Glass House 4

Pip ran. He ran through the garden, past all the flowers. He ran until he spotted the treeline and then he slowed to an impatient walk as he waited for a little crooked sign to appear. When it did, it pointed in three directions. Pip read it, nodded once and turned left. As soon as his path entered the woods, he ran again. The trees thickened around him. Mushrooms dotted the forest floor. He was tempted to stop, but he pressed on. He still had plenty in his pocket. Eventually, the trees thinned, and he could hear waves breaking ahead. Abruptly, the path turned to fine sand under his feet. Pip dug his bare toes in as he tried to look down the beach in front of him. There had been no day breeze to clear the air. A thick fog rolled lazily, obscuring the view in all directions. 

He squinted into the haze trying to make out any familiar shapes. “Bill?” He asked. There was no reply. “Bill!” He called it this time, straining his ears for a response. The fog could swallow sound, but Bill had a keen ear. Pip called again, “Biiiiiilllll!!” 

Finally, there was an answer. “Aye! Who calls?” It was muffled and distant, but he still heard it.

“It’s Pip! I can’t see nothin’ in this fog! Where are ya?”

“Hold on. I’m lightin’ me torch!”

Pip continued squinting into the fog, but it was useless. He couldn’t see anything past his own hand stretched out in front of him. 

“I’m comin’,” Bill called. 

Pip waited. After a bit he spotted a faint yellow glow off to his right. He sighed in relief and let himself sink down onto a wide, flat stone as the light bobbed slowly closer.

Finally, Bill emerged from the fog. He balanced a long pole across one shoulder, the lantern hanging from its end. Pip waved hello as Bill walked over and squatted down next to him.

“What’s all the fuss about now?” Bill asked.

“You’ll never guess!” Pip said. “Only, I just been to the old place. I’m supposed to go everyday, you know. So, I keep a few things there—tuck ‘em away for safekeeping.”

Bill nodded, “Sure. Sure.”

“Well, I was in the floorboards when I heard a click.”

“A click?”

“As I said. And then,” he paused for emphasis, “a few more clicks.”

Bill’s eyes grew wide. 

“Yeah, and then there was this commotion like someone was banging, trying to get in. The dust got all stirred up. I waited to see what would happen, but then it just stopped.”

“It stopped?”

“Yup! I waited a good minute and didn’t hear nothin’ more, so I came straight here. Figured people’d want to know.”

Bill looked serious. “Think they’ll be back?”

Pip shrugged. “They seemed mighty eager.”

Bill put a hand to his chin. He was silent for a moment. Pip waited.

“I think we should tell her,” Bill said. 

“Okay,” Pip nodded. “Should I…”

“No. You go back. You know it better than most of us so you can keep an eye on things. I’ll go find her.”

“What about Dee?” 

“He’ll be fine. We got visitors. I’ll let ‘em know before I go.”

Pip nodded again. “But what do I do Bill, I mean… what if they come inside?”

Bill scratched his head. “Just make it as normal as possible.”

“Okay.” Pip tilted his head in thought.

“Just try not to spook ‘em, whatever you do!”  Bill said.

“Not like we tried last time, though. They’s just jumpy, I think.” 

“Maybe they is, I dunno,“ Bill shrugged. “Just try to stay outta sight then. Keep an eye on things. We’ll get there as soon as we can.” 

“Aye Aye, Captain.” 

They both stood. Pip saluted. Bill nodded. Then they each turned to walk back the way they had come.

Glass House 4

Hazel was greeted by the sound of rain when Robert woke her. Dim light filtered through the gap in the curtains by her bed. She was so cozy and warm she wanted to sink in and let it lull her back to sleep. She hugged her quilts. 

“What time is it?” 

“It’s about five till 8. I wanted to let you sleep, but I wasn’t sure how long you needed to get ready. The Murrays are meeting us for breakfast downstairs at 8:30.”

Hazel groaned and pulled the blankets up over her face. 

“I’m comfortable though! I am not ready for Mrs. Murray again.” 

Robert laughed, and pulled her blanket back off her face. “Sorry,” he offered a sympathetic smile. “Maybe she’s not a morning person?”

Hazel glared at him. “Highly doubtful.” She grudgingly sat up and yawned. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“Bathroom’s all yours, I already used it.”

Hazel rubbed her eyes and nodded as she grabbed her things and headed out the door.

While he waited, Robert sat on his bed and pulled out everything Mr. Greer had given him the day before. There were several envelopes and files. Most were unmarked so he spread them out and opened them one at a time. Aside from the deed and title, he pulled from one envelope a set of faded floor plans and landscaping illustrations preserved in plastic. They looked extremely old. There was also a large pile of documents pertaining to the daily business of the house. There were records of employment, payroll and receipts for everything from oil and produce to household linens. The plans would be useful. The rest of it was just fascinating from a historical perspective. He set them aside, yawning, and withdrew the contents of the green folder. At first, it appeared to be more of the same. It contained several more orders for various goods, receipts for building supplies, a few business letters on ‘necessary updates’ and some correspondence with an art restoration expert. He skimmed the documents as he moved them from the top of the stack to the bottom. There was another floor plan, but this time overlaid with schematics for plumbing and electrical. Robert examined it and decided he should put it with other floor plans in case the new contractors needed it. As he moved to set it on top of the other plans, a few small yellowed paper scraps fluttered down onto the bed and floor. He set the stack down and began to collect them. They were all handwritten, moth-eaten and water damaged. The scrawling handwriting was hard to make out, especially where the paper was torn or smudged by water spots. Some of the edges crumbled as he picked them up. He scanned each as he set them carefully on top of the folder.

  “risky… difficult conditions… We drilled into the walls to lay the knob and tube… not what we expected to find…”

“only got as far as… Miss Harris thinks it should be removed to properly fix it. ” 

Another said, “I do not think the strange occurrences are the work of the Dugan boys as we originally suspected…” 

Robert studied the signature at the bottom of the notes. In some places it was totally illegible. But he thought he made out the name ‘McClagan’ or ‘McClager’ on a few of the scraps.

He leaned down to retrieve one from the floor.  “… hard to convince the men to stay. They’re spooked… talk of Mabel Walsh… I tried to tell them, but some have refused to come back.”

“What’s all that?” Hazel came in so abruptly that Robert jumped. 

“Wow.” Hazel raised her eyebrows. “You okay, Dad?”

“You scared me,” Robert said. 

“Clearly,” Hazel said. “What are all those?”

Robert ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just, you know, the stuff Mr. Greer gave me.”

“Really? Because you looked pretty freaked out when I came in,” Hazel set her things on the chair and brushed her hair out. 

“Maybe because you snuck up on me!” Robert sandwiched the little notes between the folder and a large envelope and moved the stack to an end table. He began collecting up the other piles.

“Missed one,” Hazel said as she bent to pick something up from the floor. “Salt water?” 

“What?” Robert looked up. Hazel was holding one of the yellowed notes.

“That’s what it says,” she squinted at the handwriting and read, “don’t know how it’s possible… something, something… saltwater.” She handed it over when she finished. “What does that mean?”

Robert shook his head. “I don’t know, there’s a whole stack of those and they’re all pretty much illegible.” He examined it himself before setting it in the pile on the table. “I have a layout for the house, though. Want to see?” He handed it to Hazel. 

She sat on her bed and studied it while Robert stood and stretched.

“It’s like the house from Clue,” she said looking up at him. “It has a ballroom and a conservatory and… what’s a vestibule?”

“It’s kind of like a fancy word for a hallway, I think. Do you smell bacon?”

Hazel smiled as she set the paper down. “I think maybe the Glass and Lion just smells like bacon.”

“It’s making me hungry. And I could really do with a cup of coffee. You

 ready?”

“You didn’t have to wait for me, Dad.” 

“It’s our first day here! I was not going to leave you in a strange place by yourself. Maybe tomorrow though,” he said smiling. “ Come on! We don’t want to be late for breakfast. We might get in trouble.” Robert held the door for her.

Hazel just shook her head as she laced her shoes. “This place is so weird.” She pulled on her backpack as they walked down the hall to the stairs.

“I’m curious about that bakery,” Robert said.  “I smell bread too. Maybe we can grab something to take to the house with us for lunch.”

“If Jimmy lets you in.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“He didn’t seem too happy with you last night.”

“He knew I was joking.”

Hazel just smiled and shook her head.

The Murrays were downstairs already. Mrs. Murray waved excitedly at them as soon as they entered the dining room. Hazel had an immediate urge to bolt back up the stairs, but Robert smiled and waved back. 

Hazel grumbled under her breath. “Morning people are the worst.” 

“Come on Hazel, there’s coffee!”

“And here you are!” Mrs. Murray exclaimed when they got to the table. Hazel winced at how loud she was. “I’d begun to think we missed you! Course Rachel assured me she’d not seen hide nor hair of you, but you know she can’t always watch the door. Not with so many people to feed. Come and have a seat.” 

“Oh, did we say 8 or 8:30? Didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Robert said. 

“Is it not 8:30 yet? Oh, well…” Mrs. Murray trailed off. She indicated a table for four by the stone fireplace.

Hazel looked at her watch. 8:22. She sighed.

Mr. Murray was sitting at the table casually examining a newspaper. An unlit pipe stuck out of the side of his mouth. Mrs. Murray scowled at him. “William, take that thing outta your mouth. You know they don’t allow such things in American restaurants.”

“Bea, Love,” he said with perfect patience. “We’re not in America and it’s not even lit.” But he took it out and set it next to his mug as he smiled at the Walshes. “Good Mornin’. Sleep well?” 

“Very, thank you!” Robert said. “Is that coffee?” He pulled out a seat for Hazel next to Mr. Murray and then sat across from her. 

“It is. That mug’s for you,” Mr. Murray said. “Rachel figured you for coffee and left a mug. Should be hot still, she just dropped it off. Do you take cream?”

“No, thanks. I like it just like that,” Robert said.

“What about you, Miss Hazel?” Mr. Murray asked. “Coffee?” 

“She’s too young for that,” Mrs. Murray interrupted.

“I don’t really like it much,” Hazel admitted. 

“A cuppa tea is better anyway… while you’re growing still,” Mrs. Murray said as she lifted her own cup of coffee to her lips. 

“I’ll get it,” Mr. Murray said. “I’m a tea person myself.”  He smiled as he rose and walked back to the kitchen.

Hazel didn’t have the chance to tell him she didn’t usually drink tea either. Though the kind she’d had the night before was good.  

“Now Robert,” Mrs. Murray said, setting her mug down. “I think we told you Mr. Bailey has been building a file for you, copying old documents and newspaper clippings and such on all the things pertaining to the house and the family. I don’t have all of it, but he was able to get me a copy of the original floor plans…” She bent over and pulled a folder from her bag. 

“We actually got a copy of the plans too,” Robert said.

“Did you?” 

“It was in with the things Mr. Greer gave me yesterday.” Robert yawned behind his hand. “Excuse me,” He said through watery eyes. “I was looking at it before we came down.”

Mr. Murray returned with a steaming mug just then. “Bea, Love,” he said. “Why don’t you let Bob enjoy his first cup of coffee and maybe a bit of breakfast before we start all that? We’ve got plenty of time and I’m sure they’re jet lagged.”

Mrs. Murray, who had her folder open in front of her, looked over at Robert. He was two handed gripping his cup of coffee, breathing in the smell with his eyes closed. She blushed. “Well, I suppose you’re right. I’ll drink my coffee while it’s hot too, I think.”. She closed the folder and picked up her mug.

“Easier to fill the ears when the stomach isn’t empty, I always say,” Mr. Murray whispered as he set a steaming mug in front of Hazel. 

“Thank you,” Hazel said.

Just then Rachel came out of the kitchen and spotted them. “Ah, you’re up!” she said as she came to the table. “Sleep well? Warm enough?” 

“It was perfect, thank you,” Robert said. 

“Good,” Rachel said. “Now, how’s about some breakfast?”

“Sounds amazing! Smells good too.”

Hazel looked around for a menu, but Rachel only smiled and spun back toward the kitchen. 

“It’ll be out in a minute,” she called.

Mr. Murray handed a section of his paper over to his wife and she actually managed to stay quiet while they waited. Hazel thought it was taking all her stores of self-control to keep her mouth shut. She felt a little bad for her, but not enough to strike up a conversation. 

She held her hot tea in both hands and let it warm her fingers. It was sweet and creamy, nothing like the herbal teas her mom was always trying to get her to drink. Hazel thought she could get used to having this tea in the mornings. 

Mr. Murray looked around furtively. Seeing that his wife was pretending to be absorbed in a bit of news, he turned and reached into the pocket of the coat draped across the back of his chair. He carefully withdrew a small package, unrolled the top and pulled out a flat round cookie, which he set on the top of his mug. 

“William! Rachel’s gonna see that,” Mrs. Murray hissed over her paper. “It’s not like you aren’t about to eat.” 

Hazel looked from the cookie to Mr. Murray. He pulled out another and handed it over. “Never seen a stroopwafel before?” Hazel shook her head as she took it. It looked like two layers of flat waffle cone.

“Set it on your mug like this,” he gestured to his own. “The steam from your tea melts the caramel in the middle so it’s all soft and chewy when you eat it.”

Hazel set the waffle on her mug and waited. 

“You can dunk it too if you’re in a hurry,” Mr. Murray said. “I never have a cuppa tea without one if I can help it.”

He lifted his, dunked one side, and took a bite. Hazel did the same. It was sweet and buttery and melty. Robert smiled at them and politely declined when Mr. Murray offered him one. Mrs. Murray looked at them disapprovingly. They were halfway through their stroopwafels when Rachel returned with her arms full of plates. 

She shook her head. “Always with the wafels! As if I’m not gonna feed you,” she said. “It’s not proper for you to bring your own food to a food establishment, William Murray. Who taught you manners?” She scowled as she set the plates down. Mr. Murray just smiled at her. 

“Just a bit a somethin’ with the tea is all. You know I’m never too full for a plate of your cooking, Rachel.” 

Rachel tried to keep a stern look on her face as she set plates in front of them all, but she blushed and smiled a tight lipped smile at Mr. Murray. 

“I tried to tell him. It’s not even proper Scottish,” Mrs. Murray said, exasperated. “And he’s gone and taught Hazel to like one with her tea too. I’ve tried to talk to Sybil about it.She keeps them on the shelf in the market, though I think William is the only one who buys them. And she knows it irks me. Horrible woman. Probably special orders them from Holland just to get under my skin.” 

Mr. Murray grinned conspiratorially at Hazel and pocketed the rest of the cookies.  “She’s always on about me not being proper Scottish,” he confided to Hazel. “But, I’m not anyway. Me dad’s mum was Dutch. He grew up in Glenaig of course, but Gran taught him some of the Dutch ways. Mum couldn’t break him of his habit of stroopwafels with tea and poor Bea can’t break me of mine either.” He shook his head pityingly at his wife. “I’m not the only one who buys them either. Sybil has wafels with her tea too.”

Hazel smiled at him from behind her tea. “They’re really good,” she whispered. 

Robert asked if he could have a refill on his coffee and Rachel tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Round the corner to your right. Help yourself,” she said. “There’s a fresh pot on, only I’ve gotta get plates out to all these people. There’s milk in the fridge if you need it.” She finished situating plates and then moved around the room, collecting things and scolding people for various reasons. 

Hazel examined the spread laid out in front of them. She had never seen so much breakfast in her life. Her plate held two eggs, half a tomato, a slice of ham and a thick sausage, baked beans, mushrooms and potatoes. In the center of the table there was also a basket of biscuits, a stand of toast, butter, several jams, and a plate of some dark sausagey looking things. When Robert came back from the kitchen with a fresh mug of coffee, he also had a pitcher of orange juice that he had been instructed to take to the table. He exclaimed over the whole spread, which seemed to please both Rachel and Mrs. Murray. 

Hazel ate what she could. It was much heavier than her normal breakfast of cereal. Mrs. Murray put one of the sausagey looking things on her own plate and offered one to Hazel. She called it ‘blood pudding’ though, and Hazel’s stomach turned over. She nibbled a piece of toast and politely declined. 

“I don’t think I can finish what I have. I’ve never eaten this much breakfast before.”

Mrs. Murray clearly disapproved. 

“It’s good though,” Hazel added. She tried not to look as Mrs. Murray took another bite of her blood pudding. She thought about asking what it was, but decided she didn’t want to know. Instead, she changed the subject.

“Dad, can I see the keys?” 

“Hmm?” Robert looked up from his own plate. 

“We were going to look at them in the light, remember?”

“Oh! Right! The house keys.” Robert set his toast down and reached into his jacket pocket. “Here you go.” He held the ring out to Hazel. 

The Murrays also put down their food and Mrs. Murray rummaged in her purse for her reading glasses. 

There were at least two dozen keys. The pile was cold and heavy. Hazel located the big one they had found the night before and held it out to her dad. “Look, it’s a cat isn’t it?” she said. It looked antique like the rest of them, but she could see now that it definitely had ears and a tail.

Robert tilted his head, “Sure looks like it.”

“Maybe a raccoon?” Mrs. Murray said. She squinted through her glasses at the ring. “Except the tail isn’t right for a raccoon.”

“Looks like a cat to me,” Mr. Murray said. “A common house cat. Not a tiger or a lion or anything. Can’t say I’ve ever seen a key quite like that before. May I?” 

Hazel handed them over.. 

“They're all quite pretty, aren’t they? What do you suppose these tiny ones open?”

“Maybe a box or a desk drawer?” Robert said. 

“Well, if you’re all done eating, we can go and find out,” Mrs. Murray said. She pushed her chair back and gathered up her purse. “We should be on our way if we’re going to meet Mr. Gordon on time.”

There were last minute sips of coffee and tea as the group rose and began collecting their things. Mrs. Murray hurried off in the direction of the door. 

“She runs a tight ship,” Robert said as he pulled on his jacket.

“Aye, she does,” Mr. Murray said. “Her and Rachel both—in their own way. You can count on it. Between the two of them we will be well fed and on task all summer.”

  Robert laughed. When Rachel came out of the kitchen he offered to help clear the table, but she shook her head.

“Rodger’s coming to help. He takes the scraps to his pigs. You all better get going. There’s dry umbrellas in the stand if yours are still wet.” She walked with Hazel and Robert to the door. “I’d take an extra sweater if I was you. It’s probably cold in that house,” she said. “I supposed I’ll not see you till supper?”

“We’re meeting Seamus about the locks this morning,” Mrs. Murray said. “And  then I guess we’ll have to start working our way through the inside. There’s a lot of rooms and probably a good amount of damage we need to assess. I don’t imagine we’ll be back before dark—unless the floors are rotted to the point we can’t go in.” 

Rachel nodded. “If I don’t see you, I’ll send Jimmy over with tea and sandwiches this afternoon.” 

There were ‘thank you’s’ and ‘goodbyes’ as the four of them performed an awkward sort of dance opening umbrellas through the half open door and jumping out of the way of an overflowing gutter. Then Rachel shut the door and they all squeezed into the rental car. Mrs. Murray eyed Robert with unease, but she said nothing as she directed him to pull up to the library curb across the street. It would have been less than a minute to walk it, but it was too wet. Robert set the car in park and they idled for a moment.

“You should have a bit of a signal on your mobiles from here,” Mrs. Murray said. 

“Could we call Ben?” Hazel asked as she pulled out her phone. She had two bars of reception. 

Robert showed her his phone. The clock on the screen showed the time in Boston. It was 4:27am. “Probably shouldn’t kiddo.”

  Hazel slumped back in her seat. 

Mrs. Murray said they should be going anyway, but she wanted them to get connected to the library Wi-Fi in case they needed it later. It was accessible from the street so she gave them the password as well as a rant on the utter uselessness of a password to begin with. “It’s mostly just us here anyway and he knows we all have it.” She rolled her eyes. 

Hazel took the opportunity to send a quick text to Ben. 

Hey! 

We actually got service for a second! 

You’re probably sleeping. Were on our way to the House

I’ll take pics and try to call later 

The message sent just as they were pulling away from the curb. There wasn’t time for a response even if he had been awake. Hazel watched her phone signal die away almost immediately. She tried not to look disappointed as she slipped her phone back in her bag.

Robert drove much more carefully to the house this time. He casually chatted with the Murrays as they went along. Hazel paid little attention to what they were saying. She just stared out the window as the rain and trees went past. When they arrived at the house, there was an old green truck with a wooden bed parked out front. Robert pulled up behind it. Two people were already out on the front step of the house. One was bent over the handle of the enormous door and the other was holding an umbrella for them. 

“Oh good, they’re here,” Mrs. Murray said. And it looks like Seamus brought his grandson with him. I suppose it’ll be helpful to have an extra hand.” 

“And maybe a friend for Hazel,” Mr. Murray added.

The Murrays exited the car and Mrs. Murray called to the two people over the rain. When they turned around Hazel saw the one with the umbrella was a boy about her age. The man next to him looked about Mr. Murray’s age. 

“You can wait in the car if you want, Kiddo,” Robert said. “It’s so wet out and it might be a while before they get it open.” Hazel nodded and leaned back in her seat. She watched as Robert approached the group at the door and the boy held out a hand to greet him. Robert shook it and then shook hands with Seamus. He fished the ring of keys out of his pocket and held them out to the group. Hazel watched as they discussed them together. A few of the keys were examined closely before they turned back to the door. 

Eventually, Hazel pulled out her headphones and put her music on. She watched through the rain cascading down the car windows as the little group at the door took turns inspecting the work of the old man and pointing at things as he knelt in front of the lock or hinges. She drew a face in the fog on the window of the car as she watched. Every now and then, the boy was sent to get something from the truck. He would hand off his umbrella to Robert or Mr. Murray and dart off into the rain to rummage through the tool boxes in the bed of the truck. He wasn’t wearing a raincoat, just a canvas jacket over a sweater and jeans. Hazel thought he must be drenched and she shivered at the thought. Rachel’s sweater was very warm, but she could imagine it would be freezing and heavy if it was soaked through. 

Finally, after what felt like an hour, Hazel saw Seamus stand and push the door open. Everyone gathered close around it and Hazel grabbed her backpack, threw the hood of her jacket up and ran to where they all stood.

“I think that’s a switch right there,” Mr. Murray was saying. “I might be able to reach it.”

“William, we can’t try any of the switches till they’ve been inspected,” Mrs. Murray said. They all leaned in around the doorframe peering into the darkness.

“Aye, Gordie, run and fetch a few more torches,” Seamus said. 

But when Gordie turned around, he ran straight into Hazel. She had come up behind them without being noticed. She shrieked in alarm and the group at the door jumped in surprise. Gordie caught Hazel just before she slipped back off the top step. 

Hazel stared at him wide-eyed.

“My fault,” he said. “Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t know you came out of the car.” Gordie was tall and thin like he’d had one too many growth spurts and had a hard time keeping up. His rain drenched hair hung down in front of bright green eyes and dripped onto his sweater. “Are you steady now?” he asked. “Careful of the stone, it’s slippery in the rain.” And with that, he darted around her and down the steps to the truck. 

Mrs. Murray crossed herself. “Hazel, you gave me a heart attack!” 

“S - sorry,” Hazel stammered. She pulled her headphones down. “I thought I was going to fall.” 

Robert put his arm around her and smiled. “You okay?”

“Fine. Just embarrassed,” Hazel said.

  “Don’t be. We were just about to fall asleep anyway. It's unbelievably boring work breaking into a house. Isn’t it Mr. Murray?”

“Aye, we needed a good wake up call,” Mr. Murray laughed. “My heart’s definitely going now.”

Robert stepped closer to the door with Hazel and introduced her to Mr. Gordon.

“Call me Seamus. You met my grandson. He’s Seamus too, but everyone calls him Gordie so it’s not confusing.” He pointed and Hazel turned to see Gordie at the bottom of the steps handing up flashlights and headlamps. He smiled at her, and she was thankful for the dark because she was pretty sure she had turned bright red. 

Robert said, “We’ll go inside in a minute. Seamus just wants to make sure no one will fall through the floor first.”

“How long has it been since anyone went in last?” Hazel asked. 

“Lord knows, Love,” Mrs. Murray said over the rain. “From what I’ve read, after the Walshes left, people only came back a few times. I think it was closed up for good after the last attempted update. Whoever it was must have run out of money or motivation to finish the work. Hopefully, they didn’t leave the place all torn up.” 

“There’s some debate about why those people really left. I never heard it was the money,” Mr. Murray said. “I heard there was sightings. People whispering about Mable Wa…”

“Oh hush. Superstition and nonsense.” Mrs. Murray cut him off.

Robert straightened at the name, but the Murrays didn't appear to notice. 

“Just saying what me Gran said,” Mr Murray shrugged. 

“In answer to your question, Hazel,” Mrs Murray pointedly turned back to her, “Don’t know if anyone’s been inside since the early 20’s. That’s my best guess.”

“But,” said Hazel, “That was over 100 years ago.”

“It’s a bit like entering King Tut’s tomb, isn’t it?” Robert said. He squeezed Hazel under his shoulder. “So exciting!”

“Again, Dad, it’s creepy,” Hazel said. 

Robert just put on a face of shocked offense and Hazel rolled her eyes.

Seamus, apparently satisfied that the entry was safe, stepped inside. He paced the floor a few times, bent to study a few more floorboards and then told the group they could come just inside the door while he looked at the rest of the room. They all flicked on their lights. Mrs. Murray pulled a headlamp onto her forehead and Gordie produced a battery operated lantern. They squeezed in through the door and stood in a tight group. A cold breeze blew stray leaves between their feet as they stood speechless taking in the room and the dark hall stretched out in front of them.