Free The Tale of Halcyon Crane by Wendy Webb Page A

pounding up the stairs. The same girl, squealing as she slid down the banister. A glowering woman in a long black dress. Was I remembering snippets from a long-buried childhood or just imagining what might have been? I didn’t know. It seemed real, but after seeing a person drowning in the water earlier and hearing that singsong tune on the street in front of Will’s office, I wasn’t certain I trusted my own mind.
    In the living room, I ran my hand gently over the back of the sofa as I took a look around. Like those in the Manitou Inn, the floors here were made of gleaming hardwood, andthe woodwork around the door frames and windows shone as though it had been freshly waxed. An overstuffed brown leather sofa sat in the middle of the room, along with a love seat and an armchair. Worn rugs were scattered about. A stone fireplace stretching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling stood in one corner, a flat-screen television in the other. Cherrywood paneling lined the walls that did not face the lake.
    Photographs were everywhere—on the walls, the coffee tables, the raised stone hearth—as were framed covers of several magazines:
Time
,
National Geographic
,
Vanity Fair
. I had already seen many of the shots on Madlyn’s website, but several were new to me.
    I picked up a photograph here, a candle holder there, fingering the stuff of my mother’s world in an attempt to leave my imprint. Dust floated in the air. The energy in the room was electric and alive, as though the house itself were watching me.
    Will came over to me. “You okay?”
    “I guess I’m a little overwhelmed,” I admitted. The truth was, I was a lot overwhelmed. The house was bigger and more opulent than I had expected, and I was having trouble wrapping my mind around two notions: that it was now mine, and that I used to live here.
    “Check out the sunporch.” William pointed toward a set of sliding doors at the far end of the room. “It won’t be sunny out there on a day like this, of course, but you’ll get the idea.”
    I pushed open one of the doors into a room with windows on three sides. It overlooked the lake to the front and theside gardens to the back. Rain was hitting the windows in gusts, mixed with a little icy sleet. Lovely. I heard the thunder again, and then a crack of lightning arced through the sky.
    “Wow,” I murmured, settling onto a chaise in the corner of the room. “It’s great to watch a storm in here.”
    Along with the chaise, a couch with a muted floral print and an overstuffed striped armchair formed a sitting area, next to a small glass table and an enormous wooden rocking chair. The style could be described as the shabby chic that was popular a few years ago, but this furniture seemed just plain old. Comfortable but old. Magazines were strewn in racks, books sat on end tables. It occurred to me that this was where Madlyn spent much of her time. I could feel her—or something—alive here.
    And then I heard it, as clear as crystal:
Hallie! Halcyon Crane! Have you done something with your mother’s camera?
It was a female voice, a loud female voice, coming from behind me.
    I spun around and onto my knees to look over the back of the chaise. Nobody was there.
    “Hallie—” William poked his nose into the room and began to speak but stopped when he saw my expression. “What’s the matter?”
    I was breathing heavily and could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I rubbed my hands on my jeans. “Nothing. It’s just—I thought I heard something.”
    “The dogs?”
    “No, it was a voice. I think it was my mother’s voice.”
    He stood there for a moment, eyeing me carefully. Sizingup the lunatic, I thought. But then he said, “You know what? Maybe your memories are coming back.”
    Could that be? A childhood memory of this place? My first one! “I’ll bet I played in here a lot as a child,” I said, smiling and turning around in a circle. “I love this room.”
    “You did.” He smiled at me.