Chapter Two [The Painted Face]

Strange things start to happen at the house of Lily's grandparents, and she finds herself being blamed for them. And what is with the trunk of her father's things in the attic?

Chapter Two

The Painted Face

 

 

 

 

Lily woke up and realized right away that she’d slept in far too late. Staring at the hands of the clock on the wall, she saw that it was already past noon, though looking out the window you couldn’t tell. Grey clouds, grey sky, the rain still going pat-pat-pat agains the window.

 

She climbed out of bed slowly, feet touching the hardwood floor. She pulled them up right away! They were cold as ice. She stepped off hesitantly, tiptoeing her way to her mom’s dresser, pulling out two socks and pulling them on her feet. Then she slowly made her way down the stairs.

 

“Well, I’ve got to go to the market some time today, Robert,” said Grammy, her voice carrying to Lily before she even reached the bottom of the stairs. Lily could detect the faint scent of coffee and cigarette smoke in the air, which she’d already begun to connect with her grandpa.

 

“I’ll go out and start the car when I’m done with my coffee, honey,” Grandpa replied. Lily paused outside the entrance to the kitchen, listening to them talk for just a moment longer. Sure, she was ‘dropping eaves’ like Mom used to say, but who could blame her? She wouldn’t have to if grown-ups just talked the same when she was around as they did when she wasn’t. At ten years old she’d already caught on to the unfairness of how adults treat kids. They all acted as if you were still a baby and couldn’t possibly understand them.

 

“Just be careful. I don’t want you slipping or something while you turn the crank on that auto. One of these days someone will make it so you can do all that from inside the vehicle,” Grammy said. Her grandpa chuckled lightly.

 

“Yeah, one of these days…” he said in return. Finally Lily stepped into the kitchen, the two grown-ups looking up at her as she entered the room. Grammy didn’t look as sad as she had the night before, though Lily could tell she’d been crying again.

 

“There you are. I was wondering if you’d ever wake up. I made breakfast, but I put the plate in the icebox for you. Biscuits and gravy. I’ll heat the gravy up real quick. Me and your Grandpa are about to head to the Market. Did you want to want to go with?” Grammy asked, quickly walking her way over to the fridge and starting on her food. Lily sat down at the chair opposite her Grandpa, who was drinking a cup of coffee and reading through the last few pages of his paper with a lit cigarette. He had a pair of square reading glasses on and looked deep in thought, the ash on the end of his cigarette close to falling off from neglect.

 

“What are you going into Market for?” Lily asked.

 

“Oh, just need to run some errands,” her Grammy replied as she began heating up a pot of gravy over the stove. Errands meant boring adult stuff, something else she’d learned from grown-ups a long time ago. She shook her head and looked down at her feet.

 

“No, I think I’ll stay,” she said quickly. The socks were mix-matched and both of them way too big for her feet, hanging off at the toes. They made her think of elf shoes, the ones you saw all the time in storybooks. She pulled them up high on her ankles. One was green and the other was striped red and white. They looked nothing like the socks her mother usually wore, which were always black. Lily wondered what other things her mother had left here that she didn’t use once she became a grown-up. She remembered the closet she’d thought about looking through last night. But it didn’t seem she’d get a chance to look at it right now. Not with the look on her grandmother’s face when she said she wanted to stay.

 

“I think that…” Grammy started, worry in her eyes. She stopped talking with Grandpa gave her a look from over his newspaper. It was a slight, almost unnoticeable shake of the head. Grammy let out a soft sigh and Lily got the feeling that they’d been talking about her while she’d been asleep. Whatever it had been about, her grandmother simply covered up her words with a smile. “I think that’s perfectly fine.”

 

Grammy sat a plate down in front of Lily and smiled. “Well, it shouldn’t be too long. You sure you’ll be alright here by yourself?” She asked. Lily nodded, but didn’t say anything as she bit into a forkful of the biscuits and gravy. Lily would be okay. She already knew what she would do once they left. She’d set her mind on searching through the closet in her mom’s old room and even though she didn’t think Grammy would mind, she wanted to be alone when she did it.

 

Grandpa stomped out his cigarette and stood up, walking to the door and staring out into the rain. He grumbled something under his breath about having to crank the car, and then rushed out into the weather. Lily looked up as Grammy touched the top of her head.

 

“Okay, be safe. We’ll be back in no time.” And then she planted a kiss on her forehead and turned as Grandpa called from outside. Grammy said ‘bye’ one more time and then rushed out into the rain, as well, leaving Lily all alone in the house.

 

            She stared out the kitchen window as the sleek black automobile pulled away into the street and drove off. Then right away she dropped her fork and stood up, rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stopped here and there to look at photos on the wall. A lot of them were of her Mom, when she’d been younger. All the way up the stairs they seemed to make a path through her Mom’s entire life, from baby pictures to ones of her when she was Lily’s age. They kind of looked alike, except in the hair. Where her Mom and Grammy both had brown hair, Lily had perfect blonde curls. But all three of them shared the same bright green eyes and long lashes.

 

            Finally Lily made it back to her Mom’s room. It looked different during the day than it had last night. The bright green paint on the walls made the white of the comforter and dresser stand out more than it usually would. But she skipped over these details, moving straight to the closed closet door. Her hand held onto the doorknob, hesitating for just a moment. For some reason she felt bad, as if she were searching through her Mom’s purse when she wasn’t supposed to. But she pushed away the feeling and turned the doorknob, swinging it open to reveal the closet behind.

 

The empty closet.

 

Disappointment flooded through her. The closet was only a large enough for one person to stand in and was completely bare. No clothes, no boxes, no collection of her Mom’s paintings or anything. Lily realized that she must have taken all of these things with her when she moved out. But still she was determined to find something.

 

            She stepped into the closet and looked around. She stood on her tippy-toes, craning her neck to see on top of the shelf. Nothing. She shook her head in defeat. Then suddenly shrieked as something brushed against her head. She jumped back, rubbing her hands across her head and expecting a spider to fall off. But there was no spider, and she saw right away what had caused her panic. A small string was dangling down from the ceiling.

 

            She stepped back into the closet and looked up. Right above her head was a square outline in the ceiling, the string stuck right at the edge of it. Lily bit her lip, looking behind her. Then she reached up, grabbed hold of the string, and pulled down hard.

 

            With a loud BANG the trapdoor flew open and a ladder came crashing down, just after she jumped out of the way. Lily stared at it long and hard. Her grandparents were going to be gone for a while, so its not like she would get in any trouble. But still she looked behind her to make sure she was alone. Confirming what she already knew, Lily started her climb.

 

            The ladder’s stairs were covered in dust, but she just wiped it off on her shirt and kept going. Reaching the top she peeked her head through first. The room wasn’t dark like she’d expected. Light filled it from a window at the very end, catching little pieces of dust in the air like a thousand tiny fairies floating around the room. She climbed up all the way and looked around.

 

            The attic was full of things. She stepped carefully over the floor, the wood creaking loudly beneath her socks, which were already turning black from the dirt. She ran her hand across an old dresser and instantly wiped the dust off on her skirt. She walked up and stood in front of one of those weird statues with no arms or head that people put clothes on, touching it on the chest and glancing once more around the room.

 

            Most of the things were covered in old sheets, making it appear as if dozens of oddly shaped ghosts had taken it upon themselves to hide in the attic. In the corner a large pile of boxes and books were the only thing left unclothed. She walked over to it, picking up one of the books and blowing off the dust. She opened it. It was an old photo album, black and white versions of her mom and grand parents smiling up at her. She sat the book down and picked up another. Slowly she began to clear away the pile, revealing what was hidden underneath. Buried beneath the books and piles of old newspapers like treasure beneath the sand was an old wooden trunk. Lily knelt down in front of it, not caring that her knees would get dirty. There was a latch on it as if it had once had a lock, but today there was nothing keeping her from opening it. Carved into the front of it were three large letters.

 

ALG

 

It took her a moment, but then she remembered why she recognized the letters. They were her father’s initials. Adam L Groves. Why was her father’s trunk in her Mom’s old attic? Feeling a sudden rush of nervous excitement Lily lifted the latch and opened the trunk.

 

            Inside it was an assortment of pictures, clothes, boxes and other little things. She picked up a pair of square reading glasses, which she knew belonged to her father. He had another pair just like them back at the house. Absentmindedly, she placed the glasses on her face and they slipped right to the end of her nose. She pulled out a few of the photos. Some of them she’d seen before, either at their house or on the walls in this one. She placed these carefully to the side, pulling out a grey knit hat. This had been her Mom’s. Mom had always loved hats. And even though it too was a bit too big, she fit it over her head and reached for the next object. Nestled at the bottom of the trunk, hidden beneath the photos and the clothes was a little book.

 

            It was small for a book, but thicker than any of the ones she was used to seeing. The cover and binding were dark red, except for in the center were part of the leather cover had been ripped off to reveal the blank, hard front of the book. Curiosity overwhelmed her and she sat down, opening it to the first page.

 

            At first she thought she was reading it wrong. None of the words made sense. But she looked at it again over the glasses and the words remained the same. The whole book was written in a language different than the one she knew how to read, with odd sounding words and phrases. She focused on the first part, trying to sound the words out loud.

 

            “Gatu eh-na-fo-tan-du,” She said out loud. The room was silent and Lily let out a defeated sigh. Maybe it was a secret language. Either way, she didn’t understand it and quickly dropped the book back in the trunk. She stood up, taking off the glasses and the hat and placing them carefully where they belonged. Then, decidedly done with her adventure, she closed the trunk and left the attic.

 

            Lily attempted to close the trapdoor, but since it was a lot harder to put the ladder back up then it had been to pull down, she settled on shutting the closet door. Then she grudgingly made her way back downstairs. The biscuits and gravy were cold, but not wanting Grammy to think she didn’t like the food, she rushed to the trashcan and dumped it, covering it up with more trash.

 

            For the next hour she simply sat around in the kitchen, watching the rain outside until the auto pulled into the driveway and came to a sputtering stop. Her grandparents came in, both of them carrying arms full of stuff. Amongst the stuff were a large box and a bunch of empty canvases. The kind that her Mom must have painted on.

 

            “I got you something, Lily,” her grandmother said, setting the painting supplies on the table. She opened the box to reveal brushes and little bottles of different colored paint.

 

            “Your mother used to paint. Did you know that? Quite the artist, so we figured you might have the same talent,” her grandfather explained. Lily ran her hand across the different sized brushes. She didn’t know what to say.

 

            “I…thank you. I saw that thing in the corner of my Mom’s room,” Lily said, excitedly. Grammy smiled down at her and nodded.

 

            “Yes, her easel,” she said, still smiling. Lily committed the word to memory. “Here, I’ll go put these upstairs for you.” Her grandmother quickly began picking up the supplies. Suddenly Lily remembered the trapdoor. If her grandmother opened it, they’d know she’d been up there and would probably tell her she couldn’t do it anymore! Lily jumped to her feet, eyes wide.

 

            “Wait! Umm…I left the room a mess, let me go pick up first,” she stammered. And before they could say anything she rushed out of the room and up the stairs. She burst into her bedroom and opened the closet door. Once again she tried to push the ladder up and close the door. But she was too short. She looked around the room, spotting the chair in front of the ‘easel’ and dragged it over to the closet, standing up on it and pushing the ladder up. The trapdoor shut tightly and Lily closed the closet door, pushing the chair back into place just as her grandmother stepped in. Right away Lily plopped down in the chair, right in front of the easel.

 

            Lily looked over at her grandma, who had paused just as she entered the room. She was looking at Lily with a strange look on her face.

 

            “Is something wrong, Grammy?” Lily asked. Her grandmother seemed to snap out of a daydream, because she quickly threw up a smile and shook her head.

 

            “Nothing at all. I was just reminded of your mother for a moment there,” she said, her smile faltering for just a moment. There was silence. Grammy cleared her throat and walked over to the easel, setting one of the canvases up on it and placing the other three to the side. She put the box of art supplies on the table next to her and looked at her.

 

            “Well, I’m going to make supper. I’ll call for you when it’s ready. Don’t make a mess.” And with that her grandmother left, closing the door behind her. Lily sat in the chair, staring at the canvas. She reached for the small box, opening it and looking over all the colors and brushes. For the longest time she just sat there, trying to think of something to paint. Finally, she picked up some of the colors and the paintbrush and started. She painted her old house. The big green front door with the windows in it. She even painted the figure of a girl in the window of where her room used to be and her bike in the front yard where she always left it, even though her dad told her all the time to put it inside.

 

            Concentrated as she was on her painting, she completely lost track of time, until she heard her grandma call for her that supper was ready. Lily blinked, looking at the clock. It had been hours! She stood up, setting the brushes down on the table and closing the bottles of paint before making her way down for supper.

 

            It was a stew, full of potatoes and carrots and peas and little chunks of beef. Just the smell of it sent Lily’s mouth watering. When she sat down at the kitchen table, her bowl was already there waiting for her.

 

            “Have you been painting this whole time?” Her grandmother asked. Lily nodded her head, swallowing the spoonful of stew that had already reached her mouth.

 

            “Yeah, I didn’t realize how long it had been,” she said right away. Her grandfather looked up from his food and smiled.

 

            “Well, we should go take a look at it when supper’s done,” he replied. Lily thought of the painting, hoping that it was as good as some of the stuff her Mom had painted. Of course, she’d never really painted before, so it was bound to not be that great. She just hoped that they didn’t decide she hadn’t inherited her mother’s talent, after all.

 

            For the entire supper she was silent in anticipation. When her spoon finally hit the bottom of her bowl, she’d already worked herself up to nervous worry. It was a few more minutes before her grandparents finished their food, and when the dishes were set in the sink, they were already making their way up to the room.

 

            “Don’t look so nervous, sweetie, I’m sure you did wonderful,” her grandmother said, which just made Lily more worried about what they would think when they saw it. The two of them waited outside the door until she caught up. Then offering her a warm smile, Grammy opened the door and stepped into the room.

 

            “Oh my goodness!” Her grandmother exclaimed. Lily stepped into the room right after her and almost fell over in shock. Splattered all across the room like a giant firework of color was paint. It had reached the walls, the ceiling, and the dresser. Green, yellow, red, blue, purple, and every color in between.  Lily’s mouth hung open wordlessly as her grandparents spun around to look at her.

 

            “What were you thinking?” Her grandpa asked, his voice sharp with accusation. Lily tried to speak. When she’d left she’d put all the bottles of paint back in the box and closed the lid. Now they lay amidst pools of paint all over the floor.

 

            “I…it wasn’t like this when I left, I swear!” She said, shaking her head in disbelief. Lily noticed a spot on the wall where it looked like someone had painted a large smiling and two big eyes. The face seemed to grin at her mischievously. However, untouched by the paint, still in its place on the easel, was her painting of her old house, just like she had left it.

 

            Up to this point Grammy had yet to say a word. She stared around the room with a look of complete horror on her face and Lily could see, to her dismay, that tears had begun to well up in her eyes. Lily felt an uncontrollable tide of guilt wash over her, despite the fact that she knew she had not actually done this.

 

            “I…it wasn’t…” Lily began, feeling tears begin to well up in her own eyes. Grammy just stared forward at the room while her husband’s accusing eyes bore into Lily. She knew that no matter what she said they wouldn’t believe her. After all, they were the only ones in this house. Who else could have done this? Lily knew that it wasn’t her fault, but she also knew that there was no way to explain her way out of this. Even she was still trying to figure it out. Finally her grandmother spoke.

 

            “Lily…” she whispered, her voice dry and low, eyes still staring around at the paint covered room. “…go downstairs and do the dishes.” Lily opened her mouth to speak. To defend herself. But she gave up before she began, casting tear filled eyes from one grandparent to the other. Then she turned and ran out of the room and down the stairs. She turned the facet on, the water spilling out into the sink of dishes and drowning out the sound of her tears.

 

She was shaking terribly. But she bit back the sobs and swallowed the tears, wiping away at her eyes. She knew this wasn’t her fault. She didn’t need to be crying because she hadn’t done anything wrong! She didn’t know who had made that mess, but she was determined to find out and when she did her grandparents would apologize and say they were sorry for not believing her.

 

With that idea firmly set in her mind she began doing the dishes. She scrubbed vigorously at the pot used to cook the stew. Several minutes later her grandparents came downstairs, carrying her paint covered blankets and throwing them into a large hamper by the backdoor. Her grandfather went to a closet in the living room and pulled out new blankets, carrying them upstairs. Neither of them said a word to her. And when she finally finished the dishes, turning off the light over the window, she made her way back up the stairs. Their bedroom door was closed tight and Lily walked past it as silently as she could.

 

In her mother’s old room most of the paint had been cleaned up from the floor. But it still decorated the dresser and the walls. The lighthouse on her bedside table cast its orange light around the room, making the paint look menacing and evil, like shadows dancing unnaturally over everything. The new blanket sat in a neatly folded pile at the foot of her bed. She unfolded it and climbed in, tired from everything the day had brought. On her first day here she’d already managed to make her grandparents hate her. Shaking once more she pulled the blankets tight around her and turned onto her side. From the corner of the room the newly painted face grinned at her. She closed her eyes, and just before she fell asleep, she could have sworn she heard it laugh…

Author's Note

I've had this up before, but I did it again, as an edited version. This one's edits are a bit smaller, but I think still very important. As always, I'm open to criticism. ^^ I should have the third chapter up by the end of the week, at least.

Reviews

[Sacha Davison]

First paragraph, last line - "against" not "agains"
7th paragraph, 3rd line - "Did you want to want to go with?" double type. "come" instead of "go" ?
7th from the bottom 2nd line - "large smiling and two big eyes" large smiling what?

What can I say? I'm absolutely in love with this book. Send me a read request to every chapter you post please and thanks! I envy your ability, I truly hope one day to have such capabilities. The imagery is flawless. The era of the story seems like it would be challenging to stay true to, but you seem to pull it off. Truly a great piece of literature, do keep me informed. This is the kind of writing that gets turned into major motion pictures.

[MachinaWriter]

Thanks, man, I'm glad you enjoyed it. And thanks for pointing out those typos and grammar issues, you've got a good eye ^^ I still feel I have room to grow as a writer, but it doesn't keep me from continuing to write. I'm just eager to see where I'm at in a few more years. At only 20, I still have a lot to learn as far as writing goes. There's people who have been doing this for far longer than I.

[Sacha Davison]

You're preaching to choir man. There is always room to grow as a writer, regardless of age! Keep up the great work!

[Anonymous Girl]

Scary! The last part I swear is actually scary!!!
But I like the story and would love to see where it is going ^^
Do let me know when next chapter is up ^^