Part 15

        I started backing my way out of the entryway, thinking I'd take a walk around the house, and see if there were any side or back doors, that might be less formidable to wiggle loose. The lock on this one looked as un-corroded as the door knocker and handle, and I'd never actually tried to pick a lock before. My camera bumped heavily against my side as I stumbled on a crumbling step---
        My camera! Why the hell hadn't I been taking pictures?? I'd been so wrapped up in what I was seeing that I totally forgot! Though really, it was just as well - I only had a roll and a half left, I'd have to be much more stingy about taking shots than I had been in the habit of lately. That knocker was too pretty, but the light in the entryway was incredibly dim, I'd have to try a little later, when the sunlight was at a lower angle, maybe then some would spill in. (I knew from experience that using a flash would only destroy the balance of light and shadow - I hadn't even bothered to bring it with me that day, not thinking I would need it anyway.) I slowly made my way back through the wisteria, taking a few pictures when I spotted something especially nice. I tried taking one through the tunnel, looking down through it toward the light at the end, but I wasn't sure the heavy atmosphere would show the way I wanted it to. It was too bad I couldn't photograph the scent...
        I couldn't walk as close as I wanted to the outside of the house, it was too overgrown. The gardens really had been incredibly lavish, once upon a time, and what had once been lush had turned into a jungle over the decades (or century?) since the house had been let go. The flowers on what I presumed were fruit trees were just beginning to fade, and there were splashes of color among the plants on the ground, but mostly, it was just green absolutely everywhere. I could hardly see the walls of the house in places, let alone get near it...
        I started on the side with the giant windows - which really were stained glass, I'd been right. It was hard to make out the designs on them, with the vines grown up everywhere, but it looked like they were incredibly detailed, really finely done. I tried pushing up through the plant life to see inside the windows, but no luck, there were all sorts of vines that had spread not only on the walls, but also entangled themselves in the other plants growing around the house, which made it pretty much impossible to walk through. That, and some of the vines were rose vines, which I really didn't want to tangle with.
        Past the large windows, there was a small patio off the back of the house, with an archway leading into the outdoor room. The archway was large enough that the vines hadn't completely claimed it, so I stepped through. It was freezing here, too, hidden from the sunlight. It smelled damp and... not quite musty, but definitely a bit moldy, the air felt almost clammy here. Plants pushed their way in under the roof, so it was hard to make out what had bordered this area from the outdoors besides the extent of the roof. There were some pots scattered around, and a small table with gracefully curved iron legs. Two matching chairs were pulled up to it, and I circled these for a few minutes, trying to find an interesting composition that still showed off the intricacy of the ironwork. Everything here had such detail to it, whoever had lived here had an amazingly artistic eye.
        I looked to the wall the patio shared with the house...and saw a door. This was a lighter one than the front, designed with the same detailed ironwork as the table and chairs. But again, when I tried the handle, it refused to budge. It wasn't exactly a screen door, it wasn't as formidable as the massive front door but it was still ironwork, and fairly heavy iron at that. Behind it was a solid wood door, presumably due to the cold winters here more than aesthetics (though I could still see a border of carvings running around the edges, less elaborate than those on the front door). I tried slipping my hand between the curving lines of iron, to reach the handle on the wood door, but without success. There were windows to either side of the door, but they too looked solid, the glass unbroken and the metal frames still set firmly in place.
        I exited the patio through an arch on the opposite side I'd entered it from, intending to follow a path of marble slabs set in the ground. Unfortunately, the path seemed to have wound through a garden, and thus was nearly impassable now. It must have been a rose garden, there were thorns absolutely everywhere I looked, and I sighed heavily in frustration. I'd have to wear more durable clothing on the next trip, jeans with fewer holes and maybe even a long-sleeved shirt, I'd be torn to pieces in there! Instead, I tried the third exit from the patio, which led away from the house. There seemed to have been a bit of an open space here, where now there was nothing more intimidating than field grass. A few sapling cherry trees were scattered around in the grass, and looking around, I could see their parents making almost a perfect circle around the grassy area. This spot would have been stunning just a few weeks before, with the trees all in bloom... Walking through this way, I was able to make my way around the rose garden, circling wide of the house, but at least able to see more of it now. The room with the large windows stretched much farther back than I had thought, though at the far end the large windows gave way to smaller windows, the interior seeming to become split into two floors, like the other side of the house. I couldn't get close enough to look in any of them until I had circled around almost to the very back corner of the house.
        Farther up the wall, back in the direction that I'd come, the way was blocked by a huge tree that had fallen - it hadn't touched the house, but had come perilously close to doing so. I was beginning to feel like the house really was enchanted, somehow, could anything touch it? My fingertips tingled a bit, where I had earlier touched the front door, and I grinned wryly at myself. Magic, right. I should eat the rest of my lunch, my brain must be out of nutrients to run on. At the thought of food, of course, my stomach growled insistently. I laughed, and looked around for a good spot to sit. There was a stone bench a little ways off, so I struck out toward that, though it led a little farther from the house. Fortunately, no more roses barred my way, and I actually found a few scraps of the marble pathway again. The bench was made of some warmer colored stone, almost a red-orange, and was - predictably - covered in ornate little traceries, though these looked more geometric than those I'd seen so far. It had a Greek sort of feel to it more than anything. It was clear of debris, so I sat down, and set my bag and camera beside me. I dug out the sandwich, keeping it inside its plastic bag so my now-grimy hands wouldn't touch what I was eating, and took a few more swigs from a water bottle. The sun wasn't so nearly overhead any more, it was probably mid-afternoon now. I made the mistake of thinking about the walk back, and groaned aloud. I shouldn't stay here much longer, I had a long way to go... I had a general idea of where I was in relation to the Mayhew's, and I knew I probably wasn't more than a mile or two away, but... it felt like I was in a completely different world here, it was so quiet and detached from the rest of the world. There was such a strange atmosphere here, it felt... oh, "haunted" kept coming to mind, no matter how many times I pushed it away. It did feel haunted, but in a sweet, melancholy, beautiful sort of way. Like reading a sad love story, it was a poignant, beautiful pain.
        I shook my head violently, laughing. I could really work my thoughts into weird states when I was alone too long. I stood up and stretched, spreading my arms wide and breathing deeply. The air was fresher here, a bit of a breeze slipping in among the trees, carrying hints of fragrance from...some flower or another, I had no idea. I looked around, trying to find a way to continue around the house. Once I'd done that, I'd head back to the Mayhew's, and come back another day - with more film. And maybe a paper clip or something. Caleb seemed like exactly the kind of kid who'd know how to pick locks, I'd see if he had any ideas.
        I was able to follow the marble path most of the way to the back of the house, which was much narrower than the front - it only extended back from the width of the large-windowed room, the tower and the other side only came back far enough for there to be a hall running through them and (normal-sized) rooms on either side. The house was basically a large "L", with the tower marking the corner. There was no door at the very back of the house, just windows, but coming around the corner I could see a small door at the end of the long wall closest to me. I pushed past vast amounts of fragrant leaves - an herb garden? - and reached the wood door, which looked simpler than the others, probably a servant's entrance, into the kitchen or something. But again, it was locked, so I continued picking my way along the wall, as close to the house as I could manage. The windows here were as sturdy as the rest, and if there was a door leading down into a cellar or anything, I didn't see it. (It might well have been hidden beneath all the plants, though.) The vines weren't quite as pervasive on this side, I figured because it was a bit shadier here.