Party at the House of Gold

  Party at the House of Gold

  Title Page

  Part 1: Black Friday

  Part 2: The Stories and the Storm

  Part 3: Christmas Dinner

  Part 4: The Darkness, the Party, and the Jailer

  Party at the House of Gold

  by Vincent S. Tobia

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2015 Vincent S. Tobia

  The following is a work of fiction. All of the names, places, events, characters, and establishments are created by the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Editor and Cover Design: Chelsea Holthausen

  The "Lion Crest" image was purchased from the online clip-art collection of the University of South Florida. Please visit http://etc.usf.edu/clipart/

  For more information on the work of Vincent S. Tobia visit the author webpage.

  www.vincenttobia.com

  This book is dedicated to all who have worked in the grocery industry.

  Part 1: Black Friday

  The worst of it was over. The crushing feeling of being mobbed by a thousand strangers. Having to share your air with eager money savers; grabbing, snatching, pushing, and queue jumping their way to the front of the check out line. Toys for tots and tools for guys. Gadgets for teens and a collar for Rufus. Don't forget pretty jewelry for the ladies and the beer for your pals. On this day of super savings and slashed retail prices, all the best sales come with a cost, but the worst of it was over for Bartholomew Dunn.

  "Isn't it bad enough that I have to put up with this crap at work?" Bart asked his wife as he drove home, their van packed to the roof with bags of Black Friday bargains.

  "And with all of these gifts, the neighbors are going to think we are hiding four more kids in the basement," he added.

  Anna laughed as she sipped her caramel mocha frappé and calmly turned her head giving her husband a comforting grin.

  "We did good, Sweetie," Anna comforted.

  "Seriously, I think we over bought here."

  "No, we didn't. We found some great deals, and we have awesome gifts for your brother's kids," Anna stated. "You know, they didn't stop at one child," she hinted playfully.

  "Oookay. Here we go," Bart muttered rascally.

  "Baby, I love you," giggled Anna, "I'm just teasing."

  "I know," he smiled. "I think our little Stella is going to love her knew paint set. The damn canvas board is almost bigger then she is!"

  "And we got that sucker sixty percent off. Tomorrow that will be back up to regular price," added Anna proudly.

  "Yea, still the grocery store is going to drive me nuts tomorrow. It always does this time of year and today reminded me of that fact all too well."

  "Well, your boss let you have off today...?"

  "So I could spend it pushing my way through hoards of people. I'm telling you, that old woman grabbed my ass in Spend-Less! I frick'n swear it!" Bart proclaimed, but he was lying. There was no perverted old woman, he just got a thrill from making his wife crack up.

  After her laughing had subsided Anna continued, "It's a good thing we stopped shopping when we did. Your dad said he'd be back with Stella at noon."

  "We still have twenty minutes which is plenty of time to stash the gifts in the attic!" Bart concluded.

  He then made a left turn off of Main Street and onto Fifth. They passed the ambulance building, and a young kid in an EMT uniform waved to them. He looked no older then eighteen while Bart was well into his thirties. Such a young guy, driving around and saving lives. Could I have done something like that at that age? Could I do it now? Where has the time gone?

  Bart, lost in thought, sped past a stop sign; going right through the intersection.

  "Honey! Woah!" Anna exclaimed, "What the hell? Thank God there weren't any cars coming."

  "Sorry! Wow... " Bart apologized -still in shock, " I was lost there for a moment."

  "Are you okay? I feel like you've been distant recently. At your parents' last night you seemed to trail off a lot... like your brother was talking to you and he had to grab your attention a few times and you still seem out of it," attested Anna.

  "I'm fine, really. I've just been tired... feel like I'm getting old," Bart confessed, "I also hate this time of year at work as you know. I think it's just that."

  "Do you want to see a doctor? Tell him you feel run down?"

  Bart, shocked at the thought of having to see a doctor, looked at Anna incredulously for mentioning it.

  "Absolutely not! I don't need a doctor for Christ's sake."

  Taking a deep breath while looking directly into Bart's soulful eyes, Anna decided to drop the conversation. Instead she looked out the window at the neighbors' Thanksgiving decorations that were still up.

  Reaching the top of Fifth street, Bart pulled the van into the leaf-covered driveway. It was cold -even for late November. The trees while mostly barren, left piles of dead leaves, which he raked into heaping mounds around the yard. Bart loved the autumn chill before it succumbs to winter weather scares. It worried him greatly that they called for an early storm on Tuesday. As a child, he used to love heavy snow storms, but now, working as the dairy manager in the town's only grocery store, he had learned to despise snow. It makes people crazy with fear. It propels them all into the store to buy milk, eggs, bread, and other things of which they probably don't need seconds... or thirds of. Bart slid the vehicle into park.

  "Just tell me if there is anything I can do to help. Okay, sweetheart?" Anna cooed as she leaned over and gave Bart a sweet kiss on the cheek.

  "Well, I could use a little more of that," Bart grinned as he grabbed Anna and pretended to gnaw at her delicate neckline, beautifully familiar but still remaining sweetly exciting after all the years they enjoyed together.

  "That tickles! Stop!" Anna laughed.

  Bart's cell phone began to vibrate loudly in the center console. The screen read: Dad's Cell.

  "Oh shit, I bet he is on his way now. I'll quick grab the gifts, you answer the phone and talk to him, okay hon?" Bart directed, now in a hurry to hide the four large bags of holiday presents in record time.

  "Sure thing!" Anna agreed before answering the phone and exiting the van. She spoke with Bart's father as she opened the garage door, let Bart in, and then moved the van into the garage. Bart was able to bring in all of the gifts in only two trips -a feat due to the cumbersome shapes of the boxes pushing out from the bags...this year's wrapping would be a challenge not to be postponed until Christmas Eve like previous years. As he closed the door to the attic he heard his five year old daughter enter their home.

  "Mom!" Stella said, extremely excited to be home. "Grandpa got me six new coloring books!"

  "Six new books? Wow! Grandpa was very kind!" Anna exclaimed. She was glad her daughter displayed an interest in art although now, Stella was moving more into a love of drawing her own pictures rather than just color outlines, but it was good all the same. Jonathan Dunn, Bart's father, had a special place in his heart reserved for each of his grandbabies and Stella was no exception to the rule.

  "We were at the dollar store. She really wanted them," Jon said with a smile. The retired, sixty-five year old veteran enjoyed loving every second with his granddaughter.

  "Hey Pops," Bart said as he walked down the stairs, meeting them in the foyer, "I see your're still wearing that old farmer's hat. Can we get you a new one for Christmas, please?" Bart pleaded jokingly.

  "You can, but I might not wear it," Jon fired back which caused a fit of laughter from the three adults. Anna gave Bart a knowing grin as she knew there was just that hidden in the attic.

  "Mom, Dad! Guess wh
at!?" exclaimed Stella remembering, "When we were leaving the dollar store we ran into my history teacher!" She held up a square white envelope for Anna and Bart to see.

  "Your favorite teacher, Ms. Van Deventer? That's great sweetie," Anna replied.

  "It's neat you got to see her over Thanksgiving break," added Bart, "What do you have in your hand?"

  "Stella's teacher was really excited to see us," Jon explained, "She ran to her car to get something. Then came back and gave us this letter. Well, it's for you guys anyway."

  "There's going to be a big party!" shouted Stella as she handed her mother the envelope.

  "I'm guessing this is some sort of invitation then?" Anna speculated opening the envelope formally addressed to Stella, her husband, and herself.

  Bart walked over to read the invitation over his wife's shoulder.

  It read:

  Ms. Van Deventer

  requests the pleasure of your company

  at the very first Open House party at Van Deventer Manor

  which will include a cocktail hour, hors d'oeuvres,

  and a private tour of the mansion led by Julia Van Deventer

  followed by a splendid display of fireworks

  on Saturday, Twenty-Sixth of December

  at Eight O'Clock

  at Van Deventer Manor

  Hawthorne Hill

  No reply necessary

  See you on the Twenty-Sixth

  "Oh my God. Is this real?" Anna asked.

  "The House of Gold? Are you frick'n kidding me!?" Bart exclaimed, shocked.

  "Yup," Jonathan smiled, "Apparently Ms. Van Deventer picked twenty children with the highest grades from the elementary school and invited their parents to this thing. You guys have the first invitation, because she's mailing the others on Monday," Jon added.

  "Can we go? Pretty please!" Stella pleaded grabbing Anna's and Bart's hands.

  "Are you kidding? Heck yes we're going! A chance to see the mansion on the hill? This is incredible!" Bart exclaimed as Jon patted him on the back.

  "And you deserve this Stella, it sounds like your hard work got us this opportunity," Anna proudly emphasized.

  "That's right, kiddo," Jon added, just as proud, "Just promise to take some pictures. I've always wondered what it looks like up there."

  "Don't worry Dad, if they let us take pictures, I'll take a ton of 'em. This is too cool! I have to tell Frank," announced Bart.

  "They might get invited too; they currently have three kids in elementary school," explained Anna crossing her fingers.

  "Yea, but how are their grades?" Bart questioned pulling out his cell phone.

  "Alright if I invite him over later tonight?" Bart asked Anna while walking into the kitchen to call his older brother Frank.

  "Yeah, it's fine with me, hon." replied Anna," "I can't believe this invite thing. Did she say anything about anyone else being invited?" Anna probed.

  "No, she didn't mention anyone else specifically," Jon replied.

  "I think it's a secret!" Stella excitedly squeaked.

  Anna quickly reread the invitation with a growing smile on her face while shaking her head; her disbelief fading. She folded the letter carefully, slid it in back into the envelope, and placed it on the table next to a small decorative lamp and two sets of car keys.

  "This is unreal. Do you remember the stories we used to hear about that place?" Anna asked.

  "Are you kidding? I remember them all, Anna. Lots of different stories; all rubbish though. I mean that one story involving the prison inmate sanctuary..." Jon started.

  "The what!?" Stella gasped.

  "No, no stories for you Stella. It's a nice old house and Ms. Van Deventer is a very kind woman" Anna reassured, giving Jon a sharp eyebrow.

  "All I'm saying is that that mansion is old. It has been the center of attention of storytellers for quite some time. The way it's perched on top of the hill, it's no wonder people talked about it. I'm really happy for you guys though. To finally be able to see what's up there with other town folk is exciting," Jon smiled.

  "I have to say, I'm surprised and excited about this," Anna beamed.

  From the kitchen, Bart's call finally went through.

  "Frank? Hey man, guess what... What? No, listen. You aren't going to believe this."

  Part 2: The Stories and the Storm

  On Tuesday, the storm came. It was just Bart's luck that he had to close that night. Although there was only a light coating of snow now, at almost three o'clock in the afternoon, the storm's intensity was supposed to increase by nightfall. Bart sat in the dank break room of Groceries Plus and More eating his lunch: an overstuffed peanut butter and strawberry rhubarb jelly sandwich. The break room was in the basement of the very fine food establishment; a few other rooms and a restroom were also in the poorly lit sub-dwelling. He didn't want to go back out onto the floor. There were so many snow-fearing townies out there already.

  Where's the milk? "Right there in front of you ma'am."

  Do you have seedless white bread? "There's a whole display just behind you sir."

  If I don't have my yogurt, I'll go stir crazy. Have you heard about the storm yet? "Yogurt is at the end of the dairy case. Yes, we are getting quite the storm tonight."

  Do you know of anyone who can shovel my sidewalks? Yes Mrs. Bennard, your grandson always shovels for you." Oh yes, that's right.

  Bart did have something to keep his mind busy however: the Van Deventer Mansion. His brother Frank was thrilled for him; they talked for almost an hour about the invitation Stella received. Over a dozen times during the conversation Frank mentioned that he wished they too would get an invitation to the party on the hill. Bart supposed that was possible; all three of Frank's kids did fairly well in school. Later that evening Frank stopped over to share a few beers with Bart and to have a first hand look at the invitation. "The day after Christmas! Man, you are one lucky guy Bart," Frank proclaimed with excitement and awe.

  There was a certain feeling in the atmosphere. Perhaps it was the holiday season, the first snow storm, and the invitation of the century that all combined to make Bart feel differently. He felt poignant somehow, he felt a little more relevant, and most importantly, he felt alive. The past few years had been difficult for Bart but only on a very personal level. His world had gone gray. If it wasn't for Anna and Stella, he would have completely lost himself in a deep depression. "Why don't you try seeking another job, Bart? Find something you like to do," his doctor suggested during the only visit Bart actually scheduled (and secretly) a year prior. The doc was right: the grind, the monotonous labor, the push and pull, and steady chipping away of life had Bart slowly spiraling out of control. He felt like he had lost the ability to dream. And he had once been so full of glorious dreams.

  But now, things were different. Bart slowly squeezed the jelly out of his sandwich as he lost himself in thought.

  This invitation can change everything. I know there will have to be someone from the newspaper there. Maybe I can get an interview! I'm so proud of my little girl... God she is so darn smart. She doesn't get that from me, that's for sure. I want to be first in line -the first one to walk through the mansion doors with my family. We've earned it; we've lived here long enough. It's time for something to happen! It's time for a change. Why not us? It has to be us! After the party I might be able to...

  "Bart! Yo!"

  Bart was startled, breaking back into consciousness.

  "Dude, your sandwich is all messed up."

  Bart looked down, he had crushed his PB&J into smithereens. Nick, one of the stock boys, entered the break room as Bart quickly wiped the jelly from his hand.

  "Oh, hey Nick. I didn't see you on the schedule for tonight..."

  Nick threw his iPhone onto the table along with his light blue work shirt. He was still wearing his school clothing. Everyone at Groceries Plus and More had to don the dreaded light blue work shirt.

  "Are you kidding? I work every Tuesday night. I start at 3:30."<
br />
  Bart knew that. It bothered him that he had forgotten.

  "Well, we're probably going to need you to help bag tonight. It's going to be nuts out there."

  "I know -it's already a little crazy out there now! ...You okay Bart?" Nick picked up his iPhone and began to text someone.

  "Yeah, just got a few things on my mind is all. No big."

  "Well, get ready for this," Nick began excitedly, "apparently a bunch of kids from the elementary school got invited, along with their families, to go to a shindig at the flippin' mansion up on the hill!" Nick held up his phone gesturing to the breaking news on the screen.

  "Wait, how did you hear about this?" asked Bart who was now sitting up straight as a board.

  "Our neighbors, the Kuehners, have a girl in fifth grade. They got an invitation in the mail."

  "Wait, what!?" a voice called out from behind them. It was Charles, the general manager of the store. He was in a small back room doing paperwork and running most of the business end of the small town food supplier. Bart had no idea he was back there.

  "Oh, hi Charles," Bart said startled, "How long have you been in the back room?"

  Charles rushed over to the break table, his clipboard and calculator still in hand.

  "I'm always back there. What's this about the mansion?" he probed as he pushed up his thick black glasses.

  "People are getting invitations to a party up there. People with kids in elementary school," Nick repeated.

  "What!? That is total horse hockey!" Charles belted out angrily; spit flying from his mouth in three different directions.

  Charles was a small, almost bald, and very easily agitated person. Over the years Bart had become very fond of his wild outbursts. It was amusing working for him.

  "So, because I divorced my wife before we could produce offspring, cast from her wicked hell-spawn mold, I won't have a chance to see the mansion? Complete horse hockey." Charles spit again and the top of his head, as it did often, turned bright red. Bart was fighting very hard to hold back a deep belly-laugh.