Letters Home, Section 3, April 2000

April, 2000

She was an older lady with bluish-gray hair, slightly plump and short in stature. After checking her hair and adjusting her green jacket in the large mirror hanging on the wall in the dining room, she made her way to the grand entranceway and opened the large front doors.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” she said as she greeted the line that had formed at the door. “Just walk in far enough along the ropes there so that everyone can get in. I’m Mary Alice and I’ll be your guide today. How are you, sir,” she said to an elderly man being pushed in a wheelchair.

“Fine,” he quietly coughed.

Mary Alice patted her hair and, again, adjusted her jacket as she closed the front doors. “Okay, then, that should be everyone on this tour. We try to keep these tours small so that we can answer any questions.” She walked behind the ropes of the grand entranceway so that everyone could see her. “Again, my name is Mary Alice and I am so glad y’all could join us today here at The Oak.” Talking frequently with her hands, she continued. “As you probably know, the State has owned the Oak since January when Christina Allgood, the last of the Allgood descendents passed away. And, just this month we’ve started giving the tours again. Uh, since January, the State has been going through the house and trying to learn as much of the details of The Oak as we could before we reopened for the tours because many parts of the house were off limits to the State prior to the death of Christina Allgood. We have a lot to show you today and, please, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do my best to answer them. They like us to remind everyone that there is no food or drink allowed inside The Oak and we ask that you remain on the red carpet there by the rope so that we can continue to preserve and protect this house for another century.”

The line was filled with twenty or so people, all ages, couples, and families having paid their twenty dollars to learn more about The Oak, all of them oohing and aahing at the room and looking periodically to Mary Alice.

“During the last four months, the State did find quite a few artifacts in the house that were put away in the attic and in other rooms that we have displayed and you will be seeing today on the tour. Some of them include two wedding dresses, some letters written by the first lady of the house, Abigail Allgood, and others by her daughter, Christina. The letters give a bit of insight to the workings of The Oak and the lives of the people who lived here and, of course, if you’d like to read them yourselves, some of the original letters are on display in the ticket office and all of the letters have been processed by the State into a memoir which is available for purchase in the gift shop beside the main office in the barn where you bought your tickets.” Mary Alice exhaled quickly and loudly. “Well, now that we’ve got all that out of the way, let’s get started. The guided tour will last approximately one hour and then you have the rest of the day to explore the grounds and, hopefully, you’ll stop and see some of the demonstrations we have here at the Oak about how work in the early part of the century was done.”

“Where are the restrooms,” a woman in line asked.

“There are no public facilities in the house, but there are in the main office in the barn and then in other locations across the property. If you fold out the brochure, the back of the brochure is a map of the property and the restrooms are marked on there.” Mary Alice leaned in and quieted her voice. “Uh, do you need to go now, hon?”

“No, just in case,” the woman responded.

“Let’s take a moment to look at these massive front doors that you just came through. They are made entirely of solid oak from trees that were here on the property. The State actually owned this property in the eighteen-hundreds but wasn’t using it for anything. The State really didn’t see the property as profitable and the railroad did not wish to make use of it. So, after a while, they just wanted to get rid of it, just dump it basically. And, they sold this land at a steal, even in those days. And, of course, it was purchased by one Kevin Allgood.

“Now, Kevin Allgood,” Mary Alice continued, “served in the United States Army from when he was only sixteen years old until his death in 1917, but he was quite an astute business man and farmer. He had grown up on a farm, a rather poor family they were though his father had made a substantial fortune in the railroad industry when Kevin was in his teens. Kevin Allgood later married Abigail Smith, the daughter of great wealth, in 1899 in this very room. Mr. Allgood built this house for Abigail as a wedding present and they moved in on the very day they were married. Then, on the first day of 1900, their first anniversary, twin daughters were born, Katrina and Christina. Any questions so far?”

Everyone shook their heads, still looking about the room, usually focusing on the grand staircase.

“As I mentioned, Mr. Allgood died in 1917. He died in battle in World War One, followed a few years later by his wife, Abigail, in 1920. She died of pneumonia from what we can tell. Now, shortly before Mr. Allgood’s death, Katrina had married and moved off the property to live with her husband on the coast. Christina Allgood, however, continued to live here at The Oak on this property until her recent death. She actually died in one of the upstairs bedrooms which you will be seeing on the tour today. She never married, but she did tend to the running of the farm, the house, and the property in general.

“Christina Allgood is one of our primary points of focus on this tour since her life is still somewhat a mystery even though she lived here.” Mary Alice continued to talk with her hands, gesturing to emphasize certain points. “For years, there have been rumors about the area of Christina having gone mad, of her fortune being lost, even of having left two different men at the altar because she did not want to share her money. However, in letters written by Christina herself, along with research that the State has done here on the property, we’ve discovered that Christina Allgood was quite complex, but, uh, many of the rumors about her simply are not true.” She laughed, “My favorite rumor is that Christina buried her money about the property because she did not trust the banking system. However, we have found proof that she did have quite a sizable fortune and it was in the bank and, uh, that money was willed by Christina to different charitable organizations. During excavations about the property by our archeological team, we’ve hoped that they might find some truth to the rumor, but, uh, they’ve not yet found any money lying around anywhere.”

“She trusted my bank,” the man in the wheelchair said, his voice too quiet to be heard.

“In talking with the staff that has served here at The Oak for many years, many of them second, third, and even fourth generation Oak employees, we’ve gathered that Christina Allgood was not the most pleasant person but that she did take great care to take care of the Oak and the people who worked here. In giving tours through the house and across the property while Ms. Christina was still alive, I did have the opportunity on several occasions to speak with her, but I usually found her agreeable.

“This room that we’re in is called the grand entranceway, and many famous politicians, artists, and other celebrities have graced this room with their presence during dinners and balls arranged by the Allgood family. Many of those gatherings were to raise money for local charities although many of them were just for fun and socializing. The grand staircase that you see here to your right is one of the most prominent features of the house. Again, made entirely of oak from the trees on this property, the staircase was featured in the only family portrait that we have of the Allgoods. You’ll be seeing that when we visit the sitting room.”

“Are all the rooms on display,” a man asked.

“Most of the rooms but not all of the rooms. There are two and one half floors at The Oak and over twenty rooms. Although the house is tremendous in size, and I’ll have the check that square footage for you, it’s mostly because the rooms are large and not because there are so many rooms. Mr. Allgood built a mansion of a house, but there is also a sense of common sense and restraint. It’s sort of like he built it to express his love for his new wife and offer her something similar to the life that she had known at her childhood home but, at the same time, he didn’t really build the house to show off his money. However, not all of the rooms are viewed. The attic, for one, is simply a room where it is impossible to get a tour full of people. Other rooms are still under examination by the State so that we can determine the history of the room and the best way to present it to the public.

“Now, let’s talk about some of the artwork that you see on these walls. Kevin and Abigail, in their spare time, loved to travel…”

Lisa entered the grand entranceway, leaning her back against the wall and listening to the tour guide as she pulled her short, blond hair behind her ears and straightening her usual attire of a white cotton tee over jeans. Though younger and thinner and not much taller than Mary Alice, the two ladies shared a respect of the Oak and for history.

“Oh, well, the State must be making a killing at twenty bucks a head,” Henry quietly said as he popped into the room eating an apple, looking about his khaki, tailored business suit for any signs of apple.

Lisa frowned, her arms crossed. “They’re running tours through every half hour. One barely gets out of the room before another begins. All of it the same. They’ve written a script and they all follow it to the letter. I could probably recite it myself if I tried.”

“Well, I am almost moved in to my new office up on the second floor,” Henry gloated before biting into the apple with a smile.

“You mean Mr. Allgood’s office?”

“He’s dead. It’s not like he’s gonna need it anymore.” He took another bite of the apple. “It took some doing to get the State to block off that room from the tour so that I could have it.”

“What exactly did you have to do,” Lisa said curiously, knowing that the State would have wanted that room especially for the tour.

“Let’s just say I called in a few favors and patted a few egos. What does it matter? I got what I wanted. Having an office here at the Oak will help me conduct the legal business of this old house.”

Lisa returned to the kitchen, disgusted and frustrated, and Mary Alice continued the tour into the dining room as Henry went upstairs to his new office.

“Here, ladies and gentlemen,” Mary Alice continued, “we have the formal dining room. According to records, this is where the Allgood family would take all of their meals when they were home. However, Kevin and Abigail did like to travel when they could, and usually they would leave the children here at home in the care of the staff. This antique mirror that you see hanging on the wall is one of the pieces that the couple bought while in France. It is thought that they liked the mirror not only because of its vastness in size, but also because of the oak border and the cherubs chiseled into the wood that you see on each corner. When you came in today, you probably noticed the angels on the outside of the house and you’ll see many more inside. The family was very fond of their angels, yes, indeed. Over here along the other wall,” Mary Alice pointed to the china cabinet as she looked about to make certain that everyone was on the proper side of the ropes, “is a cabinet original to the house. The china that you see inside was probably the set that was pulled out for special occasions. The flower print in the edges of the dishes, which I’m not sure if you can see or not with the glare of the sun, was actually hand-painted in France and is thought to have been purchased at the same time as the mirror. This beautiful oak dining table was hand-made by Mr. Allgood himself, of course, again, out of trees that were already on the property, as an additional wedding gift to Abigail.”

“The silverware,” a lady on the tour began, “on the table, is it real?”

“It is, indeed, made of real silver. And, I do not mean silver plated,” Mary Alice laughed. “Testing was done on relics throughout the house to determine what exactly we had here. And, the silverware turned out to actually be solid silver. Here in the display case by the entrance to the kitchen, you’ll see a solid gold set of utensils as well. By the standards of the early nineteen hundreds as well as by our own standards now, the Allgood family were quite wealthy.”

Mary Alice led the tour group into the kitchen, beginning to explain about the types of foods that were eaten in the early part of the century.

“Thomas,” a voice whispered

“Huh?” The man in the wheelchair turned his head. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything, Grandpa,” the young man pushing the wheelchair replied.

“Oh, I thought I heard something,” he mumbled in return, thinking he saw the edge of a black dress quickly vanishing from the corner of the mirror. “I must be imagining things,” he thought.


Hearing the tour headed for the kitchen and not in the mood for questions, Lisa went for a walk through the gardens, strolling along bricked paths of roses and tulips and daisies punctuated with stone cherubs and stone lions and large, colorful ceramic vases.

“It certainly is a beautiful garden, Mr. Gates,” Lisa said as she neared the middle-aged man watering a section of the garden.

“Well, thank you, Ms. Lisa. I think this weather might hold out this year and bless us with some good gardens and some good crops,” he said as he patted his heavy stomach and smiled.

“I hope so.”

Noticing the disheartened expression upon her face, Mr. Gates, trying not to interfere, returned his eyes to the watering hose as he asked, “You okay, Ms. Lisa?”

“Yes, thank you, just still getting used to these tours going through the house. I guess I should be thankful that Christina made certain that everyone who worked here would continue working here. But, those tours are already getting the best of me.”

“How do you work around them?”

“Well, I still do the same household tasks I’ve always done. Now, I just do them around the tours and the State brings in their own people to do certain things like cleaning the silver. I’ve cleaned that silver for years and now you’d think the State thinks I’m going to steal it or something.”

Mr. Gates laughed but spoke calmly. “Things are different out here too. Ms. Christina was always so careful around the plants. And, some of the people who come through here now are just as respectful as she was and some, well, some aren’t.”

“Hum,” Lisa began, “that was the one thing Christina always wanted to be certain of, that the Oak would be taken care of and respected as well after her death as when she was alive. She’d have a fit if she knew…,” and Lisa stopped, uncertain if she should finish the sentence.

But, Mr. Gates knew. Clearing his throat, he tried to say what Lisa could not. “I hear that Henry Stevenson has done taken up residence in the house.”

“Not residence, exactly, but he may as well have. He’s moved his office into Mr. Allgood’s old office. He’s here most of the time, telling the staff what to do. He’s pretty much already gotten on everyone’s nerves.”

“How is it that he can have his office in the house at all, but especially in that room. It seems like the State would want a room so important to the history of the house to be viewed by the public. So much has happened in that room, so many deals were made. Why, Christina basically spent most of the last few years of her life in that room.”

“I don’t know,” Lisa said as she turned to make her way back to the house. “Somebody must know something that somebody did.”


Mary Alice had led the tour up to the second floor of The Oak, reminding them to walk on the red carpet stretched out down the middle of the large hallway. “When this house was built in 1899, it had fully working indoor plumbing, including flush toilets, but I’ll get to that in a minute, and it had electricity! Can you imagine being a visitor to this house in those days when you were used to wooden outhouses? Also, at the time of the wedding of Abigail and Kevin, Kevin Allgood owned an early version of the automobile. That should give you some idea of the great wealth that the Allgood family had at that time.

“But, let’s talk for a minute about electricity because I think that is so interesting,” Mary Alice glowed as she patted her hands together in front of herself with enthusiasm. “At the time the house was built, it had electric lights and electrically powered ceiling fans, but used a coal-burning stove until the nineteen thirties when an electrical stove was installed beside the coal-burning stove. And, of course, you saw them both, side by side, down in the kitchen. But, with all of that technology that was here, in each room there is a fireplace that was used for warming the room as well as for heating the water for washing the hands or bathing or whatever they may have wished to have had warm water for. Now, if you’re wondering why they didn’t have one of the early versions of the water heater, perhaps one working on coils or such, those early heaters were rather difficult to control the temperature of the water and the Allgoods probably thought it was just easier to put a kettle of water over the fire.

“Now even though they had electricity, central heat and air was not added until the middle part of the century. Even then, the air conditioning unit was only used for a month or two of each calendar year.” She motioned her hands upwards towards the ceiling. “If you haven’t already noticed the tops of the walls, you might want to glance up there now. You’ll remember from the first level that there are lots of windows, large windows on the outside wall of the house. But, on the inside walls of the house, there are also these smaller windows that can be opened like shutters. Now, you’ll notice that these smaller windows exist on both walls bordering the hallway. That was to help light come through the house and to allow air to flow very well through here. Right now, it’s nearly mid-day. Uh, it’s very comfortable up here, but the central air is not on. The house is being cooled by the wonderful flow of air and the ceiling fans. And, even into very recent years, the air conditioning unit would not be needed to cool the house until late July or August when the temperature is just too hot outside for the breeze and fans to do the trick. It was only in the kitchen, in those early days, when the stove was on that it would seem very hot and uncomfortable during the summer.

“So, uh, even though they had electrical lights, we doubt that they were used very much because of the number of candle bases and gas lamps that were found in the house as well as because these windows allowed light, during the day, to brighten the house very well without ceiling lights.”

“Excuse me,” Henry said as he passed by the slowly walking tour, entering his new office and closing the door behind him.

Mary Alice continued the tour, showing the bedrooms to the visitors, pointing out the combs and brushes, identical pairs sitting side by side on the dresser that had belonged to the girls when they were young, pointing out the diaries of two teens positioned carefully between the beds, making note of the wedding photograph of Kevin and Abigail placed strategically on the bedside table so that the group behind the ropes could see it, and mentioning the hand-sewn blankets and quilts adorning the beds and hanging over oak racks as she continued to tell the history of the house and of the family.

Mary Alice approached the closed office door and cleared her throat. “This room is actually the original office of Kevin Allgood.” Again, clearing her throat, her hands becoming nervous about her body. “This room is not actually on the viewing tour, but I can tell you a little bit about it. Uh, according to family records, again, it was originally the office of Mr. Allgood and served of something of a library for the family. The family enjoyed reading and many books, some classics and some that most people today have never heard of, are still housed upon bookshelves in the room. Upon Mr. Allgood’s death, the room continued as an office as Abigail and Christina worked together to continue running the farm, the house. And, then, in nineteen-twenty, when Ms. Abigail died, it became the office of Christina as she took over the administration of the Oak. It was in this very office where Christina Allgood wrote the collection of letters spanning the last ten years of her life.

“Over the years, the collection of books continued, many of them first editions or first printings. I’m hoping that, someday, we’ll be able to share them with all of you because they are priceless treasures indeed.

“Uh,” Mary Alice tried to refocus her attention as she continued to explain about the room while standing outside of it, in the hall beside a shut door, “it was in this office where the papers were signed when Christina Allgood agreed to will The Oak to the State, under certain conditions, of course. It was also in this office, according to family diaries, where Robert Mitchell asked Mr. Allgood for permission to marry Katrina Allgood. Some of the most interesting notes about this office, though, are the meetings that took place in this office that had nothing to do with The Oak. Mr. Allgood, it seems, was quite a gentleman and, during his lifetime, when necessary, offered The Oak as a location for business and political meetings. The Oak sort of acted as neutral territory. So, over the years, agreements have been made here in this office about laws to be passed and changes to be made in the community. Uh, we’ll talk more about that as we continue the tour,” Mary Alice said, hearing another tour coming up behind her and needing to move on to the next stop.

“We’ve done as much as we could to maintain The Oak as it was, but of course, we have had to make some changes to meet certain regulations about having a place open for business. For instance,” she said as she opened the elevator doors for the man in the wheelchair, “this elevator was added, but the State took great care to have it blend in with the oak woodwork as much as possible. We’ll see you downstairs in just a minute, sir.”

The tour stepped outside through a side door and made their way to the gravesite of Kevin and Abigail, Mary Alice noting how the State added the stones telling of their life at The Oak. Then, walking past the gardens, she reminded the group to be certain to view the beautiful roses growing there, waving to Mr. Gates as she passed.

“There are wonderful places to picnic if you’d like to get something from the snack bar while you’re here today and eat at one of the tables beneath these beautiful oak trees. The Allgood family made certain to plant trees every year and the State intends on maintaining that practice. Some of the trees on the property are thought to be a couple of hundred years old, at least. But…” she continued.

“Thomas,” a voice whispered again.

“Huh,” the man in the wheelchair asked his grandson as they followed the rest of the tour. “Did you say something?”

“No, sir, not a word,” his grandson whispered.

The old man shook his head in confusion, certain that he had someone whisper to him. Feeling the cool spring breeze and enjoying the beauty of the property, he felt his gaze drawn to the edge of the wooden area. Upon a large tree root lying atop the ground sat a rabbit with snow white fur and crystal blue eyes.

“Look,” he whispered to his grandson and motioned towards the trees.

“I don’t see anything, Grandpa. There’s nothing there.”

And, looking again, the old man saw nothing there but tree roots intertwined, old and strong.

“This is the last stop on our tour,” Mary Alice said as she stood beside the chain. “This is where the two sisters, Christina and Katrina Allgood, are buried, their final resting place. We keep roses growing around the boundary of the gravesite because it is said to be the favorite flower of both ladies. And, out of respect, we also keep fresh roses from the gardens in the vases here about the graves.” Mary Alice exhaled slowly, speaking a bit more quietly. “We like to think that these concrete lions sitting here on pillars on each side of the entranceway to the gravesites are guarding the girls somehow. Um, and, of course, the angel sculpture standing between the two graves, well, we like to think that she looks over them and blesses them.

“On every tour we’ve had, of course the tours only restarted this month since Ms. Allgood’s death, I’ve been asked if the house or the property is haunted. Now, I’ve not experienced anything myself and I’ve not heard any stories of anyone meeting up with any ghosts. But, after what I’ve learned about the Allgood family, I think if it’s possible for them to return to their beloved home, they would. And, they would probably bless it with hope and kindness.” She paused. “Well, that’s the end of the official tour. Of course, if you have any questions, I’ll be happy to hang around and answer them for you. Remember that you are free to roam the grounds for the rest of the day. We have wonderful demonstrations going on at all times across the property, some of them, like the looms, you can even try your hand at if you’d like. Don’t forget that we have the on-site restaurant with all sorts of home-made delicacies that is opened for your convenience. Plus, we have the gift shop, the museum, and entry to the museum was purchased with your ticket, and we have all of this wonderful countryside to enjoy. So, make yourselves at home.”


Henry watched the people coming and going, counting dollars in his mind as he looked through the office window. Tapping his fingers on the oak panes, losing track when counting heads, he decided that there must be a couple of hundred people on the property at any given time of day, each of them buying tickets to enter The Oak, buying meals at the restaurant, spending money on souvenirs and keepsakes. And, a steady stream of tourists came through the gates throughout the day, a total revenue that continued increasing until the gates were shut at the end of the day. Henry swallowed the last of his coffee, drinking from one of the porcelain cups that he had removed from the china cabinet in the dining room, thinking of the money the Oak was making each day and how much of it was going to the State.

Henry sat down in the cushioned leather chair and leaned back, placing his feet upon the desk while looking out over the property and doing math in his head. “Bring me some coffee up here,” he told Lisa after picking up the phone and calling down to the kitchen.

Henry looked out at the birdhouse on a tall pole near the window, hearing the birds chirp and watching them stand upon their little ledge.

It only took a few minutes for Lisa to make her way upstairs, entering the room as she always had with Christina but receiving a stern glare from Henry. “Knock before you enter. I have important business going on in this room.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, looking at his feet on the desk. “Looks real important.” Lisa poured the coffee, noticing the cup from the cabinet, swallowing her anger, but saying nothing.

“What’s the deal with that birdhouse?”

Lisa looked out at the birdhouse and smiled, watching the birds hop from ledge to ledge or fly about the house, a yellow butterfly fluttering about with them as if they were playing musical chairs high up in the air, happy and enjoying themselves. “What about it? It’s a birdhouse.”

“I want it gone. As soon as possible. No later than today.”

“What,” Lisa exclaimed. “That birdhouse has been here as long as I remember. Some of those birds only know that house as their home. If it’s moved, they may never be able to find it again.”

“I want it gone. I want those disgusting little creatures far away from my window.”
He removed his feet from the desk. “And, I want these windows shut and the central air turned on as well. It’s ridiculous not to the use the air conditioner.”

Lisa stuttered, but then left the room as quickly as she could.

A small black bird flew from her house high above the ground, sitting upon the window sill by the old oak desk.

“What do you want, you little menace?” Henry paused. “Go! Scat,” he waved his hand towards the bird, but the bird remained still, unmoving in its conviction. “Now,” Henry said, swiping his hand against his coffee cup as he swung at the bird. “Ouch,” Henry said as he stood, the coffee stinging his skin through his tailored clothing but leaving him unharmed. Henry looked toward the window sill only to see the bird look directly at him, chirping as if saying a short sentence before returning to the birdhouse. “Damn, bird. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you did that on purpose,” he said, patting at the stains with tissues from the desk.

Lisa passed by another tour in the dining room as she slammed the door entering the kitchen, going to the sink, and supporting the weight of her body against the side of the sink as she stared out the window into the gardens. Knowing that the tour would be in the kitchen soon, she went to the front porch and sat in one of the rocking chairs.

“Lisa,” a voice quietly asked, “how are you?”

Lisa turned to see the man in the wheelchair being pushed towards her, a light plaid throw over his legs. “Fine, sir, and how are you?”

“Oh, I’m well. I just took the tour today to see what they’re saying about the place.”

“What did you think?”

“Some things they got right on the mark. Others, well, I guess they’re trying to make a buck.” Thomas nodded his head in gentle disapproval.

Lisa studied the property and the people walking about. “The staff here were always made to feel like this was their home. But, I have a feeling that, before too long, The Oak won’t be recognizable to most of us.”

“Why? What does the State have planned?”

“I..” and Lisa stopped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I guess I’m just feeling a little sentimental today.
”
Thomas patted her arm. “It’s okay. I understand. But, everything changes over time.”

“Can I get you something to drink, sir?”

“Oh, no, we had lunch at the restaurant they built down by the lake. Have you been down there, dear? One side is made completely of glass so that you can see the lake while you eat. It’s very pretty. Did Christina know that the State planned to build that?”

“No, sir, but there’s a lot Christina didn’t know about the changes that would be made when she wasn’t here to stop them.” Lisa exhaled. “Do you see that old birdhouse, sir,” Lisa pointed towards the birdhouse outside the office window. “I have a feeling that that birdhouse and several others near the house won’t be here much longer and I don’t know what to do to prevent it.”

“Oh, dear,” Thomas said. “Some of those bird houses are as old as the Oak itself. Christina told me that she and Katrina and a farm hand named, uh, what was it, oh, yes, Leroy, that was his name, made that particular birdhouse, the one there by the window where she sat so much of the time in her final years. When I would visit, we would sit and watch the birds and when she would visit me, well, we’d sit and watch different birds,” he laughed.

“The two of you became friends later on?”

“Yes, you could say we became friends. Christina and I didn’t always get along. Oh, over the decades, we’d have periods where it didn’t seem I could do anything right with her accounts and other times when she was my biggest supporter. But, over the last few years, we seemed to be able to put our differences aside and become friends. Oh, she could still have a temper at times, but it was tempered with patience and respect. It was kind of like something inside of her was healing. I can’t say that I knew her very well, but I know that she loved the birds and The Oak and this property.”

“Did you get the book,” Lisa asked, knowing that it was always mentioned on the tours and thinking he would realize what she meant.

“I did,” he whispered as if he wasn’t certain he wanted anyone to know. “I must admit, I am curious about what those letters say. Have you read them, Lisa?”

“No, but I’m trying to work my way up to it. It seems strange reading letters that I watched her write so many times, especially since she’s gone now. Hopefully, soon, maybe.”

Thomas looked up toward the birdhouse and then back to Lisa, saying only a few words before being wheeled away towards the garden. “Speak up if you feel you should, Lisa, and everything will be okay. Yes,” he said as he patted her arm, “everything will be okay.”

Lisa, hearing the tour having left the kitchen, returned, making a cup of coffee and slipping a cinnamon stick into the heavy mug. Leaning against the sink, she saw Thomas being pushed through the garden, pointing out to his grandson the roses that were in bloom and, through the open window, hearing Thomas explain how much Christina had loved roses and what was needed to help the roses grow.

“Oh, my,” Mary Alice said, patting her hair as she entered the kitchen. “It is busy today, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What is it dear,” Mary Alice asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the prep table, stirring a lump of sugar into the black, steaming liquid.

“You seem so distant these days.”

“Guess it’s just the changes around here.”

“Well, things are different from when we were only giving four or five tours a week. Now we give at least twice that many in a single day, every day.” Mary Alice continued to stir the coffee as if, somehow, it would make everything better.

“It used to seem like home, Mary Alice, back when Christina was alive. Back then, the tours were almost fun activities that we all looked forward to each week, times when we could show off our knowledge of the history of the house or early woodworking or cooking in the nineteen hundreds. You know. But, it still felt like home.” Lisa sat down across from Mary Alice. “Now, it doesn’t feel like home. It feels like we’re living in a zoo or something.”

“Have you noticed that the people taking the tours have changed? When I gave the earlier tours, back when Christina was alive, the people seemed truly interested in the history. Now, they seem more focused on the money that has passed through this house. You know, we don’t even mention the living quarters of all of you that live here on the property. In fact, we don’t even include those rooms in the total number of rooms in the house like we used to, and we don’t even mention the worker’s cabins that sit on the other side of the fields anymore. It’s like the history of the house has changed in four months.”

Lisa continued to stare into her coffee, playing with the cinnamon stick. “This used to be a happy place. Oh, it wasn’t perfect or anything. But, the workers were happy here. The Oak felt like our home just as much as Christina’s home. Now, it feels like we’re living inside a business.”

“Uh, speaking of changes in history, dear, uh, how is it that Henry moved in to Mr. Allgood’s old office? That’s an important room in this house.”

Lisa finally looked up from her coffee. “I don’t know. And, I have no idea who to talk with to try and change it. He’s basically come in and taken over as much as he can. I tell you, Mary Alice, I worry about the future of The Oak.”

“So do I.” Mary Alice leaned in and whispered, though there was no one else in the kitchen. “There’s something different about this house since Christina died, but I can’t quite figure out what it is. I’m not as comfortable coming here to give tours as I used to be.”

Lisa patted Mary Alice’s arm just above where she held on to the coffee cup, whispering as well. “I know. I can’t explain it either. I know this house like the back of my hand. I was raised here. I know every nook and cranny. Yet, I’ve found myself uncomfortable going down to the laundry room alone lately. I, I can’t explain it. I just don’t know.”

Henry burst through the door. “Lisa, can you get this stain out of these pants?”
Henry stood there before the women, his khaki pants stained with coffee from the waist down the leg, making it look as though he had wet his pants, and the women could do nothing but laugh. “Very funny,” Henry said. “Now, what about the stain?”

“Do you have a spare pair?”

“I’ve sent a worker to the car to get them. Now, what about the stain?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lisa chuckled.

Lisa’s eyes followed Henry as he left the kitchen, leaving the door swinging behind him from the force. Then, Lisa’s eyes caught sight of a shadow on the wall that followed Henry, yet seemed to appear too late to be Henry’s shadow. Quickly, the shadow faded, leaving Lisa wondering what she had seen. Had it been a corner of a black dress, the corner of a black overcoat? “Oh, well,” she thought to herself, the light on the walls of this house could always play tricks with the imagination.

“Well,” Mary Alice exhaled with a chuckle, “I’ve got to get back to the tours.” Turning to Lisa before she left the kitchen, Mary Alice continued, “It’ll be okay, Lisa. Just remember to always speak out when you feel it’s necessary.”

“How odd,” Lisa thought, alone in the kitchen, “that two people on the same day should tell me such a thing.”


Hours later, Mary Alice, alone on her side of the ropes, conducted another tour.
“This room,” Mary Alice said with her animated hands often patting her hair. “is the sitting room. This is the location where the Allgood family last saw and spoke with Mr. Kevin Allgood alive. From this room, he left for World War One and, of course, he did not return from that war. By the end of that year, Mr. Allgood was killed while serving his country and his body was returned to the Oak and, of course, is buried at the base of the mountain alongside his wife, Abigail. The sitting room was used as something of a living room. The family would gather together here, uh, invited guests may have joined the family in the sitting room for conversation, or the girls may have entertained suitors here, under the watchful eye, of course, of one of the staff or one of their parents. Now, up on the walls you will see several small, rather rough sketches of the Oak. Those are the original sketches drawn by Kevin and Abigail as they planned this house. Then, the larger sketch beside them was actually completed by a professional artist that the Allgood family commissioned.

“Now, some of the pieces that you’ve seen today are in the same location where they’ve sat for nearly a century or more. And, uh, then, some of them, the State has repositioned from other rooms so that the public can see them. This woven beige rug that you see between the sitting sofas was originally in Mr. Allgood’s office, but the State did bring it down here to the sitting room so that we could share it with all of you. Uh, this rug is around eighty years old and was purchased by Mr. Allgood while in Egypt the year before his death. Now, up in the Allgood bedroom, you’ll see some of Abigail’s jewelry on display. In this room, you’ll see many of Mr. Allgood’s hunting trophies on display. There, on the shelf, you’ll see several golden cups won by Mr. Allgood during hunting tournaments, most of those would be fox hunts, and, on the walls are mounted, uh, heads of animals that Mr. Allgood hunted and killed over the years that he spent here at The Oak. What appears to be leather on the sitting sofas is actually genuine leather, possibly from some of the cattle that have been raised here over the years, but we can’t be sure. The sitting sofas do date back to the early part of the nineteen hundreds, although we’ve not been able to actually date them specifically.”

“Are there ghosts in the house,” a woman on the tour asked.

Mary Alice laughed. “No, we’ve not had any accounts of ghosts yet, but who knows what the future may hold.”

“What about when the Allgoods were alive? Did they see any?”

“I don’t recall any actual accounts of ghost sightings by the Allgood family. Now, in the letters that the family wrote over years, they do speak about The Oak as if it’s alive, but I don’t recall any legitimate ghost sightings. Uh, in her last few years, Christina would write that she would think she saw one of her deceased family members reappear but it would just be her imagination working overtime. It seems like most houses that are haunted have either had a rather large number of inhabitants, which The Oak did not, or it was on some type of battleground, and the State is still studying what, if any, military battles may have taken place on the property before it was purchased by Mr. Allgood or, even, perhaps, if there were any Native Americans living in the area before the property was purchased. Uh, so far, in our excavations of the land, we’ve not found many clues. It’s almost as if this land was pure of any inhabitants except maybe a few animals prior to the Allgood family and, then, the only souls on the property were the ones who came through the gates.”

Henry, now in a pair of black pants, had walked in during the discussions, leaning against the wall for a brief period, gnawing on a couple sticks of gum, and listening to the tour.

“Next we’ll actually be seeing the water rooms that are inside the house. Ma’am, if you could just lead us into that next room there. Thank you.”

Henry grabbed Mary Alice’s arm as she headed up the rear of the tour, “Is that real gold in those trophies?”

“Yes. Let go of my arm.”

“I want them back upstairs in my office when the tours for today are over.” And, he swung her arm out of his grip. “And, do something with your hair,” he barked before passing the tour to make his way back to the office.

“What is wrong with him,” she thought, noticing something black reflected on the edge of her glasses, but quickly vanishing. She exhaled. “It’s nothing. I just let him get to me.” And, she returned to the tour.

Weeks passed and the battles continued. The bird house remained, but the trophies were removed from the tour and the windows were closed, the breeze no longer carrying the scent of wildflowers throughout The Oak, the energy of the wind no longer felt and the singing of the birds no longer heard within the house. And, the walls began to darken, no longer inviting and embracing the light as they had in years gone by, part of its family being kept from The Oak like an enemy of hope.




This work is completely fictional. Any resemblance to situations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.