Lost Art of Mystery

Hannah

Christmas Day. Raspy rhythmic heavy breathing punctuated by an intermittent sputtering cough streamed via the baby monitor from her elderly mother’s bedroom. Hannah had recently turned 65 and the idea of spending yet another holiday here was indeed a bitter pill to swallow, but she had long ago accepted this as her lot in life. Dragging herself out of the old twin bed in the guest room, she paused as her leg cramped, cursing loudly while shaking it out. Laughing sarcastically at the absurdity of it all, she headed down the dimly lit Persian carpeted hallway to her mother’s bedroom. As always, the elderly woman slept soundly, lying on her back in a luxurious plush queen sized bed, snoring with her mouth agape. The room was darkened with heavy dark vintage velvet drapery, the air stuffy, smelling of urine, bleach and a faint hint of Chanel No 5.

Hannah left the bedroom door ajar as she quietly headed towards the foyer. Pulling on her oversized down coat and slipping into snow boots, she caught a glimpse of herself in the massive ornately carved antique mirror. Alarmed, she hardly recognized the miserable grey haired woman with a thin drawn face and beady deep set eyes staring back at her. Hannah sighed loudly, stuffing her phone into a pocket and headed out for her early morning ritual.

As she made her way along the lonely trail, a furious gust of wind whipped up with a terrifying high pitched howl from out of nowhere. The powerful blast rustled the remaining dry leaves clinging to barren brittle branches. She pulled her hood tight and shoved her hands into cozy pockets. Deeply inhaling the crisp morning autumn air, she counted to 10 as she walked along the trail. From the corner of her eye, she saw what appeared to be a small bird fluttering towards her from deep in the woods. As it came closer, she realized it was a lone oak leaf. The leaf paused briefly just ahead of her, curling its edges in the wind as if it was trying to tell her something. Suddenly, it was whisked up into the air where it hovered momentarily before gently drifting down to the ground. As she passed the leaf, she paused, expecting it to see it move again. The leaf had landed on a frayed scrap of faded denim sticking out from a patch of frozen mud. Strange, she thought with a sigh, then kept on walking. Ever since caregiving for her declining mother, she had been having a lot of inexplicable experiences.

She checked the time and walked faster in order to get back by 10 am to wake her mother for breakfast. Hannah cherished early mornings. It was the only time of day when Dorothy slept soundly and she had time to herself. The path widened and the woods opened into a large snow blanketed field. She followed the trail uphill to a lookout. From the vista she saw it, a vision perched on a picturesque piece of property, with its dramatic view of the river below; the Hanover Family Estate. She continued walking towards until she reached the long winding driveway lined with stoic cypress trees which lead towards the decadent mansion. Ivy had grown over much of the stone facing, and the granite steps up to the grand entrance were beginning to crumble. The oversized dark red door with brass knockers was in desperate need of a new coat of paint. Even so, she paused to marvel at its majestic appearance each and every time she came back from her walks. She loved to see old photos of the place. In its glory, the estate had been a retreat for foreign dignitaries, famous and infamous characters, and even some kings and queens. Countless stories had been passed down over the decades and she tried her best to keep records. She’d even built an archive in the library from the photos and documents. Her mother had never the time nor energy to do it, and all of the other relatives had passed on long ago. Hannah felt it was her duty to preserve the home, even if it meant that one day she would donate it. There weren’t many places left as intact as this one. Most had crumbled beyond repair, or worse, been bought and “updated” with no regard for the integrity of materials or historical accuracy. The fabulous Hanover Estate on the banks of the Hudson River would be an ideal destination for fall foliage tourists, private events, as well as history buffs from all walks of life.

Using the original oversized brass key, she unlocked the massive front door and slowly pushed it open while gripping the heavy metal handle firmly so it wouldn’t squeak. She didn’t want to wake her mother early. As soon as she was up, her peace would end for the day. Toileting, dressing, cooking, cleaning, and keeping the elderly lady entertained was a full time job. This was not something she had ever anticipated doing, especially at a time when she had expected to be focusing on her own life, and spending more time with her only child, a daughter who was away at college.

Gemma

Gemma was immersed in her biology program focusing on going into rare species studies, when her mother, Hannah, began falling ill. Initially, she took vacation time to assist her family, but it soon became apparent that the situation at the Hanover Estate was not sustainable. By this time, Hannah had been caring for Dorothy a few years. Between the demands of caregiving and her own declining health, she could no longer handle the situation alone. Dorothy, being a very stubborn woman, insisted vehemently on remaining in her own home. She repeatedly threatened to give the entire inheritance to the groundskeepers, if her daughter and granddaughter refused to care for her. She was resistant to any other caregivers coming into her estate. On the rare occasion when they had hired in a nurse or aide it was more disastrous than the last, and the hired help would inevitably leave in tears. She only her allowed her daughter or granddaughter. Not even her daughter’s ex husband could enter the home without encountering fits of rage and resistance. A doctor visited every 6 months to do a wellness exam, and that was about it. With Gemma away at college, the bulk of responsibilities fell on Hannah. When Hannah first began to get sick, it appeared to be a typical case of caregiver burnout. Gemma came during college breaks and helped as much as she could, but it became obvious that this wasn’t enough.

Dorothy

Looking back, things all really started to go downhill the year Dorothy turned 60. A vibrant, confidant and beautiful woman, she had always lived an active life, had a myriad of friends and social engagements. Her favorite hobbies other than fashion and parties, were her flower gardens, where she would spend hours and hours. When in bloom, she picked the spectacular flowers and created gorgeous arrangements for the grand foyer. Guests marveled at the gardens, and they often took walks with her to look at the variety of roses and topiaries she had designed. However, everything changed one day. While cutting some of her favorite peonies, she thought she saw someone or something lurking in the bushes across from her. Alarmed, she quickly stood up, got lightheaded, and fell, hitting her head on a large decorative rock. She was found on the ground shortly after by maintenance workers who quickly took her to the hospital. A small cut was stitched up and she was given advice to rest a couple of days. For a little while, she seemed fine. However, during the weeks and months after the accident, her personality changed dramatically. She stopped going to social events, and became more and more reclusive. She developed fixations on the past, especially on her ex husbands and former lovers. Above all, she began to obsess over her appearance and scrutinize every detail of her physical self. A former beauty queen, she still had elegant style and maintained her dyed blonde hair in a coifed bun. She took great pride in looking much younger than her actual age. She had always been a vain woman, but the vanity now escalated. Around this time, she began to spend inordinate amounts of time in her powder room, putting on skin creams and fussing with makeup, then removing it all with cold cream and tissues, repeatedly. In the beginning, her violent outbursts centered around the skincare not being good enough quality, blaming the cosmetics companies. She raged and screamed into the mirror in hysterical fits, throwing jars of creams and lotions, tossing tissues on the floor, and making a huge mess for the housekeepers.

Poring through fashion magazines for the latest in beauty products, she began demanding that Hannah pick up exclusive skin creams when she went into the city for her medical appointments, even if it meant driving out of her way. Dorothy had always been a selfish and self-centered woman with narcissistic tendencies. With age, and especially after the fall, she had become much more so. And on top of that, she was often mean, sarcastic and bitter. She complained about the small lines forming around her eyes, and she screamed with rage when she was woken up too early, claiming that others were robbing her of precious beauty sleep.

The condition progressed. The doctor told Hannah it was likely an early onset dementia and that the symptoms could ebb and flow, but it was likely triggered by hitting her head, or it could have been a genetic predisposition. After sundown, Dorothy’s personality morphed. Confused, disoriented and lost, her conversations looped and she didn’t recognize her own daughter or even know where she was. Once in bed, she would toss and turn, yelling out randomly at imaginary beings. Hannah found herself getting up multiple times all night to assist her mother with the bathroom, changing her adult diapers, and making sure her every need was met. This would continue until around 2 am, after which her mother would become even more agitated. Rabid and erratic, she began getting out of bed, putting on her coat and a full face of makeup. Initially, she would pace the hallways, calling out the names of her ex husbands and cursing them interchangeably. Shortly thereafter, she began to leave the house from the front door, and wander. When it started, Hannah followed her and even tried locking her in, but this only exacerbated her mother’s outbursts, and she would hurl heavy objects like vases and books through the glass paned windows to escape. Hannah watched in desperation as she trailed behind, but once outdoors, her mother would settle down, seem a lot like her old self, and become soft and friendly, saying she just needed fresh air. If Hannah attempted to call her back into the mansion from the front doors, Dorothy would run towards the woods flailing her arms while screaming and growling like a wild animal at her terrified daughter. Hannah gave up on trying to get her to return, since she always came back by 5 am, got back in bed on her own and slept soundly until 10 am. Although strange, at least it was a routine of some sort. She would wake her mother at 10 am daily, and over time, she noticed an impressive increase in her overall vitality.

The Party

Hannah’s health had never been great; sickly as a child, she had been able to manage her various conditions up until now. However, caregiving for her mother, gave much less time for her own health, and she had even needed to quit her research job at the local historical society, which she loved dearly. As time passed, she saw herself age rapidly and started to experience inexplicable pains and weight loss. Meanwhile, her mother, Dorothy, was getting stronger daily, ate like a horse, and due to her vigilant skincare regimen and pricey products, she began to look younger and even had a renewed energy and zest for life. It was almost as though she was aging in reverse, while Hannah was clearly wasting away and losing all of her vitality.

The Christmas celebration was supposed to have been a family vacation to a distant cousin’s upstate country home, but due to Hannah’s health condition and Dorothy’s unpredictable outbursts, they decided to keep it at the mansion. The extravagant menu had been prepared by personal chefs, and they hired in professional party planners to have the entire place decked out. Holiday decorations filled the entryway, and a huge fir tree was elegantly draped in vintage tinsel and tiny white lights. The grand fireplace was lit, the Steinway polished, and the place looked outrageously sumptuous and decadent. A local music trio arrived to perform during and after dinner. The guests were some of their long time neighbors who came over for an early afternoon of cocktails followed by a feast. Dorothy looked better than ever. She made her grand entrance to the party dressed to the nines, in a fabulous full length crimson gown with a fitted bustier and multiple pearl necklaces covering her chest. Her skin glowed, the makeup enhanced her glittering blue eyes, and her pale blonde-grey hair was swept into a flawless bun. Although she used a cane, it seemed she barely needed it anymore. Meanwhile, her daughter appeared pale and thin. Her dull brown hair was flat and oily with grey roots. She wore a simple black turtleneck dress with brand new designer black pumps and a vintage gold mistletoe necklace garnished with rubies. Gemma arrived a bit later, having taken the train up from the city. She came through the door, wearing a big puffer coat a knit hat with rabbit ears and snow boots. Her big backpack was tossed in the corner as she ran to hug her mother. A tall and big boned girl, she was beautiful, vibrant and bubbly. Her curly brown hair cascaded down her back and she had her father’s deep olive skintone along with her mother’s blue eyes. The energy of the place immediately elevated the moment she walked in. She was flourishing at university, and couldn’t wait to apply for her PhD. Her enthusiasm was contagious and even her mother perked up in her presence. Hannah listened intently as her daughter told her all about college life. She was especially excited to talk about a young man she had recently started dating. It was her very first serious relationship. Enjoying meaningful conversation was something the mother and daughter had missed out on due to the situation with her grandmother. Meanwhile, Dorothy was in great form and she focused on impressing the other guests with her tales of the all of the famous people who used to live on the estate. Gemma loved her mother and felt a deep sadness seeing her trapped on this property. She didn’t know what to do to help, but she wasn’t ready to give up her aspirations and dreams at such a young age. Her mother didn’t ask or want her to either. It was just a very difficult situation with no great solution.

During dinner, the neighbors remarked on how impressed they were with Dorothy’s improved condition. She gushed and glowed with all of the attention lavished on her. It was remarkable. Perhaps it was the candlelight, her makeup, or all of her high end skincare products, but she appeared vastly younger than her 85 years. She giggled like a young lady when the personal chef came out to offer her a special drink he had created just for her, he called it the “AdoreMe”. She brazenly flirted, staring into his eyes as she carefully pursed her crimson lips to take a slow sip. It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who, after sundown, became wild and unpredictable, wearing adult diapers and yelling nonsense intermittently as she wandered out into the woods, with no comprehension of time or place. Confused glances were exchanged by the guests who were aware of her health issues and rumors of her strange behaviors.

After copious amounts of wine, one of the guests, an eccentric former ballerina from NYC, wearing an oversized feathered headdress with an all white sequins bodystocking, leaned over to whisper to the elderly overweight man next to her. He perked up with curiosity as she asked if he had heard about the missing local woman. His eyes widened as he slowly shook his head, pushed his thinning hair over the bald head with thick fingers, and adjusted his gold pinky ring. Clearing his throat to interrupt the rest of the table, he asked whether anyone had heard news of the woman who had gone missing last month. Everyone started to clamor in with ideas and theories. Most assumed that she had run away. The gorgeous, wealthy young newlywed had recently moved up from the city with her husband. He was a commuter who worked on Wall Street and would stay in the city for a few nights a week, while she tended to the small farm they had bought. There was a lot of gossip about the couple in the area, since anytime someone new arrived, they were greeted with suspicion and critical judgement. Apparently, the couple were converting the old farm property in order to sell organic vegetables. During the week, she was very busy working on preparing the farm for the next season. She was friendly with the locals and had even invited some of them to visit the property while she was in the In addition, they had a few goats and she had two horses. Apparently, last month when he got back from his work week, his wife was nowhere to be found. The horses were out of the barn, and the goats had gotten inside the mudroom where they’d made a terrible mess. The house was unlocked and she had left her personal affects untouched. The group quarreled over the possibilities and one of the guests even had a friend in the local police force who had told him that it was a downright mystery. She had basically vanished without a trace. No sign of foul play and nothing discovered as of yet to indicate so. Everyone had ideas, ranging from alien abduction to human trafficking abduction, to a juicy wild affair. It was a real life mystery.

As the guests bantered and went into detail over the missing woman, Hannah quietly excused herself to go lie down before dessert was even served. After a few cordials and luscious cakes, the party retired to the living room around the fireplace. They sat in the overstuffed velvet chairs, as the embers crackled in the background and they continued to chat and banter late into the night. Gemma, who was worried about her mother, went to check on her a few times. She was alarmed by how gaunt her mother looked, and sat by the bed watching the small faded eyes flutter open and closed. She asked her what the latest prognosis was, and whether the doctor had changed her treatment plan. Hannah just slowly blinked her eyes and moved her head side to side. “Mom, you can’t keep going like this. I’ve decided to take a semester off to help grandma and I can do my studies remote while you recover. I’ve made all of the arrangements. Sam even offered to come up and visit me here so you’ll get to meet him! Mom? ” Her mother was still. Her breathing very shallow. Hannah gently touched her mother’s frail arm, shocked at how thin and cool it was. She looked like a skeleton lying there with hollowed cheeks and a grey complexion. “Mom? I want to help. Mom?” Tears welled up in her eyes and dropped onto her soft downy cheeks. She stared at her mother through the tears and saw a glimpse of her in her younger years, when she was a vibrant woman, working as a researcher for a historical society. It was hard to believe this was the same person. She had a moment of cognitive dissonance. It was interrupted as her mother slowly lifted her hand and held it high up as if saying stop. Then she let her arm fall to the bed, and let out a long loud expiration. Gemma stared in shock and felt for a pulse. Her mother was not breathing. She waited a moment, then tried again. In shock, she jumped up and called 911, who instructed her to check again. Nothing. The ambulance was called. The party had been ending, but the sound of the ambulance arriving sobered up the remaining guests and they huddled together in concern. The paramedics rushed in and her mother was pronounced DOA. The guests clamored around to find out what happened and reassuring Dorothy who collapsed onto her chaise lounge in a pile of red taffeta and tulle. The guests followed the gurney to the doorway and in shock, they stood in the foyer watching the red flashing lights trail into the distance.

The funeral was very small and held on the private family plot overlooking the Hudson River. Dorothy sat in her wheelchair, draped in a plaid woolen blanket. She was dressed elegantly with a speckled black veil, dark red lipstick and shiny black gloves. Holding the umbrella over them both was Gemma, dressed in a simple black long dress with a blazer over it. The only other attendees were the caretakers for the property, a couple of the neighbors from the party and the funeral attendants. In the distance, Hannah’s ex husband, Gemma’s father, stood, occasionally wiping a tear from his face. It was an ice cold day with sleet and a winter snowstorm on route. After the service, Gemma took her grandmother back to the estate and set her up in the living room by the fireplace. In the kitchen her tears flowed freely, but as she went too the living room, she wiped her face swiftly and pulled herself together as much as she could. She knew how Dorothy hated displays of emotion and the last thing she wanted was to have drama. She brought tea and cookies to her grandmother, and sat across from her in the overstuffed wingback chair. Dorothy looked calm as she sipped her tea. She cleared her throat. “You know, Gemma, your mother, well, we all know that she was never a healthy child. She had a weak countenance, dear. From the day she was born. Thankfully, you’re a much stronger person. You are more like me. You know, they say that the granddaughter is gifted most of her genetic material from her maternal grandmother, so you are fortunate with that fact. It’s sad, I know, but this is how life goes. We have to accept things. We need to move on. I’m not planning on going anywhere soon, even though I have health problems of my own. Obviously, I am going to need your help, as I’m sure you’re well aware. Have you made arrangements with your University? I know you can do some sort of remote schooling and I’m counting on you being here for me during my time of need. Without your mother here, I cannot manage alone and you well know where I stand regarding hired help. I am absolutely not moving and nobody is moving in. Unless you want to forfeit your inheritance, which I know you don’t, especially now, since everything, including the estate is to be willed to you, it’s a small price to pay, to care for me, while you will not even need to work if you choose. It’s really the only option we have.”

Nocturnal Activities

Going forward, Gemma adjusted the best she could, getting up at 5 am every morning, to make herself coffee and do some studying. At 9 she would set out for a daily walk; rain, sleet, snow or sun. It was her time to breathe and find balance. She was able to continue her education online and although not ideal, she still found joy in learning and continued to excell. The schedule with her grandmother was difficult, but she was young enough to manage it. By 10 AM she was back at the estate and her life belonged to Dorothy until sundown. Dorothy’s requirements were demanding, but as long as she had her freedom in the morning, it was manageable.

Gemma was a night owl, so she used the evening to study and stay on high alert for her grandmother. Dorothy continued to morph after sundown and wander. Gemma would stay up studying until she returned which was always by 5 am. In the depth of winter, she would sit by the window and look out onto the snowy landscape and the adjacent forest, waiting for her grandmother to appear from the wooded path, and walk up the steps through the front door. She always appeared the same, walking with her cane, slowly through the night in a daze, wrapped in her coat, and quietly opening and closing the door behind her. She would leave her boots in the foyer, and head to her room, where she was back in bed and sound asleep until 10 am when woken for breakfast. It was strange to Gemma, but the sense of routine was comforting to her in an all too uncomfortable situation.

One night, she had been studying deep sea life on her laptop and watching videos of the strange creatures, when she was alerted to a strange howling sound coming from deep in the wooded area adjacent to her bedroom window. She looked up, turned off the small lamp on her desk and closed her computer. Peering out over the snow covered lawn towards the pine forest, she listened intently. There it was again, what sounded like a scream followed by a deep echo of a guttural howl. The crystalized snow gleamed under the full moon. Her breath became shallow and she felt terror creeping over her. Should she go out and look for her grandmother, she wondered. She was paralyzed by fear and couldn’t move. There it was again and suddenly from the blackened outline of the night forest she saw the figure of a strange beast emerging at a fast pace, followed by her grandmother. The elderly lady leapt onto the animals back and the two fell into a heap on the snow-covered ground. There was a wild tussle which Gemma watched from the window, frozen in sheer terror. She watched in horror as blood surrounded the two figures on the snowy backdrop. Just as quickly as it had begun, the movement stopped. The old woman leaned down over the corpse of the strange beast, hovering and and overshadowing it with her figure. Hannah watched in horror as the old lady stood there, stooped over with a cane for quite some time. Hiding behind the shutters, she peeked out to see Dorothy slowly turn around and begin to head back towards the mansion. Her face was darkened with what appeared to be blood. Gemma gasped fearing that she was injured. Alarmed, she bolted out from her bedroom down the stairs to the grand entrance. She threw the doors open and yelled out to her grandmother. The old lady, was now using her cane and making her way back towards the entry. She appeared her usual self. The blood that Gemma had seen was gone. Her grandmother even smiled, and slowly opened her mouth to speak. ‘Why are you up so early, dear? I’ve been taking a nice leisurely moonlit stroll. Going back to bed now.” Gemma was horrified seeing the mouth of her grandmother full of blood stained teeth. She looked across the snowy landscape for the animal from the incident or signs of the bloody battle. The snow was pristine, other than a trail of foot prints in the snow from where Dorothy had exited the woods.

Gemma watched in shock as her grandmother made her way with ease back to her room. She listened to the old woman humming and singing under her breath. As she passed by the bedroom, she paused in the doorway and glimpsed Dorothy standing in a long black evening gown. The sheer silk was trimmed with copious ostrich feathers and she had on a pair of mules. Her long bleached blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and she smiled at herself as she applied lipstick over and over in a strange motion, smearing it around her lips, laughing hysterically while baring her stained teeth. Aside from the hideous teeth and lipstick, she appeared far younger than her age. In fact, she looked to be in her 30’s. Gemma gasped to herself as she slowly backed out of the doorway. She gripped the wall to steady herself as she walked in a daze to her own room.

Curious to find out more? Next Chapter coming soon….

This is a work in progress. I am open to constructive criticism, feedback and suggestions! Thank you for reading.