Mr. Linden’s Library
Chapter 1: Too Curious
I stepped out of the car, not expecting much from what I had heard about this house. About a month ago, my Great Uncle William sent a letter inviting my family to come visit sometime. My parents didn't really think much of it because most of us have been really busy recently, but they must have put it on the fridge as a reminder to respond to soon. It's been a pretty bad summer so far. In late spring my dad got a job as a lawyer and has been working on a lot of important cases lately, not leaving much time to hang out with my siblings and myself. My mom is a real estate agent and also spends most of her time working. I have two brothers as well, James and Ben. They both have a passion for soccer and spend a lot of time playing it. So that leaves me, Isabella, to have nothing to do this summer.
I walk into the kitchen one day, to grab a snack, and notice the letter my great uncle wrote to us in his small shaky handwriting. I take it off the refrigerator and read it, and read it again. Well what else was I going to do with these few short months. I get out some paper and a pen and write him a letter.
And now here I am, a week later, stepping out of a taxi, ready to explore a little. And when I turn and actually look at the house I will be staying in, I’m surprised! I expected maybe a little cottage or small house in the woods, but no, this is what I would call a mansion. Waving to the taxi driver, who was driving away, I walk up to the cobblestone steps and use the big lion shaped door knocker. After waiting about a minute, my great uncle steps out and welcomes me in. If you could call it that. I haven’t seen him in years, because he normally keeps to himself, but he looks about the same as he did before, smudged glasses, knitted sweater vest, dress pants, and neatly combed, but receding hair.
“Hello, Isabella.” he says to me in a matter-of-fact-tone.
“Hi Great Uncle William,” I say to him stepping inside as he closes the door behind us.
“Please call me Mr. Linden, I prefer to speak formally.”
Uh ok. I thought, why can't I just call you my great uncle? But I wanted to be polite since, after all, I don't want him to kick me out or anything. So all I say is; “Ok. Thank you for inviting me.”
That first day was awkward. He didn't even show me around the whole house. He just brought me to my room and told me there would be dinner in an hour. Why do I feel like a prisoner? Anyway, I roll my suitcase into the small room and place it in the center of the floor. I’m not planning on unpacking. I will only be here for a week at the most; I am only here to explore.
My “room” is just a small space with a bed covered in an old quilt, a dusty desk in the corner, and a sort of creepy framed photo of this house, with a dark background and a strange pale green light coming from a few windows. It looks like it used to be an office of some kind. I walk out into the dark hallway and eventually find an overhead light. I don't know what to do til dinner so I just look around on the floor I’m on until Mr. Linden calls me down.
At dinner we sat at a large oak table in the empty dining room and eat some steak, not speaking. Right after, he tells me goodnight and walks up a back staircase. Why did he invite me to visit if he doesn't want me here? I guess I should take care of the mess. I take out dishes and walk through the nearest door, hoping it's the kitchen. I was right! Walking up to an old fashioned sink, I wash the dishes.
The next morning, I am called downstairs for a breakfast of eggs, toast, and an orange. I eat fast and start to walk up the staircase that leads to my room until I'm out of view of my
great uncle and I turn in a different direction into a room I've never seen before. I go in, and then walk straight through it because it's just an empty room with one chair covered in a sheet and there is a door on the other end of it wide open and looks like it leads into another room that looks relatively the same as the one I’m currently in. I hear footsteps close behind me and freeze and turn to face the door I just entered through. It's Linden of course.
“Listen isabella, I know you just came here to snoop around in an old spooky house, but you need to be careful. There are some very dangerous things here. You have to steer clear of some things. And please listen to me when i say, do not read any of my books. Don't even go into any of the libraries.” and he turns around and walks out the same door
. “O-Ok.”I am absolutely shocked. Granted, I have only heard him speak a few times, but this doesn't sound like him at all. Maybe he just wanted to sound more formal before, I don't know. Of course, the bit about the libraries just makes me want to go into them more! I've got to give him credit, I would have probably stumbled into one of the libraries at one point.
I don't know what to do with the rest of my day because I have plans to sneak into the library tonight. So I don't really do anything for the rest of the day. I wash some breakfast dishes I find in the kitchen sink after I quickly retreated out of the empty room once Linden had that talk with me. Apparently he leaves all dishes we use in the sink for me to find later and wash. It's like a little unspoken rule between him and I. For most of the day, I finish a book I was in the middle of because, I really do like reading, which, I guess he figured out because of that warning about the books. I can only imagine what he's hiding. Maybe he is some sort of magician and all of his books are about the secrets to the tricks he does. Or maybe his books lead me to a magical land like in Narnia or Alice in Wonderland! I think about what just went through my mind and laugh out loud. Did I seriously just consider that my great uncle's books create a portal to a fairy tale land? What am I doing?
Later that night at about 1:20 AM I grab a flashlight and put on some soft slippers so I can't be heard even though I seriously doubt that my great uncle is still awake at this time, it is a very big and empty house, so if I even step on a creaky floorboard, he could probably hear it if he did happen to be awake. I step out my door, looking to the left and right, and then creep to the stairs and walk down them. I go from room to room and hallway to hallway opening doors as quietly as I can. Some rooms I look into seem kind of interesting to me, but I really want to know what the big fuss is about with the libraries. Maybe I will get to check these rooms out tomorrow. I make a few close calls when I’m trying to be stealthy, I almost trip on a wall corner at one point, and I manage to not fall, but in return stub my toe really badly and try to keep myself from yelling out in pain. After wandering for a while, I come across a door that looks different from the others. It has Victorian crowning on the door frame and looks overall fancier. This has got to be a library!
The door creaks open and I look into the room. The first thing I notice is that Mr. Linden has taken much better care of this room. It is almost spotless! There are two walls opposite each other with built in bookshelves and both full wall shelving units are filled with books. The shelves and walls are white and there is a long desk at the end of the room with a two large reading lamps on either sides of the desk and some books stacked up in the center. The thing that really sets this room apart from almost every other room in the whole house is that there is absolutely no dust at all! The floor is hardwood and has some scratches but is clear! It seems like he may have renovated it very recently. Like i said before, it's almost spotless. But there is something strange in the corner next to the leg of the desk. A pair of hedge clippers almost hidden behind two long rolled up maps.
“That's so weird,” I whisper to myself in the dark. But I walk softly over to one of the bookshelf walls. The titles of the books seem normal, just regular old fashioned novels. This room makes me uneasy. So I grab a couple of the books and almost sprint out of there.
Once I get back to my room, I feel a little scared. Maybe it's from creeping around a big old house in the pitch black. I quickly shut my door, take off my slippers, and almost leap into the bed and pull the sheet around me all while still holding my flashlight and little stack of books. I’m honestly a little afraid of what is going to happen, but I assure myself I’m just imagining things, open a book up, and place the other two on the floor. Little did I know I picked the wrong book.
I begin reading and realize it's just a regular collection of short stories, nothing to be afraid of. I read for another 18 minutes about one of the author’s childhood stories before I drift off to sleep.
