Chapter 2

I went alone up the thruway to the Falls and then up RT 103 to Chester. I saw an old man walking along the street and I asked if he knew where Popple Dungeon Road was. It was the quickest way to get to Windham he informed me. After getting directions, I asked, "Have you ever heard of an old tavern that was on that road owned by someone named Thibadeau back in early times?"

"Sure, nothing of it left now. The state is talking about putting up a marker to identify where it was located. They won't have much luck though. Some little red-haired bitch from the city bought the land one-two years ago. She has more money than God. Snooty little thing--pretty though. She's putting up a cabin all by herself. The design is okay, but she can't drive a nail to save her soul. Course it don't help none that the guys go up there and harass her." He gave me the directions again to be sure I could find the place.

I drove slowly along the road following the old man's directions. I went by the brick farm house and came to a tumbled-down cow barn and an old farm house. Just before I crossed a bridge there was a little side road with a hand-lettered sign that I couldn't read because of the foliage. Turning onto this, I came after a couple of hundred yards to a driveway that said, "Private Property, Keep Out."

I turned up it anyway and a hundred yards further on, there was a shiny Mercedes parked in a pull off. The road from then on was just a trail. I was going to have to back out. I parked in beside the car and started up the trail. It was four-wheel-drive passable, but that was all. I came into a little clearing. I knew this was the land that I had a deed to, for I had passed the pile of stones that marked the boundary.

A few feet in from the trail, the land had been cleared enough for a turn around and a small cabin was started. There were piles of boards and timbers dumped on the ground. I walked over and looked at it. It was green sawed and never stuck up to dry. I knew that with the sun on it and the damp ground it was going to be twisted and useless to try to build with. I walked around the foundation, which was nothing more than some posts sticking out of the ground and boards nailed around them.

The woman wore jeans and a tee, with her feet encased in sneakers. She was sitting down with a 2x4 lying across her knees. It was twisted halfway around like a corkscrew and bent as well. I could see that she had been crying, but you would never have known it except by the tear trails in the dust down her cheeks. The look I received was filled with anger.

"What the hell do you want? This is private property and you're not welcome."

"I can see that. I can also see that you are having problems."

"Yes I am and I don't know why. I can't get one board to meet another. I don't see how carpenters build houses."

"That's because you bought green lumber and it has warped on you."

"But the man at the lumberyard said it was the best material to use. And then the guy that brought the stuff told me I had to unload it myself. I tried but I didn't get very far and had to pay him an extra $50 to just dump it. Why do people treat me this way?"

"Are you mad at me right now?"

"Yes I am. You aren't supposed to be on my property and you look as if you are laughing at me."

"So if I say something, you can't get any madder at me?"

"Probably not."

"Okay, we've settled that you're mad and I can't make it any worse, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you what's wrong. I suspect you came into town showing people you had a lot of money and that you knew what you wanted without asking any advice and worst of all you have a bad attitude. Right now you happen to be the town's entertainment. You are either going to have to give up and move out or one-up them in some way. Either way you are going to have to change your attitude about life."

"What are you, a preacher?"

"Nope, just an ordinary guy."

"I thought ordinary guys in this town stood around and stared at me. You can't believe how they describe my tits or my ass and what they'd like to do to me--or me to do to them for that matter."

"What did you have on when you went to order the lumber?"

"Shorts and a halter. Why?"

"And when you were in the store, did you see any of the other women dressed like that? Or on the street for that matter?"

She sat and thought for a minute trying to remember and then her face turned red. "Oh my God." Then she looked imploringly at me. "I'm not like that at all. And I was scared going into the lumberyard not knowing what to order. I guess I demanded a clerk wait on me and I had to act like I knew what I wanted, didn't I? What am I going to do? I love this place."

"How come you bought it?"

"I was reading some essays published in a dentist office magazine. It was written by some school kids doing a history project. It sounded like a place to own, so I sent someone up from the city to see if I could buy it. He said it was available so I made an offer."

"You've had the title checked and have a warranty deed and everything?"

"I guess so. I paid enough for the place and he walked away with a big commission."

"Everything is probably all right then. What are you going to do after you get your house built?"

"There is a soapstone mine on the far side of the lot. I'm going to mine it out and carve it. Big selling point by mining my own material and carving it and then selling the finished product. Neat, huh?"

"Umm, I guess. Before we go any further with this conversation, would you tell me your name?"

"Sure, but you can't laugh. It's Sarah Bernhardt, you know as in the actress of long ago."

"Have heard of her. Never met one before, though. Sarah Bernhardt, I mean."

"What's your name now that I'm not mad at you anymore."

"Jason Thibadeau."

"You mean like the man that built and ran the tavern here on this property? Wow, it's like history coming alive. Any relation?"

"Just that someone said he might be an ancestor and I was curious to see where the tavern was. I'm from Brattleboro, south of here. I've been living in Boston for a few years and just returned to live with my Mom."

"Not married, then?"

"Nope, close, but got turned down."

"That sounds about like me, only I did the turning down. Found out the guy was after my money."

"So what are you going to do about this mess? You'll never make a dwelling out of what you have here. That question includes the mess about being the town's entertainment."

"Is it that hopeless? I so wanted to do something on my own for a change. My Mom and Dad think I should just sit around until I find someone to marry."

"Tough for you. I don't have that much money and am setting up a business this week, but I'm free to go looking for a wife anytime. Can you do anything, I mean besides alienating a whole town and making a mess of a historical property?" I smiled when I said this.

"Not much, although I worked three years in the university archive department reading and transcribing letters and journals for well-known historical personages. I had the best time doing J. P. Morgan."

"That sounds like it was fun."

"It was and I could do it because I had my own money and it wasn't a paid position. They don't have any other personages right now, but they are going to call me when they do. I could have done a lot of it right here after the cabin was built, but it doesn't look like that is going to happen. Between my stone carving and that, I thought my life was right on track. I give up for the day. I'm going home and cry. I'll walk back with you."

"Where's home?"

"I have a room in Chester with a nice old lady. She is the only one in the whole town that is nice to me."

On the way down to our vehicles I mentioned that I wasn't a carpenter, but I knew a lot about buildings with what I was going to be doing for a living. When she was opening her car door she turned and faced me. "Jason, could you build my house for me? I mean a really nice snug little cabin that is warm and comfortable. Someplace I can work and forget I've got too much money. I've been kidding myself and when you came around the corner, I had just made the decision to give up my dream. Would you?"

"Have you got any plans of what you want to build?"

"Some. I keep all my papers in my room. Would you follow me in and take a look at them. As you may have gathered, money is no object, but I don't want big and overblown. Build it just as if you were building it for yourself. I don't mean physically, but hire the right people to do it."

"I guess I could give you some time." Thinking to myself, you better damned well better believe I would give this pretty little redhead some time.

As we were standing on the steps leading into the house, I was introduced to a woman my mother's age named Etta. She exclaimed, "Your mother wouldn't be Jane Corman Thibadeau, would she?" I confirmed that she was. We spent a few minutes while Etta went down memory lane about them growing up together and the times they had going to dances. Before we went to Sarah's room, I had made a date. A date to come pick up Etta for the Friday night country club dance to surprise my mother. I assured her that Mom would love having her stay over and I would bring her home Saturday morning.

Sarah had more than one room. It was a living room, a bedroom and kitchenette. The bath only had a shower. As Sarah was getting out her papers and sketches she asked, "Do you always pick up strange women for a dancing date that way?"

"First time ever, but it will be fun for both Mom and Etta. Just one more old lady for me to dance with, though."

"Explain that." I gave a rundown about my mother and her friends and how they flirted outrageously with me and even propositioned me.

"Do you ever take them up on it?"

"God no. It would destroy the group friendship they have for each other. If I made a move on one of them, they would be jealous and would feel like the woman scorned. No, we dance and have a good time and everyone is happy."

"What would happen if you brought someone in from outside, for a date, I mean?"

"Nothing really. It would be my business and not theirs. The balance wouldn't shift one iota. All would be the same. All a little bit unhappy and dissatisfied, but not with each other."