Hill House Revisited Part II
It was odd for Abigail to have left town without telling Janet where she was going, but Abigail had, after all, been acting odd these days, so Janet wasn’t completely surprised. She wished Thomas had been left with her, though. The little boy needed a loving, stable environment, and some positive male role modes, as often as these things could be provided, and, although she prided herself on being extremely tolerant and nonjudgmental (after all, hadn’t she accepted Ian and Abigail?), she couldn’t help thinking that his other grandmother, with her constant complaints about her ex-husband, just didn’t give him that.
Still, the secretiveness was bothering her. Not only had Abigail not told her where she was going, she hadn’t even bothered to tell her she was going anywhere at all. If Janet hadn’t decided to do something she rarely did, calling her daughter-in-law at the office to see if they could plan some time to get together, she never would have known Abigail was out of town for a few days. Her calls to the cell phone were obviously being ignored.
Of course, this probably meant nothing more than that Abigail had a new man in her life, someone she didn’t yet want to share with the family. They’d most likely decided to take a long weekend away together. Janet found nothing inherently wrong in that. It had been a year since Ian’s death, and a new man would be a sign that Abigail was moving on. The problem is, Abigail hadn’t shown any other clear signs of beginning to move on with her life. She certainly hoped this wasn’t just a new way for Abigail to ignore her feelings, to stay preoccupied with something new and exciting. She worried about any man who might be showing interest in a woman who was in such a fragile state. A “rescuer” who turned “manipulator” would not be good, in fact would be terrible, for Abigail right now.
****
Abigail took a seat on the glider next to Theodora’s, ready to bombard her with many questions. Theodora, however, had a very different agenda. She was far more interested in Ian and Abigail than she was in discussing Hill House, Dr. Montague, and her life prior to the incident. Nonetheless, she was extremely patient with Abigail, providing her with thorough answers to all the questions.
Anyone listening would have thought they made quite a pair. Abigail was racing through everything as if they only had one hour to unveil all the mysteries of the book she’d just devoured. Theodora rocked the glider slowly and methodically, carefully considering every question asked, and responding as though neither one of their lives would ever end.
Finally, she said, “Look, that really wasn’t the most interesting of our cases. Unfortunately, it just happens to be the one everyone knows, because Ms. Jackson decided to immortalize all of us, even poor Eleanor, who really should have been allowed to rest in peace. I could share with you some stories that are far more interesting than Hill House.
“Dr. Montague and Shirley Jackson had a real falling out over some of the details [funny, since there didn’t seem to be many of those] in that book. As most writers do, she got many of them wrong. She assumed so many things she shouldn’t have. And then, of course, once we all decided not to talk to her, at Dr. Montague’s request, she just blatantly made up stuff. Today, we’d probably all sue her, but in those days, we just laughed about it.
“At this point in time, I can’t really say I blame her. After all, the bare bones of the story are good ones, and she weaved magic with them. I’m just saying that much of it was more fiction than truth.
“For instance, Robbie and I didn’t have our big argument as a result of my choosing to go to Hill House. We’d quarreled about three weeks’ prior, and I’d moved back to Connecticut from Santa Fe. I was living on my own. And in the book, Luke is portrayed as somewhat of a mindless playboy, ordered about by his family and made to come live at Hill House. The truth of the matter is he was the one who insisted a family member ought to be in the house when strangers came to visit, and he decided he’d be that member. I still don’t know how she could’ve botched that.”
Abigail was so surprised to hear all this. “But the house itself? I mean, the fact it was haunted, that was real, right?” A year ago, she would have thought this a ridiculous question, but her opinions concerning ghosts and haunted houses were rapidly changing.
“That house was full of ghosts, my dear, no doubt about it. More so than most of the houses I’ve encountered.”
Theodora was determined to get Abigail out of Hill House and into one of her other houses. There’d been many. They’d actually gone to England and the Caribbean a few times, despite the fact Dr. Montague wanted to limit his research to the U.S. And she laughed as she remembered some of the hoaxes they’d encountered.
“In one house, the husband was hoping to scare his poor wife into leaving. Before we arrived on the scene, he’d actually gone walking around dressed in a sheet, passing by the doors of the rooms in which she sat or lay in bed. He had a friend who would climb onto the roof and rattle chains. All I could think was that he’d seen the movie Gaslight one too many times. His wife’s family was completely convinced, though, which just goes to show what people are willing to believe.
“Anyway, I’m sure they didn’t even give you any peanuts on the plane. You must be starving. Let’s go in and eat.”
At dinner, she turned the conversation back to Abigail, eager to learn the details of the life shared with Ian, how they’d met, what their little boy was like. Abigail hadn’t had this sort of a conversation in ages, and she found herself struggling with many different emotions: sadness, enjoyment, fondness for Theodora and the eager way she leaned forward, listening intently.
She had met Ian at a large dinner party hosted by a friend of his and a friend of hers. She was one of the requisite females invited by Valerie to sit across from one of the requisite males invited by Michael. Unfortunately, the young man chosen for her had been a complete idiot. The older man, sitting next to him, however, had been completely endearing. Quite obviously, the older woman sitting next to Abigail who’d been chosen as his companion thought so, too. The three of them had stayed quite late, discussing books and music, Abigail’s two favorite subjects.
She’d been completely surprised when Valerie had approached her cubicle at work a couple of weeks later and asked if she could give Abigail’s number to her husband’s friend Ian. She had wavered somewhat. Ian had been 43 at the time, and she only 26. She hadn’t known the exact numbers, of course, but she had been aware that he was nowhere near her own age. In the end, flattery had gotten the best of her. She couldn’t believe someone so smart and so funny was more interested in her than their other dinner companion, who had seemed far more glamorous, impressive, and well-read than she’d ever be.
They’d hit it off tremendously from the first date. She couldn’t get enough of his conversations, and their dates weren’t accompanied by the all-too-familiar anxieties typically associated with dating. She had none of the questions that were so familiar: not “does he really like me or is he just lonely and can’t find anyone better?” nor “should I return his call or let him call me again?” not even “should I take him up on his offer to spend the night with him?” Everything just felt right and happened as one would expect it to happen. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when eight months after they’d met, he’d asked her to marry him. He said it had taken him too many years to find his other half, and he wasn’t about to let her go.
(To be continued...)
Still, the secretiveness was bothering her. Not only had Abigail not told her where she was going, she hadn’t even bothered to tell her she was going anywhere at all. If Janet hadn’t decided to do something she rarely did, calling her daughter-in-law at the office to see if they could plan some time to get together, she never would have known Abigail was out of town for a few days. Her calls to the cell phone were obviously being ignored.
Of course, this probably meant nothing more than that Abigail had a new man in her life, someone she didn’t yet want to share with the family. They’d most likely decided to take a long weekend away together. Janet found nothing inherently wrong in that. It had been a year since Ian’s death, and a new man would be a sign that Abigail was moving on. The problem is, Abigail hadn’t shown any other clear signs of beginning to move on with her life. She certainly hoped this wasn’t just a new way for Abigail to ignore her feelings, to stay preoccupied with something new and exciting. She worried about any man who might be showing interest in a woman who was in such a fragile state. A “rescuer” who turned “manipulator” would not be good, in fact would be terrible, for Abigail right now.
****
Abigail took a seat on the glider next to Theodora’s, ready to bombard her with many questions. Theodora, however, had a very different agenda. She was far more interested in Ian and Abigail than she was in discussing Hill House, Dr. Montague, and her life prior to the incident. Nonetheless, she was extremely patient with Abigail, providing her with thorough answers to all the questions.
Anyone listening would have thought they made quite a pair. Abigail was racing through everything as if they only had one hour to unveil all the mysteries of the book she’d just devoured. Theodora rocked the glider slowly and methodically, carefully considering every question asked, and responding as though neither one of their lives would ever end.
Finally, she said, “Look, that really wasn’t the most interesting of our cases. Unfortunately, it just happens to be the one everyone knows, because Ms. Jackson decided to immortalize all of us, even poor Eleanor, who really should have been allowed to rest in peace. I could share with you some stories that are far more interesting than Hill House.
“Dr. Montague and Shirley Jackson had a real falling out over some of the details [funny, since there didn’t seem to be many of those] in that book. As most writers do, she got many of them wrong. She assumed so many things she shouldn’t have. And then, of course, once we all decided not to talk to her, at Dr. Montague’s request, she just blatantly made up stuff. Today, we’d probably all sue her, but in those days, we just laughed about it.
“At this point in time, I can’t really say I blame her. After all, the bare bones of the story are good ones, and she weaved magic with them. I’m just saying that much of it was more fiction than truth.
“For instance, Robbie and I didn’t have our big argument as a result of my choosing to go to Hill House. We’d quarreled about three weeks’ prior, and I’d moved back to Connecticut from Santa Fe. I was living on my own. And in the book, Luke is portrayed as somewhat of a mindless playboy, ordered about by his family and made to come live at Hill House. The truth of the matter is he was the one who insisted a family member ought to be in the house when strangers came to visit, and he decided he’d be that member. I still don’t know how she could’ve botched that.”
Abigail was so surprised to hear all this. “But the house itself? I mean, the fact it was haunted, that was real, right?” A year ago, she would have thought this a ridiculous question, but her opinions concerning ghosts and haunted houses were rapidly changing.
“That house was full of ghosts, my dear, no doubt about it. More so than most of the houses I’ve encountered.”
Theodora was determined to get Abigail out of Hill House and into one of her other houses. There’d been many. They’d actually gone to England and the Caribbean a few times, despite the fact Dr. Montague wanted to limit his research to the U.S. And she laughed as she remembered some of the hoaxes they’d encountered.
“In one house, the husband was hoping to scare his poor wife into leaving. Before we arrived on the scene, he’d actually gone walking around dressed in a sheet, passing by the doors of the rooms in which she sat or lay in bed. He had a friend who would climb onto the roof and rattle chains. All I could think was that he’d seen the movie Gaslight one too many times. His wife’s family was completely convinced, though, which just goes to show what people are willing to believe.
“Anyway, I’m sure they didn’t even give you any peanuts on the plane. You must be starving. Let’s go in and eat.”
At dinner, she turned the conversation back to Abigail, eager to learn the details of the life shared with Ian, how they’d met, what their little boy was like. Abigail hadn’t had this sort of a conversation in ages, and she found herself struggling with many different emotions: sadness, enjoyment, fondness for Theodora and the eager way she leaned forward, listening intently.
She had met Ian at a large dinner party hosted by a friend of his and a friend of hers. She was one of the requisite females invited by Valerie to sit across from one of the requisite males invited by Michael. Unfortunately, the young man chosen for her had been a complete idiot. The older man, sitting next to him, however, had been completely endearing. Quite obviously, the older woman sitting next to Abigail who’d been chosen as his companion thought so, too. The three of them had stayed quite late, discussing books and music, Abigail’s two favorite subjects.
She’d been completely surprised when Valerie had approached her cubicle at work a couple of weeks later and asked if she could give Abigail’s number to her husband’s friend Ian. She had wavered somewhat. Ian had been 43 at the time, and she only 26. She hadn’t known the exact numbers, of course, but she had been aware that he was nowhere near her own age. In the end, flattery had gotten the best of her. She couldn’t believe someone so smart and so funny was more interested in her than their other dinner companion, who had seemed far more glamorous, impressive, and well-read than she’d ever be.
They’d hit it off tremendously from the first date. She couldn’t get enough of his conversations, and their dates weren’t accompanied by the all-too-familiar anxieties typically associated with dating. She had none of the questions that were so familiar: not “does he really like me or is he just lonely and can’t find anyone better?” nor “should I return his call or let him call me again?” not even “should I take him up on his offer to spend the night with him?” Everything just felt right and happened as one would expect it to happen. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when eight months after they’d met, he’d asked her to marry him. He said it had taken him too many years to find his other half, and he wasn’t about to let her go.
(To be continued...)
posted by Emily Barton at 3:26 AM
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