Back to Rearwood Hall

We took the last carriage we could find that early Friday and departed, saying our forever goodbye to the university. Elliot lived in Pickford, a town miles away from Bewifield. When we got to a final bus stop at the station he took a different carriage that would take him into the town, while I waited patiently for one that would reach Bewifield.

We hugged at last as he entered and he kept waving his hat till I lost sight of him.

I was drowned in the busting that existed around me in the station, as people came and went. I sat on a wooden bench I found in a corner and began to reminisce. Five years have gone by. I threw a stone at the lizard in the corner. I was returning to Rearwood Hall. I threw another. What would happen next? I threw the next one.

I'm still sticking to my plan, mind you. I would only stay for a while to observe the condition of the house and yes, the steward. I was curious to know this gentleman who had decided amongst all places to work, he chose Rearwood Hall. Hadn't he heard any rumors? I was doubtful and needed to know what kind of a man he was and why my mother never ceased to talk about him. I'm telling you, because of how much she mentioned him in her letters, I sought to Passover any place I saw forth a Williams word.

Well, I had only a few hours to finally get my answers.

"Bewifield!"

A coach came riding into the station. Well, well, time to go.

❁❁❁

We were getting nearer and had arrived at the village when my heart began to pound abruptly in my chest. My hands began to sweat. Ten years ago….

I shook it off, afraid to even recall anything. I refused to look outside the window afraid of getting the familiar dreadful feels I was accustomed to having in the place. The familiar cottage houses, the mansions, muddy roads, the farm routes.

Sunset was about to descend on us and we were getting closer.

"Sir!"

I jolted when the coachman called. It seemed to slip my mind I was the only passenger left. Others had dropped on the road, our house was after all the last house in the village.

He brought down my carriage once I came down.

"Is this where you live sir?"

He asked as he fixed his hat looking towards the house atop the hills. I guessed he got a feeling of the house.

"Yes"

He shook his head and climbed back on the coach. "Safe journey home, sir"

"Thank you"

The words were not even out before he sped past.

Classic.

I watched as the carriage retreated, the lamp hung on it, grew smaller and smaller till it became a firefly.

Rearwood hall. The breeze whispered.

I turned on my heels to face the rocky mansion in the distance. Blackbirds flew around it in the blue and gray sky. The fields looked dead and golden. The green nature had all disappeared. It was once so greenish and lively. I remembered running through it with my father.

Life.

I made the step and along with my trunk, I went up the rocky roads to it.

Wasn't it notable? I left here a twelve-year-old boy and now I was a grown man of two and twenty.

It took minutes and I was in the fields matching toward the house. It looked much eerie (the house) that evening, and the closer I got, the more my hands tightened on the strap of my bag.

Hello again.

I stood looking at it, in front of the Thresholds.

It was in ruins but it was exactly as I had remembered or even much better. Like last year, the flowers planted around the house as Dennis informed me, were dead when he visited. Everything, the trees had gone dry. But now some of it was blooming sprouting little fine flowers here and there.

The steward. My mind whispered.

I looked at the mahogany door. Straw lights were glowing from windows and people were speaking, more than two as I had expected. Mama was the only one in the house and now?

Even the crumbling blocks were fixed as I observed the top of the house.

"How can I help you sir?"

I turned to find a young girl of fourteen dressed in a bonnet, cosset, petticoat, and sabots. Her bright eyes twinkled as she observed me.

"Who are you, sir?" She asked when I couldn't make a reply to the first.

"Eugene, Eugene Houston"

I was in a daze.

"Mr Eugene! Oh, I must tell Madame"

Before I could stop her she had jumped the thresholds and entered the house. I wasn't prepared yet.

Before I knew it the door was made wide open and people came rushing out. Three young ladies, two young men, My aunt(Mrs Thorne), and finally, My mother.

She stood frozen with her black cat looking at me. I didn't know what to say. Slowly she dropped the cat and came rushing into my arms, knocking down my luggage.

"My son! Eugene!"

I snuggled into her embrace. "Mama"

She began to weep. She wept on my shoulders.

"Look at you!" She released me from her arms to observe.

"You've grown!" She cupped my face in her hands, crying and laughing at the same time.

"Cry no more"

I spoke into the hug.

"Look at my son, Mrs Thorne!"

My aunt came down the stairs and took me in her arms again.

"How long it has been" she whispered.

I know, I know.

"Come, come, get his luggage all of you" She dragged me into the house past the servants who held glee and excitement in their eyes.

"Mr Houston!" They bowed.

"Pleased to meet all your acquaintances" I smiled as she dragged me into the dining room to sit.

Not much had changed in the manor, but it was better with the little touches here and there. It seemed everything was improving.

The table was filled with delicacies of all types.

"We had been waiting since morning for you my lovely son"

Mother spoke as she dropped the cat on the ground. It came closer to my feet. "Count" I touched its head and it meowed.

"Where is Earl?"

I asked once we were settled on the table. It was just us three and the servants serving the food. They all had a smile on their faces as they did their job. Everyone seemed to have been waiting for my return. That warmed my heart. It had happened unlike what I expected.

"Here he comes" she motioned as the dog came rushing into the dining room. It was a big old black dog. My father's. He rubbed his face on my legs as I bent to cuddle it. "He's grown old"

They laughed at my remark. Indeed he had. I recalled it as an old dog then and now it had grown even much older.

"Take him away to let him eat"

Mrs Houston urged the maid, the one I had seen first.

She smiled in delight to take the dog away.

"What is your name?"

"Miss Church, sir" her cheeks colored with a smile as she left.

"A shy one" my aunt spoke.

We went on to eat after my mother said the most happy prayers to God. I was hungry to eat but midway, I couldn't help but to ask.

"Where is this steward of yours mother, that had turned the once dead manor lively again?"