1320 Juneau Road

Kelly walked into the kitchen with a  box of glassware. She set it down on the counter, and stepped back. Her hairline was sweaty. Her knees were getting shaky. It was past lunchtime and the U-haul was almost empty.

She wandered out into the foyer and grabbed the banister to look up the stairs. It creaked as soon as she touched it. One more thing they’d need to fix.

“Taylor? Where are you,” she shouted. Her voice echoed. No response.

Taylor always did this. He always got lost when it was time to work. He was probably outside putzing around the yard, not helping, while she was sweating and hungry. She walked out front and leaned over the porch to see if she could see him in the yard. The apple trees were in full bloom and she thought about starting a family and picking apples with on a Sunday.

She walked back inside, past the stairs, and down the hallway toward the back of the house. The basement door was cracked open, and the light was on. There was a box at the door way. She nudged it to the side with her foot.

“Babe? You down there?”

There was no response.

“Babe?”

“Yeah Hun, come check this out!”

Kelly started down the stairs. “Are you hungry? I’m starving.” She got to the bottom. The basement smelled old, like wet brick and rotted wood. She could feel the air on her skin, and it made her hair stand up on her arms. The basement felt like it was breathing. She slowly made her way over to Taylor.

“Check this out!”

Taylor was crouching in front of an old wooden armoire. The doors were open, and he was looking through an old shoebox on the floor. The armoire was empty, but the box wasn’t. Kelly stood over him.

“Babe, what are you doing? I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

“In a second. Check this out.” He stood up and handed her the box. “Do you think this was theirs?”

Against the armoire were two wooden framed portraits. The people looked transparent; like time had forgotten them, but like they had not forgotten time. Kelly looked at the portraits and shuttered.

“I don’t remember seeing those when we did the walk through. Do you?”

“No,” said Taylor. “Look in the box.”

The box had some jewelry in it, a single white lace glove and a black bowtie. There was a newspaper clipping. She pulled that out, and handed the box back to Taylor. Taylor took out the bowtie and put it against his neck.

“Do you think this is the same one he’s wearing in the portrait?”

Kelly didn’t respond. She was reading the clipping.

“Babe?”

“Listen to this,” she said. “It’s from the 1800’s”

Kelly took a breath.

“Wilbur Cambell, b.1819 d.1857, and his wife Eloise Campbell, b.1821 d.1857, beloved son and daughter, brother and sister, were found dead in the basement of their home at 1320 Juneau Rd. in an apparent double murder on the night of December 23, 1857.

Neighbors complained to the police that they had not seen the couple for 3 days, and had concerns about their only child, Eugene Jonathan Campbell, b.1835, who is mentally ill. When Police arrived, they discovered Eugene sitting in the basement with the rotting corpses and mumbling to himself. He was not responsive and appeared to be in shock. A knife was also found in the basement covered in both Wilbur and Eloise’s blood. Although both Wilbur and Eloise were found fully clothed, Eloise was wearing only one white glove. Eugene was taken into custody, but has not been charged with a crime at the time of this writing. At the time of this writing, it is presumed he will be found insane, and become a ward of the state. Wilbur and Eloise are survived buy both of their parents, their many brothers and sisters, friends, and by their only son, Eugene Jonathan Campbell.

This reporter has learned that memorial services will be held this Saturday, 11 am, at Old Saint Mary’s Church, where they will also be laid to rest. God speed.”

Kelly looked up from the clipping. Trembling, she handed it to Taylor.

“Look what else’s written,” she said.

Hand written on the top, in red ink, it read: “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” Taylor looked at Kelly. She looked at him.

They didn’t breathe. They didn’t blink. The lights flickered.

 

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