1..Kalesa is a horse drawn carriage used in the Philippines.It was most common during Spanish colonial era and is sometimes used in some cities.
Chapter Seventeen
Old Vicky and Chaplin
RAFA
An Hour Earlier
RafathoughtofSalas he arrived at Vicky’s home with Kimmy and Hana.He wondered what Sal was up to.It must be midday in the Philippines about now, he thought.He pulled up his phone and thumbed a message:“Guess what?Found out new stuff about Cedarthorne, and you won’t believe Auden’s family history.”He grinned as he typed.He finished with,“I’ll call you before you go to sleep.I love you.”Rafa checked on the cats.“We’re visiting a new house, girls.But don’t worry, just stay in the carrier if you don’t feel safe,” he said.The cats meowed and moved around their carrier as he walked to Vicky’s from the car.
The evenings were livelier in this part of town, unlike Sal’s.The sound of children laughing and dogs barking replaced the quiet hum of the surrounding wildlife at Sal's cottage.This was a more populated part of town, where generations lived, died, and passed on their stories.He would pass by this neighborhood sometimes on the way to Town Square.Whenever he did, he imagined this could be a great place to raise a family.
Vicky’s house was a typical St.Stephenshire home.The Tudor-style house had large chimneys, steep roofs, arched doorways, and prominent cross gables with an abundance of greenery at the front porch.
Vicky had been waiting for him by the front door.“Come in,” she said as she turned on the lights.Rafa looked around and noticed that her home direly needed some cleaning; some shelves needed dusting, and the carpets and sofas had cat hair on them.Vicky struggled to light a match at the fireplace with her frail old hands.Rafa put the cat carrier on the living room carpet and walked over to her.
“Here, let me help you.”He took the match and lit the fireplace.“Why don’t you take a seat?”he said as he started the fire
She didn’t, of course.She merely folded her sleeves up and announced, “I don’t have many guests over, so this calls for a celebration.I better cook you up something yummy.”She moved over to the kitchen and put on an apron.“Let your cats out of their carrier when you’re done.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Rafa was done with the fire, he let Hana and Kimmy out, washed his hands, and helped in the kitchen as best he could.He chopped some greens and onions, then cleaned the unwashed dishes.After that, he endeavored to clean whatever he could while Vicky was busy cooking.He chanced upon a dusty shelf, and while wiping it, he found small framed photographs of loved ones and a cat.
Half an hour later, at Vicky’s instruction, he prepared some tea and hot water, while she served him a big bowl of hot soup swimming with potatoes, carrots, ground beef, and spinach leaves.
“Smells good!”Rafa enthused as he ladled the soup into two bowls.
Vicky led him to the back patio, where a small table and two chairs sat facing the back garden, illuminated with garden lights.Vicky offered Rafa a densely woven blanket, which he accepted.When they sat in the night’s silence, with nothing but the garden lights and the moon above to light their view, calm fell upon their evening.
He slurped his soup in silence, watching the rivulets of oil dance in the beef stock and the steam rise into the cool air.The welcome sight of Kimmy and Hana lounging in the garden helped him savor the moment.Sitting there with a hearty bowl of soup, the sound of nature, and quiet company made his worries melt away.
“Looks like you needed this time in the quiet,” Vicky said as she helped herself to the hearty broth.
“Yes,” he breathed.“Thank you for letting me borrow the books and for the soup.”
Vicky waved a hand generously.“You’re welcome,” she said and leaned back.“But I have to warn you, whatever you’re trying to dig up, best leave it alone.”
He smirked.“Come on, you’re not afraid I’ll find something, will you?”
Vicky didn’t smile; she just looked at him for a moment, then clicked her tongue.“Do you know my name, Rafa?”
“Yes.It’s Vicky Toke.It says so on your librarian’s ID,” Rafa replied with a confused grin.
“That’s my married name,” Vicky said.“My full name is Victoria Spencer-Toke.”
It took a moment, but then it dawned on him, and his smile fell flat.
“Yes…” Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle at his surprised expression.“I’m the last living Spencer from old St.Stephenshire.”It was her turn to smile now.“Tell me, kid.Why are you interested in my great grandparents’ old house, eh?”
The Spencers of St.Stephenshire were just as infamous as the alleged ghosts that lurked in the halls of Cedarthorne Estate.There were rumors that they had been part of a shady underground cult, and that the patriarch, Josiah Spencer, grew mad in his old age.He peered into Vicky’s taunting blue eyes and sensed that he had stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have.
He paused, questioning whether to go ahead with it.The image of Sal emerged from his memory, like a coaxing ghost enabling him to push through.And then, as though possessed by a feverish pull of candor, he remembered why he was doing this.“I need to learn all I can about Autumn Town.Somehow, everything traces back to Cedarthorne.”If old Vicky was ever to share her secrets, he would have to share his too.“Someone is threatening to take Autumn Town, and I’m determined to find a loophole somewhere to stop them.”
Vicky calmly looked at the garden.“History likes to repeat itself, doesn’t it?”She sighed.“I can’t tell you much, kid, because all the old farts back in my day never told me much about it.They were scared they’d tempt fate.Ha!”She took another slurp of her soup.“But that didn’t stop me from finding out the truth…or at least part of it.”She wiped her lips with a handkerchief and poured herself some tea as she spoke, looking as though she was measuring what to tell him.“St.Stephenshire wasn’t always cloaked in never-ending fall.My old folks came, and then it started—”
“You mean the season?”
