Between Dreams by Cynthia Austin

Author:Cynthia Austin [Austin, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Published: 2015-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

***

I had known the old McAllister house well. Every Heights resident did. It was a historical landmark, being the first library built in town. Established in 1853, its operation only lasted a few years during the gold rush years before being sold and converted into a residence.

Before I was born, the owners used to offer tours to the local school children during field trips. After its proprietor passed away, it had just been sitting there vacant for the last twenty or so years.

We strolled up the narrow walkway, passing the giant flag pole and up the wooden stairs that led to the stately wraparound porch with two massive white marble pillars on each side of the red front door. The porch light illuminated his beautiful face, which allowed me to sneak another glance.

I whispered, “I can’t believe you’re staying in this house.”

He smiled as he put the key in the keyhole. “Why…and why are we whispering?” he whispered back.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to wake your parents or anything.”

The smile dropped off of his face instantaneously, “You’d have to try a lot harder than that, Sidney.”

He turned the key and the lock clicked. Opening the door, he signaled for me to enter first. As I passed him he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You can’t wake the dead.”

I stopped in the entryway and turned to face him. I felt so terrible for even mentioning his parents. “Oh my god, Adrian. I’m so sorry.”

His smile returned. “I don’t think God has anything to with it, but thanks for your condolences.” He put his hand on the small of my back and gave me a gentle push into the foyer.

He turned on some lights and then headed towards the back of the house. I glanced around at the old estate. It looked pretty clean for being vacant for the past two decades. It had original hardwood floors with a matching staircase. The molding around the ceilings and windows were exquisite. The carvings in each piece were so unique and original you could tell they were done by hand and created by a master carpenter years ago. The living room was directly to the left with the staircase immediately in front of me. There was a long hall with several doors to the right. I walked to the left of the staircase, passing the living room, dining room, and eventually ending up in the kitchen.

It was a little outdated in appearance, like it had been remodeled in the 1930s. Adrian was at the yellow and teal-tiled counter preparing some coffee. I took a seat at the small dinette table and rubbed my eyes. The high from the alcohol was starting to fade and I was now fighting off drowsiness. I began to wonder why I had even come back here with Adrian. It was a good thing my home was only three blocks away. I could leave any time I wanted, which prompted me to begin taking mental notes of the nearest exit.

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