The Box In The Lake, Part One

The Box In The Lake, Part One

A Story by Charles Kadib

The man lived all alone in a large house. Placed in the middle of a vast stretch of land, it's rear was cut off from the surrounding woods by a lake almost entirely covered by water lilies floating and glistening in the summer sun. The house was jacobean,built with white bricks,two storeyed and provided with many mullioned windows that overlooked an extensive lawn.Shrubs,daffodils and massive trees that housed joyful chirping birds fluttering from branch to branch took up much part of the estate,creating an illusion of peace. And the man was at peace in his house, completely alone and jealously blocking off any intrusion to his privacy. It was well known about the town that apart from Nora & Elizabeth, the two women who went weekly to clean the large house,not even a fly could penetrate the man's solitude. No one knew his name nor where he had come from neither did they often see him around. The only people who could have known anything about him were the two women who
for some strange reasons were aversed to gossiping about what they saw in the house, even though Elizabeth was famous for the habit. The only thing they ever told their neighbours was that no matter how much dirt they cleaned at the house, never had they come across a stray piece of paper. They too had no means of identifying their boss so they called him SIR and went about their business.
On the slated day the women made their way to the big house. Their boss was a notorious late raiser so they were not curious when they saw no one about the house. Immediately they put on their aprons, tapped on their bluetooth earpieces so they could talk while working since the house was large and often got quiet. They divided themselves in the usual way with Nora taking on the upper and most sensitive parts of the house while Elizabeth took up the lower parts.
"I really can't wait to get done here, you know the steph is having a little party by twelve, you coming?" asked Lizzie after they had worked for some time in complete silence.
She had to say it several times before Nora responded, sounding like she had been dragged from a different line of thought.
"I heard the first time Lizzie. I'm neither deaf nor retarded,still 40" she said irritably.
"Well, are you coming?"
"No." said Nora who preferred her garden to discussing village affairs with the town's most loudmouthed women, "I'd rather train mice besides you know i can't stand steph and her nonsense."
"C'mon Nora It'd be fun." Enthused Lizzie and when there was no response from her friend she mused, " its not like a middle age woman can get much excitement around here anyways hey ..Nora?Nora, you listening?"
The reply to her inquiry was a piercing scream that shot right through her piece and directly to her ear drums, followed by a heavy thud of someone falling and a faint hint of splintering glass. Terror seized her but concern for her friend over ruled her fear and caused her to dash out from the kitchen where she had been lazily loading plates into a dish washer through the various doors and hallways that seemed to carry her in bewildering circles until she finally located the grand hall leading to the great room where she knew Nora often worked. Though the hall and the adjoining room were impressive she did not even stop to admire them. Her attention at the moment was captured by the sight of her friend lying on her back just at the foot of the bed. Across the capacious room Elizabeth noted that a wardrobe at the far side had been flung open,she did not know who did it. At the right side of the bed, lying facedown was the body of her boss sprawled untidily on his own rug. Instinctively she looked at the window directly above the body and saw that the glass of the window had been completely shattered, leaving several large fragments on the rich carpet. Seeing this for some strange reason increased her anxiety. Perhaps it was the realization that whoever was responsible could still be in the room. She began to feel dizzy, her hands grew cold and her legs felt weak. The last thing she remembered where the gentle swaying of the curtains covering the broken window, swaying so innocently in the summer breeze...

To be continued...

© 2015 Charles Kadib

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Added on January 7, 2015
Last Updated on January 7, 2015
Tags: Mystery, Lindley, House


Charles Kadib
Charles Kadib

Port-Harcourt , Nigeria

I favour the subtle approach, tiny little details embedded in the work that finally become highly significant in the end..dont know why, maybe cos i like the little guys so much. more..