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The Abyssal Pt. 01

By: sjharlowe



Preface:

This is a story I've been working on for some time; my re-introduction to writing after some personal things in my life took the craft away from me for a little while. It started with no story, no plot, just the first line, which you'll read if you choose to continue on. The story ran on pretty much balls-to-the-wall from there, and in the meantime I think I've just been a kind of stenographer for something else.

The more the story grows, however, the more I begin to understand that no publisher will ever touch it because of the incest themes, at least not without some heavy cutting and massive re-writes. I have no desire to do that now, so just for kicks I'm presenting to you this story in its most raw and unabridged form. 

It's unfinished, pretty much unedited. There will be more on the way because I'm still working it... I have no choice but to finish. I am, after all, the stenographer, and I can't stop working until the voices stop speaking. If you're a writer, you'll understand.

I should warn you up front, you've got some way to go until you get to the 'good parts', which are often a long way in between. If you're looking for a quickie, this ain't it. I won't be offended if you go somewhere else. But if you want to read a—hopefully—rich and entertaining story, give this one a shot. The good stuff is in there, I assure you, but you have to be patient.

Most of all, I thank you for reading. It's been a long time since I've done this, and coming back to it I've realized it's as fun as I remember. If you want, dive into the story and I hope you have some fun too.

--S.J.

I. The Reunited

Chapter 1

'Mother's dead,' was all the familiar voice on the other end of the line said. Violetta waited for more, but only received the static hum of the phone line. Or maybe it was the static hum of her own head. The sentence 'mother's dead' rang hollow in her ear like old news from long ago and far away. Pompeii was destroyed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Thousands killed. Mother's dead. Violetta, who had no news of her own, stayed silent.

'Letti?'

'Don't call me that, please.'

'Sorry.' No apology in that voice. 'Did you hear me?'

'I heard you.' 

Violetta had known already. Not necessarily that her mother was dead, but that something was wrong. It had happened the day before, exactly three-forty in the afternoon while Violetta was at work. Her heart quickened, a cold sweat broke out on her skin and a great wide lump had formed in her throat as if she might cry. And then, moments later, a cool wave of relief washed over her. These feelings, seemingly from nowhere, bonds that were strained and weakened but not entirely broken. Mother's dead, and now Violetta knew it was her twin sister, Maddalena, Maddy, who had found her. Maddy who had been caring for a sick old woman hand and foot for years. Shock, sadness, then relief the order of her emotions on that day. Violetta knew it without being told.

'Did you know already?' Maddy asked.

'No. I knew something was wrong, but not that.'

'And you still didn't call.'

'No, I didn't.' Again, no apology. There was little apology between the two sisters anymore, and Violetta supposed they were both accustomed to that. There could be no apology when there was nothing between them at all. No real love, but no particular hate either. Now, things felt decidedly neutral and that may have been more damaging than anything.

'Have you made arrangements yet?' Violetta asked.

'I'll take care of it.'

'I can help with—'

'I'll take care of it.'

'Okay.'

There was another long silence. Years ago, when they were younger, that silence would not have been awkward like it was now. Awkwardness did not exist between twin girls growing up together, the kind of twins who could read each other's minds, finish each other's sentences. Now, growing apart on separate sides of the country, they were no longer twins, but just sisters. Sisters different enough to not even like each other very much.

'Letti?'

Violetta let the nickname slip this time. There was still a place inside her, a small silent place, where she liked it. Small and silent enough to forget the troubled last sentence that contained it, the last time they had seen each other, the last words that spelled out their terminal rift. Letti, if you leave with him, I won't love you anymore. Child-like in their simplicity those words, especially coming from an eighteen-year-old woman. Direct and honest, like they had always been with each other. I won't love you anymore. Violetta remembered the way those words had struck her to the core, flooding her young body with so much disappointment, regret and, most of all, anger. All over a man, a boy really, who was not even around anymore.

'Letti, how's Roger?'

This a sudden and—Violetta believed—deliberate shot to her heart. Did Maddy know, or was this simply a case of bad timing? Somewhere deep inside, from the place where that fragile bond still existed, Violetta knew it was not bad timing, though maybe not quite deliberate. The same way Violetta knew something had been wrong a day before Maddy had called, not exactly what, just something. 

'Roger's gone, Maddy. He left.'

'I'm sorry.' The words were reluctant, but there was no hint of condescension in them. If there had been, Violetta might have lost it, despite the nothingness between the two of them. She might have screamed at her sister just for the sake of screaming at someone. She had not even screamed at Roger when he left.

'Letti?'

'What.'

'Are you coming home?'

This question, so unexpected, struck Violetta in a different way from the last one. It raised in her a feeling she could not quite identify, but something altogether familiar. Something from a long time ago when she was young and love seemed easy. Before she learned it wasn't; before she learned that love forces you to make difficult choices. Turn your back on one and take the other. Risk losing something without being guaranteed anything in return. Violetta had taken that bet and come up empty handed.

At once, Violetta resented her sister for being the one to force that decision upon her, yet at the same time she resented herself for being the one to force that same decision upon Maddy in return. Still, the resentment was better than nothing. It reminded her that she could still feel something for her sister, as well as for herself. It made her decision easier.

'Yes, I'm coming there.' She could not force herself, all these years later, to call it home.



The Abyssal Pt. 01



'I'm not staying here, Nancy. I reserved a motel room in town.'

Nancy's eyes widened for a moment, enough so Violetta thought they might pop out. Her lips took on that pursed look that she remembered from her childhood. Nancy had always been a sweet woman, a loving woman, but Violetta knew when her face took on that look, it was time to run. Nancy had been a trusted friend of the family, which meant she had free reign to beat a little girl's behind if the need arose.

Of course, she was no longer a little girl anymore, was she? Being back in the old house, she continued to have to remind herself of that. Nancy apparently had to remind herself of that, too, because her face softened. Not easily, though.

'Now why'd you go and do a foolish thing like that, Miss Letti?'

'I can't—I can't stay here, Nancy. All the memories.'

'Memories are what keep us humble, little girl. You might could use some of that yourself. I know you're a big shot in the movie business and all, but maybe being home might remind you a little of who you were.'

'But the changes. I mean, a bed and breakfast? Whose harebrained idea was that? Change this beautiful old house into nothing more than a halfway house.'

Nancy's great chest rose and fell with an impatient sigh. 'Ain't nobody done no such goddamn thing,' Nancy said, lapsing into the thick southern drawl that only came out when she was upset, 'and I'm goin' to forget you said it.' She sucked a deep breath back in and seemed to gather herself. 'You've been away a long time, Miss. You don't know how things have been, pardon me for saying it. This is much more than a halfway house, as you put it. Your sister's worked damn hard to keep this place beautiful and turn it into a welcome place for folks who need one. Like that young man outside, the one painting. Folks who need to bring the creative back into their lives. Some folks who just need a breath of fresh air. I love you, Miss Letti, but I won't hear you say a word against what's been done here. I love this place just as much as I did when it was just a house, maybe more. So much positive energy has been brought in here at a time when we needed it most.'

'I'm sorry, Nancy. I guess I understand what you mean, but the other thing... certified hauntings? It seems so cheesy.'

Nancy barked a deep laugh. 'Well now, the hauntings, sure. This place has always been haunted, even when you were here. Some people are just better at ignoring it.'

Violetta looked around at the interior of the house, not much different than it had been years ago. The same deep, rich wood furnishings, the kind of décor that could last another century if properly cared for, which it appeared to be. The house had always had a certain antique character to it, but haunted? Violetta, in twenty years of living here, had never thought so. Sure, the Eastman house had its quirks the way any old house did, but certainly not ghosts, not the literal kind of spooks that Violetta was sure the sign outside was advertising.

Nancy took her by the arm and led her back to the front door.

'Now, now, Miss Letti, don't be too judgmental. Few years back, Miss Maddy called in one of them paranormal research groups, small one operating out of Massachusetts or Rhode Island or some damn place. They came up here with their cameras and microphones and all other funny gadgets and spent the night here. Well, they came back within a few days, all aflutter over the stuff they had seen. Eastman Inn even ended up on a television show. I can't believe you never saw it.'

'I don't watch much television,' Letti said. 

'Out there in Los Angeles? Thought you all had tv's in every room of the house out there. Well, anyway, after that business pretty much started jumping and ain't stopped since. Folks these days don't look down on a place that's haunted, and they don't run away from them. I think most folks hope they can learn a little more about themselves by getting closer to the things that scare them. Maybe get an idea of where we're going and what the purpose of us being here is.

'Anyhow, Miss, we'll have plenty of time to talk. For now I'd like you to head back to your car and get your things so I can put you up in one of the empty rooms, and we'll—'

'I can't stay here, Nancy.'

'Sure you can, Violetta. Sure you can.' Nancy voice was reserved, but insistent. And when she used Violetta's full name, Violetta knew the woman was not backing down. 'You can stay in your old home, especially if it's just a couple of nights. Your home is always home, no matter what's happened in the years between. It's safer for you here.'

Violetta did not know what Nancy meant by that, but decided not to ask.





The Abyssal Pt. 01



'Maddy, no—'

'I did what I had to do to save our house. By the time you left, the mythical Eastman family fortune was gone and all we had left was that house. If I hadn't done what I did, we would have lost it. So fuck you and your judgment, Violetta. If you don't like it, go back to L.A.'

Violetta was taken aback both by the anger from Maddy and by the revelation that the family fortune—the one she assumed would always be secure—was gone. She felt like this conversation with Maddy had taken a horribly wrong turn. Maddy had turned to her, her eyes flaring with anger, and Violetta knew now was the time that they would either bridge the gap of the last twenty years or widen it irreparably. 

'Maddy, I didn't mean it—'

'No, you never mean it, do you? Things never come out how Violetta means them. Because Violetta is the only one who gets to change the rules. You change the rules without ever being sorry, without ever being wrong.'

'I'm sorry, Maddy.'

Maddy paused for a moment, her face softening, seemingly caught off guard. Then her face hardened a little, though it seemed forced.

'Maybe sorry doesn't cut it after twenty years. I did the best I could, Letti, I really did. For Mother, for our family. I've worked very hard here, when you went off to see the world and have fun. I stayed here and did what I had to do to protect us.'

'I never saw much of the world. And I never had much fun.'

'Sounds like your own problem.'

'That's so hurtful, Maddy.'

A vaguely shameful expression darkened Maddy's otherwise pretty face. 'I suppose I never had much of a problem saying hurtful things to you, did I?'

Violetta shrugged, not wanting to answer.

'You left us, Letti.'

'I know. You gave me an ultimatum.'

'Maybe that wasn't the wisest thing, not with the magnificent Violetta Eastman. Who takes an ultimatum from no man. Or woman.'

There was a long silence. Violetta did not know if they had solved anything here, but it felt like they had, just a little. Maybe not much, but maybe just enough. She supposed that in her own way, each had admitted that she was wrong. That was a step in the right direction.

'Violetta, can I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

'Do you ever regret the way things were? The way we were?'

'No. Not ever. I always regret how things turned out.'

Maddy's head dropped, that shock of white hair falling over her face, a tear running from her eye. In that moment, she looked prettier and sadder than Violetta ever remembered. Then, in a moment, the way Violetta knew she could, Maddy pulled herself back together, brushed her short hair away from her face, and any evidence of tears was gone. The sound of the door opening came from behind them.

'I lied to you once, Violetta. Just once. Do you want to know what I said?'

'What?'

'I said I wouldn't love you anymore. Do you remember?'

'Yes, I remember.'

'That was a lie.'

Violetta looked at her sister for a long moment. Did Maddy know about the relief that washed through her? Did she know how Violetta wanted to take her in her arms and show her how, deep inside, everything was okay? Maybe it all wasn't, but she wanted it to be. That was more than she had felt for years.

'We should—people are going to be showing up soon,' Maddy said. 'We should gather ourselves together, appear dignified.'

'Maddy, we've never been dignified.'

'We're old women now. Remember how we used to tease the old maids who walked around town with their noses up, boo-hooing the young folks? We're those women now.'

'You speak for yourself, Maddalena Eastman. I'm never going to grow old, and I'm never going to die.'

Maddy's face darkened again, for an almost imperceptible moment. 

'Not if I have anything to do with it,' was all she said, before the parlor began to fill up.