The Red Door
by Amanda LaFevers
A short story
Frigid air gradually began to fill the massive front parlor as the sunlight dipped behind the looming hills surrounding the antebellum house. She stared at the emerald and diamond gold ring in the Victorian silver box. Marie hadn’t set foot in the aging house in nearly fifteen years. Opportunities arose for her to go back, however she luckily had more important functions to attend so had avoided visiting her frightfully strange childhood home and the elderly inhabitant, her great Uncle Jasper.
Her Meemaw Ruby had passed away within two months after her precious Momma died when Marie was eleven. Momma’s condition was incurable, which meant Meemaw had been caregiver for Marie as well as for Momma. Two days before her graduation from law school, the family’s lawyer came to her apartment with the documents in hand. She had inherited the unwanted plantation and the haunting memories that had come with it. Uncle Jasper had been discovered dead in the cellar by the aging groundskeeper, Ol’ Leroy.
* * * *
“It wun’t a priddy site Miss Marie. He done fell down dem sta’us mighty hard, cuz he look like he’d done broke his neck an ‘is leg. He jus had da awfless look on ‘is face too, Miss. Didn’t wanna check in that cellar needa, you know? That be an evil place down dere. You best not go down dere less you got to Miss Marie; and even den, don’t go down dere lone.”
“Thank you, Leroy. I’m glad you were here and that Uncle Jasper had someone here to talk to.”
“Ah Miss Marie, I wish’d I coudda done mo wid ‘im. The pass few ye’us, he been goin’ a bit crazy, ya know? He drank mos eva night and spen mos days jus talkin’ to hisself. He been standin’ in front dat red cellar do’ jus a hollerin’ at it and a cursin’ at it som’in awful! Anyway, Miss Marie, I got cha room all clean and nice soz you can stay for a spell. I’ll be out back in my house so jus’ holla if you need me.”
Her Momma had talked to her often about the aspirations she had for her and insisted that she go to private school as soon as she could. Momma always wore the emarald and diamond ring. It didn’t come off till the day she passed away. Meemaw had taken it off and thrown it in the fireplace as she wailed and cried. That had been the last she saw of the ring until now. She cautiously went into her Momma’s old room. The ring stared at her from the vanity table in the corner as if it had been patiently waiting for her since she left the home all those years ago.
Marie slowly moved toward it, unsure if it was real.....or if it was entirely safe. She remembered that one night, when her Momma said to her. “Don’t you eva put this ring on, Sweetie! I got to wear it and can’t eva take it off. Promise me, Sweetie, promise me!” she would plead until Marie convinced her that she wouldn’t ever dream of it.
* * * *
The summer afternoons in the muggy Louisiana Mississippi Valley could be dreadfully tiring and slow for a young girl with no playmates. Sometimes she would help Meemaw cook or follow Ol’ Leroy around like a blabbering shadow asking endless questions, but her guilty pleasure would be going to the old run-down shacks near the fields to pretend play with her imaginary friends. Uncle Jasper warned her several times not to go there and referred to them as the "ole slave quarters", but she hadn’t understood what he meant. All she knew was that she could be alone and play pretend house and sometimes, she would find an old tarnished pot or spoon underneath one of the front porches which would give her endless hours of play.
