Time Witch: Backward Things - Part 2

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Links: Part 1

Short on time? Scan the text and just read the Bold parts. Then come back later and read the whole thing.

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Recap: Evangeline found an old tintype photograph of a woman who looked just like her! And Danna kept pressing her boss to checkout the old Carnegie Library’s closet.

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“Did you find something?”

“No!” Evangeline shoved the photograph into the back of the red leather book. Her lookalike in the photo had to be a fluke. She apologized for barking at Danna with a guilty shrug, pointing at her favorite chair. “Don’t you just want to sit down and read?”

Danna shook her head. “No, I want you to move your little booty toward the closet.” 

Having no choice but to agree, Evangeline added the limerick book—with its astounding photograph—to the rotating shelf. It’s not me, she thought, although every instinct screamed at her to get a magnifying glass and study the image until her eyes bled. Instead, she took the next best course of action… rationalizing that she was mistaken. The woman in the tintype only resembled her. A slight similarity at best. That’s all. Logic kicked in. It had nothing to do with her family or the disaster that took them away. None of that could have followed her to Baxter Creek.

Danna grabbed Evangeline’s hand and guided her to the other side of the building, right up to the closet door. It was tucked between the Librarian’s Lounge and the book stacks.

“Every drawer holds a treasure, so you should be the one to open them first.” Danna stepped back, prompting Evangeline to enter and explore.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen inside this closet,” Evangeline said.

Before closing on the property, she visited the site and toured the space. It was a time capsule—filled with all the original fixtures and furniture, plus the books and accumulated library items. The closet had been stuffed with boxes, so she’d only been able to peek into inside. Danna had removed all of them, exposing floor-to-ceiling built-in drawers.

Frankly, Evangeline had planned to turn the closet into another bathroom but didn’t have the budget. That plan poofed into the ether, however, when she gawked at the space, drinking in the artistry that tickled her nose with decades of beeswax. The polish had been so engrained in the wood that it built up a rich luster. It still shone brightly.

One bare bulb hung from a wire in the middle of the walk-in closet, but its soft light was easy on the eyes. Evangeline looked up at it, surprised.

“It’s an Edison lightbulb,” Danna said, proud of the discovery. “I found a whole box of ’em in one of the closet cupboards.”

“Edison lightbulbs? Thomas Edison?” Evangeline’s hand caressed the wooden interior. “A talented craftsman did this work.”

“Enjoy!” Danna laughed, realizing she’d lost Evangeline’s attention when her boss entered the closet. “Have fun, but don’t stay in there all night.”

Danna collected her purse and headed out.

“Hmm?” Evangeline admired the curves and tone of the wood, turning to share her joy with Danna but realizing she’d gone. “Oh. Thanks. Night.”

All alone in the library, Evangeline was in her element, yet torn. She felt a strong pull to return to the photograph and its curious image. The closet tugged her heart in the other direction. “Five minutes,” she promised no one.

The familiar woman in the tintype could wait. They all had to wait their turn. Even the more common stresses associated with renovations. Unseen repairs. Money running out. It felt like every day added another challenge. They threatened to become a tsunami if she took them as a whole, so she’d kept her sanity by lowering each occurrence to the same level—just another item on the to-do list.

Although the photo was a completely different beast. She glanced back to where it waited. “Five minutes,” she repeated, a little more forcefully.

Evangeline craved something positive. This is what I expected from a vintage library, she thought, running a hand down a vertical section of oak. It formed one side of a cabinet, smooth as glass, and aged to a tawny luster. “Lovely,” she sighed.

However, a slight breeze from the other side of the closet stopped all the good vibes. She inspected the far corner, raising a hand to locate the draft. It came from a four-foot-tall recess in the cabinetry. The inset was big enough to hold a stepladder. 

Oh no! Another repair? Evangeline groaned. All the good feelings came crashing to the ground.

She sat on the floor, contemplating the source of the draft. It was not some big crack, but more like a dark seam between two pieces of wood. She crawled to it and ran a hand along the back of the recess. Cold air pushed through the vertical seam.

With an “uh-oh” look, Evangeline worried it meant a costly addition to her renovation, especially since she knew the spot was one of the library’s outer walls. “This can’t be good,” she said.

Sweet One.

“What?” Evangeline turned, sure she’d heard a man’s whisper or a strong wind whistling outside the library. She shook her head. “You’re doing it again, Evan.”

Using her nickname helped her snap out of it. She needed to get back to reality and conduct a thorough inspection of the closet. She decided to assess the scope of the problem and add it to the list.

She tapped on the wall. A hollow sound echoed back. It wasn’t what she expected, and a greenish glow vibrated along the seam. Is it getting worse? As she watched, the light snaked around the whole back panel of the alcove, making the panel resemble a door. 

“Oh, hell, no.” Before she could talk herself out of it, Evangeline raised both hands and pushed on the recessed wall. It popped away from her.

With a WHOOSH, a small door-like section of the wall opened into a short tunnel. A faint light shone inside—the source of the glow. It sparkled with a blue-green shimmer.

“Whoa!” Evangeline sat back on the closet floor, trying to understand what she’d discovered. It made no sense. “Unless they built outer walls thicker in 1910, ridiculously thicker, you shouldn’t be here,” she said to the tunnel. “There’s no room for you!”

Getting to her knees, she examined the hidden space. The chiseled wall felt damp but solid. She crouched into a squat, which allowed her to take a tentative sidestep into the passageway. The ground crunched under her shoe.

Weird.

Ducking to completely enter the tunnel, she couldn’t go far without getting closer to the strange light. A faint buzzing spun around her head. The noise brought a shifting darkness with it, licking out. Alive. She froze, wary, and backed up.

The blue-green light sparkled brighter, almost friendly. It reached out with a soothing tune of welcome that banished all the darkness. She felt drawn to the display as it arched outward in lovely, hypnotic swirls. Enticed, she changed her mind and went forward, reaching out to touch a beam. It stretched toward her, closing the distance. She curled her fingers in the blue-green rays. They shimmered and tickled her whole arm.

“Hello, friend,” she said to the light, knowing it but not knowing how. It stimulated a long-forgotten childhood memory. “Have we met before?”

The buzzing softened, mellowing into the sound of a babbling brook. She knew one had once existed behind the library, recalling a framed etching by the staircase. It showed the library during construction. Sadly, the river had been diverted as the town grew and no longer graced the property.

“Hello?” Evangeline called, seeing a dark shape blocking the light. “Who’s there?”

The blue-green sparkles expanded, fading into a blinding white light.

Covering her eyes, Evangeline blinked. She had to close them momentarily as they adjusted to the sudden brightness. Her senses, however, began to paint a picture in her mind’s eye.

The close, claustrophobic feeling of the tunnel evaporated into a space that hummed with insects and the croak of frogs, as well as assaulting her nose with the pollen of spring flowers. Impatience got the best of her. She had to see what she was hearing and smelling!

Evangeline dropped her hand, squinting at her surroundings. Slowly turning, she gaped at the view. “No way!”

Miraculously, Evangeline stood outside the library on the bank of a lazy river. Songbirds flew overhead, dancing from tree to tree in the afternoon sun. A breeze picked up, blowing long strands of hair across her face.

Stunned, she couldn’t process any of it. With an impatient hand, Evangeline pulled her hair over an ear, recognizing the library’s back wall. Its sturdy, brick exterior looked better than she’d ever seen, but nothing made sense. At the back of the library was a parking lot, not a calm country scene with a view of rolling hills. “Where am I?”

“You’re on my construction site, lass.” The deep male voice hinted at laughter and reminded her of the whisper she’d heard in the closet. Sweet one.

Evangeline turned to see him. Standing a good foot taller, he was all muscle with hair windswept across his forehead, cut short at the sides with a close-trimmed beard. He had a hipster style, but his eyes said otherwise, as if he’d lived through hell but remained true to his heart. A good man, she decided, although the gut reaction did nothing to ease her alarm. She backed away.

“Where am I?” she repeated. “It should be nighttime, not day!”

Alarmed, he came forward, reaching out to stop her from backing into a wheelbarrow full of rocks, but it only made her retreat faster.

“What are you wearing?” She scanned his rough linen pants, suspenders, blue-gray pinstriped shirt with rolled sleeves, and a cap tucked into his waistband. It was vintage. “Are you reenacting something?”

“Careful!” He grabbed her elbow.

It didn’t stop her from continuing to back up toward the tunnel. “Let go!”

Without any warning, the blue-green lights returned. They swirled around the couple, snuffing out the bright sun and wrapping them in darkness. Their eyes locked for a moment. His full of concern, hers shocked. The buzzing hissed in the air like static electricity. It reached a painful pitch. Evangeline shut her eyes.

In a flash, she stumbled back into the closet.

Still feeling his hands on her arms, Evangeline opened her eyes to the most unusual sight—a skeleton. Its bony hands grasped her arms, fully dressed in the man’s same vintage clothes. She wanted to scream, but her legs went weak, and she tumbled to the closet floor. The last thing she remembered… a deep, loving male voice whispering…

Sweet One.

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Return for another installment next week!