Twin Eidolons - Chapter 1

  My story begins like all stories of this nature. In a new home.

  Recently, my Grandma's eccentric, much younger stepbrother had died and willed his house to my mother who gave it to me because she didn't want to leave the home she has lived in for the past 40 years.

  Jean-Claude was maybe 102 or 3 when he died. My mother doesn't know for sure because in those days in Haiti, where he was born, a child's birth isn't registered until one of the parents informs a government census official. She says that home births are very common and sometimes a child could be registered right before they start school.

  Jean-Claude never married and never worked a day in his life. Family folklore has it that his parents were eccentric too! Eccentrically rich. Somehow escaping the country's military government with millions in U.S. currency made on the backs of other Haitians from the sugar and coffee fields.

  That part of the will my mother decided to hold onto. The millions of dollars. She felt it would corrupt our family's love for one another.

  Still my husband was thrilled to death inheriting a home already paid off and we could stop wasting his money on renting an apartment. My mother told me that I would never have to worry about paying property, state, or federal taxes because she would take care of it while she was still alive and eventually I would inherent a trust fund she was setting up in my name. So that was one less thing to worry about.

  I was happy because it came with 5 acres of land, mostly covered in trees, but I knew, if my husband and I put ours minds to it we could clear a large enough area for our expectant baby boy to have a place to play around in as he grew up.

  On the first Saturday of May, my husband, my mom, and myself, took off on a two hour drive for the country. We were all giddy to see the three story mansion I would be raising my child in.

  We had only seen yellowing old photographs of the estate before that day and the idea of living the life of Downton Abby from TV quickly exploded into disappointment as it was almost impossible for my husband to get the front gate open, to drive up to the house.

  The mansion and the surrounding grounds were in very bad shape. Years of neglect from a 102 year old recluse who wouldn't let a soul near his home while alive had weathered the building and let the weeds and wild brush take over the yard.

  My mother said she would have workers out tomorrow morning painting the inside and outside of the house. Electricians and plumbers making sure everything was working properly. With landscapers and gardeners fixing up the grounds.

  "If all goes well," she tells me. "You could be moving in by the end of the month."

  Pretty optimistic I felt. But still, we all agreed to go inside and see if any of the furnishings and other household items were salvageable.

  Before going up the steps to the front door my mother announces to my husband and me that, "The lawyer for Jean-Claude's estate gave me the keys yesterday said there would be an envelope waiting for us on a small table just inside the door." She paused, then asked herself out loud, "I wonder what that could be all about?"

  I saw a gleam in my husband's eyes and I knew he was hoping it was cash. I was hoping it might be a personal letter for my mom giving her well wishes. But my mother kept ominously saying to herself as we entered, "I wonder what it could be?"

  She found the envelope, opened it, and let out a little shriek.

  I picked up the the letter off the floor to see what had frightened her so. It read, "Please take care of Widelene and Mirlande for me. Jean-Claude."

  My mother looked to be in shock.

  "Mom. Mom!" I had to shout to get her attention. "Who are these people?" I asked.

  "They were Jean-Claude's twin sisters. They were killed inside the house by a Haitian man who said your great grandfather stole all his money." She continued with tears in her eyes. "Your great grandfather shot and killed him, but it was too late to help the girls!"

To Be Continued.......

 

This is,

A Fictitious Story And All Characters Are From The Imagination Of The Writer

Jim Hauenstein

 

And,

 

“The ghosts of things that never happened are worse than the ghosts of things that did.”
- L.M. Montgomery -

 

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Eidolon means Ghost by the way.