The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion (3 page)

***

October 9, 2016

Mary woke up upon bumping her head
against the passenger window. It was daylight out and her
fair-skinned face felt hot from the flashing rays of sunlight
beaming through the oak tree branches along the leaf strewn road.
Her husband, Curtis, was at the wheel of their Ford Expedition SUV
as a twenty-six foot moving truck followed behind them. Soft rock
played from the stereo as Mary tilted her head up and squinted
against the blinding sun. Her neck ached and she
didn
’t know how long she had been out for. She reached
for her glasses on the dashboard as Curtis glanced over from behind
his own shades.

“
Hey. You’re awake,” he
asked.

Mary felt her neck and shook her
head.
“How long was I out for?”

“’
Bout three hours,” he
answered.

Her eyes widened.
“Really? You’ve been driving the entire time?”

“
I’m good for it. We crossed the state
border about an hour ago.”

Mary looked around. A forest of trees,
nearly bare of all their leaves, aligned both sides of rural
two-lane State Road they were on.

“
We’re in Indiana?” she
asked.

“
Sure are,” Curtis said as they
continued down the road, blowing leaves to the side.

A fresh, familiar vision entered
Mary
’s head. She could see a large boarded up door
with two vine-covered pillars on both sides. Beyond the entrance
sat an empty fountain in the center of a cracked courtyard, weeds
sprouted all around it. “I saw it,” she said. “In my dream, I saw
our new house.”

Curtis pulled at the collar of of white polo
shirt. His black hair was slicked back and face was clean-shaven
with the lingering musk of after shave still there. They had been
married for two and a half years. They had a happy marriage and
good jobs and lives back in Chicago. Recently, however, all of that
had changed, and they were looking to start over.

They had fled the city for a
reason:
to reach a new beginning under new and better
circumstances. The town of Redwood afforded them that opportunity
as Curtis had explained to her. He was the primary force in their
sudden relocation, and Mary had felt like a simple bystander as of
late.

She continued describing her dream and its
unsettling visions.

Curtis was less than convinced that
the dream meant anything significant.
“You’ve the
place before. So what’s the big deal?”

“
Only in pictures, Curtis. I wasn’t
looking at pictures in my dream. I was there and I could see
everything. It was dilapidated. Lifeless, like a dead
oak.”

“
They’ve been renovating all week,”
Curtis says. “It’s going to look a lot better
now.
”

“
But people were murdered in that
mansion,” Mary said with her hands out. “You should have told me
that from the get go. Now, it’s like there’s nothing we can do
about it.”

Curtis waved her off. “Mary, please. Those
murders took place a long time ago in the seventies. We’ve been
through this before. The mortgage alone is to die for.”

Mary turned to him, unamused. “Is that
supposed to be funny?”

Curtis gripped the wheel with both hands. “I
mean, they offered us a killer deal. What was I supposed to
say?”

“
Enough,” Mary said. She brushed back
one side of her long blonde and turned away, looking out the
window.

Curtis took her hand in his with an
apologetic tone. “Listen. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make jokes…”
he leaned closer. “It’s
a
ten
acre
mansion
, Mary, for
nearly the same price we were paying for a two bedroom apartment in
Chicago. This is a miracle.
”

“
Gee, I wonder why it’s priced so
low,” Mary said, turning away. “Maybe because a bunch of people
were murdered there!”

Curtis ignored her sarcasm and
squeezed her hand.
“I don’t care. I feel good about
this. After all we’ve been through we deserve it. A small town with
a clean slate. It’s perfect.”

Mary turned to him half convinced.
Before their marriage she had never went into great detail about
her visions. Half the time she didn
’t understand them
herself. Her visions of the past and future came in spurts from as
far back as childhood. Then again, she was an artist working as a
freelance illustrator for children’s books. Having “visions” was
part of the job.

Curtis began to speak of their future
with sheer optimism.
“I’m looking into setting up my
own practice out here. You’ll have all the room you need to work on
your drawings. We’ll have everything we need. He stroked the
surface of her jeans above her knee. “We’re going to be
okay.”

She looked up at him with a faint
smile, struggling to find the right words.
“I know.
We’ve been through this all before. It’s a great deal. It’s just…
something feels off now. I should have went out here with you
first.”

“
You were in the hospital then,”
Curtis said, looking into her blue-green eyes. There was nothing we
can do about that. I’m sorry. I had to make the decision, and I
still think it’s the right one.”

Mary simply nodded in response,
holding her emotions in. It was hard to believe how quickly things
had fallen apart over the past year, but she did love him and felt
committed to their
future together.

Curtis slowed to a halt at an empty
intersection. The moving truck following them stopped, headlights
filling the rear-view mirror. Curtis looked both ways at the stop
sign and continued on as the moving truck shifted and followed.

Mary looked ahead and saw a traffic sign
ahead: Redwood 5 Miles. They were close. Curtis held her hand with
his other hand steering. She wondered if there was still time to
turn back, to return to their former lives before it was too
late.

The moving truck behind was packed with
everything they owned packed and loaded in haste. One day, they
were in their apartment eating dinner, the next day movers were
loading up their things. Would they ever return to the city or
would Redwood be their home for the rest of their lives?

The passed over bumpy railroad tracks, when
a long semi-truck, the first vehicle they had seen in miles, roared
past them from the opposite direction. As they neared Redwood, Mary
still had questions, she should have asked from the get-go but
didn’t.

“
How did you find out about this
place?” she asked him as they passed a small gas station and
country store. There were a few people in the parking lot and one
car at one of the two pumps available.

“
I told you this, remember?” Curtis
said. She didn’t so her continued. “Tony Searle. My buddy in real
estate. He put me in touch with a realtor in Redwood, Bob Deckers.
Bob told me all about it. Mansion has been sitting dormant for over
a decade.” Curtis laughed to himself then continued. “Lots of
superstitious people out there I imagine.”

“
Can you blame them?”

Curtis turned to her, seemingly
exhausted of the subject.
“We got lucky, Mary,” he
said. “And we should be grateful for that.”

Rolling prairie fields and lush forest
encompassed the surrounding area. The rural isolation was
disquieting but comforting at the same time. They had truly
escaped. Up ahead on their right, there was a large wooden sign
half the size of a billboard. It overlooked a deep, watery canal.
Etched on the sign were giant letters, clear as day: Welcome to
Redwood Est. 1826. A small wooden sign hung below the big one on
small links of chain: Population: 1,600. Mary wondered how accurate
the numbers were. Perhaps she could adjust to life in the country
after all. She would have to see the mansion first. Not in some
kind of dream or vision, but right in front of her. She would make
up her mind from there.

***

Curtis turned onto Main Street, an
old-style brick road along the so-called
“historic”
district. He slowed as Mary took in all the quaint shops and
buildings around them. There was an old theater a box office and
marquee that read, “Autumn Celebration VC Fairgrounds OCT 15 &
16.”

Next to the theater was a green building,
three stories high with two American flags flapping from its
midsection. A red canopy hung over the first floor of a furniture
store that was open for business. As they continued, Julie took
notice of a grand mural sprawled across the side of the building
detailing a herd of frontiersmen journeying up a hill of bare pine
trees.

There were other historical markers along
the way, including some statues among trim bushes and benches. They
passed a deli and crafts store—all resembling mom and pop shops.
They weren’t in Chicago anymore.

The police station was a small brick
building with a sloping teal roof-top. To the left was the town
square where a large fountain sprayed water, mushrooming out on all
sides. Across from the fountain was a domed stage with several rows
of empty benches. Past the dome, Julie could see a park with fading
grass and fall leaves strewn across the ground. People walked about
wearing sun hats and shades, pushing baby strollers or walking
their dogs. There was serene quality to the town unlike anything
Mary had felt in some time.

Heads glanced in their direction,
young and old. Their mini-convoy did not go unnoticed. It was a
Saturday afternoon, and there were plenty of people visiting shops,
having lunch, or just out for a stroll. There was an old village
vibe to the town, slightly modernized, but still steeped in the
history of old buildings and roads. The brightness of the town
resembled nothing in Mary
’s own visions, and for the
time being, she felt at peace.

“
Nice little town,” Curtis
said.

Mary nodded along observing shops on her
side among bike racks and newspaper stands. Aside from its humble
and welcoming aura, the town so far looked like something out of an
amusement park. Though Mary kept such thoughts to herself. The
intersections ahead had old fashioned traffic lights on each side
of the street, attached to poles. Their light was green, but a
child on a bike rode across right in front of them, not even
looking.

“
Look out!” Mary shouted.

Curtis slammed the brakes as the car
screeched to a halt. Mary flew forward and was thrust back as her
seatbelt locked. Her hair whipped up. Bags catapulted from the back
seat. Mary
’s purse hit the dashboard. The moving truck
behind them slammed their brakes as Mary glanced into the rear-view
mirror, terrified at the prospect of a collision.

The child, a young boy, stood frozen in
place at the grill of the SUV came within inches of his face. The
moving truck halted. Its front end dominated the rear-view mirror,
but it did not hit them. The boy came to his senses, hopped on his
bike, and peddled off without looking back. Curtis sat at the
wheel, dumbfounded and nearly out of breath. Mary felt her chest
where the belt had yanked her. She was pretty sure it was going to
leave a mark.

“
Holy shit…” Curtis said, dazed. “That
was a close one.” He pressed the driver’s side button. The
automatic window began going down as Curtis stuck his head out the
window. “Hey!” he shouted at the fleeing boy.

Mary grabbed his shoulder.
“What are you doing? Stop it.”

Curtis turned to her as though he was
completely justified.
“I was just going to ask if he
was okay.” The light was still green and heads were turning in
their direction.

“
Just go. People are watching us,”
Mary said.

Frustrated, Curtis gunned it through the
intersection as the moving truck followed, no doubt feeling a
little on edge themselves after that close call. They passed a few
more buildings and then turned left off Main Street along a
glistening lake that stretched for a mile.

Some locals were spread out around the lake,
standing in ankle-high grass as endless forest stretched behind
them on the horizon. Curtis steered along the wide curve in the two
lane road still shaken from the incident.

“
Can’t believe he just came out in
front of us like that. Where are his parents?”

“
It’s okay,” Mary said. “Just grateful
nothing bad happened.”

“
Nearly had a damn heart attack,”
Curtis said, shaking his head. “Kids…”

Mary looked out her window as they drove
past homes concealed within the forest brush and spread out with No
trespassing signs posted on guide posts and gates blocking dirt
trail entrances. The rural homeowners seemed to revel in their
privacy and privacy was exactly what Curtis and Mary were looking
for.

“
How much farther?” Mary
asked.

“
About five miles down here,” Curtis
said. “Excited?”

“
I am,” she said. It was all she could
say.

Curtis looked away, convinced enough. Mary
glanced at the dashboard clock. It was a little after three.

As they continued down the road, other
homes became more sporadic. Soon Mary didn
’t see any.
Were they really going to live out here? What were they going to to
do with a two story, ten thousand square foot mansion? Mary closed
her eyes, trying to calm her nerves while telling herself that she
had to give it a chance.