were no other doors, who had been moving around?
To do what? No one had come down the stairs. "Hello?'" I called, wondering if someone was
deeper in the room, perhaps behind some costuming.
There was no response. I walked in further and then
followed the aisle on my right, past the rows of
costumes organized by century and style, from the
Middle Ages to the Roaring Twenties, with lots more
from other eras and styles on the opposite side of the
room.
I reached the rear of the room and started to go
around the other side in order to return to the doorway
when I saw what I realized was another door, behind a
pair of gowns that looked like they could have been
worn by Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind. Where did this door go? It had a key in the
lock. Why was it practically hidden from sight, I
wondered. and I lifted the gowns away to turn the lock
and then try the knob. It turned, but the door opened to another door. Still curious. I put my ear to that door and listened. I thought I could hear someone singing to the music of what sounded like a mandolin. I knew
the sound well. It was a form of lute.
"Who's in here?" I heard, and spun around to
see Laura Fairchild in the doorway. She seemed to
swell in the doorway, her neck stretching, her eyes
beaming with rage.
As quietly as I could. I closed the door, locked
it again and stepped out into the aisle.
"Honey? What are you doing here?" she
demanded.
"I was just curious," I said. "I heard about the
costumes and wanted to see them."
"I've already instructed Howard and Cinnamon
not to touch anything in here again until they are told