retrieved her two bags from the luggage carousel and followed Emma to the parking lot. She nearly dropped all her luggage when she saw the car Emma walked up to.
"Is that…wow! Is that what I think it is?" Quinn asked, astonished.
Emma beamed with pride. "It is…a '37 Rolls Royce Phantom, donated to the estate by my great-uncle who resided there at one time." She opened the two suicide doors for Quinn to place her luggage in the back. "He stipulated in his will that he wanted the Abrams Estate to have a vehicle worthy enough to be parked there."
The car was a deep navy blue with white accents and chrome. Quinn went to the passenger side and climbed in. The leather seats were fawn colored and supple, possibly the most luxurious thing she had ever sat upon. She stared at all of the dials and meters on the dash as Emma got behind the wheel, pulling white leather driving gloves on.
"Original black walnut…beautiful, isn't it?" Emma said, noticing Quinn staring at the polished dashboard.
"Stunning…" Quinn replied. "So your great-uncle…Pillsbury…was he…?"
Emma finished her thought. "Yep, he was of the Pillsbury dough fame. His father, my great-great-grandfather, actually founded the company."
Emma was clearly proud of her heritage.
"That's awesome! It must be neat for you to be able to work where your great-uncle once lived," Quinn said to her.
Emma nodded and smiled. "It's my dream job."
The car purred to life. They began moving and Quinn couldn't even hear the engine of the classy vehicle. Soon, the scenery of the drive to Battenfield pulled Quinn's attention from the rich interior of the Phantom. She had never seen trees so tall, not even in Virginia. They were already in full bloom and thick with green leaves.
"It's such a scenic drive, this way to Battenfield," Emma said, again noticing what Quinn was staring at. "Instead of the drab highway, I thought you'd enjoy this route."
"I do, thank you Emma," Quinn replied, smiling.
Strangely, she felt familiar in Maine, at home.
xxxxx
They drove along with the windows of the car down for awhile. Quinn found the temperature to be perfect and let her hand fall from the window and be carried on the breeze.
"I suppose you'd like to know more about the estate...am I right?" Emma asked her, breaking the silence.
Quinn turned to her. "Very much so."
Emma rolled up the windows and turned on some cool air in the car.
"This is what we know...a man named Arthur Abrams had the home built in approximately 1860. He had the stones brought in from the rock outcroppings at the coastline. He was a lifelong resident of Battenfield and the rumor was his consort was a woman named Rachel Berry. He had the home built for her on the bluff overlooking the ocean. She lost her first love in a tragic shipwreck in 1852; the ship wrecked into the very rocks used to build this home. Abrams himself was not a sailor; he became a ship building magnate of the time and that's where he made his money."
"So, his estate, he had Rachel live there with him but they never married?" Quinn asked.
"This is correct. Of course, Rachel wasn't the only person living there. He wouldn't turn away anyone who needed a home," Emma told her. "That's how it got to be known as an 'old folk's home'. As more people needed someplace to live, he just kept adding on to the structure."
"Exactly how large is this home?"
"The closest measurement has been fifteen thousand square feet, not counting the basement," Emma said, laughing as Quinn's eyes got huge. "The basement itself is another five thousand square feet. The upper two floors are renovated but closed off for now. The ground floor will eventually be open for tours. The second floor is where you'll be staying, in Mr. Abrams' suite of rooms."
"How many rooms are there?"
"The ground floor and second floor are quite spacious. The third and fourth floors are mainly dormitory style, many small rooms to accommodate the people who lived there. Of course, after Mr. Abrams' passed and the town took over the estate, it was used as a poor folk's home, then it fell into disrepair after the Great Depression," Emma said. "The basement is where belongings were stored once someone died."
Quinn sat there considering this. Five thousand square feet of dead people's stuff. She definitely had her work cut out for her.
"Well, I've always loved a good challenge!" she said to Emma.
Emma considered telling her about the strange occurrences at the home but decided not to. If she was lucky, the spirits would leave Quinn alone.
xxxxx
They passed a worn sign stating Welcome to Battenfield! and shortly thereafter Emma slowed the car to make a right-hand turn into a drive that Quinn had not even noticed. Suddenly, they were in the shadows of a thick forest, tall oak trees and centuries-old pine trees and sycamores, on a curving lane, the branches creating a leafy canopy over the drive. Interspersed alongside the road were old-fashioned light posts, not yet turned on since it was still daylight out.
"The estate is about a mile off the main road," Emma said as she drove slowly down the lane. "Mr. Abrams did enjoy his privacy from the rest of the world."
No doubt, Quinn thought, watching the forest enclose them as they drove farther away from the main road. Emma went on to tell her that a bike ride from the estate to town only took approximately 15 minutes.
"As much as it would be a nice place to take a walk," Emma began, "with the lights, there are still a lot of native wild animals out and about in these woods...deer, raccoon, an occasional coyote..."
"I think I'll stay close to the estate at night," Quinn chuckled.
Within a few minutes, Emma pulled the car around a curve, crossed an ages old stone bridge, and there was the giant stone home, looming before them. It was hard for Quinn not to stare at the structure with her mouth agape. She had never dreamed it'd be so large when seeing it in person. Outwardly, because of all the stonework she thought, it struck her as a cold building. There were odd turrets jutting from the top and windows of varying height and location all around the building. When she finally could tear her eyes away from it, she was astounded by the grounds surrounding it. The lawns were luscious, tasteful beautiful flower gardens everywhere she looked. She picked up the scent of honeysuckle, her favorite.
When Emma parked the car under a stone-covered drive at the side of the house, Quinn stepped out and walked to the back of the car, looking out over the bluff the house sat upon, and out to the swift-moving deep blue water. Emma joined her at the rear of the car.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked Quinn quietly.
"It is..." Quinn said, her voice dreamy. She looked around the grounds again, then back up at the estate, and just couldn't shake the feeling that she had been there before.
xxxxx
"I see you made it! Welcome to the Abrams Estate!" a male voice boomed behind her cheerfully. Quinn turned on her heel, more than a bit shocked, to be eye to eye with a thin man with short curly light brown hair and a big smile. He stuck his hand out excitedly, and she shook it, him pumping their handshake up and down.
"Quinn Miller, this is Will Schuester, the estate's most wonderful chef and gardener," Emma introduced them. "Will, Quinn Miller."
Quinn thought she caught them sharing a quick glance but smiled at Will. "Hello there, Mr.-"
"Oh, no no no! Call me Will!" he said happily. He finally freed her hand and pulled her bags from the back seat of the car. "I hope you had a nice trip from Virginia. The drive here from Portland is wonderful, in my opinion. I hope Emma took you the back way." He chuckled and led them into the side door of the estate from where he had come. "You must let me know what you like to eat and don't like to eat, any allergies, what time you eat, those kind of things...I'm on the premises from sun up to sun down...I'm totally at your service in the kitchen!"
That man is full of boundless energy, Quinn thought.
"Thank you, um, Will...I appreciate it. The gardens are beautiful," she said, still taking them in. He nodded at her in appreciation.
"We can discuss meals later, Will. I'd like to show Quinn around a bit and let her get settled in the suite," Emma said, placing her hand lightly on Will's upper arm.
"Of course...silly me! I do hope you enjoy your stay, Miss Miller," Will said.
"Please, call me Quinn," she replied.
"Sure, Quinn, well, come on in!" Will said, holding open a heavy oaken door.
They entered a fairly large side foyer that was off the huge kitchen. The kitchen retained its original appearance but had obviously been refitted with top-of-the-line equipment. Most impressive was the humongous fireplace stretching nearly the entire width of the kitchen at the back wall.
"That is one impressive fireplace!" Quinn exclaimed. "Is it working?"
"Ayuh...I usually only fire it up in the wintertime, though, too hot right now," Will told her.
From the kitchen, they passed a pantry, roughly the size of her apartment, then through a butler's pantry, and then were in the formal dining room.
"You can take your meals in here or, if you'd rather, there is a more cozy breakfast nook that includes a balcony from where you can overlook the waters," Emma said, pointing out a curving staircase at one end of the massive dining room. "Will and I usually just eat in the kitchen." Quinn had not even noticed the stone stairwell there as it all blended in perfectly. Above them, there were navy blue velvet drapes pulled closed to what must be the breakfast nook. From the dining room, they stopped in the grand foyer.
Will and Emma watched in silence as Quinn turned around slowly, taking in the grandeur, her mouth again fallen open. The front doors were again oaken and stretched to the top of the foyer. There was leaded glass with hints of blue and green inlaid in both doors and an old-fashioned door ringer running up alongside them. The tile of the floor in the entrance-way was different hues of blue, green, shiny silver, some white, picking up the light coming in through the front doors, laid out in an indistinct pattern. The oak doors to the dining room were French doors and there was a matching set on the other side of the foyer. The staircase was like nothing she had ever seen, at least up close and personal. It was a double staircase, winding and curving upward to the next floor, the steps laid with tile all the way up, a black carpet running down the center on each side. A large foyer table was placed in between the two staircases, a table as large as her parent's dinner table. This table held a massive blue, green, and white vase, full of fresh-cut flowers.
"Mr. Abrams had all the tile and window glass imported. He always had a vase of fresh flowers on the table; he would choose the flowers himself every morning and arrange them," Emma said. "Now, Will does that duty."
"This is utterly gorgeous," Quinn said, almost reverently.
"Thank you. Shall we?" Emma said, directing her to the next set of French doors. "This was the front salon, where Mr. Abrams would entertain guests of the estate."
She pulled open the doors to reveal a large room, much like a parlor, full of the fanciest period furniture. The walls had built-in shelves to house a myriad of unique trinkets.
"Some of this is original to the estate," Emma said, motioning toward the furniture. "Other pieces we had to add from his description of the salon. Everything on the shelves, however, was his." Emma was very proud of this, Quinn could tell.
"Quinn, are you at all hungry? I could prepare you a late lunch if you'd like," Will asked her.
"Thank you, that'd be wonderful. Nothing fancy, please. I'm not picky," she replied, smiling.
"Very well. Emma will show you the bell ringer in your suite, just ring to let me know when you are on your way down so I can prepare your setting," he said, leaving the salon.
"He's an excellent chef; we're lucky to have him here," Emma told Quinn as they walked back to the foyer. "Now to the back salon…"
They entered another pair of French doors located in the shadows of the staircase and they were in an L-shaped room. This room was definitely more casual than the front salon. There was another large stone fireplace, a billiards table, and other scattered tables about. One section of the room was obviously a library area, the walls there lined with books. Where the room hooked, it ran the entire back of the house and that wall was basically all windows, giving Quinn a wondrous view of the back of the estate. There was some yard and gardens, then the forest. A set of leaded glass doors opened onto a covered patio, covered in the same tiles as the grand foyer.
"All of the wood in the house is oak, felled by trees on the grounds," Emma told her. "This area was for the residents here, a common area if you will."
"This is lovely. He must've been a very generous man," Quinn said. "And I take it he liked blues and greens!"
"He did! He was quoted once as saying it was his way of bringing the waters indoors. He was very well-liked, for sure," Emma answered. "Let me show you to your suite and you may have your lunch. After lunch, I'll introduce you to the basement and all those treasures!"
"Great! I'm ready to dig in," Quinn said, following her out of the back salon behind the staircases.
"A little surprise back here…" Emma said, pressing a button on the wall. A wooden like door slid open, revealing an elevator.
"Wow…is this original?" Quinn asked, laughing.
"Oh no, the estate had it added to make the home more handicapped accessible," Emma said, making room for Quinn and then pushed a button inside.
The elevator carried them to the second floor and opened just outside the Abrams suite where Will had left Quinn's luggage. The suite of rooms was located directly above the dining room and kitchen. And when Emma said a suite of rooms, she wasn't joking.
They entered through double oak doors and were in a sitting room. Moving toward the bedroom, they passed through a passageway with the bathroom on one side and a walk-in wardrobe on the other side and then were in the expansive bedroom. Quinn had never seen a bed as large as the one before her. The room was decorated in blues and whites and the bedroom was at the front of the house with a curving staircase, much like the one in the dining room, leading up to one of the turrets, that opened out to a small balcony overlooking the Atlantic. There was a dresser, two night stands, two arm chairs, a desk, and, of course, a flat-screen TV.
"He did not spare on his luxury," Emma said. "The bed was custom made for him. Of course, the mattress and bedding are all new, as is the TV. Hopefully, you can find rest and relaxation here when we're not working."
"I'm just speechless, Emma. This is such a wonderful opportunity, and I thank you for choosing me," Quinn said.
"I'm sure there is a lot here for you to learn. You just seemed like the perfect fit," Emma said, giggling a little.
"Thank you again."
"Oh…here is the bell ringer," Emma said, walking up next to the bed and tugging on a dark blue velvet rope. Faintly, Quinn heard a bell ring downstairs. "Well, I'll let you be to unpack. I'll be in the kitchen having a bite to eat. After lunch, we can trek down to the basement!"
Quinn thought Emma sounded almost too excited about the basement but smiled. This was what she was there for.
Downstairs, Emma met Will in the kitchen.
"I think she likes it," she said to him.
"Our friends didn't make any appearances?" he asked her, referring to the spirits they were pretty sure haunted the estate.
"Not yet. I wouldn't be surprised if in the next day or so they realize she's here," Emma said, taking her salad and sandwich to the table in the kitchen.
Listening to their conversation, not yet pulling any pranks on them, Finn rolled his eyes and made a face. He had been bored that day and couldn't find Sam so he decided to have some fun at Artie's old place. He was waiting for an opportunity to move something on its own when he overheard Will and Emma talking about someone new.
"I'm all settled in!" he heard a cheerful voice say from behind him. He turned to check out this new person and about made a ghostly noise from the shock of seeing such a familiar face. She passed right through him without realizing it and sat down with Will and Emma.
xxxxx
On the other side of the world, wandering about Honolulu and enjoying the view of the scantily clad ladies, Sam was shaken out of his haze when Finn appeared.
"Wow…where are all their clothes?" Finn asked him, also gawking at the girls.
"I dunno…things sure have changed," Sam replied.
"You are the hardest spook to find, Sam! Oh! You'll never ever in a quadrillion light years guess who I just saw!" Finn said, grabbing Sam's shoulders.
Sam waited, then rolled his eyes. "Okay, who?"
Finn paused a moment, a dramatic pause he thought.
"Lucinda! On Earth! She's a human!"
A/N: First of all, I'm basing the estate on the Gillette Castle...go Google it to get a better idea of what I'm describing. Secondly, I known nothing of the Pillsbury dough history. I just thought why not have Emma be connected to that? I love fiction! :-)
