Dark Places: Edge of Reason

Part Three

“You did it!” his sister cried, giving him an impromptu hug. “How did you do it?”

Brian held out the key he had used, label foremost. Reading it, Trixie smacked herself on the forehead. “Oh, how could I be so dumb?”

“It’s a sad affliction,” her middle brother mourned, giving her a pat on the arm, “but you bear it bravely.”

She gave him an answering thump and passed the key around for the others to see. Honey laughed and read it aloud: “‘Big white one.’ I guess the person who wrote the tag didn’t know what this building was, either.”

Uninterested in speculation on that point, Trixie peered through the doorway into the building itself. Since putting her foot through a floor-board the day before, she had become rather more careful, so she took her time checking the condition of the floor before attempting to stand on it. Everything inside seemed dry and well-preserved. Her careful tapping brought a healthy sound and so she ventured inside, while the others waited just outside the door. She found herself in a cluttered room, clearly set up as some kind of business. A wooden partition separated the work space from the public area with a small window for transactions. Along one wall, a narrow counter at a little higher than waist height seemed to be there for the benefit of customers. It certainly did not look like a general store.

“Post Office,” Trixie asserted over her shoulder to her brother. “That, or a bank, but I don’t really think so.”

Brian shrugged, seemingly unmoved by his mistake. Turning her back on him, she began to search for a way behind the partition. Just as she was beginning to think she would have to find another way around, she found a well-worn patch in the finish and deduced that she should touch there also. The mechanism moved with a groan almost as loud at that made by the door, but a gap appeared and Trixie went through it. She began to pull out drawers, some of which rattled with loose pencil ends and other rubbish.

“Post Office,” she repeated. “Definitely. Which means that I was right about that being First Street.”

“I already conceded the point,” Brian answered in his most patient voice. “That doesn’t mean that I think it makes much sense, but I concede that it must have been so.”

Poking around, Trixie found a door that led into the back room and a set of stairs to the upper level. Curious as ever, she began to explore and her friends followed. In one of the back rooms, Brian found a window that had been forced.

“That looks rather recently done,” he noted, pointing to the yellowish marks on the wooden frame. “If it was more than a few weeks ago, they would have turned grey.”

Honey shivered. “You don’t suppose they’re still here, do you?”

He shrugged. “You never know, but I would doubt it. We should be careful anyway.”

Not finding anything else of interest, they made their way upstairs. It was then that they began to get worried.

“It looks like someone’s been camping in here,” Trixie whispered, pointing to a grubby sleeping bag and several articles of clothing strewn around one of the rooms.

“And they’re living like a pig,” Mart added. “You should see what they’ve done in the next room – rotten food scraps and bits of plastic and dirty plates, and I don’t think I want to know what the liquid is in that bucket.”

“I think we should get out of this building before they find us here.” Honey’s voice shook as she spoke. “They might be in here somewhere, listening.”

Nodding agreement, they made their way back downstairs and out into the street, locking the front door behind themselves. They were all a bit edgy after that experience and tended to glance around, as if looking for the intruders.

“Well, what’s next on the agenda?” Brian asked, ignoring the building tension.

“Now that we know where we are, it should be a cinch to find the right building,” Trixie answered, giving him a grateful smile. “Let’s start looking.”

With the identification of the Post Office settled, the group embarked on the next stage of their exploration. Trixie knew from her research that the Post Office had stood at the corner of First Street and Main Street. Their target was located on the opposite side of Main Street between First and Second Streets and one building away from the corner of Second and Main. Having secured the old building, they walked along the main street looking for any sign of the end of the block. Many gaps were easily wide enough to have admitted traffic, the difficult part was in deciding which of them actually had. Second Street had, for all intents and purposes, disappeared.

“We’ve gone too far,” Trixie grumbled, kicking at a sign which still bore the legend “Third Street”. “I just don’t get why First Street and Third Street are so clear and Second just doesn’t exist any more.”

Brian pointed down Third Street. “There were buildings in use in First and Third,” he pointed out. “If none of the buildings on Second were in use the street would fall out of use, too.”

“Are the blocks even sizes?” Honey asked. “If we could measure the distance from the corner of First to the corner of Third and halve it, wouldn’t that give us the middle of Second?”

The others shared a look. “It’s worth a try, I think,” Jim answered. “How about if a few of us pace it out?”

Ten minutes later, they were agreed that the halfway mark lay next to what must be one of the biggest, bushiest and most prickly pieces of vegetation in the entire town. Trixie let out a groan and began trying to pick her way through, letting out occasional exclamations of pain.

“You haven’t considered going around, have you?” Brian asked dryly. “We could stand where we are and give you a bearing.”

Rolling her eyes at him while he couldn’t see her, she set off around one of the adjacent buildings to see what was on the far side of the enormous bush. In a few minutes, she was calling to her friends from out of sight.

“Am I in the right place?”

“It sure sounds like it,” Jim answered. “Can you see any evidence that this is the place?”

“You mean, like the sign painted on the side of this building?” she asked, excitement evident in her voice. “This is the place all right.”

“Can you see anything that we can’t?” Honey asked. “Are there any clues to what happened?”

“Come around and see for yourselves,” Trixie suggested.

In a few minutes they had all taken her advice, arriving on the other side of the obstruction to find that the buildings in the area were still in reasonable condition, giving hope that there might still be clues around. Trixie found her way to the rear wall of the building where the crime had occurred. She ran her hands over the brickwork.

“Look! You can see where the hole was – where the mortar is darker.” She pointed out the boundary, tracing it with her fingers. “It must have taken a long time to make a hole that big.”

“It would need to be that big, if you wanted to get the safe out through it,” Brian pointed out.

His sister nodded, frowning. “Well, let’s see if we can get inside. Mart and I hadn’t tried this building, yet, so I don’t know if we can.”

A narrow path between the buildings was clear enough to follow back to the main street. In a few minutes, the group had managed to unlock the front door and found the interior in good enough condition to explore. There was not much to see. The main floor consisted of a series of offices, most still containing battered furniture. The one at the back, where the hole had been, was almost bare. It seemed to have been used as a storeroom most recently. All that was left were a few cardboard boxes, most of them empty.

There was little else to see. A hatch in the floor led to a basement level, which contained nothing of interest. A panel in the ceiling gave access to the roof space, but it was empty. Sighing with frustration and disappointment, Trixie led the way outside and locked the place up.

“That’s not what I was expecting to find at all,” she told the others. “I thought it would be a bigger building, for one thing – that’s why we didn’t even look in this one. It just seemed too small.”

“Well, what will we do next?” Brian asked, as she continued to frown. “Do you have other things that need to be identified?”

Her face cleared and she nodded. “Plenty. Let’s go on to looking at houses for a while. They might distract me long enough to stop focussing on the problems this causes for all of the reasoning I’ve been doing so far.”

The others agreed to this plan and chose an area to explore. The first residence they came across was a rather plain one, once painted all in white, but now showing a good deal of the underlying wood. Once inside, it seemed that the house was still fully furnished. If not for the dust, the cobwebs and the obvious signs that the roof had been leaking, it would seem that the house was still in use. They walked through the house until they came to the living room, where a large sideboard stood against one wall.

Honey ran her hand over the surface of the wood, then fiddled with the decorative handles. “Why did someone leave this here?” she wondered. “It must have been beautiful, before the water damaged it. Why didn’t they take it with them when they left?”

“Because they were dead?” Dan suggested, with a casual shrug. “You can’t take it with you then.”

With gentle fingers Honey opened one of the bottom drawers and pulled out a pile of faded photographs. “Maybe they were dead,” she agreed, in low tones. “Maybe their family didn’t bother to even come and look at what was in the house. Maybe they didn’t even have any family.”

She replaced the photographs and shut the drawer. Turning away, she added, “This is kind of depressing. How about if we go somewhere else?”

Trixie huffed in mock indignation. “We can’t stay in the middle of town because it bothers me and now we can’t explore the houses because it bothers you. What do you suggest we do instead?”

“I saw a dentist’s office,” Brian suggested. “Mart told me it still had the dentist’s chair in it and some of the instruments. I’d like to take a look at it.”

Honey shuddered. “On second thoughts, I like it here. Let’s stick with the houses.”

“Let’s go next door,” Trixie suggested. “I’ve been in it before and it has the most horrible orange and brown wallpaper you’ve ever seen.”

That house cheered Honey considerably, as she cringed over the 1970s décor and discussed with Di how it could have been redecorated. They emerged from it to hear a voice calling them.

“You folks looking for something?”

Trixie looked up to see a bent, elderly man, his clothes well-worn and his white beard raggedy. “Are you Abel?” she asked, smiling. The old man nodded. “They told me you might be around. I’m taking a look at the place for the new owners and these are my friends.” With a few words, she introduced the rest of the group.

Abel nodded in recognition of the introductions. “I’m glad to know what you look like,” he told them. “I had a feeling there’d been someone around. It’s good to know it’s someone who has a right to be.”

Trixie’s brow creased. “Actually, we think there might have been someone else here, too. We found a big mess upstairs in the Post Office, where someone had been camping there, and a spot where they’d forced a window to get in.”

“You haven’t seen them around?” he asked.

Trixie shook her head. “They left their camping gear, though, so they might be back, I guess.”

Abel nodded, but did not comment further.

“So, can you tell us anything about the town?” Trixie continued, hopefully. “It must have a whole lot of interesting stories.”

“I can tell you everything about it,” he boasted. “No one knows more about Eastedge than me.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Honey gushed. “We were wondering about this house here, and why it’s got so many things still inside, when it doesn’t look as if anyone has lived here for years and years. Can you tell us about it, please?”

The old man shrugged. “Not much to tell. Family by the name of Schloss lived there. Old man Schloss was a bit of a tyrant. Four daughters, he had, and no sons. Wife died young and left him with those girls and he tried to keep them all in line. Eldest girl was a tall, thin streak of misery. Face like the back end of a horse, if you ask me. Still, she ran off and married a farmer from the next town over yonder. After that, he tried to keep the other three girls in the house, so they couldn’t meet any men.”

“I bet they didn’t like that,” Trixie commented, grinning.

“No, they didn’t.” His eyes twinkled. “They all managed to sneak out more nights than they stayed home. And, sooner or later, they all left until he was there alone. And when he died, none of them wanted to come and see what was in the house, so none of them ever did.”

“Bad memories,” Honey murmured. “Are there any other places that have interesting stories?”

Abel nodded. “Of course. What kind of stories do you want to hear? This town has known its share of tragedies, of course, but some folks don’t like to hear those.”

“Not tragedies, please,” Honey requested. “Something happier.”

“The town mystery?” the old man suggested.

“That’s more our style,” Trixie answered, stepping closer. “We’re all about mysteries.”

Abel turned on the spot and began pointing out the places in question. “See the house over there with the tree leaning across its roof? Well, right next door to there was another house. It’s long gone now, but back in the day it was something of a boarding house. An old widow named Hensler lived there and took in single men for a small sum a week. One of the men that lived there was called John Nancarrow. If you’ll follow me, I’ll point out the place he worked.”

They walked back towards the middle of town, stopping outside the building they had identified earlier.

“This is the place,” Abel explained. “Nathaniel West had the place, back then. He was a lawyer. Lived in a house up near the high school; the one with the funny little sunroom with the pointy roof. You might have seen it. My old Dad told me that he was a good man, trustworthy. He had a big safe in his office, but he didn’t often have any valuables in it. Mostly, he just kept important papers in there. Every so often, he’d need to hold something and it would be all locked up, but for the most part it wasn’t even locked; he just used it like a big set of shelves. Now, one morning, Nate West came into his office to find that a huge hole had been made in the back wall and the safe was gone. Vanished. Never seen again.”

“They never found out what happened to it?” Honey prompted.

“Never did,” he answered. “Now, the thing was, the day that the safe was found to be missing was the same day that Nate West was supposed to hand over some valuables that he had in there and the owners of them valuables kicked up a right stink, as you might imagine. In the end, Nate West paid them out, from his own pocket, to get them to quiet down.”

“And where does the other man come into it?” Trixie asked. “The one whose house you pointed out to us.”

Abel made a satisfied sound. “Well, that’s an interesting part of the tale. He wasn’t under any particular suspicion – the whole town knew what was in there and that it was being handed over that day – but some time after the burglary, he disappeared one night.”

“Also never to be seen again?” Honey asked.

The old man shook his head. “Never to be seen in this town alive again, but no: a couple of years later, they found his body next to the building one morning, with his head crushed in by a fallen brick.”

“Did they ever find out how that happened to him?” Trixie was hanging on his every word. “Was he murdered?”

“There was plenty of speculation, but it was never really settled. Some people thought it was an accident and that where he was found was a plain coincidence.” Abel shook his head. “I don’t think so, though. I’m inclined to believe that he had something to do with the robbery. What he was doing next to that building in the night I couldn’t tell you.”

Trixie frowned. “It’s strange that it’s still there, with all that history of holes being knocked in it and falling bricks. Why didn’t they knock it down? Especially since someone died because of it.”

The old man shrugged. “I guess people lived closer to death in those days. Why knock down a valuable building just because of one death, when a bit of mortar is all you need to fix it right back up? And it wasn’t even all that grisly a death. I could tell you a tale or two of tragic deaths around here, ones that would make your hair stand on end.”

“I think we might pass on that,” Honey answered quickly, “but thank you all the same.”

The old man chuckled. “Any time. And those of you who are interested, I might tell you a tale or two when those of a more sensitive disposition are out of earshot.”

As her friends starting splitting up into smaller groups, Trixie managed to get Abel on his own, the promise of other stories almost ringing in her ears. Her curiosity had been aroused by some of the things she had seen in town, but she felt a reluctance to question him in front of the others, in case the answers to her questions were not to their liking.

“I was kind of wondering about that part of town down there, around the other end of First Street,” she mentioned to him, as they walked in that direction together. “It looks much more run-down than a lot of other places, like it was abandoned much earlier. Is there a story to that, or is it just coincidence?”

The old man drew in a whistling breath. “Is there a story? You bet there is. Come down that way and I’ll point out the sights. Now, you see that house there, the brick one with no roof?”

Trixie noted that it was a house she had examined earlier, the one not far from the fallen bridge. “Yes, I see it.”

“Well,” he continued, “that was the Porter family’s house. Long-established family here, among the first to settle in town. The last generation to live here were living in that house around the time I was born. Some of their older children were grown up and moved away at the time of the tragedy, but most of ’em were in the house when it caught alight – both parents, half a dozen children and one older son’s wife. Most of ’em were dead, of course, by the time anyone got here to help. Some of the children climbed out the window and ran to the neighbours, but they couldn’t give a sensible account of what happened.”

“But what did happen?” Trixie asked him, confused by the lack of detail.

He shook his head. “No one knows, for sure. Some said that the daughter-in-law set the house on fire deliberately, some say it was one of the parents, or even one of the children. If you ask me, it was one of the three adults – their bodies were all found together in the most badly-burned room and my old Dad told me there was talk at the time that at least one of them was dead before the fire started. Whatever happened, they just boarded the place up and the house stood empty and half-burned from that time onwards. People didn’t like living near it – or going near it, either; that’s when they put in the road that goes direct from the old highway to the church, past the high school. The son whose wife had died the day of the fire married someone else a few months later and set up house in that house over there – the half-fallen down one. They didn’t stay there long; they moved to the other side of town and tried to sell up here, but no one would buy that house. It was about that time that the rumours started about a haunting.”

Trixie glanced around to make sure that none of the others could overhear. The last thing she wanted was for Honey to get wind of a ghost story about the place. “What form did the haunting take?” she asked.

The old man laughed. “Oh, it was mostly just people feeling spooked while passing the ruin at night. They thought they saw movement, or heard sounds, but it was just the wind in the trees, or some animal passing by. The only time that anyone has reported an actual figure was the night the bridge went out – and it was raining so hard that I doubt anyone could see clearly in it.”

“What did they say they saw?”

“The figure of a woman in a long dress, standing in the middle of the bridge with her back to the driver. As they approached, she glanced over her shoulder at them.” He paused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “There were two people in the car. The driver thought that the woman looked kind of familiar, so he started slowing down in case she needed some help. His wife was in the passenger seat and she says the woman was standing in thin air, that she could see kind of a ghost of a bridge, but through it to the wreckage below. She screamed for him to stop. He took his eyes off the woman on the bridge and slammed on the brakes. They stopped just in time to avoid an accident. When he looked where she’d been, there was no one in sight.”

“And who were the people in the car?” Trixie asked, eyes wide. “Were they connected to the people from the house at all?”

Abel nodded. “It was the son of the second marriage.”

“Spooky,” she answered with a grin. “I just hope my friend Honey doesn’t hear about this – she doesn’t like spooky things. She’d probably leave right away and never come back.”

The old man laughed. “Well, she won’t hear it from me.”

Later in the afternoon, Trixie and Honey tried exploring one of the houses that they had not previously entered. The group had split up into smaller parties, each following their own interests as they explored. Trixie had handed out some of the keys and kept others for herself. She and her best friend had left the centre of town in favour of some of the more outlying residences. The house they had chosen was one of those in better condition, but which had not been inhabited for a decade or more.

“Someone’s been in here recently,” Trixie noted, as she walked through the house. “You can see footprints in the dust here and there, and look at that hand print.”

Honey shivered. “Maybe it was just Abel. I’d guess that he’d come into some of the houses now and then.”

Her friend shook her head. “There’s a really clear footprint over there. It doesn’t look like Abel’s old boots at all, or any kind of shoes I could imagine him wearing. It looks too big, too. I’d guess it was a much younger person who made them.”

Honey looked at the place indicated and nodded. “I see what you mean. Do you suppose it’s the same person who’s been staying in the post office?”

Trixie shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. It could have just been someone exploring out here sometime in the last couple of weeks, or even the last few months. And we haven’t seen any other sign that they’re still here. They might have gotten sick of camping out and just left their mess behind. There’s no reason to think they’re going to jump out at us from every corner.”

Nonetheless, Honey shivered. “I don’t think I like this house, Trixie. Let’s go and look somewhere else.”

Her friend shrugged and led the way outside, locking the door behind herself. “Let’s go up this way,” she suggested. “There’s a few interesting houses in this part of town and you haven’t seen the church yet, either. I made sure I had the key for it with me because I thought you’d like it.”

They walked in that direction, past houses and the school and into the lane that led to the large, brick church. Tall, mature trees blocked all but the steeple from view.

“It’s beautiful,” Honey exclaimed, as it they rounded a corner and it came into sight. “I love the patterns in the brickwork and the arched windows. Oh, and those cute little windows up there. There must have been a lot of people here, once, to have such a big church.”

Trixie shrugged. “Doesn’t really seem likely. It would have held the whole town, maybe even with some room to spare. They were probably just building for the future. Do you want to go inside?”

“Is it creepy?” her friend asked, with narrowed eyes.

Trixie shook her head. “It’s just dusty, mostly. They were using it up until a few years ago. I thought it seemed peaceful inside.”

Taking Honey’s lack of further objection for assent, Trixie ran lightly up the stairs and unlocked the huge door. It opened with an ominous creak. Together, they tiptoed into the building, voices hushed in the sanctified atmosphere. The front foyer was almost bare, almost everything having already been removed from it when the congregation moved to another church in the next town. The doors to the main part of the church were also closed. Trixie put a hand to one and swung it open so that they could enter. Patches of sunlight chequered the floor and pews of the old church. The vaulted ceiling stretched high above them and a gallery circled the upper part of the walls. Twin aisles led to the altar, which was still in place.

“It’s lovely,” Honey commented. “This is the kind of church I always pictured getting married in.”

“There’s nothing stopping you getting married here,” Trixie joked, as the two went up the stairs into the gallery. “I’ll just call you a clergyman – they have one in the next town. All you need to supply is the dress and the groom.”

Her friend shook her head and peeked over the balustrade to get a view of the church. She stifled a gasp when she saw the figure of a man walking down the aisle below them, but soon recognised that it was Dan.

“You scared me just then,” she called to him, making him jump in turn.

Dan looked up and over his shoulder to see the two girls. “What are you doing up there?”

“What are you doing down there?” Trixie countered. “We were just having a look around.”

Dan smiled. “Same. Kind of grand, compared to any church I’ve ever been in. I didn’t expect to see something like this in the middle of nowhere.”

“I keep telling everyone: this wasn’t always the middle of nowhere. Do they listen?” Trixie complained.

“Why should we?” Dan asked. He had walked all the way to the altar and stood behind it, looking down at an imaginary congregation. “Hey, do you think I have what it takes to be a priest?”

Honey began to splutter, but Trixie just laughed aloud. “No. I don’t think you’d last ten minutes. I thought you were Catholic. Their priests have to be celibate, you know.”

He gave a shrug. “So?”

“You do know what ‘celibate’ means, don’t you, Dan?” Honey asked in concern.

Dan laughed. “It means never being tied down, and keeping your affairs to yourself. I’d like to explore this place a bit. There’s probably some secret rooms in it, for the purpose of keeping affairs a secret.”

“He’s not serious, is he?” Honey asked, in low tones. She looked worried.

Trixie shook her head. “He’s just teasing.” To Dan, she replied, “Nice try, Danny, but this was originally a Lutheran church and they let their men of the cloth marry.”

Unconcerned, he gave a shrug and wandered through a door in the furthest wall. Trixie and Honey returned to the lower level and followed him. Behind the scenes, they found shabby rooms, filled with odds and ends that the congregation had not bothered to take with them when they left. From one room, Trixie opened a door and was surprised to find that it opened into the outdoors. The door was not, and could not be, locked.

“I guess we know somewhere to get out of the rain, if needed,” Trixie commented, as the pair walked out into the sunshine.

Honey looked around. “Where did Dan go?” she wondered. “I didn’t see him from the time he walked through that door.”

“He must have left already.” Trixie turned towards the front of the church, intent on locking the other door. “I didn’t see any hiding-places in there, did you? He must have found the same door we found and gone out through it.”

Honey nodded, but seemed unconvinced. “I just hope we’re not locking him in,” she fretted, as Trixie inserted the key into the lock.

Before she could turn it, the door swung open, seemingly by itself. As before, it gave an unearthly groan as it moved and both girls jumped in fright. The revealed doorway was empty.

“That’s kind of weird,” Honey whispered. “I’m not sure I like this church after all.”

Trixie shook off the disturbance and started to close the door. Just as it was about to catch, it swung back forcibly and a strong male arm caught her by the wrist. Both girls shrieked, as Trixie was dragged through the doorway and into the dim interior.

Continue to part 4.