The Weepings of the Moss: Wilting Magnolias (Chapter 1, Part 3)

 

Image: Beaufort, SC. Taken by myself.

“Now,” Mark said with a sigh, “just remember the…the uh…flip value here right? A little investment can go a long way in a property like this.” Though Gabriel could tell he was trying to put a nice spin on it, Mark’s heart was not in it.

“I’m sure,” Gabriel said with a weak smile, before opening the door and stepping out into the whipping, chilling wind. Mark kept his smile but with a shake of his head, and some eyebrow raising, seemed to brace himself before stepping out likewise. Mr. and Mrs. Walker were already waiting outside, both standing side by side as they looked on at the warped, derelict house. Mr. Walker with his arms crossed looked over his shoulder at Gabriel as he approached.

“Now I know it don’t look like much at the moment, but she’s got some beautiful bones,” Mr. Walker said in a matter of fact tone, wagging his finger at the decomposing home. Mrs. Walker untied a small sports jacket she had around her waist and put it on.

“Did it just get colder all of a sudden or is it just me?” Mrs. Walker joked with a small chuckle. “I swear, coldest spring we’ve had in ages.”

“Like a wilting magnolia,” Gabriel said, staring at the house, the wind whipping his dark brown hair.

“What’s that?” Mrs. Walker implored, holding a hand to her ear.

“It looks like a wilting magnolia flower, doesn’t it? The off white?” Gabriel repeated. “I always loved magnolias, growing up I’d always watch the flowers bloom in my front yard in Georgia.” The Walkers and Mark seemed to consider that for a moment as they stared at the house, its dark, gaping eyes for windows staring back at them.

“Huh, I…I guess I’d never thought of it that way,” Mr. Walker acquiesced awkwardly. “See here, I knew this was the right young man to sell to!” He let out a laugh and gripped Gabriel’s shoulder, who didn’t even acknowledge it.

“It’s got all the modern works from when it was last lived in. So it’s got electric, plumbing and water, from back in…the what? 1960’s Dave?” Mark said, gesturing towards the house. Gabriel’s eyes never left the house. A small smile crossed his face.

“That’s right, a Mr. Young once lived here, then he fell on some hard times. Left the poor house to rot, moved to Columbia, but he wouldn’t let the island go. Finally, once he passed he bequeathed it to his children, but they didn’t want it so they put it up for public sale and that’s when we swooped it up in the mid-nineties. This was…a bit too much of a project for us to take on, plus we wanted to live on the east side of the island where we could see the sunrise every morning. There was already a nice, historic hunting lodge with guest houses one that side and we renovated it. That side always seemed to be a bit more in the shade than the other half.” Mrs. Walker moved closer and lovingly put her arm under Mr. Walker’s, leaning her head into his shoulder.

“I always felt bad about this poor place. So much potential, and so much history! By golly this place has been around since, I think the earliest we’ve been told was the 1720’s. Old plantation home I think,” Mrs. Walker said, looking up into the grey clouds as if they would remind her.

“I’m guessing there’s no internet cable running out here though?” Gabriel asked, finally breaking the staring contest with the house and turning to the Walkers. Mr. Walker clucked his tongue and gave a little shake of his head.

“You know son, I can’t say it does. Look,” he broke his locked arms with Mrs. Walker and approached him with hands together as if pleading. “I realize this isn’t exactly every young man’s ideal home here. For most young people it isn’t, let’s be honest.”

“Well Dave don’t sell it short here-” Mark began with a nervous chuckle, but Mr. Walker held up his hand.

“No Mark, I want to shoot straight with Mr. Gabriel here.” Gabriel let out a tired sigh. I know what I want, and you won’t change my mind. He thought to himself, but he was too weary to argue. “I’ll tell you what, I will knock another fifty K off the price if you choose to take it here today. I know what it looks like but frankly Cheryl and I are getting too old to take care of this whole island on our lonesome. And as a proud southerner myself I don’t want to just sell to some developer like that gosh darn Elvio Tropeano, who would rip this place down and put up another golf course, like we need any more of those. Then there’s another part of our history lost. We need to preserve Beaufort and St. Helena, we don’t need another resort. I know it’ll cost an arm and a leg to get the internet dug from our house to yours, so maybe use the other forty thousand or so left over to get started on those renovations to get it livable. What do you say?”

“We really would be honored to have you take care of these old bones,” Mrs. Walker said, putting her hands to her heart, her curly hair fluttering in the wind. “Though it may be a big job for a young man such as yourself, you’re what, twenty six?”

“Twenty nine, I’m about to be an old man myself, so I think I can manage,” Gabriel joked, drawing some laughs from the others.

“Gabriel, I, I don’t mean to step on your toes here Dave,” Mark interjected apologetically.

“Not at all Mark, say your piece,” Mr. Walker said, waving away any offense with his hand nonchalantly.

“Gabriel, I understand you are determined to have your…privacy. But this…this would be quite the job. I just feel a responsibility as the one facilitating this sale that there will be no buyers remorse here. I am not saying this place is not…unique. But I want to be sure you just understand the work it may take to really make this place bloom. I hope this is not coming off as patronizing because you say the word and I will hush myself here.”

“So internet could be run out here?” Gabriel asked. Mark let out an apprehensive sigh.

“I don’t see why not, it wouldn’t exactly be cheap however,” Mark said, getting a nod of agreement from Mr. Walker. Gabriel looked back at the house once more, staring at the yawning void staring back at him. He could already see himself sinking into the darkness, nothing lighting his face but his work laptop as he would have the peace he needed. And most importantly, no visitors. No one to remember a face, no one to ask over, no one to care for.

“Mr. Walker you have a deal.” The wind whipped around them in a sudden surge as he clased Mr. Walker’s hand.

“Mighty glad to hear that, neighbor. This’ll become your garden of Eden too, just wait,” Mr. Walker said with a big grin. “And don’t ever be a stranger ya’ hear? Cheryl and I are just a holler down the road.”

“That’s right dear,” Mrs. Walker said, she now gripping his hand with her petite grip. “you ever need anything, just stop by. I know you’ll love it, our kids all loved running around here on their adventures, I’m sure you’ll love it too.”

“Maybe a bit more when the rain’s not hittin’ his face too,” Mark joked to which they all laughed. “Best get those contractors out here sooner than later.”

“Oh I plan on it, I don’t need much though, it honestly is so perfect,” Gabriel replied politely.

“I forgot to ask,” Mrs. Walker interjected suddenly with a hint of surprise in her voice. “You don’t have any pets do you?”

“Not at the moment no, are there no dogs allowed out here or something?” Gabriel asked curiously.

“Oh heavens no, honey!” Mrs. Walker waved the notion away with her hand and a laugh. “Pets just don’t seem to thrive out here is all. Mr. Walker and I had maybe…three? Four dogs? And five or six cats? It broke our kids’ hearts but any outside pets just don’t seem to make it here. It’s them gators in the marshes I think.”

“That is true. I had to comfort many a crying child about that,” Mr. Walker shook his head tiredly, as if it were only the other night. “I told them they just ran away but, I think it was the gators too. If you do have pets I just recommend they be inside. We got a indoor only cat and a dog now…well if you can call it that.”

“Don’t say that about Fiona!” Mrs. Walker slapped his arm.

“The things a shitterpoo, shitzapoo, I dunno some crap like that. Think’s more like a fluffy rat,” Mr. Walker said with a chuckle.

“Dave! Do not!” She slapped his arm a little harder this time. “She is our sweet angel and you know it.”

“More like your sweet angel, that rat nearly takes my fingers off when I give it a treat,” Mr. Walker and Mark laughed, Mrs. Walker only rolled her eyes. Gabriel gave a polite smile and did his best to not look at them. For a moment their laughter made him ache for something long since dead.

“Well, I’m sure with a little polish I will love the house,” Gabriel said looking back at the old Georgian home. Mrs. Walker put her hand on his arm.

“Oh honey, I’m sure those old bones will love having you.”

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This concludes the first chapter. A new chapter will begin soon. Follow the blog to find out what happens when Gabriel first steps across the threshold of his new home.