Nandita To Nandini
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Grace And OwenChapter 8 free porn video
A new character introduced in this chapter:
Old Joe
A semi-retired farmer, 5'-9'' tall, 145 pounds, late 50s or early 60s, gray hair, brown eyes
"And where is Plantation Lane?" Owen asked the clerk.
"Take North Main Street and keep going north after leaving town. You'll find the sign for Plantation Lane on the left a short distance before you reach Mill Creek. If you come to the creek, you went too far," he told us.
"We would like to look at this property before we pay for it. Is there anything that I need to do to hold it until we can get back?" Owen asked.
"Not really, not that I could hold it in any case. The first one to pay the back taxes will own the property, but I wouldn't worry. No one has even asked about it in several years," the clerk informed us with a smile.
"We'll need to rent a buggy and drive out there, and then we'll be back and let you know our decision," Owen assured him.
"Don't you want to know how large the property is or what the taxes on them are?" the clerk asked.
"Yes, that would be good to know."
"Each of the properties is more or less fifty acres, and the taxes for the six amount to $360.00 and that's in cash," the clerk told us in a positive voice.
"Three hundred acres?" I asked in a startled voice.
"Yes, ma'am. It was pretty good farm land at one time, but its all grown over with weeds by now."
"Owen, show him the money," I told him, and Owen pulled the roll of Gold Double Eagles out of the pocket of his coat where he had kept them.
"So you know that we are serious," Owen said showing him the roll of gold coins. The clerk turned a bit pale on seeing it.
"Yes sir!" he said with an air of surprise, "Gold is even better than those yankee paper dollars."
Owen went to rent a buggy at the livery stable, and I went to get something for us have for dinner on the trip. I picked up a small woven wooden basket on the way to the diner. Owen was waiting outside with the buggy when I emerged with the food, and we set out up North Main Street for Plantation Lane and the properties along it.
The Property and the House:
It required longer to reach Plantation Lane than we had expected, as it was several miles north of Statesboro, but we did eventually spot the small painted sign on its leaning and dilapidated post and turned onto the road there. Plantation Lane hadn't seen any maintenance in a considerable period of time and was rutted and potholed. It would require considerable maintenance if it were to be used regularly.
We had gone something over a mile up the lane before we came to the gates, and what gates they were! Owen stopped the buggy well short of those large, tall, fancy decorative iron gates, and we just stared at them for a time.
"Now those are some fine gates," Owen said at length. "They will need some maintenance and some paint, but it's nothing that I can't do," he finished in a professional voice.
"How do we get in?" I asked.
"Let's look at the lock mechanism," he suggested, and got out of the buggy and helped me down. We were approaching the gates when they suddenly unlocked and opened, all by themselves, startling both of us.
"That problem seems to be solved," he said, as we came even with the now open gates and could get a good look at the fences on either side of them that ran for several hundred feet before disappearing into some bushes at either end. It appeared that the fences would also require maintenance and paint.
Once through the gates however, all thoughts of them or the fences disappeared, as we beheld the house something well over a hundred feet beyond them. It was huge!
"It's a mansion," I breathed in shock on looking at it.
"I believe that it's called a plantation house," Owen told me after a few seconds.
"It's huge!" I told him excitedly before asking, "Did the clerk mention a house out here?"
"He mentioned a small house in Statesboro, but no, I don't remember him mentioning a house out here and certainly not one like this," he answered.
"Can we look at it?"
"I don't see why not," he answered, but returned to bring the team and buggy inside the gates, which closed and locked loudly by themselves when he was inside again. This was certainly spooky, and I wondered how it was done before remembering some passages from the O'Connell book of Magick that I had read where it mentioned that Sorcerers or Wizards could control things with their Magick. The question then was who had cast the spells, and why were they working for us?
Owen left the horses to munch on the overgrown grass of the yard, and we walked up the entrance road toward the house. We could see that it was two stories with a steeply pitched roof so there was sure to be a large attic. Since the first floor of the house was four feet or so above the ground around the house, there was a good chance that there was a basement also.
On the way to the house, I noticed that for not having anyone living here for a number of years, the house and the grounds appeared to be in very good shape. There was a slight tingling sensation as we set foot on the steps that led up to the porch which ran all of the way across the front of the house.
"Will we be able to get into the house?" I asked, as we stepped on to the wide porch.
"No idea, we'll need to try the doors," he told me, and that was when I noticed that there were a pair of front door to the house, not just a single door, which was what I was accustomed to.
"How old do you think this house is?" I asked, as we crossed the porch to the front doors.
"From the details that I've seen so far, I'd say that it had to have been built over a hundred years ago or so," he told me as he reached for the doorknob on the right hand door, which opened before his hand touched it.
"Curious," he said, as he looked at first his hand and then back at the doorknob.
"You first," I told him, as I had chills running down my back caused by all of these unusual happenings, but we had no trouble entering the house. There were parlors on both sides of the entry hall, which had a wide set of stairs leading to the second floor, but we didn't explore up there yet, and just continued down the hallway.
There was a music room and another room before we came to the large dining room. It had a huge carved mahogany dining table with a multitude of chairs. There were two sideboards and other furniture. All of it was made of mahogany, but it was the wall paper that really captured our attention. It made the entire room appear to be set in an open glen surrounded by trees. There was also a large chandelier that held numerous candles above the table.
The kitchen was located behind the dining room. It held a wood burning stove, an icebox, a sink with cabinets above and below, as well as a separate pantry and a large farm-house table for the preparation of meals and other work. There was also a small separate dining area attached to the kitchen. It was a fantastic kitchen, and much better than any that I had worked in previously, being very spacious.
The most amazing thing about all of this was that I hadn't seen any dead bugs, dust, or any cobwebs in all of the downstairs area. How could a house that had been closed up all of this time since the death of the last Sister be this clean? It was almost like someone had known that we were coming and had cleaned it up. All of the furniture was intact as far as we had seen and there were dishes in the cabinets as well as utensils and pots and pans. All that it needed was food, and it looked like the owner had just stepped out a few minutes ago to get that rather than like a house that had been empty for a number of years. I turned then and looked at Owen.
"Do things here seem a little strange to you?" I asked him.
"Yes, it's like the owner had just stepped out to get something, and not like no one has been living here in years," he replied, as we continued to look around.
"What about the upstairs?" I asked.
"We can look at it later. Let's have a look at the rest of the buildings on the property first," he replied. There was a back door in the kitchen, and we used it to return outside, and it too had opened as we approached it.
Behind the house we found what had been a small garden that was now overgrown with weeds. We discovered that there was a brick carriage house and a wooden stable on the right side of the house along with what looked like a chicken coop. On the left there was a small building that we discovered was a chapel, but it was the other large building some distance from it on the left side that held the biggest surprise of all. On opening the doors, it turned out to be a shop, even I could tell that at a glance, but more importantly it was a Blacksmith shop. Owen's mouth just fell open on seeing it.
He quickly made his way inside and began inspecting the various tools and other items. It was a much better organized and cleaner shop than Mr. Hardie's shop had been. After a time, he returned to where I was standing just inside the double doors.
"This is a complete shop!" he said in amazement. "It even has coal and some iron to begin work with," he added but hesitated for a number of seconds.
"The most amazing thing is that some of these tools are my tools!" he said and stopped again for several seconds before continuing, "Tools that I made or modified while working for my Father. The remainder are very good quality new tools and appear to be factory made and right out of one of the leading blacksmithing catalogs. Even the forge is brand new and unused, but the most amazing thing of all is that this is my favorite hammer," he told me holding up what looked to me like a rather heavy hand hammer. "This is the one that I left behind in Pittsburgh when I had to leave quickly," he finished before turning to point out something else to me.
"That is my Father's 350 pound Mousehole anvil. I would know it anywhere. I last saw it in our shop in Kentucky. How can it be here?" he asked in a confused voice.
"Are you sure that it isn't just a similar anvil?" I asked.
"No, come look at it," he demanded and led me by the arm over to the large anvil sitting on a stump.
"See that nick on the top edge of the anvil?" he demanded. "I did that as a young apprentice, and my Father blessed me for it for over a week, but he eventually forgave me. Another anvil wouldn't have that mark in exactly the same place, so no, this isn't just a similar anvil. This is my Father's anvil, though how it and these other tools could have gotten here from Kentucky, I have absolutely no idea," he finished in a tired voice.
"Magick!" I said, but the word had escaped my mouth on its own.
"Do you really believe in that?" he asked in surprise.
"Do you have a better explanation for how all of this got here?" I asked and pointed to all of the tools and other things here. "Or for the condition of the house, or how the gates and the doors opened for us?" I demanded. Owen just looked at me with a bewildered expression on his face for many seconds following that.
"No, I can think of no other way that all of this could have happened, but why US?" he asked in a very quiet voice.
"I have no idea, but WE need to get back to the Courthouse before someone else decides to buy these properties. We can return later and look at the rest of it and at the farm land also," I told him in an earnest voice.
"Yes, this is way too good a deal to allow it to slip through our fingers," he agreed. We left the shop then, and the doors closed behind us, and the lock locked itself securing them. There was a bucket sitting on the edge of the well there in the yard, and it was already full of fresh water. Owen carried it back to the buggy for the horses to drink. As we passed the various doors of the house that we had opened to inspect it, we heard them close and lock by themselves.
The Purchase:
We departed shortly after giving the horses a drink, and the gates closed behind us and locked, again by themselves. It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to get back to town, but I noticed that the team was lathered up when we pulled up at the Courthouse. There was a place behind it to leave the buggy, and we found an older black man sitting there when we alighted from the buggy.
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