Hey guys! I know you all probably thought that I'D become a ghost, but I was in fact working. Let me just set a rumor straight, BEING A CAMP COUNCLER IS NOT AN EASY JOB! Not at all.
So, you've probably noted the new title, Angles and Demons. I decided that Ghost Stories, Phantoms, and Closet Skeletons was rather wordy and didn't sound like a ND/HD mystery. And if you remember, Ciel means sky or heaven in French, so that's where I got the idea. Let me know if you like this new title!
And, just FYI, that this story is set in summer of 2009. (1899 when the house was built, 110th anniversary… :D )
Love to my fearless readers and reviewers!
Nancy
For the first time in recorded history, I actually slept in later than Joe Hardy. Although the Hardys' were sleeping right down the hall, I still rolled around sleeplessly most of the night. It was nearly nine when I stumbled out of my room and towards the kitchen where the aroma of coffee, something burning, and the sound of voices rang out.
"-how hard is it to scramble a bunch of eggs?" Frank's semi-distressed voice cut through the noise in the kitchen.
"It's harder than it looks, Frank. If you think it looks so easy, why don't you-" there was a crash followed by a string of colorful curses as I rounded the corner.
Tied up in matching aprons, both boys were holding some sort of utensil and bowl. There was a tall, leaning stack of very brown pancakes on the dining room table with a big basket of fruit on the chair and a bowl full of eggshells sat in the sink. Various dirty pans were scattered across the counters and there was what looked like orange juice on the floor.
"Nancy. Umm, well. You're up," Frank said with bright red cheeks.
"Thanks for noticing," I said, eyeing the mess as I poured myself a cup of coffee. Which tasted surprisingly good, I always forgot that Joe made a mean brew.
"Surprise, we made you breakfast," Joe said unceremoniously, plunking down a plate full of pancakes, eggs, and what might have once been bacon, while glaring at his brother.
"And I mess I see. But it's really sweet of you two," I said, taking a big bite of the pancake. Doughy, uncooked pancake. Swallowing with a gulp, I ginned at the brothers, "Yum, they're delicious!"
As Joe and Frank sat down across from me with their own plates, I braved a bite of the bacon, which if it hadn't been black might have been fairly good.
Eating in silence until our plates were nearly empty. I finally shook myself out of my sleep-deprived stupor after draining my third cup of coffee, "So, what's our plan?"
Frank looked up, "I was thinking we should head to town, maybe do a little research on the house and the story Mr. Roy told us, talk to the locals."
"I think we should go through the house with a fine tooth comb," Joe piped up, "maybe somebody's looking for something that your dad's friend hid here."
I nodded, "And there's this lady that Mable was telling me about, Lucy Michaud, age one hundred and nine. Apparently, she's the oldest person in town and has lived here her entire life-"
"Wait, she's one hundred and nine?" Joe asked, snapping out of his food-focused daze.
I shrugged, "And apparently still as sharp as a tack."
"One hundred and nine?" Joe repeated.
"The oldest woman in the world lived to be one hundred and twenty-two," Frank pointed out helpfully.
Moving on, "Mable said she knows every story about everything that's ever gone on in this town. I think it would be good to talk to her."
Frank nodded thoughtfully, "Why don't we spilt up? You can talk to Lucy Michaud and anybody else you happen to run into, I'll head to the library, and Joe can check out the house."
"Why do I always have to search the house?" Joe whined.
"I'm not sure I want Joe going through my stuff," I said; mock glaring at Joe, who did his best to look indignant.
"I am deeply offended," He said, throwing back his chair and taking his stack of plates/utensils over to the sink. Apparently, he didn't mind raw pancakes and burnt bacon.
Also standing, I took Frank's plate from him as well as my own, "I can go through the house, Joe's better at flirting with old women than I am."
"I have never- Okay, I have. But never with anyone over one hundred," Joe said.
"That sounded incredibly dirty," Frank snickered. Joe's response was to make a rude gesture involving his middle finger.
Reaching out and slapping both brothers for good measure, I rolled my eyes, "You two are horrible. I'll go through the house, Frank will go to the library and historical society, and Joe will go talk to the locals. Now get going, we'll regroup here at one!"
Turning back to the sink with an air of finality, I filled up the sink to start the innumerable dishes.
After getting the kitchen back to my semi-OCD cleanliness standards, I took a basket of laundry back to my bedroom. Setting it on the bed, I surveyed the room. Most of the furniture had been bought locally and it was in the same position as I remembered from my childhood. Heading towards the front outside wall, I tapped my knuckles over every inch of it, pausing to move the dresser and check the drawers for anything that wasn't mine.
Finding nothing, I replaced the dresser and moved to the wall with the bed, window and two bedside tables. Moving in the same meticulous manner of before, I thoroughly searched the rest of the room and the closet before putting my laundry away and moving down the hallway.
As with the bedroom, the short hallway revealed nothing more unusual than a large dusty bunny. Heading to the bathroom, I checked inside the closet, tapping on all of the sides in search of a secret panel and crawled under the sink inside of the cabinet (and found a MASSVIE spider) in search of something important to no avail.
When I made it back to the hall closet, I finally stuck pay dirt. When I moved a heavy tackle box and an old fishing pole, I noticed a small hole in the back of the wall near the door.
Pushing all of my gear out of the way, I wiggled my shoulders under the bottom shelf to get closer to the hole. Tapping on the wall it definitely sounded hallow, so I carefully ran my hand over the back wall. I could feel seams in the wood that ran up behind the shelves. Standing back up, I jiggled the shelves, pulling them out one at a time.
As I dropped the final shelf behind me, I noticed that there were three more holes up the back of the closet that had been hidden by the shelves. Pressing on the panel did nothing, so I cautiously stuck my finger in the first hole. Pulling back, the panel popped forward and began to creak as it folded up to reveal a pitch-black interior.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" I asked aloud as I reached for the flashlight on the foyer table.
Clicking it on, I gingerly stuck my hand forward and peered into the darkness. At first, all I saw was cobwebs and dust. Stepping forward, I played my flashlight over the five by five space when my light caught something shiny in one of the corners. Stepping closer to the far corner, I leaned down, then leaped back with a startled gulp, "Oh my gosh!"
Because what had reflected my flashlight was a gold tooth. That was still attached to a very human skull.
Spinning around, I dropped my flashlight, which shattered below my feet and took one step towards the opening when suddenly there was a great howl like the ones from my dreams. Before I could move again, the panel slammed shut and I was left in total darkness.
Oh dear, Nancy's locked in a closet with a skull. That's a new one. Review please!
Love,
Striker
