Another Side

Another Side

1736 Lamont Street. I knew this was the place when I first saw it. A stately Victorian tucked away in a quiet, tree lined neighborhood. The house looked majestic sitting there bordered by lovely rows of azaleas across the front. Sure, it needed some work, but houses like this don't come along every day.

"It is perfect!" I exclaimed.

My husband, Adam, turned to me and smiled.

"I agree," he said.

Of course the bottom line is that he would agree to anything if it meant not spending another weekend house hunting. Adam loved his free time and he was anxious to get back to it.

We met the real estate agent at the office. "We'll take it," I told her. Then we began the process to purchase the house.

Two months later, it was ours. All 3500 square feet of house and spacious lawn. I was excited, sure it meant a little work, but it would not be that bad. We stopped at the real estate company to pick up the keys.

"Oh, by the way, the former owner of the house, will be finished up there today," said the realtor. "She asked if you could stop by. She has some information about the house and some wonderful tips on maintaining the azaleas."

"Great," I replied. "We would love to meet her."

So there we were, studying the outside of the house. "This will be nice," I thought to myself. I had just recently quit my job as an art director and I was looking forward to working in the house to fill up my days. I was a bit worried about having too much time on my hands and I was anxious to stage a foray into the world of interior decorating.

As Adam and I admired the house, a short, stocky lady of about sixty-five came toward us. She had on a print dress and I noticed how her gray hair framed her face. It was a nice face, with sparkling eyes. She smiled and extended her hand.

"Hello, I'm Abigal Trenholm. I was so pleased to learn that such a nice, young couple bought my house."

"We are pleased to meet you," answered Adam.

"I am delighted, and if I may, I'd like to give you a little history on the house. It was built during the Civil War, so it is quite historic. It has been in my family for about a hundred years. I have lived here for forty years, and my parents before that. So you see, it is quite difficult for me to sell it.

Adam and I nodded in sympathy. Abigal lead us through our new house. I could see from her expression that she was leading us through years of memories, families, and happy times. Many good memories existed for her at 1736 Lamont Street.

Abigal explained that her sister was ill and now the time had come to move away and care for her. So it became necessary to sell the house quickly. It was comforting to see someone who thought so much of the house. We felt secure knowing it had been so looked after.

Two and one-half stories of history spread before us. The front porch was a gathering place supported by two large columns. The windows were narrow and some had tiny paines. Two windows were triangular in shape creating lots of places for dust to hide. Ornate glass sparkled from the french doors that opened into the sitting room and three balconies beckoned evening breezes.

"I have been going to replace that insulation, but I haven't gotten around to it, so you might want to see about that. Martin's Hardware store can order wood if you need to replace any of it. They can also give you suggestions for paint. You know these old houses, they require a little special treatment."

Finally, we walked Abigal to the door and out into the front yard. She looked around and I thought she was a little sad.

"Well, now I have covered the house, the last thing I must mention to you is the azaleas. It is very important that you follow my instructions if you want them to do well."

Adam and I smiled at each other. I could read his thoughts. Just another old lady consumed with showing off her gardening skills.

"You should water them every other day. Just after sunrise is best. Twice a week, pour coffee grounds on them. When the blooms began to die, cut the old ones off. If you follow my instructions, you won't have any problems and they will just grow and grow."

Adam grinned. "Thanks, and we certainly appreciate that, Abigal."

"Now, I'll leave you my phone number so that if you have questions you can call. Also, maybe I can get your number after you move in, so if I get back to Colleyville, maybe I could come see the place."

We assured her that we would love for her to come visit, and with that the taxi arrived to take Abigal to the airport and away from her home of forty years. I walked with her to the taxi. As Adam helped put her baggage in the back of the cab, she turned to me.

"Dear, please take care with the flowers. Promise me that you will, you see, I planted them myself. I don't know if I can make you understand how they enhance the house...and how I was hoping to find someone who would like them."

As she spoke, I thought I saw something in her eyes, which was maybe the fear of giving up her home and heading into an uncertain future. I felt sorry for her and tried to picture myself at that age, alone, owning nothing else, sacrificing the few remaining years of life to do what was right.

"Sure, Abigal, I like plants. It won't be that much trouble."

With that, she appeared to be relieved. Abigal said goodbye to us. She climbed into the taxi, tucked the print skirt around her legs and clutched her handbag at her side. Her rhinestone pendant reflected tiny beams of light as she waved goodbye and the taxi made it's way down Lamont street.

Move in day was upon us. The weather was nice that morning, but the afternoon turned to rain. We watched and tried to maneuver the delivery so the furniture would not be coated with water droplets. The job of moving done and the unpacking began. Adam and I did not have enough furniture for the house and couldn't seem to agree on things to purchase. After being alike for so many years, it was strange that our tastes were going in opposite directions. Two days later, Adam had to

get back to work and I was left to deal with the house.

"I don't care, just do whatever you want to do," he remarked smugly as he took the last drink from his coffee and headed out the door one morning.

So I began. The wood inside had to be stripped and redone. Cabinets had to be scraped and painted. Stairwells and to be sanded and touched up. I found my days to be much too short. The more work I poured into the house, the more work needed to be done. I began to wonder if we had stumbled on a good deal after all. However, I did take Ms. Trehnholm's advice, exhausted as I was, to pamper the azaleas. They did appear to love the attention, and flourish they did. The flowers expanded into a beautiful, full color carpet extending the entire length of the house.

Ms. Trenholm called me one day and I described the flowers to her. She sounded thrilled that they were doing so well.

Not long after the move, the tedious hours spent working in the house and yard began to catch up with me. I started to loose interest and my energy level began to drop. Adam said, "Carolyn, you need to take some time off. This house has survived all these years, it can survive a few more."

I agreed and even though I found this work so rewarding, I decided to take a short trip to visit my parents. While I was away, Adam did what he could with the azaleas, but he worked long hours at the office and he refused to give up his Sunday golf game. He didn't mist them every day or put the coffee grounds on them in the mornings.

My mother was concerned, "You just look awful, dear, can I make an

appointment with my doctor?"

I declined explaining that the long hours of manual labor were probably the culprit. I decided to make arrangements to go home early. When I arrived at the house, I noticed the azaleas were not as lovely as they had been. They appeared to be a bit discolored, and they drifted limply in the afternoon breeze. I told myself that I would pick up where Adam had neglected them as soon as I could get some rest and get rid of the bug I had.

The next day my condition had not improved, so I went to see Dr. Edwards. He told me I was fine, but suffering from exhaustion. He gave me a prescription and said to go home and get lots of rest.

"You should be completely normal in a couple of days," he said.

I went back to the home and climbed into bed. Later that day I arose to find I was really not feeling any better. I noticed the azaleas as I stepped into the yard. It was even more obvious that Adam had not tended to them for some time. I promised to do better the following morning. I reassured myself that I would be better by then. I entered the house and attempted some light housekeeping. As the minutes passed, I became more frail. The telephone rang and Ms. Trehnholm was on the other end.

"Hello, Carolyn, how are you dear?" she asked me.

"I'm fine," I told her. I was slightly bitter. Why did she have to bother me anyway? Something in my tone gave my those feelings away.

"Are you sure?" she asked. A note of disbelief was apparent in her voice.

"Just a little sinus problem," I answered.

"I hope you are taking care of yourself?" Abigal asked. "I just thought I would call to see if you were having any luck with the azaleas?."

"The flowers are okay, I have taken your advice and it is working out nicely," I answered.

I was quite cross when I hung up the phone thinking I might have to cope with that old woman for years to come. I could picture it now, every two weeks or so. Ring, ring..."How's those damn pink flowers?" Ring, ring..."Husband not home...working or playing golf?" I wondered how long the damn flowers would bloom anyway, a few weeks, all summer, or all year? I made a mental note to research azaleas.

The next day, I just couldn't get up. Adam kissed me goodbye on the forehead.

"If you aren't any better tomorrow, we should go back to the doctor. In fact, I'm going to make plans to take off and go with you myself."

"That won't be necessary," I assured him. "I'll be up and around after this morning. I promise." I almost felt sorry for him, and began to feel that I must have been too quick to criticize. He was really worried about me. I lay in bed and listened as he made his way downstairs and out the door. I felt lonely and desolate. I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

As sleep fell upon me, the room appeared to change. Shadows crept across the walls. I was in a field of nice, flowing grass. The grass moved with the wind and everything was so peaceful. I liked it there and felt I could stay in that field in the twilight and the wind and the swaying grass.

"Carolyn, wake up, wake up, you are having a dream!"

"No, I'm not dreaming. There were shadows in here, beautiful shadows in a field and I was just there in the open and everything was so peaceful."

Adam's expression mirrored his concern. "I'm taking you to the hospital. You are not to be alone until you are better."

Dr. Edwards was unable to find anything wrong with me for the second time. I watched his soft, wrinkled face study me.

"I don't understand," he murmured. "There is no reason to hospitalize her," he told Adam. "Let me add another prescription and in two days, I hope there will be marked improvement."

Meanwhile, Adam had phoned my mother. When we drove into our driveway, she came out to meet us.

"You are so pale," she said.

"Dr. Edwards said I should be okay in two days," I replied.

"Well, I'm certainly not leaving until you are!"

There I was, a prisoner in my own house. I gazed out the front windows and I noticed the azaleas. They looked drawn swaying there in the evening breeze. A small shiver ran up my spine. "What if I have some sort of terminal illness or maybe I am going crazy," I thought to myself.

Mother refused to let me get out of bed and I offered little resistance since I didn't feel much like it anyway. She brought me tea and read a books aloud until I fell asleep.

I drifted along in search of the meadow, but I found myself in a maze. Miles and miles of wall-size hedges made passage to the other side impossible. I felt shadows closing in on me. The shadows were not the same as before and took different forms until they combined into one large figure. They became a giant black spider. I ran through the maze, but each route led me to a dead end. I turned and found the spider coming for me. I could see red eyes. I screamed, but nobody came, nobody heard. I began clawing my way through the hedge, my arms bleeding from the thorns.

My mother shook me. "Carolyn, Carolyn! Stop it! Stop it! Can you hear me? It is just a dream, please stop!"

I looked into her troubled eyes and broke into sobs. Later that evening, I could hear my mother and Adam talking hushed tones. I could barely make out their conversation. Sitting there in the dark, fragments filtered through to me:

"Under a lot of stress lately..."

"I just don't understand..."

"Mental breakdown, I don't see how...."

"An Abigal Trenholm phoned, she demanded to speak to her..."

"Some crazy old lady..."

I felt tears form in my eyes. I couldn't understand why I was sick. It was so unfair. Somehow I didn't feel this sickness was something out of a medical book. I resolved to think less of my illness and convinced myself that it was just my frame of mind. I drifted again to sleep, as if I were hypnotized.

I slept peacefully for some time. I vaguely remember faces of people who entered my room. My mother, Adam, Dr. Edwards. They appeared to exist only as memories. Memories to a past I could not longer touch.

I could decipher faint voices at my bedside:

"I've never diagnosed anything like this..."

"Comas can be..."

"....a Mrs. Trenholm died...."

At times, I could see them, but as I reached out, the people I tried so desperately to contact, drifted passed me. It was as though my eyes had vacated my body and were floating around the room.

I continued to drift in this manner until darkness came upon me. I was afraid the spider would come again. Drifting in this manner, I found myself at the edge of a dark lake. Blackened willows bent over the water. The shadows surrounded me. I wanted to scream, but I had no voice. The shadows closed in on me. I noticed they had faces.

I screamed at them, "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

The faces regarded me with expressionless eyes. I wanted to get away. With as much courage as I could gather, I began to run along the black lake. To my horror, I found the shore was slippery and I felt myself sinking into the dreary water. I cried. The lake was full of the shadows, lost souls. Their long, lifeless arms reached for me. This was it. I was on my way to becoming a soul destined to spend eternity in those black, murky waters. The arms groped for me. At one point, I decided not to fight anymore, then I remembered the sunlight, and the happiness I had experienced in another world. With all the strength I could muster, I lunged from the water and grabbed the ledge. Somewhere from within, a desire propelled me up from the abyss and back toward the living.

I awoke from the coma. Adam was asleep beside the hospital bed. He looked sad.

"Adam," I called to him.

"Carolyn! Oh, thank God you are awake!"

I smiled. I had made it after all.

It was only on the way home that I thought of the azaleas. I got out of the car and walked around the corner of the house. They were once again in magnificent bloom.

"Adam!" I exclaimed. "Look at the flowers!"

"Yes, I thought you might be surprised," he answered. "While you were in the coma, I hired a gardener to care for the flowers. He watered them and put the coffee grounds on them just like poor old Mrs. Trenholm wanted."

Adam continued, "You know, I was thinking, maybe we should sell the house, it is just too much. Maybe find a little beach house, you like the coast, right?"

"I thought of it or even a nice townhouse surrounded by concrete and no shrubs. But I don't think so," I answered. "I want to keep the house."

Today, the gardening club meets and I am the guest speaker. The topic is, "Tips for Azaleas." You see, I have come to care for them a great deal and I never intend to neglect them again.