Maybe now that I had it, Elaine would show up again and show me what to do with it. I half expected her to materialize any moment, either on the path back up to the house, in the foyer, in the hall, or anywhere in between. So far I saw no sign of her. The entire house was silent.

  So what now?

  I hesitated outside the door to the nursery, boarded up as it was. Should I attempt to enter? Would that force Elaine to reveal herself? Or would it just bring down on my head whatever wrath it was that almost claimed Seth’s life? I couldn’t be sure. But I felt in my gut that the time was not right for that. Even if I decided to force the issue, I didn’t think there was any way that I could acquire the tools I would need to pry the boards off the door without raising some kind of alarm. Things like that are not quiet tasks.

  So I found myself in my room, sitting on the bed, holding the pocket watch in plain view, thinking surely this would prompt my ghostly messenger to show up and tell me what was next.

  That didn’t happen.

  After a while, I started to feel silly. Maybe I should just try to get some sleep and figure it out in the morning. But even when I curled up under my covers, sleep would not come. My mind kept racing with all of the things that had transpired over the past few days, first and foremost the stunning woman who had lulled me to sleep under the midafternoon sun. It would be easy to think my body’s refusal to rest would be due to the long slumber I had by the well. Yet, I was exhausted in a way that went beyond the mere physical. I still thought that tantalizing woman had drawn something out of me. Scary as that was, she could draw from me anytime she wanted. Maybe I’d go back down there tomorrow, see if she wanted some more.

  Wide awake. Late at night. No idea what to do or where to go.

  I’m not sure what made up my mind for me, but I ended up down in the sitting room where Trevor and I had so recently shared our fateful conversation that ended with him getting his Bible taken away. I perused the books on the shelf, finding most of them to be uninspiring reading. I had no idea what a lot of this stuff was. But there was one book, with a leather binding, the word “Drury” printed in a golden script on the spine, which caught my eye.

  I pulled this book down and seated myself on the sofa to look it over. I rested the pocket watch, which I carried down with me, on the cushion beside me, and started flipping through the old book.

  It turned out to be little more than a photo album with some handwritten notes here and there. Old-fashioned pictures of the estate filled most of its pages, along with the faces of people I had never seen before.

  But there was one picture that caught my eye. It was a group portrait of nine little children standing outside on the wide steps that led up to the front door. I immediately recognized Elaine, standing to one side, a sad little wistful smile playing at her lips. The picture was black-and-white, and had that feeling of antiquity about it. The year 1975 was scrawled at the bottom of the page.

  Also present in the picture was a younger version of Helen, who even then wore a stern matriarchal kind of expression. She was standing right beside an older gentleman who bore a certain resemblance to Esau Drury. Lionel, I presumed? There was a kind of malevolence to the glare he bore in the photo, and I almost slammed the book shut. It was as if he was aware of me, and was staring out at me from the picture. For a moment I was sure that he was looking right at me.

  I almost missed the little kid, who could only have been about six or seven, standing next to this man. But the longer I looked, the more sure I became that this was none other than the child version of Esau himself. He was not looking out, but over, at the cluster of children. But no. One child in particular. A sickly looking kid who…

  It was the one I had seen gazing out at me from the upstairs window. I was sure of it.

  “What are you doing up?”

  I jumped at the sound of the voice, and looked up, only to find Esau Drury standing framed in the doorway. He wore slightly rumpled slacks and a plain white undershirt.

  “Nothing, I… I couldn’t sleep.”

  He sighed. “I thought I heard somebody walking around. I was in my library going over some papers. I see you found the old photo gallery.”

  I shook my head. From the page open on my lap, I could still feel Lionel’s gaze upon me. “These pictures are really interesting,” I said. “Some of them--”

  Esau’s eyes went wide and I stopped in mid-sentence. “What in the--”

  I realized what had captured his attention. He was staring, mouth open, at the pocket watch that rested on the cushion beside me. He sprang forward and snatched it up, the color draining from his skin.

  “Wait, that’s--”

  “I know what this is, boy,” he said, as he flipped it over and gawked at the initials etched into the back of it. “Where did you get this from?”

  “I found it.”

  “Found it?” There was a healthy dose of incredulity in his voice, and something else. Disdain. As if I had wronged him somehow. He actually staggered for a moment and slumped against the wall, staring at the watch. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he was about to cry, or expel some other kind of emotional outburst. I waited and said nothing. I wasn’t sure what I could say or how that might set him off in some way.

  “This… this… I can’t believe…. I haven’t seen… What can I... How?”

  It was the most flabbergasted I had ever seen him. Even standing over Seth’s motionless form crumpled on the estate grounds, he had not so much as broken stride or deviated from his normal personality patterns. But this definitely shook him up. And in that moment, I became afraid. There was a crackle in the air, a raw kind of emotional energy, and I knew that something big was on the horizon.

  He clutched the watch to his breast and made for the door, stammering unintelligible sentence fragments as he went. But he couldn’t take the watch! I was supposed to use it somehow.

  “I need it,” I muttered.

  He spun to face me, a fury in his eyes that came from nowhere. “You need it! This is mine, do you understand? Mine! You are never to touch this again!”

  I was on my feet before I knew what I was doing. I knew I had no rightful claim to that watch, not if it belonged to Esau’s father. But I had to try. Elaine had wanted me to find it. She showed me the way.

  “Wait,” I said, coming closer. “Can’t I just--”

  And then he shoved me to the floor. Hard. I lay there, looking up at that fiery hatred in his eyes. I couldn’t believe that he had actually hit me. I was so shocked that I couldn’t move or talk.

  “Never to touch this again,” he repeated, and then he left.

  I was all alone.

  All alone, that is, except for that nagging feeling in my gut that I had just screwed up big time.

  The Story Continues...

  Thank you for reading Episodes 1-4 of Drury Manor. If you wish to continue with the story, just hop on over to https://www.eslermedia.com/blog/Drury-Manor. New installments of the story are posted every Wednesday night at 8 o’clock, CST. A second compilation, entitled “Drury Manor: Volume II” will be eventually made available as an eBook upon completion of Drury Manor Episode 8.

  In the coming chapters, Henry gives more of himself to the mysterious apparition at the well, with potentially deadly results. How far will he go to steal back the pocket watch from Esau? More will be revealed on the strained relationship between Henry and Uncle Milton, including the exact nature of the “accident” that caused Milton to send Henry to Drury Manor in the first place.

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