22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Haunted Cellar
RAFA
The next morning, he immediately called Sal. After a few rings, she picked up.
“Hello, my love,” he said.
“Hey, gwapo1,” she responded. He could hear her smiling.
“I don’t know if I ever told you, but I prefer phone calls over emails and video calls.”
“I didn’t know that,” she sighed. Her voice sounded lush and soft on the telephone. This was why he loved phone calls better; it was more intimate and he got to focus on only one point of stimulus—her voice. It made him feel closer to her.
“I like the way your voice sounds on the phone,” he whispered.
“Yours too,” she responded. “Are you at the cottage?”
“No, I’m at Medina. Achi and I are going to Cedarthorne today. We plan on leaving after breakfast.”
“Rafa, I’m grateful, but you really don’t have to. What if something bad happens?”
“You always worry that something bad will happen, but it won’t. Besides, you’re well worth going against any trouble for, Salome Poe.” His cheeks warmed as he said it, and he grinned.
Sal gave a soft chuckle.
“And again, finally, you’ve found a place for your art exhibit,” he said, changing the subject. “Can’t seem to get over that.”
“It’ll be an art show now, not an exhibit,” she replied, sounding livelier.
“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”
They caught up during the rest of the call until they had to say their I-love-yous and goodbyes as Rafa started his day, and Sal ended hers.
***
The walking path along Cedarthorne Estate had no cellular signal, and his sister seemed agitated by it.
“You owe me. I swear it.” Aveline grimaced while trekking in her old hiking shoes. For the terrain around Cedarthorne, one simply needed shoes with good traction and comfortable clothes, but Aveline looked like she was about to hike up a mountain.
“Achi,” Rafa breathed as they walked a beaten path and drew further and further away from the parked car, “…you really need to lighten up.”
Aveline continued to walk ahead. “I don’t know why I agreed to relive a childhood trauma for this.”
“I’m your favorite brother, admit it.” He chuckled.
“Arthur is my favorite brother,” she snapped.
Rafa just laughed in response.
Aveline exhaled. “We’re not far now. Cedarthorne Estate stretches only to there.” Aveline pointed to a small perimeter fence. “We’re going the opposite direction. So we’re not trespassing.” Aveline turned to look at the path they had just taken.
Everything in the black books suggested there was something unknown hidden deep in St. Stephenshire.
Rafa skimmed through one of them last night and remembered a name that now seemed relevant as he walked through the forested path in search of the alleged haunted cellar.
Ambrosine Aster. She was among the first few settlers in St. Stephenshire whom the people accused of witchcraft.
She had lived near Cedarthorne, and so he wondered how connected she was to the weird occurrences there.
The black books were supposed to be transcriptions of the important events that shaped the town into what it was, but he couldn’t determine if what he read was more fiction than fact.
He read in the books a line that said: The emerald lake holds qualities that many wished to channel.
The early settlers camped near the lakeshore—some for healing, others to commune with spirits…
Upon reading this, he closed his eyes in disbelief, and subsequently, the book itself.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed that an hour had passed before Aveline let out a soft gasp. “It’s still here…” she exhaled, as though the wind had trouble escaping her lungs.
“Here?” Rafa stared ahead, eyes fixed on a patch of overgrown vines on a mound of land. “It looks like a huge anthill,” he whispered.
“That is no anthill,” Aveline responded.
Rafa walked over slowly, and in the afternoon light, the cellar somehow emerged.
It reminded Rafa of an abstract painting that looked confusing from afar, but as you drew closer, the composition suddenly made more sense.
A glint of light flickered through the vines as he squinted.
It came from a silver padlock, which was the only thing that seemed to poke out of the thick layer of interwoven vines and chains.
“Rafa…” Aveline tentatively called to him as he got closer. But he didn’t stop.
Carefully, he came close enough to hold the large silver padlock. Although it was tarnished an inscription was engraved on the lock. He flipped it to read: A.A.
His eyes widened slightly, and as though in a trance, he said the name that first came to mind: “Ambrosine Aster.”
No sooner had he said it than the sky became overcast. He looked up, and even though it was mid-afternoon, in an instant it became dark; the trees loomed over them, and a powerful gust of wind passed through. It was so sudden and intense; he tumbled over his own feet.
“Rafa! Let’s go back!” he heard Aveline calling.
But everything happened so fast, and before he could turn to his sister or assess the situation, he heard a click—the padlock opened, and the vines and chains that were wrapped tightly over the cellar door fell to his feet.
His heart raced when he turned to Aveline.
The wind howled and picked up. Rafa panicked, thinking they were in the middle of a storm.
The cellar door opened just then, revealing a stairway leading to a dark abyss.
Instinctively, Rafa ran to Aveline and pulled her toward the cellar. “Achi, let’s go inside!” he yelled over the howling wind.
Aveline dug in her heels and pulled away. “Are you fucking insane?” she screamed. Her tightly bound ponytail floated above her head like black tentacles swirling in the air as the wind picked up.
“If this is a tornado, we need to get below ground!” He pointed to the cellar, its doors violently opening and closing in the wind.
Aveline paused only for a second. She gave him a look, zipped up her jacket, and ran with him to the cellar with her hand in his.
They struggled to close it. Rafa grabbed a thick tree branch from the ground and locked them inside against the vigorous winds.
The wind hit the cellar door riotously, but it stayed firmly shut; and then they were in total darkness.
It smelled of mildew and wet grass. There was nothing but the sound of the howling wind and their heaving breaths as they collected themselves in the dark. Moments later, Aveline sounded like she was rummaging through her bag and pulled out a flashlight.
“Ever the Girl Scout.” Rafa let out a ghost of a smile as his sister turned on the light.
Aveline raised a brow and pointed the light down the stairs that led further into the blackness, escaping the beam of the flashlight. “This is not a regular cellar…” she said breathlessly. “This looks like a stairway to a basement or a chamber…”
They both eyed each other, knowing what they were about to do next. Their choices were to remain put and hope for help, or to search for a way out, provided such a path existed. They both knew each other well enough to surmise that they’d try to find a way out.
Aveline took a deep breath and looked her brother squarely in the eye. “If we survive this—”
“I know. I owe you,” Rafa quipped as Aveline handed him an unopened bottle of water from her backpack. “And we will survive this,” he responded.
Aveline flashed him a confident grin as if saying, I know we will.
So down the dark stairs they went.
***
Several thoughts cross one’s mind when descending into a bottomless cellar.
Questions like: Is this how I’m going to die?
Will they ever find my body? Will my life flash before my very eyes?
No matter the questions that circled in Rafa’s mind, he always came back to the one that scared him the most: What about Sal?
He was only here because of her; he wanted so badly to help her, and to show her that even if he couldn’t be there or provide for her, he would still help her achieve her goals.
But would he even survive this? There was nothing crueler than love being taken away before it blossomed.
He felt panicked at the thought; was that going to happen to him too?
He gritted his teeth and squared his jaw in resolution—no.
This would not be their end. He would not leave Sal alone in the world, or let his mother go through the loss of a child.
God knew they’d both been through enough.
A little later, Aveline came to a complete stop.
Rafa squinted and turned on his phone’s flashlight.
There was a wooden door at the end of the stairs.
Unlike the cellar door, the wood had already softened with rot, so it took little effort for them to open it, letting it collapse on its own hinges.
Trudging past the dilapidated door led to a dark, enclosed space.
The pungent smell of herbs and musk came at them with so much force that they covered half their faces.
“That’s a decade’s worth of pent-up herbs for you.” Aveline coughed.
Rafa would have answered, but he was too busy choking.
He fumbled in the dark, trying to make sense of what they had just stumbled into, and trudged aimlessly, pointing his only light source to see that they were in a chamber of sorts that looked like it was lived in long ago.
Rafa was about to turn back, because even he knew the limits of his ambition.
But he shone his light at a table at the far end, and as luck would have it, he found a lantern with a candle that had not burned completely.
“Achi, do you have a lighter with you?” he called out as he grabbed the little ray of hope they had in that dark tomb.
Aveline produced a small lighter. Rafa lit the lantern up, and soon he saw another lantern, and another, and after lighting them all, the room came to life.
“W-what is this place?” Aveline said, eyes wide.
“I don’t know.” Rafa exhaled in awe.