Teaser - New Novel - Masked
Every once in a while I like to post a preview of what I'm working on. This morning's "teaser" is of a new novel called, "Masked".
September, 1970
The evening wind blew gently outside, bringing the cool September air to the town of South Haven, Connecticut. The quiet New England town relaxed and seemed to breathe easily as the seasons changed again. The new school year had started in town and the streets were quieter again during the day with the children locked away in their classrooms. The leaves had begun their changes, decorating the world with reds and golds which were soon to be piles of brown neatly raked into fragrant piles. Churches put up signs for their Fall Festivals and stores began to assemble their Halloween displays, tempting shoppers with enormous bags of treats.
South Haven was a blue collar town with higher aspirations. The people worked hard and took care of their own business. The houses were modest but kept in good repair, and the plots they occupied were small but well kept. People took pride in what they’d worked hard for.
Neighbors kept an eye on one another in the most well-meaning fashion, helping each other through the rough patches of life the world imposed upon them.
There was a small group of ladies from the local Episcopal church who saw to Mrs. Edwards, a widow with no children. They made sure that she was able to get to her doctor’s appointment and always had a ride to the grocery store now that her eyesight had failed her. There was another closely knit bunch that helped Maggie Riley, a young mother whose husband had been deployed overseas. They sat with the baby, helped keep the house tidy and invited her to their homes for dinners so she did not have to add cooking to her daily workload. And everyone on Henry Street watched out for Mr. Jenkins since his dementia had worsened and he had taken to wandering away from his home… naked.
There were very few For Sale signs in front of homes in town. It was the kind of place people wanted to stay, and raise their families. In ten years there was only one house sold on the main stretch in town, Coda Avenue. One tragic house. The whole town had been in mourning when five year old Melissa Ellis had drowned in the back yard swimming pool. The Ellis family had tried for a short while to hold on but the grief had been too much for them. Two months after the death of their only child they’d filled in the in-ground swimming pool.
Six months after her death they purchased a Ouija board and tried each night to contact their daughter on the other side. In their desperation to find out if their baby was at peace they contacted mediums and psychics, one after the other and held séances in the house. They withdrew from the community that had given them support, rarely appearing in public except to buy the bare necessities for living.
A year after that they put the house on the market and moved south. They took only the essentials with them and left most of their possessions there in the home. The house sat vacant for almost a year longer before a new family moved in.
Rick and Paula Carson casually examined the menu at the Italian restaurant, each knowing too well that they were going to order the same thing they always ordered. Still, they went through the perfunctory routine of looking and considering while they chatted. One night a week, Friday night, it was their night. They’d agreed even before the birth of their only child, Carrie that one night a week they’d take time for themselves, for each other. Rick had come from a home broken by divorce. His mother and father’s relationship had failed after having six children together, then realizing that the children were the only thing they had in common anymore. He married Paula seven years ago, determined not to let that same thing happen to them. And so, every Friday night after his arrival home from work they headed out for dinner and sometimes even a movie afterwards. They’d been lucky enough to meet a wonderful older woman who lived in the neighborhood who’d offered to watch after their daughter once a week.
Their life in South Haven so far had been blessed. They’d found an affordable house in a wonderful neighborhood close to Rick’s new job, and had made friends. The school system was one of the best in the state and their daughter had just started kindergarten there. They were putting down roots in a community where they felt at home.
They had purchased the house along with the contents of the house for a little extra. The furniture that had been left behind by the former owners was much nicer than what they’d been living with and they counted it as a blessing that so much had been left for them at such a small price. It had been priced far below what other similar homes in the country were selling for and they had asked the realtor a dozen times what the catch was before they even saw the property for themselves.
The former owners had moved south, and they assumed it was for health reasons or perhaps the couple had been older and more inclined to the warmth of the south. Perhaps they had just been downsizing and hadn’t had room for everything. They’d asked a few questions of the real estate agent and the neighbors but no one had offered up much in the way of detail. Simply that the couple had moved south and they didn’t really keep in touch.
Rick had been raised Catholic, and Paula in the Methodist church. She’d been unwilling to convert to Catholicism when they became engaged. Together they decided that they would not push religion on their children, but let them decide for themselves. They maintained their own spiritual if not religious beliefs. They prided themselves on thinking outside the box and explored other forms of spiritual growth in meditation and thought more along the lines of “the universe” as opposed to an all knowing, all seeing “God” who judged and punished. Neighbors all seemed to want them to attend their churches and invitations rolled in for the first couple of weeks they were there. Their polite refusals had slowed the flood of invitations to a trickle. Only the most persistent church-goers still brought up the subject at all.
The whole community seemed so helpful and warm. The only subject they appeared reticent to speak on was that of the home they’d purchased.
Branches scratched lightly at the window of the little girl’s bedroom as she chattered happily at the invisible friend in the rocking chair. “An’ then next year I’m gonna go to school the whole day,” she announced happily. She paused and listened intently for a few moments, cocking her head and paying close attention. “You want another towel? Okay, Melissa, I’ll go ask Mrs. Henderson for one,” she agreed as she jumped to her feet and ran out of the room.
Maureen Henderson dried off the last of the plates from dinner and put it back into the cabinet. She folded the dishtowel adorned with brightly colored roosters and hung it back in its place. With her own children long grown and gone and her grandchildren many miles away it gave her a certain comfort to babysit on occasion for the new little girl on her street. Five year old Carrie Jackson was a sweet little thing, and never gave her any trouble at all. Carrie’s parents had moved into the neighborhood several months earlier. They were a young, hard working couple who tried their best to provide a happy, stable childhood for their daughter. Carrie had just started kindergarten and was thrilled to be a “big girl” now, going to school every day.
Maureen rubbed her arthritic fingers as she turned away from the kitchen sink and started back to the living room. She could hear her independent little charge upstairs playing, and she herself was eager to get back to the book she’d been reading, now on the arm of the big chair in front of the fireplace. Her goal, however close was still out of reach as she heard the thumping of small feet down the staircase, and the call of her name.
“Mrs. Henderson?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” she asked, turning to see the little blonde girl standing in the archway.
“Mrs. Henderson, may I please have another towel for my friend?” Carrie asked.
“Another towel?” she chuckled. “My goodness, your friend likes to stay clean, doesn’t she? What did she do, take another shower?”
“No, ma’am, she’s just still wet,” Carrie tried to explain. Melissa had been coming to visit her ever since she moved into the new house, and the other little girl was always dripping wet. Fortunately, she didn’t leave any puddles for her parents to get mad at her about.
Mrs. Henderson headed towards the staircase. “Well, let’s just go get another towel out of the linen closet and see if we can’t get her dried off for good this time,” she suggested. Up at the top of the stairs, just outside the bathroom door was a small closet and Mrs. Henderson retrieved the same clean, dry towel she’d given the youngster earlier for the same purpose. “Where’s your friend now, in your bedroom still?”
“Yes, ma’am, she likes it there,” Carried replied, accepting the towel and leading the way to her private palace. The rocking chair moved slowly, back and forth, the motions barely noticeable.
Maureen shivered as she approached the chair with Carrie. “Getting awfully chilly in here. Maybe it’s time to close these windows after all.” She moved away from the rocking chair, heading towards the window to close it again what she assumed was a cold breeze when she noticed that the windows were already closed, and that it was distinctly warmer by the window than it was in the middle of the room by the chair. She glanced up to the ceiling to see if there was an open vent causing the chill, but there was not. She took a step back towards the middle of the room and felt the temperature drop as she came towards the rocker again. She watched Carrie as she stood behind the chair, ministering to her invisible friend, making futile gestures with the towel. Trying to dry her friend off. “Is your friend not dry yet?” she asked, mustering an uneasy smile.
Carrie sighed dramatically. “No, ma’am. She doesn’t ever dry off. She says she can’t dry off, she keeps falling into the pool.”
The chair rocked violently backwards and froze, suspended at an unnatural angle and Maureen Henderson felt suddenly sick to her stomach.
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