Chapter Seven

They made quick work of the rest of their lunch and left; leaving a big tip for the waitress. On the way back to town, Angel Rose continued her local history lesson, pointing out more interesting buildings or historic sites, and in no time they were back at the Historical Society. Ang was out of the truck before Richie could come around to open her door. “Don’t tell my Ma I didn’t open the door for you,” he joked, tossing his hat on the bench seat before closing and locking the door.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Ang answered, smiling at his silliness.

She let them into the building and grabbed huge wooden fob with three keys dangling from a hoop on the end of it from a drawer in her desk. “Here,” she said, handing it to Richie. “You can use this until you’re done; the keys will let you through all the locked doors. The larger brass key is for the third floor rooms. The smaller brass one will unlock the elevator and the stairwell. The silver-colored key will unlock the research room upstairs. You can come and go as you please as long as the office is open.” She led Richie upstairs to the stack of papers and boxes they had left behind. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking on the light switches before closing the door behind them.

Richie groaned. “This looks like a daunting task,” he said, shaking his head.

“It won’t be that bad,” Ang answered quickly. Then she looked around and tried to see it from Richie’s point of view. “Well, maybe it is a lot, but we haven’t even gotten the rest of the records yet. Do you want to do that, or do you just want to just start with the deep history and tackle the rest later?”

“Look at all this paper! Will dealing with this first, then going for the new stuff later really make a difference?”

“No,” Ang said, shaking her head. “The process will still be the same; you’re just starting with the beginning this way. You can think of it like searching for all the parts of a story. You know the general plot of the story – you know that at the end the heroine disappears. What we have in here,” she said, gesturing to the pile, “is the back story, the middle, and some details. It’s just a matter of putting it in order, and seeing what you have.”

Richie shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Let’s just start with what we have here, and we can fill in the recent history later.”

“Alright,” she said, putting a hand on the doorknob. “Just remember to lock up before you leave, and you can drop the keys at my desk on your way out.”

“Aren’t you going to help me?” Richie asked.

Ang just shook her head and looked at her watch. “Alright, I can help you get started, but I do have a job here, you know.”

All Richie heard was “alright” and he beamed. He scooped up a pile of papers, and said “What’s first?”

Ang sighed and took the lid off of a box of records. “The first thing we should do is lay out this stuff chronologically on these long tables. Then you can start at the beginning, and build your story.”

The pair worked in tandem, sorting through the paperwork and laying out piles for each year they found. The first time she forgot to just sort, and started reading, she felt a familiar clouding in the back of her mind. She willed it to go away, and found that as long as she was careful, she could keep it at bay. When Richie finished his pile, he was surprised to see it was after five o’clock.

“Whoa,” he said. “Look at the time.”

Ang, still with a fistful of papers, tilted her wrist to look at her watch. She swore softly. “Damn, I’ve gotten nothing accomplished today.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘nothing’, Darlin’,” Richie answered. “I think we made quite a bit of progress here.”

She had to agree, but it wasn’t the work she had planned to get done. “I need to close the office,” she said. “You good for today?” When Richie nodded, she returned the gesture. “What do you think so far?”

“I haven’t been reading everything as we sorted, but from the bits I’ve caught, I can tell it really is a mystery what happened to Kirstin. Nobody seems to know what happened. I did find one interesting thing, though.”

“Really? And what was that?” Ang answered, distractedly sorting the last few papers she had in her hand.

“I found that you’re wonderful company, Angel Rose.” He just stood there quietly, watching her finish with the documents in her hand.

Ang finished sorting the last few items and smiled at herself, dusting off her hands. Frowning at the silence, Ang turned to Richie. “Sorry, I missed what you said. What did you find interesting?”

Richie shook his head. “Nothing, not really important, I guess.” He headed for the door and held it open so Angel Rose could pass through ahead of him. “So, hey, tomorrow’s Saturday – are you still going to be open?”

She nodded. “For half the day at any rate,” she said. “Though I’m not sure why we even bother sometimes.”

“You do it because you love it,” Richie said simply, turning the key in the lock. “So see you in the morning then.”

“Yep,” Angel answered, leading them down the stairs. Richie held out the key to Ang, who gestured at the copper pot on the corner of the desk. “You can leave it in there if you like,” she said. “That way, if I’m somewhere else in the building when you come in, you can just grab the key – you don’t have to wait for me.” She held up the pager-like device she had picked up earlier. “This will buzz when the front door opens, and all the rooms are hooked into the camera system, so I can see you come in.”

Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Richie just nodded. “Sounds good. Have a pleasant evening, Angel Rose,” he said.

“You too,” she answered.

Richie reluctantly left, pointing his truck toward home.

* * * * *

Kirstin paced around the house. She was worried that she pushed too hard too fast with this one, visiting him in his dreams like that. She just felt sure that he would accept her, especially after what had happened yesterday. She had sensed it when he seemed so fascinated by the great room, and was almost dialed in to her presence. She sighed. He had been gone for some time, though. Not that time meant much to her anymore. Distracted, Kirstin roamed from room to room, passing through walls and doors. She always returned to her room, though. It gave her comfort. She was almost happy there.

Sitting in her rocking chair and staring blankly out the window, she remembered back to that Halloween afternoon, and for the hundred-millionth time, wondered if she shouldn’t have told Geoffrey about what had happened at the lake.

The Past

Kirstin reached the lake with a smile on her face. She daringly removed her sturdy boots and stockings, and sat on a boulder; looking out over the glassy water. She could see small fish darting here and there just beneath the surface. Trailing one delicate foot lazily in the water, she listened eagerly for more sounds of Geoffrey approaching. Hearing none, she thought she must have been mistaken in what she had heard.

Looking around to make sure she was truly alone, she scampered down from the boulder and, gathering her skirts high between her legs, waded out into the lake up to her knees, letting the cool water wash away some of her fatigue.

She reluctantly returned to the boulder to let her legs dry and to reflect on some of the games the adults were going to play. There of course was the masquerade, where the guests would have to guess who each of the costumed people were. That was always amusing, as the children usually gave the adults away. There would be bobbing for apples, a race through the maze, and pumpkin carvings. The house staff was preparing a giant feast and there were long tables laid out in the great hall to hold the delicious foods.

Finally for each guest, Kirstin and her daughters had crafted a small gift of charms and talismans for each partygoer. Each guest would select a small sack tied with orange and black ribbon from a basket. Inside each tiny bag was a strip of paper bearing an individual charm for each guest. They would be told that the bags were blessed by Titania, Queen of the Fairies, and her blessing would serve to keep away the witches for a period of one year. All they had to do was follow the instructions on the charm. The girls had agonized for hours over what to write, and they had dozens of little sayings written on the slips of paper: ‘Hidden in your favorite book, pleasant memories around will look’, ‘Gaze on this charm in the morning, it will bring you much adoring’, ‘Worn in your glove this simple token will bring words to you, kindly spoken’ and on and on.

Ready to get back to the preparations, Kirstin donned her stockings and laced up her boots. She tossed the crust of bread into the lake, and smiled as a greedy duck made quick work of it. Turning to face the path, she saw movement in the trees. She knew now she was not imagining things. She also knew this was not Geoffrey, for he would not scare her so. Kirstin ran up the path, breathless by the time she reached the maze. She didn’t know who was out there watching her, but she was afraid.

Collecting her faculties and sensibilities, she chided herself for letting her imagination run away like that. It was All Hallow's Eve after all. She was probably just letting the wind get the better of her. She smoothed her hair back into its plait and straightened her clothes. With a slow, dignified step, she continued on to the house. When she got there, Geoffrey was waiting for her on the porch, a wide smile on his face.

“Sweetheart, we missed you,” he said.

“Darling, I just went for a little walk to get some air,” she said, ascending the stone steps to step into the circle of his arms. She turned her face up for a kiss. “I am sorry I took so long.”

“A moment away is an eternity for me,” Geoffrey said, sipping from her lips. “I am glad you are back.”

Arms wrapped around each other, the pair went into the house.

* * * * *

The Present

Angel Rose spent a little time going through the mail on her desk, but really couldn’t concentrate on her work. She was preoccupied by the piles of papers that were up in Richie’s research room. The more she thought about them, the more she felt a little pushing at the back of her brain to go up and look at them. When the pushing turned into a whisper, then a murmur, she gathered her things and locked up. The mail would wait.

No way was she going to give in to the curse now. Richie could just do the next batch of sorting on his own. She had helped him make some serious headway; the rest was up to him.