Peripheral Vision: A Supernatural Thriller(15)
“It was a peaceful, quiet way to go. It’s how she wanted it... here in her house and not some cold hospital room.” Nick lead Sarah out of the bedroom.
“You were closer to her than you let on before.”
Nick nodded.
“What was she like, Nick?”
He paused for a moment, really thinking about what he wanted to say next, and then closed the bedroom door. “She was a good person. Smart and independent, strong... lonely, funny, sad, proud, creative... she was... we were friends, I guess… I was sad to see her go, but I’m glad I’ve met her niece.”
Sarah smiled as they walked back down the hallway. The empty picture frame on the wall again snatched her attention.
“Why the empty frame?”
“Not really sure. Never really noticed it before.”
“Strange. There doesn’t seem to be any photos anywhere. I was hoping to see a picture of her. I still don’t know what she looked like.”
“I don’t know if you’ll have much luck, actually. I know after she got sick, she didn’t really even want to look in the mirror anymore, let alone see old photos of herself.”
“Maybe an old photo album or something?”
“Can’t help you there. But maybe?”
“I guess I have some exploring to do. Ah, the guest bedroom. This’ll be a good jumping off point.” Sarah walked into the bedroom and dropped her bag on the bed. At the same time Nick’s phone beeped-a new text message.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I let you hang out here by yourself for a couple of hours? I just had this little job come up, and I could definitely use the money right now.”
“Yeah, no problem, it’ll give me time to explore.”
“Right on. Sorry. I can swing back out around lunch time and give ya a ride back to town if that works?”
“Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
Nick reached into his pocket and handed Sarah his business card.
“My card... If you need anything, just give me a call. I’ll see ya in a bit.” Nick waved as he left.
“Bye.” Sarah said, and then laughed as she read his business card. The Homewood Handyman.
Nick jumped in his truck and backed down the gravel driveway, away from the house and down the dirt road. As he drove across the bridge, he tapped his brakes and came to a complete stop in the middle of the bridge. He stared out over the river. The murky shadows of the deeper side of the river were quite visible from this height, he noticed. Nick cocked his head to the side. He looked as though he was listening for something. It was only a momentary look however, and then he found himself staring back at the Bayard House. He smiled. He was thinking of Sarah. It was hard not to. Nick let his foot off the brake and drove away, across the bridge and down the gravel road on the other side.
●
Sarah stood next to the bed in the guest bedroom, unpacking her one bag. She would need to get the rest of her things from the motel room later. It didn’t take her long to finish unpacking, as she was anxious to look around some more. She placed the last of her folded clothes in the dresser and walked around the bedroom taking everything in. She looked in the closet, opened up drawers, and even looked under the bed. Her thorough exploration of the bedroom, however, didn’t provide anything interesting. She walked out into the hallway, again looking up at the photo-less frame mounted on the wall, and then made her way down the stairs and into the living room. The fireplace was well stoked now, and she paused to warm her hands next to the fire. The house was very quiet. Almost too quiet for Sarah as she continued to look around each room. There wasn’t a lot to look at. Just a worn-out rocking chair and some dusty, wooden end tables. She paused in front of the south window, which looked out in the direction of the barn and the twisting river.
“What was its name again?” She asked the empty room. Sarah stood there in silence, waiting for an answer, but none was given. She turned and walked under the archway of the living room and into the kitchen. On the far wall next to the kitchen table was a deteriorated looking door with a small window. Sarah opened the door and then unlocked and opened the screen door on the other side. She stepped outside into the crisp, morning air. She enjoyed the fresh air as she walked away from the house. She found herself smiling as she passed an aged, wooden building with its doors opened. Inside, she could see what looked like a rusted tractor. The Machine Shop, she thought, and then she walked past the empty chicken coop, the sun-faded red barn, and down to the river bank. She stopped. The river twisted in front of her.
“It’s beautiful.” She pushed her legs through the tall grass and weeds along the riverbank, taking in the scenery, and whistling as she wandered. It was a familiar tune...the song… from her dreams. Perhaps something from the twenties, but who could be sure anymore. Sarah came to a spot close to the water and sat down cross-legged in the grass. She looked up at the clouds and took in the warmth of the sunlight on her face. Then her eyes closed and she inhaled the fresh country air and held it for a minute, before exhaling slowly.
“It’s okay... “ Her mouth moved only slightly as the words, barely audible, seemed to slip out involuntarily from between her lips. Sarah’s eyes opened suddenly. She was confused as to why she had just said that. She shivered. It was cold again. Sarah got to her feet and walked back towards the house. She stopped once along the way to look back at the river, then quickly continued on back to the house.