Keepers Of The Gate by E. Denise Billups

Author:E. Denise Billups [Billups, E. Denise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow City - A Next Chapter Imprint
Published: 2021-02-05T22:00:00+00:00

18

The Steamer Trunk

After the eye-opening chat with Cristal and Jayson, Twyla paces in front of the parlor fireplace with the steamer trunk on her mind. She glances at Tessa’s picture above the mantel, working up the courage to do what she believes she wanted her to do. “You left me the locket for a reason, didn’t you, Grams?” she mutters, thinking about the panic attacks whenever she nears the trunk. “Why didn’t you leave the locket to Mom?” For months, Twyla considered giving Skylar the key inside the locket, but suspects Grams wanted her to confront her childhood fears. But after talking to Cristal, she surmises there’s another reason.

Grams and Young George were the only ones who knew of her scare in the storage room. When she described the specter woman’s raven hair, widow’s peak, and pale skin, Tessa’s brows rose in awe and recognition. Twyla lost moments on that hair-raising night. Waking to the woman in the Grand Hall is vivid, descending the stairs, obscure. Even now, the woman’s translucent features haunt her. What else besides the ghost crept into her psyche to cause such unease? If it occurred during somnambulance, the chance of remembering is zilch. Perchance in dreams, but her nightmares are as much a mystery as her sleepwalking.

With time, her fear receded until Grams bequeathed her the locket 13 years later. Soon after Grams’ death, paralyzing anxiety reawakened when she ventured to the cellar. Her heart raced, a sweaty rash broke across her face and her clammy palms trembled around the key. She froze a few feet away from the trunk, turned and raced upstairs, just as she’d done as a child. But Young George wasn’t there to allay her fears as he’d done years ago. Now, with growing suspicions, curiosity overshadows fear.

She suspects she’d seen the woman more than once and believes she pines for the trunk or an item inside? From what she was told, the steamer holds photos, antiques, family memorabilia, precious lifetime collections. Grams stored every painting she’d ever drawn inside that metal box.

Over the years, a noticeable pattern of restlessness overtook Grams. When it struck, she’d take hikes around the garden, near the lake or to the trunk in the cellar. Twyla was too young to name Grams’ agitation. Now, more insightful, with losses of her own, the death of both Grams and Papa, she understands Tessa’s deep sigh-laden introspection whenever she spoke of ancestors. It was nostalgia. A restive longing for a bygone time? Ian recognized her wistfulness and said, “Don’t revel in the past, cherish the present, Tessa.” Twyla thought it just a wise aphorism, but now, she’s sure Grams longed for an erstwhile place where her restless feet itched to roam.

Once, Twyla found Grams seated beside the trunk, admiring her plastic-protected sketches inside the black leather portfolio on her lap. As she thumbed through drawings as if a family album, a furrowed-brow grin lit her face. Maybe a fond memory. She’d raised the portfolio, kissed the cover, then laid it in a hidden spot.

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