Inside, the house smelled musty. I had entered through the side porch. It was cool and dark. The shades were down and I pulled them up to let in the natural light of the day. I walked through the house, opening the shades and pulling back drapes as I went. It was dusty and I sneezed. There were rooms after rooms and all of them had that abandoned smell. You can’t smell it when you live in it because it is the smell of silence. It is the smell of a lack of movement of oxygen and carbon dioxide. The smell of stillness. The only activity being a few bluebottles or green flies in the windows but most of them had died by the looks of it. You can only smell that smell when you walk into a room which has not seen life for awhile. You go on vacation and stay away a few nights and when you come back your house has begun to have that smell. Once you are in it again you disturb every corner with your movements and that smell goes away. I walked slowly around each room, careful not to disturb the dust which was quite thick. I was quite sure that there was no more dust falling and that all that was in the air was now on every surface. I imagined what each room was for and who had moved around in it. What they may have done and who they were. This room was obviously a reading room as books lined the shelves and several books lay on tables and even some piled on the floor as though it were too much effort to rise and put it back on the shelf. There was one book still open and laid on the seat of the Queen Anne chair. Perhaps that was Grandma’s chair. There was no television in any of the rooms on the lower floor. I was surprised. I thought that perhaps there would be a couple of Lazy-boy chairs together in one of the rooms and a television. I expected to find a couple of chairs set together with piles of things gathered up around and pills and hospital type stuff gathered around. But I kept walking through the house and I didn’t find anything like that. There was a large room surrounded by windows on the south side of the house. It had several planters with what looked like the remains of plants. The conservatory. I remembered it. It was obvious that no one had been in here for a long time. There was a large comfortable chair in the room. I remember sitting on Grandpas knee in this room while he told tales of places far away and jungles teaming with life and how he had gone to live with a tribe in the jungle and learn their ways and tell them about a God who is over all gods, who loves them and cares. He told of plants and animals. I remembered how captivating his stories were and how I had imagined being in a jungle when I was in that room. It was a beautiful room, round like a semi-circle with a door at each end of the long wall. Grandpa’s chair in the middle. I walked on through the conservatory and ended up in the kitchen. It was a large kitchen and there were several things out on the counters as though it had been abandoned quickly. There was a table in the middle of the room and an armchair in one corner. I couldn’t turn the lights on or use the appliances since there had been no electric service to the house for quite some time. I dared not open the fridge but knew I would have to do that eventually. For now I didn’t want to disturb anything. I had planned to get what I came for and spend the night at a nearby hotel, but now I found myself changing my mind. This feeling of being at home was so strong. I felt comfortable here even though it was all so strange. I wanted to see everything and touch everything and explore again. The stairs wound around a beautiful mosaic floor. It was even darker upstairs but I found the first door and opened it and let the light in the window. I went through the upstairs rooms and let light in all the windows, then I went up another flight of stairs and let light in up there as well. Back downstairs in my grandparents room I sat on the bed. History crowded into my head as I looked around the room. The history of the people who had lived here and worked here. The children who were born here right in this room and the family who had died here and the tears and joys of generations growing and living together and being a family. My own tears mixing into the history of all the people I belonged to, people I didn’t know and those I did. I wanted to know more about them. I wished I had really known my Grandmother. The last few weeks of holding on to her had been tiring and bewildering. I lay down and let the tears flow. I don’t know how long I slept, but I still had my coat on and it had grown dark outside. I got my phone out and checked the time. It was the wee hours and I could sleep some more. I took my coat off and lay it over me, my shoes on the floor my phone in my hand and I slept. When I woke again the sun was just beginning to rise. I could see through the window that it would be a nice day for a drive. The town wasn’t too far away and I can get some coffee there before I leave. I will have to get the utilities turned on before I head out. I had put a few granola bars in my purse and there were some snacks still in the car from the long drive. I sat outside on the hood of my car and watched the sun rise over the fields while I ate an apple and a granola bar. It was beautiful.
Elizabeth Williams, daily writing exercise, 1,058 words.
To read the next chapters: The House 3 , The House 4 , The House 5 , The House 6, The House 7, The House 8
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