January 15, 1936.
It took much longer to arrive here than I anticipated.
Two days on a train ride and I hadn't gotten much sleep, the usual. So I filled myself with loads of caffeine and sweets.
It didn't help me at all, it just made me much more awake. But I couldn't stop thinking about Lizzy and Jeffrey either, I hope he's holding up well.
He's had drinking problems back in the day and I remember it getting really bad at some point in time, but he's been tame afterwards; I'm not sure about now though.
He might be overdosing on alcohol but I'm hoping my speculations don't turn into facts.
I just got off the train and from the looks of it, it's been pretty hectic since it is a Saturday morning.
Jeffrey's house is a ten minute ride from here so I decided to walk instead of taking a bus. I would still have to wait for an hour long if I did, and I needed the exercise anyway.
Although I didn't inform him earlier that I was paying him a visit. Usually he doesn't mind since I've been doing it ever since they've been together so I shouldn't worry much, right? But people can change as seasons do.
Speaking of seasons, it sure is cold outside. I didn't notice until now, I must've been too distracted. January hasn't always been my favorite month, but now it really isn't.
I finally arrived at his home and sure enough, it looks empty and gloomy, as if there's no source of life in there. But from the sounds of glass shattering, there's still one inside. Jeffrey.
I rushed towards the porch and immediately knocked onto the door, "Jeffrey?" I called out, panicking, "It's me, Connor."
Nothing.
I knocked on the door again but this time it was calmer. "...Jeffrey?" Still no answer, my speculations might be right.
The last thing I'd want to see is Jeffrey lying cold blooded on the wooden floor. But to my dismay, the door opens wide.
"..Jeffrey." He looked miserable, the once happy glint in his eyes was gone. He wasn't crying anymore, but sullen and depressed. Deep circles lined his green eyes, and he looked like he hasn't showered in days. He wasn't coping well.
"Connor.. hi." He said, he then forced a seemingly fake smile and went over to give me a hug. He reeks like a beer brewery and a smoke chimney.
I can't grasp seeing him in this state but I'm still glad that I've been proven wrong. As long as he's still alive, it'll be alright for now.
I hugged him back. "Hey." I responded, "How are you holding up, bud?"
He spread his arms wide, "As you can see, not so great." He says jokingly. "But I think I developed a new habit, that's a start." He leans on the door frame and points inside the house.
My eyes averted to the direction he was pointing at and saw glass shards, plenty of them.
"Oh lord." I mumbled, that was the glass shattering I heard earlier. I observed each one of the broken shards and there was no blood on any of the shards at least, that's good.
But from the looks of it, her passing took its toll on him.
He invited me inside, but as I entered the threshold, immediately everything about this place seemed off.
The living room, the dining room, it all seems so foreign to me now. Was it because it hasn't been regularly cleaned? Or is it because Lizzy's energy isn't here to keep this house alive?
Jeffrey caught me looking around the messy living area, "Sorry about the mess, I wasn't able to get someone to clean it up for me."
I shook my head in disagreement. "I completely understand." I said, "It's just that.. it feels different now." Silence hung in the air.
He didn't respond back but gave me a slight nod in agreement. We stood there in silence, being reminded that Lizzy isn't here anymore and will never be.
"...you want to drink some wine?" He asked, finally. I can sense some relief now. "I was craving for some."
Upon leaving the living area, golden-torch-like scones lined the walls and the same decors that decorated the living area echoed in the halls; which is quite strange.
If I remember correctly, back then Lizzy had given me a full house tour and I don't remember seeing this hallway, ever.
But it's been a while back since that day so they must've done some renovations to the house.
"Did you guys repair the house?" I asked curiously, "I've never seen this side of the house before."
He nodded, "Yeah it's pretty new. We needed more space for storage since we have a lot of furniture lying around."
That makes sense. Jeffrey always loved making furniture and he might've made too much for this house, he was an artisan at work.
"...But truthfully it was only for the wine." he said, dangling a key in his hand and handing it over to me. "If you ever want to drink, I'll give you a spare key."
So we're not heading to the kitchen? Where were we headed to?
I tilt my head in confusion, "So this isn't some secret entry to your kitchen?" He chuckles at my statement. "No, something better," he said. "A wine cellar."
We arrived at a wooden door and he proceeded to open it, revealing a dark stairway.
It screamed vulnerability, screaming and falling off the staircase. A perfect fit for a horror movie scene.
I look at him, "You're not trying to kill me are you?" He shrugs, "Find out yourself, detective."
We walked down the staircase and almost immediately, a disturbing stench hit me.
For some reason, it smelled familiar to me, too familiar.
Was it mom's failed attempt at aging beef? No, this was worse than that. This is the literal scent of what "aged beef" is—rotten meat.
"How is this any better than a secret entry? It stinks in here." I scrunch my nose.
He gave me a joyous smile, "It'll help you smell and taste wine better, a palate cleanser." I hope it will, or all of this smelling wouldn't be worth it.
I started seeing fluorescent lights peeking through another wooden door, that must mean we've arrived.
He opens the wooden door and the rotten stench was now mixed in with the fruity scent coming from the wine-filled barrels.
Just like wood thrown in an open fire, my curiosity grew larger. Where was that scent coming from?
He walks over a cabinet filled with wine glasses and takes two in his hands.
We spent the next few hours drinking and reminiscing about old memories. I forgot how nice it was talking with Jeffrey, I should visit more often.
But then I noticed a door barricaded by multiple barrels in front of it. "What's inside there?" I asked.
He stopped spinning his wine glass and met my eyes, boring into them like he was communicating a secret message . "...What do you mean?"
I stayed silent, trying to find words to say out loud. "The...door." I muttered. I felt fear run over me, but me scared of Jeffrey? What kind of joke is that?
Calmly, his fingers touched his forehead and he leaned forward. "More wine and furniture." He said, "Nothing interesting."
"I.. see." My grip tightened around the wine glass. He's different now.
