There had to be a mistake.
Her heart raced, realizing she was flat-out trespassing no matter how sincere her motives were.
Just as colorful as those birdhouses on the path up the hill were, there was a long line of beehives in staggered rows, almost like a little solar farm in bright oranges, greens, blues, and golds. Some were tall, some short, like wedding cakes for different-sized parties. She’d never seen so many. The thought of that many bees making a home here made her itch.
A dog barked, luring her attention away from the buzzing activities to a towering tiered water fountain in front of the house. It wasn’t a scary guard-dog bark, and it only took a moment to find the culprit.
Two beagles leaped into the air, then jumped into the water spraying from the fountain.
They ran out onto the pavement a moment later, leaving a trail of paw prints and water droplets. One pup raced after the other, trying to bite his tail. And if that wasn’t funny enough, aduck floating in the pond, unnoticed until now, suddenly raised up and flapped its wings, scaring both pups off, with their ears back and tails tucked.
She laughed out loud.Bravo, Mr. Duck! You just outmaneuvered bird dogs.
The image of Mr. Duck outmaneuvering the puppies would make a cute note card too.
She tucked away that idea and focused on the house. The architecture was unbelievable. There was even an actual tower at the far end of the building like a storybook castle, Natalie could almost imagine Rapunzel letting down her long hair. Up close, the colors on the exterior were applied in a way that it gave the appearance of moving waters. Almost like a Monet.
She spotted something bright orange moving in the breeze.
It wasn’t a bird but instead the flag on the back of Paul’s scooter.
This has to be the right place. I can’t believe it.
In disbelief, she forged ahead.
Dark, heavy wooden double doors with oversized iron nail heads continued the fairy-tale castle theme. Rapping her knuckles against the door wasn’t very effective. The door was so thick, so solid, that it barely made a sound. She lifted the heavy cast-iron knocker and banged it twice.
Am I dreaming this?
The puppies raced around the fountain after the duck again, yapping and backing up every time the duck quacked.
A noise came from inside. She took a step back, expecting the door to open, but when it didn’t, she could just imagine poor Paul on the floor, unable to get up. He could’ve been there since yesterday.
She rapped on the door again. This time with aggression. “Hello, is anybody home? It’s Natalie.”
She couldn’t make out the noise, but someone was in there. She swallowed hard, gathering her courage, and then tried the door.
She held her breath, listening.
Hearing nothing, she called out again. “Paul? Hello? Mr. Grandstaff, are you in there? I was worried when you didn’t show up. I’m coming in.” She waited, praying for him to respond. “I’m coming in now.”
She pushed the door hard and waited for it to swing open.
Natalie stood there as she let her brain comprehend what was before her.
A ladies’ hat, white with netting, hung on a coat tree.
Her mouth dropped wide as she stepped inside.
This opulent property.
The amazing castle on the hillside that no one ever visited was just a shell like a movie set. Exposed beams and scaffold-like structures held up the facade. In this vast space, the size of a warehouse, hay lay scattered across a cobblestone floor.
She scanned the space. A creek about three feet across, ran through the middle, babbling over a rocky bottom in a beautiful Zen-like melody.
A few chickens suddenly took flight, scattering with squawked objection to her visit. Feathers and hay flew in the air and settled back on the floor.
She walked toward piles of wooden boxes stacked at the far end of the area, next to a pallet of lumber.
