Authors: Lewis Stanek
“Do what she asks.” Ozzie stated with a shrug of his shoulders.
“There is plenty of time for that later my friends.” Heinrich said leading them out of the library back to the main staircase. “First, why don't we select our rooms for the night and make ourselves at home?” we followed Heinrich up the wide staircase to the second floor.
“To our right are the four rooms I had cleaned. I selected these four because they face each other two on a side of the corridor. This way we are provided with privacy, but in case of emergency help will be close at hand.” Randal would have preferred they all stayed in one room, each taking his turn standing guard allowing the others to get a little sleep, but what could possibly be hiding in this old house other than a horde of rats roaming in the walls.
This is silly, I'm letting my nerves get to me.
Randal thought as the others looked into the available rooms.
“I'll take this one”, Bridget exclaimed, “I've always wanted to sleep in a canopy bed. I'll feel like a princess tonight” Bridget disappeared behind a dark mahogany door elaborately carved with ornate designs and figures in suggestive poses into her dream room.
“It really doesn't matter to me, which room I get”, Randal lied, “I'll take whichever room is left.” He said forcing a bravado he didn't feel, wishing he could spend the night outside under the moon and stars free from the suffocating walls of Reuversweerd. Ozzie and the old man selected adjoining rooms opposite the hall from Bridget's leaving Randal standing alone in the shadows of the corridor.
“Well then, I guess this one is mine” He said to himself and walked into his room. He threw his duffel bag on the bed half expecting dust to fly up from the burgundy comforter, but not a speck lifted into the stale air. Randal ambled to the closest window drew back the drapes to let the days remaining light in to brighten the gloomy room. He gazed out across the grounds to the river, he could clearly see the old weeping willow where he rested and enjoyed his last bit of jerky. He had to admit to himself that at least this room provided a peaceful view. He opened the window and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Everything in the room, everything in Reuversweerd for that matter reeked of age and decay. Randal felt like a child lost in a museum. He opened a second window to allow a cross current of air to cleanse away the musty smell of the place.
Aired out the rooms my hairy ass.
Randal thought. A familiar sense of unease crept over him, the anxiousness, the excitement that always preceded a fire fight, but there is no possibility of a such a thing happening here in Reuversweerd. Randal tried to shake the feeling, but this demon wouldn't let him go that easily.
“Damn, damn, damn….” He muttered under his breath, low enough the other's wouldn't hear. He imagined he could feel the spirit of the place, the spirit of some ancient warfare, warfare far older than that of world war two, something primeval even after all these years vacant it filled the place, Reuversweerd pulsed with it, or did Randal bring it along in his own baggage? He wondered.
“What arrangements did you make for meals Heinrich?” Ozzie's voice carried well in the high ceilinged corridors of Reuversweerd.
“Wait and see, my impatient friend wait and see.” Randal heard Heinrich's reply, but not as clearly as he heard Ozzy. Randal had prepared as cheaply as he could with granola, a couple candy bars, and bag of beef jerky which he already consumed, he still carried his water bottle, but he neglected to refill it before leaving the hostel this morning.
If Heinrich is having this affair catered, it is all to the good.
The thought of a hot meal eased Randal's fears, just as it always did when he was coming back to camp from the field.
A hot meal the perfect reward for surviving another day.
Randal glanced around the room, the walls were papered in a deep blue with a overly large paisley designed paper similar to that adorning the walls of general Grant's home in Galena, Illinois. Randal remembered visiting the historic site as a boy on a field trip the wall paper there gave him nightmares for a week. What Theadora selected for this room would give anyone if not nightmares at least a severe a migraine headache.
Mahogany crown molding carved with the faces of cherubs grinned knowingly down on him as he further explored his room. the drapes and matching bedding burgundy looked to have been dyed in blood.
“
Cheery place
”
Randal said to himself and walked to the door he assumed led to the bathroom he knocked just in case Bridget was there then opened the door. He found the room was equipped with a claw foot tub, a pedestal sink with a ornate mirror hung above on the wall, and a commode, all the luxuries wartime Europe had to offer. Randal tapped on the door to Bridget's room, no response.
Through exploring Randal stepped out of his room into the corridor hoping to find a little company to distract him from his surroundings. He found Bridget standing in the hall staring at a portrait.
“Bridget, “ Randal said tapping her on the shoulder. She jumped just a bit, startled at his touch. Randal realized she must have been lost in concentration gazing into the face of a portrait hung on the corridor wall across from her bedroom door.
“He was a bit of a dandy, wasn't he?” indicating the man in the portrait with her thumb as she turned to face Randal.
“I didn't notice.” Randal replied taking a good look at the portrait for the first time. Standing perfectly at attention, wearing what must have been considered high fashion in the mid to late thirties, was a young man, who while striking a stern pose, but the artist managed to capture the merest twinkle in the eye thereby, softening the feel of the painting, and somewhat minimizing the otherwise stoic nature of the subject.
“Do you think that is the baron?” Randal asked.
“The baron, or Theadora's lover.” Bridget joked.
“The baroness did not take a lover! I can assure you of that.” Heinrich corrected sternly, offended that anyone would suggest such a thing of the baroness Theadora.
Dinner Conversation
“If you would follow me to the dining room I have arranged a what I had hoped would be a little surprise to help us celebrate the lives of the baron and baroness.” I asked the cook from Theadora's hostel to prepare a meal for us of all the baroness' favorite foods. Roasted pork loin with bread dumplings and sour kraut, apple strudel for desert and peppermint schnapps as an aperitif. Can you smell it yet, or is that only my imagination? Perhaps a good hearty meal and some good conversation will prepare us for our little journey tonight.”
“Journey? Where do you plan on taking us?” Ozzie asked.
“It's just a figure of speech, my young friend. Our journey is a metaphysical one and will begin and end here of course. No need to worry.” Heinrich replied casually, Leading them effortlessly through the unlit corridor, as though he walked this corridor many times before. Heinrich knew his way around the castle as well as if it were his own home.
“Food fit for a baron, now that's what I'm talking about.” Ozzie said eagerly following Heinrich's steps. Soon Heinrich led them to a pair of pocket doors, he slid them open revealing the dining room. The tantalizing aroma of roast pork, pickled beef, sour kraut, and fresh coffee filled the air. A buffet had been prepared for them set with buffet trays kept warm by tea candles burning beneath the trays of food. The aroma was inviting them to help themselves, but they waited nonetheless. A fire burning in the fireplace, Randal assumed was for atmosphere than warmth, but it could get pretty chilly at night this time of year.
“Please help yourselves, there is plenty for everyone.” Heinrich said with a wave of his arm indicating the buffet. Ozzie led the group serving himself large helpings of everything available.
“What no wine?” Ozzie asked in jest. Bridget quickly elbowed Ozzie in the ribs.
“What did I say?”
“There are a couple of bottles of good
Riesling on the table.” Heinrich replied picking up a plate at the buffet and selecting a choice slice or two of roast.
“This brings back memories, such good memories, from before the war.” Heinrich remarked while adding a couple of bread dumplings to his plate.
“You were close to the family then?” Randal asked, encouraging Heinrich to continue.
“Theadora, I mean the baroness had a way of making the help feel appreciated as if they were part of the family, or family friends. The baron though was always all business when dealing with the help. It was “do this and do it now” with the baron and you had better not forget it, if you knew what was good for you.”
“Some people don't spend the time to get to know who works for them and treat their employees like emotionless robots.” Randal offered in reply.
“The baron, wasn't that bad, but he did treat us like his servants without any regard for any of us as individuals. I don't think I would have stayed here as long as I did, if it was just the baron. I think I would have rather worked in the coal mines, but baroness Theadora would show she appreciated you and the things you did for her, she is the reason I stayed as long as I did. She was truly a lady of grace.”
“The baron must have had something going for him.” Ozzie stated “Otherwise, why would such a fine woman stay with him?” He asked.
“That is a question I asked myself many times, my young friend, many times.” Heinrich replied taking his seat at the table. He shook out the folded linen napkin at his table setting and laid it upon his lap.
“You know more about the castle than any of us, Heinrich, Tell us what we can expect here tonight.” Bridget asked taking a sip of her wine. Randal was still at the buffet filling his diner plate with pickled beef and dumplings. Heinrich's reply caught him off guard.
“We can expect nothing less than the supernatural tonight. That is what I expect and that is why I allowed you to come and stay with me here. I must admit I fear I would die of fright at the first manifestation of the baron if I were here alone.” Heinrich confessed sheepishly. “I hope you all will join me in the parlor later to experiment with Theadora's planchette.”
“Planchete?” Randal questioned.
“Yeah, it is like an accessory to a Ouija board. They used those to talk with the dead back in the olden days. There is a place to insert a pencil so the spirit can write what it wants to say.” Bridget replied.
“I know that the townsfolk think this house has been abandoned all these years and in a sense I suppose it has, but every night the baroness would come back to the castle, go into her parlor and use her planchette to commune with the baron.
“When I was a kid we had an Ouija board at home, at first we thought it was just a silly game, but you would be surprised at some of the things it said, some of the things it knew. It was downright spooky. After a couple of scary nights my mother forbid us to ever use it again and threw it out, but I snuck out and dug it out of the trash and hid it in my room before the garbage men could get it. I would bring it out whenever I had a slumber party, or if I needed to know if my boyfriend was seeing someone else.” You would be amazed how accurate the Ouija could be sometimes. When my mother found it under my mattress, she had a fit and burned it in the fire pit in our back yard.”
“So that was the end to that, huh?” Ozzie asked.
“You would think so, but it wasn't. The Ouija board was gone, but the spirits who used it were still there and they were angry. Our house was infested with poltergeists after that. It was the beginning of our own personal haunting,”
“Surely you're being a little melodramatic.” Randal said setting his plate at the table and taking a seat with the others.
“You think so? You weren't there, Randal. You didn't live it like I did. Maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, but it is my life, my experience. I know what happened.” Bridget replied angry with Randal for doubting her word. She looked to her plate and focused on moving her food around on her plate, pouting.
“I'm sorry Bridget, you're right, I wasn't there, I don't know what happened.”
“One would think you'd be glad to have someone with a little experience in the paranormal with us on our little adventure.” Heinrich opined.
“I didn't mean any insult. I didn't know, How could I know?” Randal replied weakly.
“Let's not let this spoil our meal.” Heinrich said, “Later tonight I want to use Theadora's table and planchette to attempt to communicate with her. I am hoping we can have a successful séance of our own here tonight in Theadora's private parlor.” Randal forced himself to swallow his food.
It is one thing to come to an alleged haunted house and explore a bit maybe even spend the night, but having a séance, that is simply poking a bee hive with a stick.
Randal thought.
“This was something I wanted to do ever since the baroness died, but to be honest I was too frightened to do it alone, but then you three came along. What do you call it? Ah serendipity, that's the word! Serendipity, a fortunate surprise and here we are new friends starting out on a new adventure.” Heinrich sounded sincerely happy to be here.
“Heinrich, is there something you aren't telling us about this old house?” Ozzie asked between bites of food.
“What can I say about Castle Reuversweerd? True there is more to tell than I have told you, but where would I begin. It's not that I'm trying to keep anything from you, but you see the castle has been part of my life for many years. I know it well, perhaps too well to know what is important to share with you and what can be left unsaid.” Heinrich took a sip of his wine and continued. “Many stories have been told of this house over the years. People disappear and it gets blamed on the house, imagine that, huh. How is a house, even if it is called a castle going to make someone vanish? People claim they see movement in the windows at night, that they hear screams coming from Reuversweerd at odd hours. It is all nonsense and bunk.”
“You said we are going to have a séance here tonight, how can you say it is all nonsense and bunk if you believe in seances?” Randal asked.
“Randal, some things are obvious nonsense and bunk, while others are actual events, the trick is to know the difference and act accordingly. That the baroness held her seances here almost every night to visit with the baron, I'm certain is true, but screams and people disappearing that is just poppycock the townsfolk made up to scare themselves out of their doldrums. You will see, we all will in time. Enough about this old place. Let's get to know each other a little better before nightfall. How about you start, Randal, what can you tell us about yourself?” Randal poured myself a second glass of wine, then nodded and began.
“You all know my name is Randal Carter, until recently I was a sergeant in the United States Army. I've been deployed and redeployed into the middle east and have seen more senseless death and destruction than a man should have to. When my time came up, I knew I wasn't ready to go back to the world. I wouldn't fit, not anymore. I'm not the person I once was. Any way I remembered my grandfather telling me he went for a walking tour after WWI before going home to Holland and I got the bright idea of going on one myself before returning to the United States. I'm hoping it gives me time to relax and consider where I am going to go from here and what I am going to do with my life.”
“So you're a soldier, but that can't be all you are.” Bridget said with a wink. The light was beginning to dim, and Heinrich lit the candles in the candelabra on the table providing a warm glow and sense of intimacy to the evening's milieu.
“What about you, Bridget?” Ozzie asked saving Randal from unwanted probing, he was grateful to have the attention taken off of him and placed squarely on Bridget.
“Nothing exciting about my life. I'm just a poor little rich girl taking a break from school to roam Europe for a while.”
“What are you studying in school?” Randal asked, leaning forward.
“Art, I've been studying at the Art Institute for the last two years. I'm taking time to find myself, artistically speaking, that is. Do I want to go the commercial route and make money using my skills to sell unneeded and unwanted products to the masses, or do I want to go my own way and create for art's sake alone?”
“Which way are you leaning?” Ozzie asked.
“I'm leaning towards enjoying myself until life forces me to grow up and be responsible.” She replied with an ingratiating smile.
“Now, that sounds like a plan to me.” Ozzie replied.
“What about you Ozzie?” Randal asked between bites of roast.
“I honestly don't know. I realize I will have to grow up and live a productive life at some point, but I'm not ready yet. I've been hoping something would catch my interest, like art has called to Bridget, but so far nothing has so I've spent the past year scrounging around doing whatever I had to to support my traveling make as far as I can. My father says I'm running away from adulthood, maybe I am. I know I can always work for my father when I'm ready to settle down, but seriously who wants to settle down? That's enough about me” Ozzie said with a smile, “How about you Heinrich, what is you story?”
“Ozzie, Bridget, and even you Randal, with all your military experience behind you, are all still only starting out in life. Your lives stand before you waiting for you to take the next step into your personal futures facing the unknown, hopefully living your dreams and achieving you goals. For me, the greater part of my life is behind me. The only unknown I have yet to face is that which we all must face at one point or another, that being death. I am an old man, my friends, family and loves have all preceded me into the unknown. I grow curious and am impatient to learn what lies beyond this life. That is why I am here with you. I suppose I could have done this alone, but honestly I am afraid of what I might find. I am not here for kicks, I'm here to take a peek at the next step in my life.”
“I've seen enough of death, Heinrich, I can tell you that it is the end, there is nothing coming afterwards, you die and that is it.” Randal blurted out.
“That is a bit cold, Randal.” Bridget scolded.
“There is no way you can know that for certain,” Heinrich continued, “no matter how many deaths you have seen in battle, no matter how many men you have killed, you cannot know for sure. Randal, I have seen war myself, death has not been a stranger to me, but I hope and pray that it is not simply the end of existence. There must be something more. God willing, maybe we will find out for ourselves tonight.” Heinrich replied then swallowed the last of his wine.
“I for one, believe that life after death makes perfect sense.”
“Is that so, Bridget?” Ozzie questioned.
“Without a doubt, I experienced some things using the Ouija board before my mother burned it, and experienced even more afterwards. If it wasn't the spirits of the dead, I don't even want to consider What it could have been.”