Chapter Two

-Chapter Two-

After enduring another hour and a half the plane at long last touched down. Taking the time to stretch his legs Diaz hung back while the other passengers filed out into the terminal. At baggage claim he waited for his luggage to come around on the carousel. A little girl hopped around in front of him holding onto her mother’s arm humming. He gave her a smile as she waved at him, giving him a grin revealing where she was missing one of her front teeth. His shoulder was brushed as a man hurried past him grabbing a suitcase as it passed by on the carousel. Diaz shot him an annoyed glance that didn’t seem to have any effect as the man rushed towards the exit juggling a briefcase and a large black suitcase. Diaz took note of the man’s expensive leather jacket which didn’t mesh with the vibe of those around him. He figured the man must have been from out of town.

“People like that have no sense of respect.” The mother in the flowered dress said looking back at Diaz.

“Tell me about it.” He replied.

“So where are you coming from?” She asked with a warm smile.

“New York.” Diaz answered as the little girl began to tug on her mother’s sleeve clearly not happy a stranger was taking the attention away from her.

“I’m Malinda and this little energetic creature here is Samantha.” 

“I’m Diaz Rosa.” He said, catching a brief moment of hesitation in the woman’s eyes as she took in the information and her smile transformed into a frown.

“Uh…it was nice to meet you. Come on sweetheart.” She said gathering up her daughter in one hand and a purple striped suitcase in the other hurrying away without another word.

He watched after her with curiosity. Was it something he had said? He pushed the thought from his mind when he spotted his old beat-up duffle bag. He grabbed the straps, strung them across his shoulders and walked towards the exit. As soon as the doors to the outside opened he was blasted by a wave of incredible heat. He shielded his eyes against the blazing sun as he stared up at a plane passing overhead.

Eleanor had said she would be sending someone to pick him up when he arrived, but looking around he couldn’t find anyone. Cars passed one by one and he soon, feeling a bit foolish, realized he had not been given any details about who it was that was supposed to show up.

Finding a vending machine propped against the building next to the restrooms he inserted a couple of quarters and examined his options. The brands were none he was familiar with so he ended up selecting something called Mountain Mist. He took the bright green can that rattled out of the machine and found a seat on a bench under the only tree visible. From his duffle bag he got out a paperback version of 'The Dark City' he had brought with him to pass the time. He flipped through it until he came to the dog-eared page where he had left off and began reading while sipping on the citrus flavored beverage.

There was no telling how long he sat there before a large man approached who had a week’s worth of growth on his face and a shirt that was badly faded in places. “Please tell me you’re Diaz.” He said laughing nervously.

“That would be me.” Diaz said, shutting his book. The man extended his hand, which Diaz accepted. The man nearly took it off after giving a hardy shake with his rough calloused hand. “Who are you?”

“Thomas Hopkins.” The man replied in a deep growling voice. “I take care of the grounds for your grandmother.”

“Grounds?” Diaz asked at a loss.

He gave Diaz an equally puzzled look. “How much were you told?”

“Not much of anything.” Diaz confessed. Eleanor had been more interested in his life and how he was doing and less about herself.

“You're in for a surprise.” He said cryptically. “I’ll take that.” He grabbed the bag from under Diaz’s arm and guided him towards a rust colored pickup parked beyond the airport gate next to the curb. “Sorry about being so late. I got a flat on the way over.” He opened the door and sat the bag in the space behind the seat and began to start up the truck. Diaz got in the other side and noticed the patches in the seat and layers of dirt covering the floor mats. It was clearly a well worn machine. Thomas turned the key, getting a jittery response from the engine before it died. He pumped the gas pedal a couple of times and tried again getting the same result. “Old gal can get a bit temperamental sometimes.” He said laughing. He tried again and the third time proved the charm, because the rig came to life with a loud rumble that reminded him of the thunder from the plane. He smiled in relief. “Aw. There we go.” The truck jumped forward as Thomas put the metal heap into gear leaving behind a pillar of exhaust fumes in its wake. They left the airport behind and drove down a winding unpaved back road.

Diaz turned from the scenery that passed by the outside window to Thomas after a while. “How long have you worked for my grandmother?” The word ‘grandmother’ was something he was still getting used to using and did not really sound real as it left his mouth.

“Just about a year and a half now. I was somewhat of a drifter until your grandmother offered me a handyman job fixing up things around the place.” Thomas replied not taking his eyes off the road. “So I bet you left behind many girlfriends in the big city. You can’t tell me a strapping young man like yourself didn’t leave a trail of heartbreak in your wake.”

“Not really.” Diaz had only been in a handful of relationships, none of which panned out.

“You’re young. I’m sure you’ll find someone.” The truck came to a fork in the road and Thomas turned left down a winding path that passed several fenced off fields filled with grazing horses, cows and other smaller animals.

“How much longer?” Diaz asked after a couple of hours.

“A few more miles until town then another twenty to Rosa Manor.”

Diaz’s eyebrow rose. “Manor?”

Thomas gritted his teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to let that slip.”

Diaz looked sideways at the man to see if he wasn’t putting him on for laughs, but Thomas’ disposition told him everything he needed to know. “Well now you have to tell me more.” Diaz said, fascinated.

“Damn.” Thomas hissed to himself. “Guess it’s no use hiding it since you’re going to end up finding out.” He turned to Diaz and pointed in a warning manner, “But you never heard this from me.” Diaz nodded in agreement. “Your family is old money.”

“So you’re saying wealthy?” The fact that his family might be of importance engrossed him. As a child he had always made up fantasies about where he came from but that had been exactly what they were, fantasies.

“Your great-great grandfather immigrated from Spain and settled here. He started a mining venture from local rumors of hidden riches he heard the natives speak of. It took many years but he finally discovered silver…right up there.” Thomas pointed out the windshield to a tall cliff that stood between them and the sun. “Residents call it Mountain Cat Ridge.”

Diaz strained his eyes against the sunlight. “Do people still work there?”

“No.” A dark expression took hold. “It was decommissioned back when your grandfather was still alive.”

“What happened?”

“From the stories I’ve heard it was a freak accident. A collapse killed all the miners that were unlucky enough to be inside at the time. Afterwards no one dared set foot in there. They thought it was some sort of bad omen. I can’t blame them given all the deaths that followed.” Thomas said. “Ah…here we are, Black Creek. A very homey little place.”

Diaz looked out the window and saw they were entering a small town as buildings began to rise on the horizon. "I really don't plan on staying that long."

“I wouldn't be so sure about that." Thomas said. "It may not be much but it tends to grow on you.”

Diaz suddenly realized he hadn’t checked his phone since boarding the flight. He pulled out his cellphone to the horror of having zero bars. 

“I wouldn’t bother.” Thomas said, catching him staring at the device. “This whole place is…what ya call it…a dead zone. Black Creek isn’t anything but a giant valley for miles around surrounded by thick woods and high hillls. Getting a decent television station out here is hard enough.” Diaz slipped the phone back in his pocket with a sigh. Traveling through town Thomas began pointing out some of the stores and telling him about their history. The modest little town could have been a backdrop plucked right out of an old movie. There was a mom and pop style pharmacy slash candy shop, a general store and a movie theater. “They tell me this place was really something in its day.” To this testament Diaz saw many other buildings that were either boarded up or run down. “Black Creek has been having a bit of a cash flow problem ever since the last mayor skipped town with half the town’s budget in his back pocket.”

“How do people make a living?” Diaz asked.

“Take your pick.” Thomas said. “You have some small businesses like Ann’s up there on the corner,” He pointed to a small yellow painted shack, “She sells flowers and clay pottery that she makes herself. Griff just opened a consignment shop over there by the courthouse. But many families around here still farm and sell to those organic stores in the city. That’s where most of the real money comes from.”

The town itself was small enough to fit in the palm of your hand and didn’t take them more than two minutes to pass through. The buildings disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. The road became more desolate the farther they drove. A lush group of trees sprouted up from the ground as Thomas began navigating a dark twisty trail, the Weeping Grove he called it. Diaz stared out the window hypnotized by the hundreds of weeping willows standing on either side of the round, their vines swaying in the light breeze. The Grove stretched as far as the eye could see on either side. About half a mile in the trail turned sharply up hill. Halfway up Diaz spotted a weathered sign encased in stones of various sizes and colors overgrown with vines and weeds. ‘Rosa Estate' was embossed on it’s surface in fancy red lettering.

“It’s just over the top of the hill.” Thomas told Diaz.

Diaz had to do a double take when they reached the peak. Nestled within a valley was a colossal stone structure. It seemed somewhat out of place in the rural countryside. It stood three stories tall, seemingly untouched by time. The sight of it reminded him of a castle. Off some distance to the east sat an old watermill, its giant wooden wheel rotating under the force of a flowing stream.

“Welcome to Rosa Manor.” Thomas said seeing Diaz amazed. “Wasn’t what you were expecting, was it?”

“No.” Diaz answered honestly as the truck rumbled through the open iron gates that led down the path ending in a circular drive. In the center of the drive sat a fountain with three small angels dancing around in a stone garden of flowers emptying jars of water into the pool below.

Thomas brought the truck around to the front steps next to a beat up old station wagon. “Nora will take care of you.” Seeing the look in Diaz’s eyes he explained. “She’s your grandmother’s maid and caretaker. Just ring the bell in the study and she’ll be right with you.”

Diaz grabbed his bag and jumped out. Thomas gave him one final wave and pulled away down the drive. Diaz headed up the stairs to the door pausing briefly to take a deep breath. For the first time in a long time he was about to reunite with his family. He didn’t know what to expect and it was that fear that kept him planted there merely inches from the door. He pondered if he should simply hold on to his happy fantasy, turn around and walk away. He shook the thought from his head. No. This was something he had to do. Before he could give himself a chance to change his mind he grabbed the brass knocker and slammed it down twice against the heavy door. He waited a couple of seconds without getting an answer and knocked again this time a bit harder. The door swung open a crack. “Hello.” He called out getting no response. He pushed it the rest of the way and stopped transfixed at the magnificence of the interior that greeted him. He stood in the middle of a foyer that lead off into three different directions. He could see a staircase that ascended off to his left and to his right was a open room with shelves of books covering the walls, the study. He moved pass a large antique table that sat in the middle of the room with a bowl filled with fresh fruit and made his way to the right. In the study was a wooden desk on which sat a small sliver bell. He pick it up and gave it a little jingle and waited for a few minutes but no one showed up. He placed it back down and walked around the small space. He set his bag down on the sofa and walked up to the large portrait that hung in the center of the room of an old man. On the plaque under the frame was Francisco Rosa. The man was dressed in expensive old clothing and held a crane engraved with rose petals. Diaz could see a hint of familiarity in his eyes that seemed to stare straight at him. He felt a shiver run down his spine and was forced to look away. He turned his attention to the shelves where volumes of old first editions rested including a complete collection of Sherlock Holmes novels. His fingers ran over the spines until he came to The Valley of Fear, a book he had done a report on in high school.

“Tom how many times have I told you not to ring that infernal bell.” A voice said behind him. Diaz turned and withdrew his hand from the book. Standing in the doorway was a short woman in a striped dress with graying hair. Around her neck hung a pair of thick rimmed glasses attached to a thin chain. She stared at him for a few moments trying to place his face. “Can I help you?”

Diaz stood frozen in place by her stern stare. “I’m Diaz…Diaz Rosa.”

Her look changed promptly. “Oh my. I forgot you were arriving today. I'm so happy you’re here.” She saw the large dusty bag sitting on the sofa and her jaw gave a slight twitch.

“Sorry.” He said going over and grabbing it.

“No. Think nothing of it.” She replied gently. “Your grandmother is up stairs resting at the moment, but you can see her later.”

“Is she feeling okay?” Diaz asked, checking his watch. It was five past three taking in the time zone differences.

“She’s…taken a bit ill of late, but I’m sure with you around Miss Rosa will be cheered up some.” She headed towards the stairs. “Come I’ll show you where you’ll be staying and you can get some rest. I’m sure your trip was tiring. This way.” She turned left at the top.

He followed her down the hallway past four other doors. She came to the end of the hall and waited. As she took hold of the handle she paused. “This used to be your father’s old room.” She said and then opened the door. Diaz hesitated and was astonished. A colossal bed stood under the sunlight that filtered through the glass doors that lead out onto the balcony. “The bath is through there. Feel free to freshen up.” She indicated to the door facing the bed. “Unless there’s something else you need I’ll go get started on supper.” She took her leave allowing him to take in the room. He dropped his bag on the hardwood floor next to the bed where he sat down. He allowed his hands to flow over the sheet. The sensation was one he hadn’t experienced before. The sheets were like clouds compared to the cheap itchy ones he was accustomed to. He laid back and closed his eyes for a few minutes enjoying the feel beneath his skin until a sound interrupted him. He sat back up. The noise came again from somewhere outside. He went to the glass doors and walked out onto the balcony. There was a table and two chairs for anyone who wanted to enjoy the spectacular view of the rolling hills. He also had an amazing view of the grove of weeping willows from the window. The whole thing looked like a green sea as their vines caught the air. Roses’, planted beneath the window, sweet aroma was urged upwards by a gentle warm breeze.

He heard the noise once again. This time he could spot where it originated from. Behind the house was a small wooden structure that had not been visible from the road. There was a corral adjacent to it where a black stallion ran in circles. He watched the majestic beast gallop around. This was the closest he had even gotten to a real one and he had to admit the sight was breathtaking. The black creature was well toned and its coat glistened under the sun. He couldn’t help but be awestruck.

From the building a figure emerged. It was Thomas accompanied by another, a female that only came up to his shoulders. They exchanged words then went their separate ways. Thomas headed for the watermill and the girl went to the stallion, who stopped and trotted over to her. Diaz watched as she held her hand out and the horse began sniffing it. She rubbed its thick mane and it shook its neck and released a neigh. Her glaze passed the horse and up to where he stood on the balcony as if she sensed him. She waved. Diaz returned her gesture. After a while she returned to the stables pulling the stallion by the reigns leading it back inside.

Ramsey opened the door to his motel room and felt what little spirit he had remaining diminish as his eyes scanned the space. An old black and white set rested on a dresser that held many scraps and dings from years of abuse. The seventies era wallpaper was severely faded and peeling in various places. When he laid his bag down on the bed the mattress sank under its weight and did not recover.

From a quick scan of the room he could tell it was in need of a serious cleaning. The ashtray on the nightstand was still filled. From the lipstick smudges on the butts he concluded the former unfortunate resident had been female. The sheets and pillowcase were covered in stains of origins he didn’t want to even think about. The bathroom wasn’t any better. The sink had a large chunk missing on it’s side and the tub was more rust than tub. It had been the only lodging available for miles around so making the best of the situation was his only choice. He was grateful he would not be staying long. 

The long plane ride had left him completely wiped but as he checked his watch he saw he had just enough time to change and be over at the Rosa's residence before sunset, but first thing was first. He looked on the bed and saw his laptop bag had been forgotten in the rental car outside. He returned to the late model Toyota parked just outside the room. He had chosen to rent something that would not bring much attention his way from the backlot of a shady cash only dealer near the airport. He grabbed his laptop bag from the passenger side seat and headed back inside.

Setting up his laptop on the nightstand he opened his email account and began drafting a quick memo to his employer informing of his arrival in town. His employer had been very insistent on being apprised with daily reports.

When he finished he shut the lid of the laptop and unlatched the catches of his suitcase. He lifted out an expensive thousand dollar suit he had bought just before booking the flight. It wasn’t really his style but was needed for the job at hand. Returning to the bathroom he stood over the sink to splash some water on his face and freshen up. He turned the cold water handle. The pipes let out a low moan but nothing came out. He tried the hot water…and nothing. No water came. The pipes began to rumble and rattle, shaking violently. A gush of brown sludge spattered the sink from the faucet. He stared repulsed. The pipe growled again and a stream of brown muck began filling the sink. He quickly turned the handles, stopping the foul smelling thick liquid. God…the sooner he got out of there the better.