Sir Tristan's Estate (Legends Unleashed Vol.1) (3 page)

“I know how to work a camera,” Tom said,
rolling his eyes playfully. “All you need to worry about is looking
pretty for the camera. However, I don’t think that’ll be too
difficult for you.” He winked at her, noting how she blushed and
turned away to hide her face. “When you finish this role of film,
you can get it developed at the estate.”

“The estate has a photo lab?” Skye asked as
she posed for the picture.

“Of course. The Sir Tristan Estate has
everything.”

“That seems to be correct,” Skye observed,
“especially since it’s meant to be closed for business.”

“Although the estate may be closed to the
public, it’ll always be alive.”

Skye wrinkled her eyebrows. “What do you
mean?”

“Smile,” Tom said, ignoring her question.

Skye smiled just seconds before the camera
clicked.

“Thanks,” Skye said, walking forward to take
the camera from Tom. “Hey!” she cried as he laughed and snapped
multiple pictures of her. “Stop it!” She hated when people wasted
film.

“I only took four pictures,” Tom said. He
looked guilty, as if he knew his behavior was inappropriate. “You
can take as many roles of film as you need from the gift shop. The
photo processing is free – just for you though.”

Skye looked at Tom and quickly snapped a
picture of him, although he didn’t seem to notice. “How can you
make me that offer? What’s your position at the Sir Tristan
Estate?”

“It’s beautiful. Don’t you agree?” Tom turned
away from Skye and watched as the waterfall poured clear blue
water.

“I agree, it’s beautiful,” Skye said. “But
I’d like to talk about
you.
”

“There’s too much to tell,” he replied
sadly.

The fog began to envelop the waterfall and
Skye shivered in the sudden coolness.

“We better get back to the estate,” Skye
said, noticing the vast change in Tom’s disposition.

They hurried over the hill and back to the
estate. This time, however, they walked in silence. Full of
confusion, Skye glanced at the menacing clouds and realized she
felt as bad as the weather looked.

Skye fell into her bed that night with a
heavy heart. Although she hadn’t yet worked on her assignment, it
was the least of her worries. She was more concerned about Tom, so
friendly and silly one second, and then changing into a mysterious,
melancholy man the next. This bipolar behavior and intensity was
starting to scare her.

As Skye wrapped the thin blanket around her,
she forced her mind to focus on the reason she was here. She
promised herself she’d dedicate the whole of tomorrow to working on
her assignment. Despite her efforts to detour her thoughts, the
events of the day ominously loomed in Skye’s mind as she fell into
a deep sleep.

She had only been asleep for three hours when
her eyes flew open. However, Skye wasn’t in a dream. She felt her
body being pulled forward as the voice of Tom rang throughout the
hallway and into her room. This time, she had no desire to search
for her white slippers even though her feet were chilled from the
hardwood floor. She hurried out of the bedroom and across the
hallway. As discreetly as possible, Skye peered over the banister
to see Tom talking to a frightened African-American man.

The fog that surrounded Tom and the man was
less dense than it had been the previous night, making it easier
for Skye to view the scene in front of her. A large painted picture
hanging on the wall behind the two men caught her eye. It was of a
man who looked very much like Tom, but older and sporting a thick
mustache and stern expression.

“I…I can’t do this,” the African-American man
stuttered.

Skye studied him closely. He was wearing a
pair of overalls which she presumed were once white. The man looked
tired and defeated; his face wore the worry that his voice
projected.

“You
can
do this,” Tom said
forcefully.

Skye leaned further over the banister and
looked closely at Tom. He looked nearly the same way he always did,
but was wearing a stiff-looking suit that she had never seen
before. His expression was intense and mysterious; an expression
that she knew all too well.

“If Mr. Tristan finds out that you helped us
escape, he’ll be furious. He’ll come after me and the other slaves
and kill us.”

“That’s why you have to leave tonight. My
father won’t know his slaves are missing until the morning. The
other slaves and you will be half way across Virginia by then. Mr.
Jacobs has already loaded the others into the carriage. Your
stalling is putting them all at risk.”

“Will this railroad you’ve talked about
really take us to freedom?” The man’s voice was filled with so much
fear and hope that Skye had to hold back her tears.

“Yes,” Tom answered passionately. “You must
go now or Mr. Jacobs will leave without you.”

The man grabbed Tom’s shoulders. “Bless you!
No matter what happens to us, always be happy with your actions.
You’re a saint. I swear, before the end of this century you’ll have
changed the face of slavery forever.”

“Hurry,” Tom urged.

Skye watched as the soon-to-be free man
hurried quietly out of the house. She stared at Tom’s face; he
wasn’t smiling with pride over his good deed nor was he looking
concerned for the slave’s safety. Now that he’d done all he could
for the slaves, he looked emotionless and empty.

Through a window, Skye watched the carriage
disappear into the foggy night.
There’s something wrong with
Tom
. She was beginning to realize that her visions weren’t
figments of her imagination; they told her something important
about Tom’s true nature. All she had to do was figure out what her
dreams were trying to tell her.

* * * * *

Skye hurried through breakfast the next
morning, anxious to start her assignment. Although Tom was supposed
to be showing her around the estate, they hadn’t made any definite
plans. As soon as they had gotten back from Rocky Falls yesterday,
Tom said goodbye and scurried off. He left Skye wondering whether
his goodbye was a formal bid goodnight or a casual way of saying,
“I’m leaving”.

Skye walked the empty halls of the estate.
He can’t leave. Whatever his job at the estate is, it seems
important
.

From the map of the estate, Skye realized she
was in the entertaining room. According to her map, the
entertaining room was right next to the dining-hall and was used to
house guests before dinner was served. It was furnished with
old-fashioned chairs and backless sofas. There was even a dusty
brown piano in the corner. The walls were covered in nature
paintings.

“They’re beautiful,” Skye said, her voice
echoing throughout the room. This natural phenomenon suddenly made
her realize how alone in the estate she really was. The only people
she had seen were a few employees, all of whom had looked extremely
bored.

She snapped a few pictures before entering
the dining-hall. As with all the rooms in the estate, the
dining-hall was decorated in an earlier period fashion and poorly
lit with lanterns that hung a meter off the ground.

Skye left and moved towards the kitchen,
curious to see what an old-fashioned kitchen looked like. However,
she soon realized that she’d never find out as she tried,
unsuccessfully, to open the locked door.

She slammed her clenched fist against the
door. “The kitchen is almost as good as a dungeon when it comes to
capturing hard labor.” Skye continued her private tour, cursing Tom
for his absence.

After three hours of work, which consisted of
wandering the estate and snapping many pictures with her camera,
Skye decided she had taken enough pictures for the day. She had
plenty of good pictures of dark and gloomy rooms. She was
particularly enthusiastic about her shots of the small rooms where
Mr. Tristan had kept his slaves. She knew those pictures were the
epitome of sadness.

Happy with what she had accomplished, Skye
entered the estate’s gift shop and headed towards the checkout.

“Hello,” a clerk greeted Skye before she had
even reached the checkout.

“Hi,” Skye replied with a friendly smile. “Do
you process film here?”

The woman nodded vigorously. “Are you Skye
Huntington?”

“I was the last time I checked,” Skye
joked.

“Then our photographic services are free for
you, Ms. Huntington,” the clerk replied. “By orders of Tom Dove, of
course.”

“Thanks,” Skye said, handing her roll of film
to the clerk.

“Your pictures will be ready in one hour. Is
there anything else I can get you?”

“Yes,” Skye hesitated, “what is Tom’s
connection to the estate? I know he’s a tourist guide…”

The clerk dropped the roll of film. “A
tourist guide? Mr. Dove is
not
a tourist guide. He’s the
first owner of this estate since Sir Tristan.”

Skye’s eyes grew wide in response to this
revelation. “Excuse me?”

“Mr. Dove is the owner of the Sir Tristan
Estate,” the woman repeated as she picked up Skye’s roll of
film.

“How…how is that possible?”

“Mr. Dove arrived at the estate a few days
after the birth certificate of Kathleen Tristan was found. He had
blood tests that proved him to be related to Kathleen. Therefore,
the property belongs to Tom.”

“This is unreal,” Skye muttered, more to
herself than the woman. “Why didn’t he tell me that he owns the
estate?”

“I don’t know,” the employee answered
truthfully. “The knowledge of Mr. Dove’s ownership was a shock to
us all. He’s only keeping the estate open because arrangements for
reporters to visit had been made before Kathleen’s birth
certificate was found. All the employees are worried about losing
our jobs; many have already been temporarily laid off.”

Skye nodded numbly. “It must be hard for
you.”

“I better get started on processing your
film.”

“Okay,” Skye said. “I’ll be back in an
hour.”

Skye wandered out of the gift shop and
towards her bedroom. She couldn’t believe that Tom had kept his
real identity a secret from her. With so many questions circulating
in her mind, the hour passed in what seemed like a minute.

As Skye returned to the gift shop a shiver
ran up and down her spine; for some unknown reason she felt as if
she was being watched.

Skye observed that the estate was much
quieter than it had been yesterday. She presumed that the reporters
had finished their assignments and left.

“Hello again,” the clerk greeted as Skye
entered the gift shop for the second time that day. “Your pictures
are ready.”

“I could use a few more rolls of film,” Skye
said, taking the package. Although she had many rolls of film, she
decided to take advantage of Tom’s generosity

“Take as many as you like,” the clerk
offered.

Skye picked up three rolls of film and placed
them on the counter.
She must think I’m someone
important.

The woman began to place the rolls of film in
a bag as Skye hurried to place two more rolls on the counter. Her
face reddened but she knew five rolls of free film were worth the
embarrassment.

“Have a wonderful day,” the clerk said as
Skye left the gift shop.

“You too,” Skye replied. However, she knew
her socially appropriate comment was a waste of breath.
Who
could have a wonderful day standing in an empty gift
shop?

Once in her room, Skye closed the door behind
her and jumped onto the bed. She opened the package of pictures and
studied them carefully. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the candid
pictures of herself that Tom had taken. Skye let out a groan as she
saw a picture that depicted a faraway scene of Rocky Falls. The
picture looked as if it had been taken in a hurry. She tossed that
picture on the ground, presuming Tom had taken it. As she flipped
to the next picture, Skye realized that she was the mystery
photographer, not Tom. The photograph that followed was of the
estate; a picture she had taken just a few hours ago. She clearly
remembered taking a picture of Tom. With shaking hands, she
searched through the remaining pictures, looking for the photograph
she had taken of Tom, yet she found no such picture. Skye picked up
the photograph of the scenery and studied it carefully. She was
positive that Tom had been standing in that exact location when she
had taken the picture. Skye was a trained photographer who paid
attention to even the smallest of detail, there was no way that she
was mistaken. Tom
had
been standing there.

“What’s going on?” As she continued to stare
at the picture intensely she shook. “I have to get out of here.
There’s no way I’m spending another night in this estate.”

Images of her strange dreams featuring Tom
filled her mind. They had been so realistic that Skye began to
believe they were more than just dreams. “They’re waking
nightmares,” she realized in a shaky voice.

Her hand reached for the telephone. She was
going to request a taxi come immediately. Before Skye had the
chance to dial the telephone number, her body suddenly froze in
terror upon hearing an ethereal voice.

“Don’t leave,” Tom begged from behind
Skye.

With Tom’s hand on top of hers, Skye shakily
placed the telephone on its receiver.

“How…how did you get in my bedroom?”

Tom gave a gentle laugh. “That wasn’t much of
a problem.”

He’s acting as if this situation is
normal!
“How did you get in my bedroom?” Skye repeated, her
voice steadier, her tone firmer.

“I used the door. What a concept, huh?” Tom
took his hand off of Skye’s and sauntered to the bed. He sat at the
edge of the bed and smiled.

Skye cast a glance at the bedroom door and
then did a double take. The door was locked; her slippers lay
untouched in front of the door. It was impossible for him to have
entered that way.