The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion (10 page)

“Whoa. What’s going on here?” Earl said,
entering the room with his partner.

Mary looked up, startled and clutching a
piece of the wall in her hand. “Nothing. I thought I heard
something.”

“You leave the busy work to us, Mrs.
Malone,” Earl said. “Pete and I have this.”

His partner, Pete, set a small cage next to
the wall as Earl set down his toolbox. He knelt by the hole and
asked Mary politely if she could give him some room. She stood up
and backed away with the intent to watch them chip away at the
hole, piece by piece.

Earl held the crowbar in hand and then
turned to Mary with uncertainty. “You sure your husband is okay
with this?”

She felt taken aback by the question and
simply narrowed her eyes in response.

Earl stuttered nervously. “I-It’s just. He’s
the one who called us out here and all.”

“Yeah, no offense,” Pete added.

Mary crossed her arms. “It’s quite all
right,” she said. “My husband doesn’t mind, nor do I.”

Earl nodded with a gapped-tooth grin and
then turned back to the wall. He stuck the crowbar in the wall and
pushed against it like taking off a hubcap. A big chunk flew out as
Earl fell back, regaining his balance. The hole was nearly large
enough for him to put his head through, but he kept going, chipping
away piece by piece. Heard the front door open and shot, and looked
nervously to the side. Although she had assured them that Curtis
was fine with everything, she had her doubts he would be happy once
he saw what they were doing. Something was in the wall. Something
beyond a raccoon or rodent, and she had to get to the bottom of
it.

Satisfied, Earl set the crowbar on the
ground and held up his long steel flashlight. Mary walked closer as
he turned the light on and scanned the inside of the wall.

“Yep…” he said nodding. “Just like a
thought. She’s got babies.”

“How do you know?” Mary said, hovering over
his shoulder.

Earl scratched his face. “There’re droppings
everywhere.” He was leaned over, head halfway in the wall, shining
his flashlight inside and blocking Mary’s view. She half expected
the vicious raccoon to come spiraling out of the hole to attack
them. If anything, it was probably sleeping. “Hello, what’s this?”
Earl said, reaching down. He backed out of the hole holding a dusty
booklet of some kind. Mary was instantly intrigued. He shook the
dust and bits of wall from the book and held it up for everyone to
see. “Looks like someone lost their book in there.”

“Can raccoons read?” Pete said with a
laugh.

Mary extended her arm to take the book as
Earl reluctantly handed it to her. It was extremely dusty, despite
him shaking it off. Mary carefully examined the leather-bound cover
with a draw string tying it shut. It was small but thick. The pages
looked warped and dry. She had no clue what to make of it.

“Let’s see what else we got in here,” Earl
said, looking back in the hole. He shined his flashlight around as
Mary’s felt along the book’s rough edges.

She was hesitant to open it as it seemed so
fragile, she didn’t want it to vanquish into dust. Though her deep
curiosity got the best of her. She turned from the men and gently
untied the tattered, thin rope binding the book together. As the
rope came undone, she slowly opened both sides of the book,
directly down the middle. There was tiny, faded cursive handwriting
all across both pages, barely legible. Mary held it closer, trying
to read the words.

Tuesday, May 20, Today father said that we
have to all put on a good face at lunch with the future in-laws.
His words not mine. I’m so sick of putting a good face around here
when they keep me locked in my room half the time. I got a record
player for my birthday, but they won’t even let me play half the
time. Mother says that my music is too loud and distracting.

Mary lowered the book in deep concentration.
Earl had discovered a diary of some sort, and the raccoon had led
them straight to it. What was it doing inside the wall, and it just
how old was it? She ruminated over these questions has her a
delicate piece of history rested in her hands. She looked over to
Earl as his continued scanning the inside of the wall with his
flashlight.

“
See anything else?” she
asked.

Earl grunted and then spoke. “Nah. Just a
bunch more raccoon droppings. Might even have some rats down here
too.”

“
Just wonderful,” Mary said with a
sigh.

Earl leaned back from the wall and turned
toward her, face covered in dust. “I’ll leave a trail of pellets
leading to the trap. Lure the mother out come feeding time.” He
then paused, thinking to himself. “Course, we may have to put a
fogger in there for the babies.”

“
You mean kill them?” Mary
asked.

“
Yep,” Earl said,
matter-of-fact.

She didn’t like the idea, but they were the
professionals. Raccoons had no place in their walls, regardless of
age. She flipped to another page in the book, almost on instinct
and began reading.

In trouble today. Mother found out I’ve been
taking scraps of food and feeding raccoons in the backyard. She
told Father and he told Lawrence, our groundskeeper to kill any
‘rodents’ he see on site. Those raccoons are they only friends I
have left and they won’t even let me have that. I need to get out
of this house. I need to get away. Need to get away before it’s too
late.

Mary raised her head and nearly dropped the
book. Her mind went right back to the night before when she had
encountered the raccoon. She remembered its yellow eyes, dripping
fangs, but had no idea what connection it had with the girl’s
writings.

“
That was no normal raccoon,” she said
out loud.

“
What was that, Mrs. Malone?” Pete
asked.

She turned to see both Earl and Pete looking
at her. “Nothing… You gentlemen do what you have to do. I have to
make a phone call.” She excused herself from the room and went
right toward the stairs, clutching the book and rushing up the
steps to evade being seen, though she couldn’t understand why.

She fled into the master bedroom, still
unsure of why her need for utmost secrecy, and closed the door. The
diary would make a good addition to the books and newspapers she
had already acquired, and beyond those references, she felt that
the most definitive view into the family’s history could in fact be
the words of a young girl.

She went to the bed and sat, prepared to
read the diary in one sitting. She turned the pages carefully and
saw that some of them were so deteriorated that she couldn’t read
the writing no matter how hard she tried.

Is there a way to restore
a book?
she wondered.

She then turned back to the very first page.
The ink had smeared almost entirely, but she was able to read
mid-sentence as it carried on to the next page.

…said that we had to. They’re so demanding.
They gave me a diary for my birthday just like I asked, but they
also wouldn’t let me have any friends over. They’re so protective
that it’s driving me crazy. Happy birthday to me, I guess.

A knock suddenly came at the door as Mary’s
head jolted up.

“Mary, you in there?” Curtis asked from
outside.

“It’s open,” she said, tucking the diary
under the sheets.

Curtis walked in, reddened from the sun and
sweaty. “You all right in here?”

“Yeah,” she said without hesitance.

“The pest control guys said you took off in
a hurry. I told them to go easy on the wall. I don’t think we have
to tear this place apart to flush a couple rodents out.”

“I agree,” Mary said. She tried to put on
her best face with hope that Curtis would be satisfied enough and
go back to whatever it was he was doing, but he persisted.

“They said they found an old book. What’s
with that?”

Mary waved him off. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” he said, walking forward.

“These old walls,” Mary said. “You never
know what you’ll find. I tried to read it, but the pages are all
washed out.”

Curtis went to his dresser and grabbed a
pair of sunglasses, seemingly no longer interested. “That’s a
shame.” He then stopped and spun around. “You’ll never believe who
stopped by.”

“Who?” Mary asked.

“Pastor Phil. He brought a welcome basket
for us. Can you believe it?”

“Wow, that’s nice,” she said, rocking back
and forth on in the bed.

“I told him that’d you come down and say
hello,” Curtis continued.

Great
, she
thought.

Curtis walked to the door whistling and told
Mary to come down when she was ready. As he closed the door behind
him, Mary pondered the arrival of their new guest. He seemed
awfully interested in making their acquaintance. Maybe he was just
a really nice guy. However, her instincts told her differently.

She wondered if she should mention the diary
to the Pastor. He seemed familiar enough with the Bechdels, and she
knew from the newspaper that he was a Pastor of the same church
before the family was slaughtered. She’d have to see if he was on
the up and up first. Then maybe he could provide her some answers
in the unending mystery before her.

She walked down the hall to the
stairwell and looked down to see the top of Pastor Phil’s white
hair as he chatted with Curtis with his back turned toward her. He
wasn’t wearing a suit this time, he was dressed more casual in
checkered short-sleeved button-down shirt and tan Dockers. He
pivoted on his heels while laughing along with whatever Curtis was
telling him. In his hands he still held a basket of fruit with
plastic wrapping over it.
The Redwood
welcome wagon in the flesh.

She slowly descended the stairs as Curtis
looked up at her, causing Pastor Phil to turn and smile at her
approach.

“There she is,” Curtis said.

Phil nodded as she reached the bottom,
holding the basket out to her. “Good morning, Mrs. Malone. A
pleasure to see you again.”

“Hello,” she said, unsure how to address
him. He hadn’t told her his last name, but he sure seemed to know
theirs.

“A welcoming gift from our church,” he said,
basket still out.

Mary smiled and took the basket in both
hands. “You shouldn’t have.” She paused, feeling the plastic
crinkle in her hands. “That’s very thoughtful of your church. Thank
you.”

“When was the last time someone ever gave us
a welcome basket?” Curtis asked with a laugh.

Phil waved him off, feigning modesty. “Ah.
It’s nothing. We just like to make our neighbors feel at home.”

Mary turned and set the basket on a nearby
nightstand at the end of the staircase. She thanked him again,
noticing his eyes wander around the grand foyer surrounding them,
boxes, furniture and all.

“Just a beautiful mansion,” he said.

“Still have a ways to go,” Curtis said. His
demeanor suddenly changed as he looked at his wrist watch. “Oh, and
I gotta get back to work. Thanks again, Pastor.”

They shook hands as Curtis waved to Mary and
hurried out the door. As much as she wanted to probe the Pastor,
she wondered why Curtis had called her down only to quickly abscond
to the front.

Phil looked to Mary while wiping a bead of
sweat from his forehead. There were several windows open and
portable fans blowing throughout the house, but the outside heat
was inescapable. “Air conditioner on the fritz?” he said with a
smile.

“It’s the air conditioner that never was,”
Mary said with a sigh. “We should have a new unit here in a couple
of days.”

“One modern convenience at a time,” Phil
said.

“You said it.”

From down the living room over, Pete and
Earl entered the foyer carrying a tool bag and two more cages and
chatting amongst each other. Their voices lowered as they tipped
their hats to Mary and Phil.

“The wall doesn’t look too bad, ma’am,” Pete
said. “A little drywall and you’ll never know we were in
there.”

“That’s fine,” she said as they walked
by.

“We’ll give your kitchen a good look,” Earl
added.

“Don’t forget about the attic,” Mary called
out as they continued on.

“Oh no,” Pete billowed, turning his head.
“We’re saving the best for last.”

Mary turned back to Pastor Phil who stood
patiently to the side with a polite and subtle smile. “Pest
control,” she said.

“Ah, I should have known,” he said.

“Thank you again for the basket, it was very
nice of you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “Your husband sounds
pretty excited about the barbecue next Sunday. Can we count on your
attendance?

Mary placed a finger against her lip and
then pointed at him. “So you have an ulterior here motive, eh?”

Phil’s smile widened as he boasted a hearty,
measured laugh that exposed him as a man of social tact. “You
figured me out and uncovered my scheme.” He bowed his head like a
royal subject. “Forgive me, madam.”

“We’ll put it on our calendar,” Mary
said.

Phil looked up, pleased as Mary leaned in
closer in interrogation. “You’ve lived her for some time, haven’t
you?”

Phil’s smile straightened out as his blue
eyes looked up in thought. “Well… darn near half my life has been
spent in Redwood, yes.”

Mary paused, trying to choose her next words
wisely. “And did you know any former homeowners of this
mansion?”

“I did, actually,” he said. “Place has been
vacant a long time, but I’ve known families who lived here at one
time.”

“Families?” Mary said. She didn’t know of
anyone else who had lived in the mansion, and the mere thought had
her pumped to do more research. “So. You knew the Bechdel’s?”

For the first time since she had known him,
Pastor Phil’s face went completely blank. He must have realized
this and quickly tried to turn his lips up into a smile. “Yes. The
Bechdel family. A terrible tragedy back then. Worst thing to ever
happen in our humble town.”