Book One: The Door Under the Stairs

Chapter 1: The Girl, The Ghost, and The Attic

Thank you all for taking the time to read my first chapter. Please note this is still a work in progress and by no means a finished polished chapter. My apologies in advance for any confusing, difficult or improper word usage. I am still learning and continuing to improve my writing each day. With that in mind I present to you the first chapter, feel free to leave a comment here or on my other social media sites.

Evalyn Lillian Renault didn’t want to go to move into her Great Aunts house to begin with, but the rules that stopped her from exploring it were, if possible, even worse. This was at least how it felt at the time, even though it was not strictly true. In fact, she was free to explore a great deal, and had a whole summer ahead of her to do so. It was the small exceptions however that had her sulking in her new room for the first few days of the move. Her bags were unpacked and her room decorated, yet instead of enjoying the room, larger than hers had been back in Seattle, she was lounging despondently in bed. Having just three places she couldn’t go just ruined the fun of everywhere she could. The dozens of creaky stair cases, the rooms unused for generations, and even the most musty ancient travel chests could neither entrance nor inspire her now. The Rules had been, of course, the first thing she was told not to do when she arrived, as if to ruin the rest on purpose.
If Eva (as she wished to be called) was feeling honest, she might have admitted that she was excited at first about the prospect of moving here. Renault Mansion. Her Father had grown up here, but they had never visited, though it was only a few states over in Wyoming. Her family had built it a long time ago, though she wasn’t sure when, and it had stayed in the family ever sense. Until just a few months ago it had been home to her Great Aunt Margret alone, but since she has died (‘Passed on’ her Father called it) it had fallen to her family to move and tend it. Eva however was not feeling honest, and was yet young enough to she still believed that being, or acting, miserable would be a punishment to her parents.
Renault Mansion was a gigantic example of Early American Architecture, or so her Mother claimed. There were three floors and an attic with over eleven rooms, all with gated balconies and what Eva thought was an unnecessary amount of embellishment. Everything was carved or molded in someway, and it looked like they should be selling tour tickets rather than living in it. That being said, it wasn’t unusual to get the odd tourist now and then studying the history of the area. The entire property was in part surrounded by a national forest, and Eva had been particularly looking forward to spending time in it on the far side of the house. It was this in part that was to be denied her.
It was on the very first day of them moving in that her Mother gave her the Rules of Renault Mansion. The first Rule was; Don’t enter the forest beyond pond after sunset, and when you go at all don’t go farther than where you can see the weather vane atop of the house. The forest was dangerous. The second Rule was; Don’t go into the attic, it was old and could be dangerous (though Eva could think of any reason that might be). Most importantly, the third Rule; Never, ever, open the locked door under the stairs in the hallway, that’s where the crawl space was, and it could be very dangerous.
Of the options, it was the door that had Eva the most curious. She had done her best to avoid it. Staying alone in her room had seen to that. After days of sulking had yielded no results however, she decided she should go outside when she could. Certainly, there was adventure to be had in the forest that edged ever closer. Every once in a while though, she would have to return inside and the door under the stairs would still be there.
The door was old. Eva supposed everything in the house was, but somehow it seemed the oldest, older then everything else in Renault Mansion. The once-white paint was dirty and peeled like the other cabinets and doors, and yet was dirtier, and more peeled. The wood was cracked and misshapen like the walls, and yet seemed to have deeper, darker cracks, with more bulbous contortions. No matter what her mother or father would say, this small door was the oldest thing in the house, like the house was built to hold it, not the other way around. There was however one thing that really made it stand out, to Eva at least, and that was the lock. It wasn’t a pad lock or a combination lock like the lockers had at school. It wasn’t even like the normal lock that was on the doors of the house. The lock was an elegant tarnished brass box, and it was set solidly against both the door and the wall. The longer that Eva stared at it the less she could be sure as to which side it was fixed to, like the door might be holding the wall closed instead of the other way around. As if to make the temptation worse, there was a key chained to the opposite side of the door. And a fancier key Eva had never seen in all her life. Worn and tarnished as much at the door itself, the chain on it reached just long enough to fit the double etched key nicely into the lock. At least that’s was she thought after the long lingering minutes looking at it as she passed it on the way to the kitchen. The key looked like might have been made of silver, though it was hard to tell, and had strange twisted designs etched all over it. When she tried to get it in, the moment she arrived, her mother had shooed her away, and then explained the Rules.
Once the sulking has subsided, Eva’s summer days began with an endless haze of sunshine and exploration. From the friends she made with the fishes of the ponds, to the old tales told her by the trees as she dreamed when napping in them, her time was as magical as she could imagine. After the first week she began to think about the door under the stairs less and less, until it only bothered her when she went by it on the way to the kitchen, which was to say, only a few times a day.
The only real disturbance in her otherwise enjoyably summer start came as a result of her own foolishness. Despite the Rule about not going far into the forest, Eva had played further in then she ought to have, and in doing so came across a red fox cub, bounding around in the brush. She had watched, transfixed by it, and finally began to follow it as it moved into the forest. She became so caught up in watching it, that when it met up with its own Mother, and they ran out of sight, Eva realized she had no idea which was the way back to Renault Mansion. She walked for a long time panicking through the sage smelling woods, until she finally alighted on a small clearing. It was perfectly round, with a huge boulder seated in the center. It would have been a beautiful spot, but was unfortunately more than half taken over with thorny bushes. She cut herself a number of times before making it to the boulder. Once she had climbed up it though, she was able to see the weather vane on the house peeking just over the trees, and had been able to swiftly make her way home.
That was how Eva broke the first Rule, and she did not feel any temptation to break that Rule again.
After a few weeks came a rare patch of rain, but it wasn’t like the slow drizzle she loved back in Seattle where she was born. When the rain started to pour in Wyoming, it really poured. And it poured. And poured further. For the first day she just tried to read books in the big old study, but she wasn’t much of a reader and had seen most of the pictures in them by the end of the day, as there weren’t many. She kept hoping that whole first day that the rain would stop but the day wasted itself until it was time for bed. On the next day the sky continued to fall in drops, so she dedicated herself to explore everything in the house. Eva opened every door and looked through every window. The rooms of her new home were filled with interesting relics. Everything was old, and she did not understand what most of it had been used for, which of course only made them more magical and interesting. As she neared the time for dinner she had finally come to the attic, the last place on the list (save of course for the door under the stairs.
Eva knew that the door to the attic wasn’t really a door at all, it was a big rope that when you pulled it, the ceiling opened up and a stairway unfolded like magic. She knew this, because after staring at the rope for a long time she let the temptation sway her, and she had pulled on it. It was not the Eva was a greatly disobedient child, not really, but her the longer she let herself look at it the more she wanted to go up their. Has she been perhaps a little wiser, she might have known that this is always how temptations work. As it was, she was just about to ascend the small steps when she heard her father calling her down for dinner. Disappointed, but partly relived, she folded the stairs back up and left for dinner.

*****

That night Eva had woken up, the full moon shining brightly through her window directly on her face. The rain had finally stopped, and she could see out into the yard. The wet grass and leave shone in the moonlight, making everything look like it was made of crystal. She got up shivering and went to her closet and pulled out her favorite jean-jacket, which she threw over her pajamas as she grabbed a flashlight. Unsure of exactly what her plan was she crept out of her bedroom, though given the size of the house there was little chance of being heard. She thought how wonderful it might be to see the yard in the moon light and began to sneak towards the stairway, but then stopped as she heard soft thumping steps down below. Thinking it must be her father she turned off her flashlight and headed back to her room.
Just as she reached the door to it though, she remembered the attic. Having been all around the house she remembered seeing a round window up high she knew must come from it.
“What a view it must be in the moon light!” she thought excitedly and began to tip-toe up the other stairs instead. When she reached the third floor she pulled out her flashlight again and turned it on, its soft yellow light illuminating the sparse wood floor. She headed to the back room the had the attic access, and began to hold her breath in anticipation.
The stairs that she pulled down with the rope were creaky, and protested even under her small weight. As she climbed she thought that even her parents couldn’t get up there safely, at least not her father. Eva was too excited to worry all about that though, and when she had clambered over the lip of the door she found herself at last in the large attic room.
This is how Eva broke the second Rule.
The room she stood in was dim, the only light coming from the round window she had hoped for on the farthest wall, showing the starry night sky beyond. The floor was made of hand hewed wooden slats, laid out across the supporting beans of the ceiling below. Everything was covered in the dusty echos of time gone by, giving all the objects a similar appearance. Wire sewing manikins, ornately carved aged furniture, and dull metal bound and cornered travel chests cluttered the room. Alongside them were a few newer looking cardboard boxes with ‘Christmas ornament’ and the like written in sharpie.
Eva started to walk in between the great stacks of relics, some covered up by faded fabrics and others fallen to the floor, but for the most part she didn’t think anybody had touched any of them in a hundred years, it was after all a very old house. As she reached the end of it she saw a lone chest, sitting on a table underneath the high window. It was dusty, peeling, and tarnished as everything in the house was, if perhaps more faded from sitting underneath the window for years uncounted. As she reached it felt like fate, it was exactly tall enough for her to climb and reach the window. So she climbed up the rickety old table and up on top of the chest, and as she stood she found that the window was too grimy to see through. She did see however, a small key sitting on the window frame. It was the strangest shape she had ever seen, so much so that she wasn’t certain it was really a key at all. Instead of ending in twisted teeth off to one side, it had a three-inch rod that split into a hollow teardrop shaped hole, with numerous ridges around its sides. She lifted her arm to grab it, and as soon as her hand closed around it the small table gave way. Eva, chest, and flashlight, came tumbling sideways towards the ground.
Before she could even work up a proper scream, she had dropped with a ‘fwumph’ on to a soft, though extremely dusty, couch. As soon as she landed she was too busy coughing and sputtering to think about the scream until she found herself to be quite safe.
A light, reedy, voice whispered nearby “That sounded like an awful tumble my dear, are you well?”
Now then Eva did scream a little, though in surprise this time. She twisted around in her seat, turning up the dust again in swirls around her. She didn’t see anything. Mustering up her courage to keep the fear from her voice she said, “Who’s there! W-what are you doing in my house?”
“Is it your house little girl? Or does it belong to your parents? Or to myself whom lives here, or to the people who built it? It would seem to me you have much less cause to call it yours and so much less right for indignation then I at you being here.” said the voice. It carried the same tone that all adults had when talking to children they would rather not have much to do with.
“I guess I don’t know,” said Eva, “But I’ve never seen you in the house, and I don’t even see you now! Where are you?”
Then she felt a rustle of wind in the room, blowing up more and more dust around and lifting a pile of cloths that had fallen out of the collapsed trunk under the window. The wind blew the clothes high into the air then dropped them, settling neatly on to one of the wire manikins, dressing it in an old ivory wedding dress and veil. Completing the outfit was a necklace of cracked and shattered pearls draped around its neck.
“There,” said the voice, now coming from behind the manikins veil, “You may address me here. I suppose I should count myself lucky that any should come to speak with me. For I am trapped in this attic, blind and abandoned without even a form to call my own. Nobody has come to me in a very long time.”
Eva got out of the couch as the voice continued. She became increasingly sure that it was a female voice, though it was so old and choked sounding she couldn’t be sure. She moved back so that she was looking at the manikin, and at the same time began inching slowly towards the stairs. She didn’t know much about ghosts, but she was pretty sure that most were worth getting away from. “If she’s bound to the attic,” Eva thought, “then she shouldn’t be able to follow me back down the stairway.”
The voice continued, “As to whom this house belongs, in a way you could say it is mine by rights. It is indeed where I dwell, and have dwelt the longest, for longer than you might imagine. However, in another way, you could say that I’ve never been the master of this house. Once there was a time when I indeed tried to make it mine, to declare myself its master, but no. No. Instead, I must content myself to simply while away my time here, forbidden from following my dreams, such as they remain.” As she spoke, Eva had decided it was definitely a woman, the voice became less faint and whispering, firming with the strength of its bitterness.
“I’m sure a young girl like yourself, with such kind parents, would know nothing of what it is like to be trapped and forbidden from doing as you like. I’m sure that they let you do whatever you wish, whenever you wish it.”
“Oh no,” Eva responded in surprise, “I still need to do my chores and things. And eat my vegetables. And I can’t stay up late no matter how much I beg them. Not to mention the Rules.”
“Ah, well yes, that is to be expected. Those are the things parents must say to their little girls. Yet still, I’m sure you wander, play, and enjoy the sun, stars, and trees. You are not bound to this house, to a room, like I am. I’m sure, since you have come even to this forlorn attic, that no door is closed to you in this home of theirs.”
Eva thought about it for a moment, it did seem like she had much more freedom than this ghost. Her teacher last year had told her though, that it was important to try to find what makes people alike, and not different, especially when meeting them. It did sound as though this voice was very trapped, like the worse sort of being grounding.
Eventually she said, “Well I suppose that I don’t really know what its like to be unable to leave here, but that’s not the same as being able to go everywhere I want. There’s the door down stairs that I’m not allowed to open. Its kept locked and everything”
The voice didn’t respond for a second, then spoke with an edge to its tone, “Did they really say that you couldn’t open any door? How absurd.”
“Well,” said answered slowly, “It’s just this one near under the stairs… it’s got a big lock on it.”
“I see,” the ghost responded, “And do you know what locks are for?”
“Um, to keep somebody out?” answered Eva. She was about half-way to the stairs now, and desperately wanting to run.
“Oh there are many reasons for locks. Locks to keep people from taking what’s behind them, and locks for keeping things in. I know much about locks. I can tell you this, nobody locks anything if it’s not important. Tell me child, are you included in all that your parents discuss? When they have company do they ask what you think about things, do they even seem to care about your thoughts on matters?
Not sure where the ghost was going with this Eva said, “Not about grown up things I guess but-”
The voice then interrupted her, and despite its next words, its tone was sympathetic and engaging, like a caring teacher. “Listen to me girl and heed my words on this. Your parents keep many things from you, they do not tell you everything because they do not want you to know everything that they know. That is why parents use locks on important things, like where they keep the money, or their rooms, or doors under the stairs where they keep secret things. They are trying to keep you from learning everything that they know, for if you did then they would have to take you seriously. They couldn’t tell you what to do, like make you go to bed early or eat the things that you do not enjoy. These are things they can do, because they say they know better do they not? So listen to me child, listen to one who has been locked away from the home and life that they want. If you want to be able to live and enjoy your life without these Rules, to be able to be wise and important like your parents, you must not wait until they decide to share their secrets. If you wait, you may end up like I did, waiting forever and never ever getting the things you want.”
Eva wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so instead she said, “Its late and I should probably get back to bed, I’m not sure my parents wanted me up here, so I should probably go back.” This was of course not true, she knew they did not want her up here, and now suspected why.
“Of course little girl.” said the voice briskly, “You should do as your parents say. However, in the future, as you are sent to bed earlier then you wish, remember what I have told you, and remember what wisdom you have learned this night from going where you should. For you would not have met me and gained a friend had you not ventured beyond your parents rules. For are we not friends you and I?”
Eva didn’t feel like being friends with the ghost, but instead said politely, “I suppose we can be, if you want,” Eva’s eyes turned towards the door in the floor, she was so close to it now. “But I don’t even know your name, and I really must go.”
“Then before you go I will tell you my name and you shall tell me yours, and then you will visit me again in my loneliness, yes? When I was anything still worth a name, they called me Mistress Agnious Renault. And you are named?”
“Um,” Eva said, hesitating with her body now turned fully toward the door. She didn’t want to admit to the specter that she was probably related to her and just said, “My name is Eva.”
At last Eva had made it to the exit, and she finally escaped down the stairs. It certainly felt like an escape, as she was shuddering in fear. She would never go back up there again for anything, whatever she had said to the ghost. It was the worst thing she had ever been though. As she reached for the stairs to fold them back up she realized she still held the key in her hand. Without thinking, she slipped it into the breast pocket of her jean jacket before reaching again for the base of the stairs. She was so shaken by the encounter that she missed that last words Agnious muttered.
“Eva you say? So… has my attendant return to me at last?”