The Second Bedroom

The dilapidated wooden house, with its secrets that lurk inside, waited silently as it continued to deteriorate. The thick kudzu vines and broken limbs from decaying trees shielded the house from being noticed where it sets on the deserted property. The path that led to the front door was overgrown with weeds and thorny rose bushes.

Iris found herself, on one of August’s hottest days, drenched in sweat, as she stood next to her car, observing the vacant house where she was born and raised, the house that constantly called her name.

Iris reluctantly began her journey toward the house. With every step she took small twigs crunched beneath her shoes. She thought about turning around and fleeing, but not this time. If Iris wanted to break ties with the memories that have haunted her for so many years she must complete the journey.

Tattered curtains, faded and stained, still covered the paneless windows. Iris wondered why and how did the house last for so long. Had it been waiting for her?

Finally, Iris stood on the shaky porch. The swing where she sat and played with her doll, Miss Ann, was missing. Only its rusted chains still hung from the rafter. The front door was ajar. She did not need her key to enter. As Iris open the door the old hinges creaked.

This was not the first time, in the last sixteen years, that Iris had made the trip, only to drive slowly by to observe the house from a distance, but dared not to stop and go inside.

The floors were buckled from rainwater that leaked through the sagging ceiling. The stench that emanated from rodent’s urine and droppings, and other stray animals, that took refuge there, was horrendous.

The first bedroom’s door where Iris slept was missing. She cautiously entered. All of the dusty old furniture, including her grandmother’s rocking chair, were left behind when they finally moved away.

Iris could smell the ashes that once burned in the fireplace, in the room, where she once played with her doll, Miss Ann, and where Lilly, her teenage mother, and young Aunt Rose sat to keep warm by the fire. The two iron beds, with their mattresses missing, stood proudly in each of their respective corners. The bed on the right was where her grandmother, Sarah, and Aunt Rose slept. The bed on the left was where Iris and her mother, Lilly slept.

As if it were yesterday, memories began to take Iris back to the days when she, Lilly and Rose waited impatiently for Grandmother to bring their supper, the leftover food from her job where she was the cook and housekeeper. Rose would sit in the rocking chair and daydream about her prince charming coming to whisk her away to a better life. Lilly, sitting on the edge of her bed, just wanted to move far, far away, and begin a new life. Iris was contented to sit on the floor and comb Miss Ann’s long black hair. That wasn’t such a bad life, Iris surmised. But, there was the second bedroom, where all the secrets were left to be explored. She must not tarry because the sun was setting and inside the house was becoming dark.

Iris continued to slowly walk down the hall until she was standing in front of the second bedroom which door was closed. Iris hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. She hesitated, when noises coming from the kitchen, across the hall, got her attention.

She went into the kitchen where frightened roaches and rats scattered across the dirty floor to find a place to hide. The old kitchen table and chairs, and hutch, where the dishes were stored, still stood. The cast iron stove was caked with layers of dust. Four molded dishes and cups, incased with spider webs, were in the rusted sink. Overcome by the sights and pungent odor, Iris wanted to vomit, but she did not want to add to the mess. She hurried to the opened kitchen window to breathe some fresh air. She noticed, in the back yard, that fruit from the old pear tree, lay on the ground decomposing and the peach trees were covered with sticky sap while a huge limb from the chinaberry tree had fallen against the backdoor, rendering it shut. Iris must return the way she entered.

Suddenly, a calmness overcame her. She turned to find herself in the tidy kitchen that she remembered as a young girl. The stove was pristine and the smell of sweet honeysuckers filled the room, nor were there any dirty dishes or cups in the sink. The floor was mopped and the bugs and rodents were not in sight. Seated at the table were the spirits of the three women that Iris adored: Sarah, Lilly, and Rose. They were chatting about what they were going to do for the rest of their lives.

The women, after all those years, were as young as Iris. The spirits stopped talking and looked at Iris. They said, in unison, as if singing a song, “We have been waiting for you. We can’t move on until your heart is unburdened. What happened to you in that room was not your fault. leave that door shut. Turn around and walk out the front door, but before you go, look inside the oven. There is something in there that has been waiting for you all of these years.” Iris opened the oven door. There was a pillowcase tied with one of the strings that her grandmother had torn from one of her old housedresses that stalked the tomato plants, to keep the fruit from touching the ground.

She untied the pillowcase and looked inside. To her surprise there was her doll, Miss Ann, the doll that she loved as a little girl. The same doll, dressed in her little green dress, that Iris stuffed into a hole in the wall, after blaming the doll for what happened to her in the second bedroom.

“We saved her for you,” they continued, “We knew you would return. Take Miss Ann and walk out that door and live the life you deserve. We will be right behind you!”

Iris removed Miss Ann from the pillowcase leaving it and the string laying on the floor. Carrying Miss Ann in her arm, she walked out of the kitchen. Without pausing, she walked past the second bedroom. When she got to the first bedroom, she glanced inside and smiled, and then walked out the door and exited the yard.

Iris looked back to see if the three spirits were following. They were not. Iris said, “Miss Ann, let’s go home.” As she drove away, the house crumbled to the ground, leaving a cloud of dust.