Chapter 6: The Passage

Audra definitely had a temper. After showering, shaving, and donning a coat and tie I returned to the dining room where I busied myself setting a second place at the table. As I looked for the various items I noticed that all of the dishes and stemware had been carefully washed and replaced in the hutch. As I worked the rattle of pots and pans in the kitchen gradually subsided. I quietly opened the pocket doors and moved to face my young lioness in her den.

I was surprised to see her slumped in a chair at the kitchen table staring at the wall with tears rolling down her cheeks. I shook my head as I thought to myself that her emotions certainly ran the gamut. When she spotted me she jumped up from the table, wiped at her eyes, trying to hide her tears and asked, "Are you ready to eat?"

Instead of giving her and answer I walked over and took her hand in mine. Almost pulling her along I led her into the dining room where I pointed to the second place setting. "I hate to eat alone. I've done too much of that in my life. I hope you'll eat with me whether the meal is in here or in the kitchen. That is unless you think I have cooties or something."

She fought to hide her smile as she said, "Cooties, I hope not." She laughed and continued, "I'm used to the help eating separately. Every Friday evening Mr. & Mrs. Anderson used to dine formally in the dining room. Sometimes they would have neighbors but most of the time they would eat alone. Even during the week when they ate in the kitchen, we ate at different times."

"Audra, I'm not the Andersons and I'm not going to do things the same way they did. I can understand what they did. You had two separate families here then. They were probably trying to give your family the space you needed to be a family. They also grew up in a different time and lived their lives under different expectations. Both of us are alone and I am hoping that you will dine with me this evening." As I said that I pulled a chair from the table and held it for her so she could sit down.

She reluctantly sat down as she protested saying, " ... but I have to serve the table."

I finished seating her and said, "No talking back. I will serve you this evening. You have worked hard all day cooking this meal for us." Grinning I continued, "At least I think I saw enough for two."

I picked up the plates and salad bowls and went to the kitchen. Returning I had a towel draped across my arm, two salads in my hand. In a poor imitation of an English butler I said, "Dinner is served."

Placing our salads on the table I retreated to the sideboard and half-filled two glasses with the decanted Chianti. I winked at Audra as I placed the glass beside her salad plate. I then sat down across from her grinning at her open-mouthed expression.

She just continued to stare at me as if I was crazy and finally raised her eyebrows.

I asked, "What?"

The tension broken, she started to get up as she laughingly said; "There was salad dressing for the salad in the refrigerator. I'll get it."

Motioning her back down, I hopped up and quickly retraced my steps back to the kitchen. As I returned to the table with the homemade dressing I asked, "I'm not very good at this am I? It takes some thought."

Audra laughingly agreed as she spooned the homemade dressing on her salad. She said, "It's easier if you prepared the meal and know where things are."

The rest of the meal progressed nicely. I refused to allow her to serve at all during the meal. She drank very sparsely of the Chianti during the meal and, although she tried to hide it, I could tell that she wasn't enamored of the rather dry wine. During our conversation it came out that she had never been allowed even a sip of wine by her parents. I offered to bring her iced tea or a soft drink but she declined, saying she was sure it was an acquired taste. The sauce and spaghetti were both delicious and the conversation although subdued was even better as my decision to serve her seemed to have broken the ice.

I deliberately maintained a languid pace serving the meal, complementing her cooking as I served each course. Gradually I could see her begin to relax and come out of her shell. I insisted on helping her clean up afterwards. We were laughing and joking like old friends during the clean up.

After the kitchen was cleaned we retired to the den where I had installed my small home entertainment center. After the friendly banter in the kitchen I was surprised to see her tense up and become silent again as we entered the den. As I motioned her forward she perched rather stiffly on the far end of the rather uncomfortable leather couch. We barely communicated as I paused after each offering on the remote to gage her reaction. Finally I settled on a movie that neither of us was really interested in. During the movie she continued to sit stiffly as if she was in a dentist reception area waiting to have a wisdom tooth removed. The only time she relaxed at all was when Mr. Whiskers jumped up and curled up in her lap.

I tried to break the ice by talking about the changes I wanted to make to the house. She finally agreed that it would be nice to have one room that was decorated for comfort rather than show and we both decided the den would be the perfect place. I say we both decided but it was more as if she sounded out what I wanted and then agreed. Finding out what she truly thought about any one subject was difficult.

My plans were to move the roll top desk to the empty bedroom that I was going to use as an office. Getting her to commit to specifics of the décor was harder than pulling teeth. I felt that she had opinions but was reluctant to share them for fear of offending me. She repeatedly said the room should reflect my taste and not those of a mere servant.

Every time she spoke those words I would heartily disagree. I hoped over a period of time to break through this class barrier she had placed between us. I found despite her protest to the contrary that she was well read, articulate and charming when pressed for her opinion. As the evening progressed I found myself becoming more and more infatuated with her gentle nature and simple beauty. Despite my best effort I was unable to gain any ground in my battle to heal the breach between her and Elise. After a couple of false starts I gave up, feeling that it would be counterproductive to force the issue.

One of the things that we talked about was the original tunnel. I queried her as to whether she had ever explored the tunnel branch that began in the room where the new tunnel joined. She confessed that her curiosity had been bested by her deathly fear of spiders. She told me that she had come close, several times, to cleaning out the spider webs and exploring the passage but had always shied away at the last moment. I found that it was all she could do to use the main tunnel when she had to. As careful as she had been about being discovered, she had used a direct path from the back door of the house to the garage many times to avoid going into the tunnel.

We made plans that night to search that branch of the tunnel sometimes in the next couple of days. I told Audra that my plans for the weekend also included hiring a locksmith to open the roll top desk and checking out the attic. Audra related that the door at the top of the attic stairwell was locked and she thought the key was also kept in the roll top desk.

By the end of the evening Audra seemed more at ease and more readily shared her opinion on some small things. Still as the evening wound to a close she was on one end of the long couch and I was on the other. We both retired to our rooms after the movie. As I entered my bedroom I heard the definite click of a lock being set as soon as she closed her door.

The next day began with me waking bright and early even though I wished I could have slept later. I have never been able to just lie abed once I have awakened. Even when I have absolutely nothing to do my restless disposition won't allow me this comfort. As it was six in the morning I was careful to be quiet so I wouldn't awaken Audra in the bedroom across the hall. I decided to drive to a bakery that I had noticed about six blocks away. When I exited the house it was such a beautiful morning that I changed my mind, deciding to walk instead.

This area of town was built upon a rather large hill. The street's placement on the edge of the hill gave me a gorgeous view of the bay below as I walked to the bakery. There were a few large trees along the way and it was especially pleasant listening to the rustle of the leaves as the early morning sea breeze freshened. The occasional rattle of those leaves in an errant gust was the only interruption of an otherwise tranquil morning as I traversed the first several blocks of my journey. I walked by one home with a sprinkler system just as the sprinklers started but had enough time to rush past before they cycled up to full force. I reached the bakery just as the store was opening for the day.

Inside the bakery I was immersed in a virtual plethora of aromas interlaced with the sweet smell of baker's yeast. One of those underlying scents assaulted my nose and directed my feet to a carafe of coffee freshly brewed on a small table on one corner of the room. I poured a cup into one of the small white Styrofoam cups stacked by the pot. Then I began to make the difficult decision as to what to buy. After almost drooling on the glass front cases I ended up with a box of donuts large enough to make an entire SWAT team salivate. Several of the varieties were still warm and I managed to finish one soft glazed donut in only two bites.

The heady fragrance from the closed box dominated my olfactory senses on the uphill return. Several times I almost talked myself into opening the box in order to renew my strength for the arduous journey. It is a testament to my will power that the box arrived at my door with only one other pastry missing. I set the box on the table in the kitchen and noticed that someone, presumably Audra, had started a pot of coffee. I went looking for her only to meet her descending the stairs followed by Mr. Whiskers.

She smiled at me and said, "There you are. I knocked on your bedroom door. When you didn't answer I looked in and found your bed empty. I thought for a moment that you might have changed your mind and decided to work but then looked out back and saw your truck in the driveway."

As she spoke we were walking together into the kitchen. Before she even saw them the smell of the open box of pastries reached her nose. She gave a small clap of childlike delight as she exclaimed, "You walked to Dennon's. I just love their donuts. I hope you bought a couple of crème filled ones. Those are my absolute favorites."

By that time she had reached the box and again squealed with delight as she saw that there were indeed several crème filled donuts in the box. I laughed as I deduced that I had managed to find one thing that cut through her reserve. We both sat silently enjoying several more of the sugary pastries. I had mine with coffee while Audra washed down hers with sips from a large glass of milk. During the feast with half full mouth she said, "I had planned on cooking you a large breakfast. It's the only meal that I feel confident in cooking."

With an equally stuffed mouth I disagreed. "Last night's supper was perfect. You are an excellent cook. That spaghetti sauce was delicious, best I ever tasted."

She tried to downplay her cooking skills saying, "Anyone can cook spaghetti."

I answered, "My point exactly. You can cook anything you work at. It obviously takes a lot more effort the first time you do anything but as you practice things will get easier and faster."

At that moment Mr. Whiskers brushed up against her legs announcing that it was his turn to be fed. She busied herself feeding the cat and didn't reply. After she returned to the table we finished almost half of the box of donuts before she remarked, "If you do this every Saturday morning I'm going to end up as fat as a pig."

I laughed and said, "I probably won't do this every Saturday morning. Besides, you could stand a little fattening up. You need to fill out a little more."

I thought I had hurt her feelings as she responded, "I know I'm small for my age. I can't do anything about that." Contradicting her earlier statement she said, "I don't seem to be able to put on any weight."

I started to say something about that contradiction and then thought better of it. Shaking my head I replied, "Maybe you should see a doctor about that."

She immediately said, "I'm not sick, I just don't gain weight."

"That's a problem I'm sure most women in this country would love to have. It couldn't hurt for you to make an appointment for a check-up just to be sure nothing is wrong."

She blushed and said, "I don't have money to waste on that."

I said, "I didn't intend on you paying for it. You work for me. I'll provide you with some type of medical insurance. We haven't discussed pay and benefits but you'll have medical and dental along with some type of retirement plan. I need to talk to my accountant about setting that up."

She laughed so loudly that she snorted. I asked her, "What's so funny?"

She said, "The idea of retirement. I'm only 19. From what I've read I don't think anyone in my generation will ever be able to retire."

Feeling us getting more and more sidetracked, I replied, "My accountant will explain it all to you. Everyone needs a retirement plan of some type. If nothing else it's a way to make sure that the government doesn't take all of your paycheck in taxes. We were talking about you needing to see a doctor. I think I'll require an employment physical. I don't want you getting ill on me."

She burst out laughing at that point.

I said, "Stop that! It's not nice to laugh at your boss."

She stifled her laughter enough to say, "Oh, so now you're my boss. For a minute there I thought you were trying to be my mommy. Seriously, I've never been sick a day in my life. Seeing a doctor will be a waste of your money."

Tired of arguing with her, I threw up my hands and left the kitchen. As I calmed down some I thought that maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to act more like her employer and less like her benefactor. It was obvious she felt I should make all of the decisions about the house and stay clear of her personal life.

Still upset from our conversation, I called the locksmith that I normally used when I had problems entering a repo. I knew he wouldn't make me prove that this was my house as many would. It didn't really matter as all of the paperwork from the closing was in a folder on my nightstand. Fred, the locksmith, said he was on a job on the other side of town and would be over within the hour.

After using the phone I thought about one for the house. I hadn't had a need for a land line in my apartment as the cell phone did the same job, but I needed one here in case Audra needed something. Realizing that making a decision on my own would only lead to another argument I went back into the kitchen. Unsurprisingly she didn't seem to care one way or another and we ended up agreeing that a cell phone would work as well or better than a land line.

I was still a bit down when Fred arrived. I wasn't sure if that was from my earlier argument with Audra or from the amount of sugar I had consumed. Fred had no problems opening the desk, and with the desk opened we found the keys to both the attic and the basement along with several other keys, one of which was a spare key to the roll top desk. I put that key on my key ring and paid Fred cash for the service call. I put the other keys in my pocket hoping to discover exactly what they opened during the weekend.

The desk was basically empty except for the keys and an accumulation of junk in one of the drawers. I planned on getting one of my subs to send me a couple of strong backs Monday to move the desk up to the second floor. I was also going to have the young bucks move the furniture out of the servant's quarters to either the basement or the attic in order to prepare those rooms for remodeling. Depending on how I felt I might move the furniture from the den at the same time. I started another list in my wheel book.

After Fred left I headed towards the attic. I took my flashlight but soon found that there were enough light bulbs suspended from the ceiling to enable me to see quite well. The attic space was large, hot and very dusty. The floor was finished with rough pine planks. The entire space was one large room and I could see that there was room for several large bedrooms.

Standing atop the attic stairway I could see where someone had long ago blown rock wool insulation into holes bored through the well-worn older plank flooring. I was puzzled as to why the Andersons locked the space as the one large room was empty with the exception of several rolls of carpet and a couple of boxes that I later found contained an older type of ceiling tiles. The dust had obviously lain on the floor for quite some time as there was a well defined set of footprints leading off into the room. The footprints puzzled me and at first I thought that they must lead to another exit from the attic as they didn't return to the stairwell. Following the footprints led me between the carpet rolls and boxes and then around behind the stairwell stub wall to an exterior wall. There was a maze of footprints at the wall as if the person spent some time at the wall looking for something.