Hell Within -- Chapter Three: The House -- Scenes 7&8

-7-

Glittering shafts of sunlight drifted into the room through the wall of arched windows to his right. On the far wall opposite him stood a maple bureau with an old-fashioned swiveling mirror attached to the back of it. And to either side of this bureau were archways, the one on the far left leading into a bathroom and the one on the far right leading through a narrow arched corridor into the master’s drawing room.

Tom stood in the door leading into the hallway gaping at him blankly.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the hell outta me," Ben snapped.

"I just came in to darken the room for you."

He stared at Tom feeling like an ass.

"I was having nightmares anyway."

Tom looked away. Then Ben realized the strangeness of his situation -- that he'd fallen asleep in the study, and had no recollection of having walked to the master's quarters.

"How the hell did I get in here?"

Tom smirked at him and then turned back toward the hallway.

"You must've walked."

"Hey, Tom?"

Tom turned back around and gave him a tired look.

"How did my parents die?"

Tom squinted at him, and a veil fell behind his eyes that Ben didn’t understand.

"I don't know. -- I’d moved away to college."

"Did they die in a car crash?"

Tom smiled. "I doubt that."

"Why?"

"The only car they had was a black ’50 Ford."

Ben looked at the wall again thinking of the photo album -- of how the first ten pages were full of pictures of a happy couple. But as time went on, they changed. They started taking fewer pictures, and they seemed beaten in the ones they took.

The picture of his mother that stood out in his mind was toward the end of her pregnancy. She stood by one of the front doors of the mansion with her hand resting on her bulging abdomen -- the life drained out of her face and no hint of the smile he'd become accustomed to in the first pages of the album.

But the most obvious was the last picture taken of his father. In it, his father was sitting behind the desk in the study smoking a cigar. He looked much older than he had in the pictures taken only a year and a half prior. His light brown hair looked somewhat gray, his skin had lost its tone, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you going back to sleep, or should I make some breakfast?" Tom was saying.

"Yeah, breakfast is good."

Tom nodded and started turn out of the room, but then he nodded to himself as if he’d just remembered something and turned back to face Ben.

"Your parent’s car sits on blocks in the garage. If they died in a car crash, it was in someone else’s car."

-8-

Later in the day, he went to town to meet with Steve Mize.

When he walked in, a secretary directed him to the back office. Inside the office, Steve sat behind a black lacquer desk with his nose poked in a file folder. When Ben stepped inside, the man placed the file folder on his desk and stood.

"Good afternoon," Steve said.

Ben nodded back at him.

Steve plucked his reading glasses from his face and smiled.

"Have a seat," he offered holding his hand out to the overstuffed leather chair before the desk. Ben sat down and crossed his legs, and then Steve followed suit.

"So, what did you think of the old place?"

"It's different."

"Yeah, up until three years ago, I'd take m’ grandson down there, and Trent and I would go fishing in the pond behind the house. Trent used to keep it stocked, and I caught some monster bass."

"Who's Trent?"

"The old caretaker of the place. -- He was a laid back old boy.
Went to church every Sunday but didn't mind drinking a Budweiser every now and then."

He paused for a moment as if remembering something, and Ben studied him. Steve didn't look to be as old as he had the day before. His skin was thin but not wrinkled, and he barely had any gray in his red hair -- except for his thin sideburns.

He looked to be one of those cool older men -- not far over the hill -- who didn't insist on listening to decades-old music and didn't gasp at how skimpy the girls wore their clothes these days.

Steve caught him staring, put his glasses back on and opened the file folder.

"I'm just gonna summarize this will."

"That's fine."

"It says that pursuant to the death of Theodore John Eaton and Jamie Marie Lancaster Eaton, you inherit the Lancaster family home, all its land, all the buildings on the land, and everything within those buildings. In addition to the family home, you are also the owner of all other properties owned or leased by the family, and it goes on to list them. It further says that you inherit all the family’s liquid assets now worth over thirty million -- which basically means that you're buying lunch."

"Thirty million dollars?" Ben echoed, shuddering.

"Yes sir," Steve said, handing him the will and lying several titles and four bank books on the desk before him.

"You were my father's friend?"

"He was like a brother."

"What happened to him?"

A poker face replaced Steve's smile, and he studied Ben in such a way that made him uncomfortable. -- Finally he sighed and sat back hard, tapping his silver pen against the surface of the desk.

"Your father was a good man. He loved his wife. Half the time, she was the most fun woman I’ve ever met; the other half. . . ."

He shook his head. "She was one of those bipolar types, you know. When she’d go through her bad spells, they couldn’t even leave the house."

"What happened to them?" Ben repeated.

Steve shrugged. "Your mother had a bad day."

Ben sat back in his chair. He didn’t want to know anymore.

They sat in silence for several minutes -- Steve reflecting and Ben fretting, and then looked back at him with a renewed smile.

"So have you decided what you’re gonna do with the place?"

Ben shrugged. "I guess I’m gonna find out what it’s like to live in a castle."

Steve smiled knowingly. "You think the money will save your marriage."

Ben didn’t agree or disagree.

Steve sat back in his chair. "It’s been my experience that once a couple gets lawyers involved, the deed is done."

Ben didn’t care.

After a moment, Steve nodded to himself, and stood up stretching out his hand.

"It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, sir. I hope that you’ll give me the first thought if you ever need an attorney again."

Ben smiled and shook the man’s hand. "Thanks."

And after he left Steve’s office, he went to Georgia Power to transfer the power bill to his name, and then he paid a visit to the phone company to have the phone lines updated.

He wondered if his inheritance really would change Amy’s mind.

(Coming Soon: Chapter Four: "The Children")