#but i would be surprised if she completed a phd in 1900

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

i wish i was less nitpicky about terminology in books but why is the book i am currently reading trying to convince me this character is an "adjunct professor" in cambridge in the early twentieth century

[melmac78]

Of leather tooling and love

(Tag mini bang 2021)

Here’s my story for @tagminibang. I want to thank @tracybirds for their amazing art and working with me. Also, I thank them being extremely patient with learning about leather tooling and for adapting to the time zone difference to get this put together.

(I added my own art piece - “John’s” astronomy cuff… mark I, and will link directly to tracybirds’s art when I can fully figure this out).

•••••••

John Tracy was mad... so mad he was making an indelible mark that would take forever for someone to wipe away or cover up.

Fortunately it was leather, and he was tooling a design so no one would really want to cover it up, but he still was at points surprised he wasn't punching holes in the design… or the table.

A chirp however made him question the latter.

“John, please do not hit the table so hard. You are making my processors overload,” gently scolded EOS as the man was swinging the rawhide mallet.

While fortunately her interruption didn’t make him miss, allowing him to add to the octopus design, John set the leather tools down and sighed. “I’m sorry EOS,” he said gently.

“I accept your apology, but I do not understand why stamping cowhide will help your anger,” said the AI.

“As I said, it’s leather tooling, and it’s better to use my anger for something creative,” John said quietly.

“Even this … item?”

He looked at the cuff he was working on again and gave a half smile. “Even this wallet,” the astronaut chuckled.

After giving EOS a task to do, reminding her not to adjust the gravity back to zero to avoid any spills from his work, John looked at the project again.

He sighed, understanding his curious “data child’s” curiosity. Leather tooling, while a bit outdated in some people's eyes, was one of the few learned talents and gifts he still had from his Grandfather as well as his Dad.

And - it reminded him of Gordon, in good and bad times.

Gordon… his brother with the wacky sense of dress.

The aquanaut preferred to wear on average two leather bands and then a woven smaller band with the first two oyster pearls he found.

That's why he stopped - at the moment, it felt as though if he took out more anger on the mallet and metal stamping tool, he was hurting Gordon. Triple if he managed to hit it so hard it tore through the damp leather.

Who knew Gordon’s penchant for being the only one to wear leather wrist bands would save his life?

A week and a half prior... he chose to wear two broader bands on one arm and his usual one on his other.

They were nearly the width of a cuff, with designs that took forever to explain to EOS. It was an unusual decision, but one that the brothers were thankful Gordon made.

They had been called out to a rescue - a skyscraper fire in Houston, and all land based brothers had been called as it required high rise rescue.

Gordon had been on level 70 of the building, rescuing an unconscious woman. He had secured the victim in with his harness and started to use the pulley to get them to the top of the building for Thunderbird to lift them to safety.

An explosion had knocked them for a loop, smashing Gordon into the building.

Gordon took the brunt of the hit, slamming into the frame.

In spite of the helmet, he too was knocked out. Worse, the grapple slipped, and glass shards, still stuck in their mounts, sliced down his forearms.

It cut the neoprene... and through part of his thick leather cuffs.

When they recovered both victims, Virgil and John immediately triaged the two. She had a minor concussion and smoke inhalation.

Gordon however not only too had the bump on the head - thanks to the helmet taking the brunt, he also a dislocated shoulder, and a few cracked and broken ribs.

But what was the immediate concern at the time of the rescue was his arms, particularly the wrists. They took the brunt of the damage.

The leather bands however, saved his life. They made what would've been life threatening - if not fatal, slashes on his wrist to mostly superficial cuts.

The bands though were completely destroyed as far as wearability. Virgil would have to apologize for cutting them completely off - but not why - later.

Gordon was taken to a hospital in Houston's esteemed Medical Center, where he went through multiple surgeries, a few pints of blood, and lots of rest.

That was a week ago, as Gordon had a healing rib rebreak, nicking his lung. It was repaired, the bleeder stopped, but Gordon had to be put under sedation for a couple of days to ensure the site healed.

Though they had lifted the sedation the day prior and were waiting for Gordon to come out of it, the family would have to wait couple of days before he could return to Tracy Island.

That lead to where he was today.

John sighed, and looked around Thunderbird Five.

He had been practicing some leather tooling at University of Houston's art department.

That was before a space rescue needed both him and Alan, and afterword, he stayed on Five to keep apprised of a possible hurricane.

Well that and have an excuse to decline another lecture invite from NASA.

John was thankful that U of H understood his need for privacy, and that having a PhD in Aeronautics and Space allowed him some special favors.

The positive it included the use of one of the art studios to leather tool...

The negative? The trade off was as long as he also donated one of his famous astronomy tooled leather cuffs for a fundraiser.

He had already finished the band for the auction two days prior, complete with the antique leather dye, golden paint accents in the star constellations, and steampunk like swing hinge cuff. Not the easiest to make, especially setting the rivets for the cuff.

Worth it to John - small price to pay, but would reap rewards for U of H’s generosity. He’d bring it to them when he visited Gordon again.

The astronaut then looked at the octopus carved and stamped on the wallet. "It was too damn close," he said out loud, but at the same time, he was thankful. This was for Gordon later on.

John then smiled at the thought. It was indeed for his aquanaut brother, one they could’ve lost in that fire.

He was about to stamp the leather again... when a beep startled him.

The astronaut asked EOS to answer it, and the image of Virgil came out of the monitor.

"Gordon's come to," said Virgil.

"Fully?"

The older brother shrugged. "Mostly, but he should be fully alert by the time you get to the hospital," he said, then frowned. "He's asking about the leather bands... especially the one that was 'Mom's belt'."

John furrowed his brow.

Yes, that belt bracelet.

Fortunately the one bracelet Gordon hadn't worn that day.

Unfortunately, the one Gordon duplicated - with varying degrees of success, he did wear nearly daily.

John could imagine Gordon’s initial reaction… he’d feel the same way.

"Virgil, Gordon didn't wear that cuff that day," he said. "He intentionally put a small Thunderbird stamp on his so he didn't confuse the two."

Virgil nodded. "I know, but you know him and anesthetics... gives him the wrong memory if he's not goofy from it," he said, then chuckled. “Last time he was trying to feed Parker poster pancakes on the USS Lexington.”

John scoffed at the memory. "That one still has Parker perplexed," he said, then stood, stretching. "Try to talk him down from his confusion. I'll be there in a few minutes. I need to get something."

Virgil noticed John’s labors on the table and quirked an eyebrow. "What about the wallet you're working on?"

"It'll be fine. The leather can be dampened again to finish it up. I expected it to be a longer project over the bracelets I made at U of H,” he said, putting the stamping tool and mallet down.

The artist noticed John’s attempt to deflect, and his eyes twinkled in mischief. "So… how many projects did the University ‘con’ you out of for the auction this time?" said the artist with a teasing smirk.

He wasn't going to give his younger brother too much grief - he still owed the University at least one hand blown glass vase.

"Just the one - the astronomy cuff."

Virgil gave a soft whistle. "That one? You won't even make that one for me."

"Then bid on the one they're selling," snarked John as he cleaned up the rest of the leather tooling supplies.

Virgil merely laughed - yeah, he was going to bid if anything to help a department who helped his brother cope through this.

John then picked up a box wrapped in sea turtle wrapping paper. "I'll be there shortly,” he said walking to the space elevator.

“FAB.”

********

Gordon Tracy looked out the windows of his hospital room from his hovering hospital bed and signed.

He was thankful he wasn't stuck with a view of the generators. The hospital still hadn't gotten over teasing him - gently - about calling them "Donald Duck" in a post-anesthesia comment the other time he was there for an injury.

Here, it was a view of one of the garden parks the area had.

What he wasn't thankful for was the fact he lost the leather band that was made from his mother's belt.

He looked at the long bandages wrapped on his wrists and lower arms and sighed.

Sure, Virgil kept insisting it was not the band, but he knew his bracelets.

Yes, he had to admit they had to be fully cut off too keep him from bleeding out through his wrists - he knew one cut was still too close.

Still though... he had to concede if it was gone, it was his mother protecting him.

Even Scott had told him point blank it was the only time he was thankful Gordon had forgotten to take the bands off.

Rumor had it Scott was even considering consulting with Brains to create leather arm bracers.

His theory was if it worked for the cowboys in the 1800s and 1900s, why not the technological cowboys of today?

Gordon looked at the sky and smiled. "Thanks Mom for watching over both that woman and me," he said, then looked at the bands.

There were blood stains on them, which were not going to come out.

Sure, they could be dyed dark before being stored, most likely black, and he could have John help him there. That said, it was not going to matter when they had been made unwearable when Virgil cut them off.

There were the button and hole fixtures sure... but the aquanaut understood Virgil was going to slice first, apologize for saving Gordon's life later.

Blood loss didn’t wait for bracelets.

A knock at the door shook him out of his thoughts. "Come in," he said, adjusting the bed to where it floated back to connect with the main vitals scanner.

John entered and smiled at seeing his alert brother, the first time he'd been fully awake since before the accident.

"Hi Gordon, how are you feeling," he said, wincing slightly at the cliche.

His fish loving brother just smiled, but the astronaut didn't miss the sadness in the cinnamon colored eyes. "I'm having a whale of a time... too bad the lake below probably only has ducks," he said, chuckling slightly.

“Must be going ‘quackers’ then,” joked John, only to watch as Gordon fiddled with the remains of the bracelets. John coughed. "Gordon..."

"I know. They had to be cut off in order to save my life," the aquanaut said, sighing. "It's just... this was mom's - look at the paisley here..."

John put his hand over both his younger brother's and smiled. "It isn't the one made with Mom's belt, trust me,” he said, smiling, then pointing to a detail. "See? Here's the thunderbird stamp you used for yours."

Gordon took a closer look, and his eyes widened slightly.

John was right... it was indeed there, just had been cut in half by the cutting tools. Well he hoped so and not the glass, but that was a story left unsaid at the time.

"It's not mom's," the aquanaut whispered instead, tears of happiness flooding his eyes.

The astronaut smiled and gave his brother a gentle hug. "No it isn't. I made sure the one with Mom's was in the fire safe - just in case, on the Island before Alan brought me to the hospital," he said gently.

The two hugged gently for a while, the mix of hospital bluster and soothing sounds from the Muzak in the hallways mingling between the brother's hushed tones.

After a few minutes, Gordon sat up, and noticed the sea turtle box his brother was holding. "Funny looking NASA paper," the aquanaut teased, chuckling softly when John rolled his eyes.

He knew John tried to avoid the facility if possible.

Not because he didn't enjoy it, but because the last time he visited the center, Mission Control crowded him the point he fainted from the social claustrophobia.

Alan found it amusing.

EOS found it amusing to force Alan to eat freeze dried brussel sprouts and liver with onions meals every day his last rotation on Thunderbird Five for his "rude behavior."

Both men chuckled in the memory, and John handed his brother the box. "Nope, this is for you, a get well soon present," said he said.

Gordon carefully opened up the box, which John had purposely wrapped the two parts separately due to the shoulder being strapped, and gasped.

Inside were two bracelets.

One was similar to his mother's belt, but the paisley and flower design that was in his mom's band was adjusted slightly to include southwestern printed sea turtles and a squid stamp John had custom made. Like his mother's, it was dyed a medium brown.

The other... took Gordon's breath away.

The edges were done in a simple border - scalloped with the occasional octopus and sea turtle stamp in between the scallops. It was dyed mahogany.

It was mostly just border stamped... because the concho fastened in the center was the showstopper.

It was a golden sea turtle, swimming in the middle of a pewter center. “How?…”

Seeing Gordon's eyes water, John chuckled. "Yes, I remembered that concho. Had trouble finding it, but fortunately the store on the Sam Houston Tollway found one and put it aside for me," he said as he put a hand on his brother's uninjured shoulder.

Gordon put the box down and wiped away the tears with his good hand. "Got a bit of hand sanitizer in my eyes. Strong stuff," he said, and John scoffed.

"Yeah, sure... you want me to help put it on your … good wrist?" John said, and coughed when Gordon shot the arm out. "Whew... you weren't kidding on the hand sanitizer,” he laughed, waving the fumes away.

"Yeah... apparently it's 'essense of moonshine' I think. It probably kills germs 10 years before they’re born," Gordon smirked.

The bands fit perfectly, and had a simple button and hole fastener so the doctors or even Gordon could take it off with a push if needed.

John watched his brother admire the bracelet, even taking a few photos of the laughs and chuckles his brother made as he showed it off.

Gordon then paused and looked at John. "You made these right?" he inquired, looking at the antiqued looking band.

The astronaut nodded, and Gordon continued, grinning slightly in memory. "How many bands did the University get you to make in exchange for the use of the studio this time?"

"One - and before you ask, the astronomy one,” John said, touching a button on his baldric to ensure EOS didn’t talk about the wallet. She still had a proclivity to ruin surprises - especially if it was one of John’s younger siblings.

Gordon, knowing how much money usually got raised to but one of these bands, looked at the bands and then John. "Worth every cent," he said, smiling warmly as the nurse came in to check Gordon's vitals and bring dinner.

John took this as a note to head out, but before he left, he looked at his brother, who was bragging about the bracelet his older brother made.

And making it very clear how to take it on and off so this one was not cut off.

The astronaut gave a gentle wave to his brother. "I'll be back later," he said, and headed out.

Hearing the chuckles Gordon made again, John's smile broadened. "Yes, it was worth every single minute and cent to hear that laughter," John murmured, but it was priceless to have his brother saved by those other bands.

Now... how he was going to steal the remnants of the old bands to repurpose into a hippie cuff for Gordon was another story

[justallamaimaginingthings]

This Charming Man [Moder!Jorah Mormont x Reader]

Request: "Ay drug dealer can I get a fresh batch of Modern AU!Lord Mormont?" by @orderoftheflamingflamingos

A/n: Coffee Shop AU is just perfect for this case. I realized many of my imagines are named after song titles, oops. Hope you like it and thanks for requesting 💘

Words: 1900  || GoT Masterlist

Working in a small coffee shop in the heart of Edinburgh was not how you imagined your life after college would be. Unfortunately PhD's did not pay for themselves so you were forced to take a gap year in order to collect enough money that would finance you for at least the first few months. The fact that you were new to the country had seemed a bit frightening in the beginning but slowly you got used to the gloomy and yet majestic city and its habitants.

People were kind and friendly, especially as they made their orders and you had even come to know most of the regulars. Your life was going smoothly without any hint of drama or tension and you couldn't be happier about it. And then he walked in.

It was a specifically rainy day and you had lost the bus making you super late for your morning shift. Having run into the rain and cold caused your hair to end up in an absolute mess. It was that day the hottest and classiest man you had ever seen chose to enter your life. He was wearing a dark navy blue coat with a matching suit underneath. He sat down in a small table next to the window and pulled a book out of the leather briefcase he was carrying. Seeing how focused he seemed to be you were reluctant to interrupt him but you did either way.

"Good morning, what can I get you?" you asked politely hoping you didn't sound as nervous as you felt. There was something about that man that radiated calm and confident. The moment his stormy blue eyes met yours you could swear your heart skipped a beat. Never before had you seen such a capturing blue color, making his glance to seemingly pierce right through.

"A latte, please" he replied as his deep velvet voice send a small shiver down your spine.

"O-of course" you stutter mentally kicking yourself for your awkwardness. Usually you made the most amazing latte art, always causing a smile to form on customers' lips but knowing he was observing you, there was no chance your hands could be steady enough for that.

"There you go" you said leaving the hot cup of coffee on his table, a few minutes later.

"Thank you" he responded giving you a nonchalant smile. Soon, that became a routine, he'd come every day, sit on the same table and read. At first you didn't talk much but as days went by the two of you started chatting and getting to know each other and in no time there was no denying you had a huge crush on him. Jorah was always incredibly thoughtful and kind, never failing to make you laugh and lift your spirits.

Sometimes he would even wait for the end of your shift just so you could continue a conversation that had been interrupted way too many times. The two of you talked about all kind of things, but the one that stood out was literature. Never in your life had you seen someone having the same interest as you in the classics before meeting Jorah. The subject had come up when one day you saw him reading War And Peace, one of your favorites and had asked him about it.

After having been disinherited by his father, Jorah had left Edinburgh with no intentions of ever coming back and yet, years later, he was summoned back by the family lawyer only to be told his father had passed away without leaving any heir. Being back had been all but pleasant for Jorah, until he met you. Getting to see you every morning was the highlight of his day. Somehow he found himself unable to keep his thoughts away from you and all the feelings your soft smile caused him. At first he brushed those feelings off as mere excitement of having someone as young and beautiful as yourself around. However, he slowly started to notice it was much more than this. In the end it was your witty and intriguing personality that won him over.

Yesterday had been one of the most stressful days of his life and the results made themselves known the moment he opened his eyes in the form of a splitting headache. Mentally groaning, Jorah decided to ignore his body's way of demanding some peace and quiet and continued with his daily routine, making his way towards the familiar coffee shop.

"Morning, may I guess, the usual?" your cheery voice broke Jorah out of his thoughts. However, there was something different about him that day and you realized it the moment your eyes met his. Instead of replying he nodded in agreement prompting you to cock your eyebrow giving him a questioning look "Something's on your mind" you stated.

"It's just some family related stress, don't worry about it" he explained, but you knew there was more behind it.

"Want to talk about it?" you asked leaving down the trail you were holding and sitting next to him. Usually that conversation happened the other way round, as the blue eyed man had a way of understanding whenever something was troubling you.

"I wouldn’t want to impose on your time" he said despite wanting the exact opposite. Somehow talking to you always made him escape his problems and feel better. You could turn even the darkest days bright, with your sweet smile and comforting voice.

"Nonsense, just give me a second" you replied before getting up. A few moments later you returned without the signature green apron or the tray "It's sorted, I'm out for the day. How about we go for a walk and you can tell what's going on" you suggested and Jorah couldn't refuse the offer as a wide smile made its way to his face. He picked up his coat and followed you outside.

"You didn't have to do that, you know" he said feeling slightly guilty

"Jorah, you're always helping me through my problems I want to do the same" you explained reassuringly as you made your way to a nearby park and sat on a small wooden bench "So, what's going on?"

"My family and I haven't had the best of terms the past few years but after father's will was opened I have been running the family company. There were some bumps along the way but things finally smoothed out" Jorah explained trying to stray off details as much as he could. It wasn't that he didn't trust you, he was simply terrified you'd change your mind about him.

"I'm sorry about your father" you said, shocked that you didn't know about it sooner, as you placed your hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner causing Jorah's heart to flutter. In general you were a very touchy feely kind of person, for which Jorah couldn't be thankful enough as he enjoyed every single chance of physical contact that made his skin burn and his heart race.

"I hadn't seen him in a long time" Jorah added, brushing it off "The problem is my niece returned to town. She categorically despises me and to be honest, I don't I really blame her. Nonetheless, it reminds me of the person I was back when I lived here and the mistakes that person had made. I have greatly tried to let go of the past" there was a great amount of sadness hidden behind his blue eyes, finally coming out after being pent up way too long.

"I don't know what happened between you and your family, but I know who you are, Jorah. No matter what you've done in the past, that's exactly what it is, the past. You're a great person with a good heart, you only have to show her that. You deserve a second chance" you argued looking into his eyes. Seeing you defend him like that gave Jorah a newfound sense of confidence while the fact that you believed in him was enough to make a spark of hope light up in his heart.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked and it was the first time you ever saw him acting so vulnerable seeing that usually he was the most collected and put together person you knew.

"Of course I do, Jorah. You've been nothing but a great support to me. And I refuse to believe a person who loves War and Peace so much to be a bad person" you added chuckling which caused him to mirror the action as a slight laugh escaped his lips "Your niece will come around, just give her time to see who you are now"

"Lyanna may not be as forgiving as you are, but that can work" Jorah was about to say something else before your eyes widened in shock.

"Lyanna Mormont as in the youngest MIT graduate? I knew I had heard the name before. Lyanna is your niece? But I've heard she came from a noble family. Wait are you…?" your mind was struggling to wrap up around the facts causing a bemused smile to light up Jorah's features at your adorably confused expression.

"Lord Jorah Mormont of House Mormont" he introduced himself formally, deep down enjoying the way your jaw dropped in surprise.

"W-what?" there was a ton of questions running through your mind in the speed of light as it all clicked together. His sharp appearance and formal vocabulary, the love he held for classic literature and the way he seemed to know everything about the city, everything made sense.

"Precisely" he agreed nodding positively.                                        

"So, you live in Mormont Manor? I've heard you can see the whole city from the balconies, is that true?" you asked enthusiastically. It was no secret you had heard a lot about that place.

"Indeed it is" he replied and that was when it hit you that you were completely missing the point.

"I'm bubbling aren't I? I'm sorry for intruding" you apologized suddenly feeling like you had overstepped a line.

"It's perfectly fine. Besides, I'd like to suggest something, my cousin Maege is holding a celebration for Lyanna's return and I hoped having someone with me would help making it worth suffering through" he suggested trying not to let his nervousness show. If he wanted to be honest if it weren't for you, he would find a way to skip the whole event despite knowing it would only make the situation worse. Maybe, with the right company, there was a chance to make the most of it though.

"You mean like a date?" you asked before you could stop yourself, instantly feeling your face burning by the intense blushing.

"A date, indeed" Jorah agreed giving you a heartwarming smile

"I'd loved to" you replied mirroring the action with one of your own.

That was the last thing you expected to come out of this day and yet you couldn't be happier. Jorah had come to mean a lot to you and seeing that he trusted you with something as serious as that meant a lot. Upon seeing the look in his eyes, you couldn’t help noticing a hint of excitement and maybe something more, something you'd go as far as to call affection. All in all, you couldn’t wait until Saturday…

[scatteredenthusiasticwriter]

Rag Doll

Sarah sat on a flat back chair from the 1800s and her elbows were resting on an antique dining table from the 1900s. Her long brown hair hung down, covering her face, while she scrutinized a cameo brooch trying to date it for a client. Antiques acquired over the years surrounded her with history. Sarah was so involved inspecting the brooch she didn’t hear the bell ring when the door to her little shop opened.

“Dr. Miles?” Sarah looked up and her face emerged as her dark black hair parted. Her glasses had a magnifying glass attached to each lens. Standing before her was a tall, lanky man wearing a black suit. He looked like a G-Man from the Prohibition Days. “Dr. Sarah Miles?” Sarah nodded in acknowledgement.

“My name is James Murray. I am with the law firm Finch Bellows Marten. I am sorry to tell you this, but, your uncle Benjamin Miles passed away a few weeks ago. The reading of his will is tomorrow at noon at my office on the corner of Main and 5th. I apologize for the late notice.”

“I am surprised my Uncle Benjamin included me in his will. We didn't speak to each other for years. We were at an estate sale years ago, engaged in a fierce bidding war for a rare seventeenth century vase. He won the bid. I never forgave him,” directing her attention back to the brooch.

“I am sorry to hear that. Your Uncle’s three children will be in attendance also," reaching the letter out to her. Sarah accepted the letter and tossed it towards the pile of unread mail teetering at the edge of the table.

James Murray turned and walked towards the door leaving Sarah mumbling to the brooch. He then exited the shop.

Sarah reached for the letter and opened it with a dagger shaped letter opener. The letter said, Sarah Miles is named in the will of Benjamin Miles. We ask that you attend the reading of his last will and testament. 

Could he be leaving me that vase? Curiosity got the better of her and decided to attend the reading.

     # # #

“It’s noon, shouldn’t we start? I can’t wait around to hear what the old man left me,” Lydia stated while pacing.      

“That’s if he left you anything. Dad told me I will always be his favorite, even after he’s gone," Elizabeth said. 

“Enough from the both of you vying for the top position. What does it matter? The fact is he’s gone, never to return, thank God," stated John.

James Murray shifted papers, uncomfortable with the conversation. There was a knock then the Sarah stepped inside. The three cousins looked at each other, mouths agape. Making no eye contact, Sarah walked to the back of the room and sat down.

“What the hell is she doing here? I thought this was a private reading for family only," Elizabeth bellowed.

Lydia agreed adding, “You’re not family. When was the last time you saw or spoke to my father? Ahh yes, it was at that auction where you lost out winning the vase. It looks very nice on Dad’s mantle.”

Sarah shifted in her seat hoping this would be over soon.

James began,“Today we are reading the last will and testament of Benjamin Miles.” 

John interrupted, “Skip all the legal gibberish and get to the bequeathed part.”

James inhaled, then exhaled, “I, Benjamin Miles, being of sound mind and body do bequeathed the following. To my daughter Lydia, I leave her a set of china that belonged to my great grandmother, and $5,000. To my daughter Elizabeth, I leave my rare collection of bottles, and $6,000. To my son John, I leave my Volkswagen Beetle and $1.00. To the local museum I leave all my antiques. To my niece Sarah, you never forgave me for winning the bid on the seventeenth century vase.  I am giving you that vase along with my curio cabinet and any and all items contained within.”

“Wow, I thought John got cheated. Looks like Sarah wins the prize for the most cheated. I have no doubt you will research that cabinet to death," Lydia said. 

“Hopefully your PhD in History pays off. Maybe there is hidden treasure inside," laughed Elizabeth.

# # #

Sarah instructed the delivery men to place the curio cabinet against the wall in the living room. Sarah tipped the movers and escorted them to the door, locking it behind her. She stood in front of the dark wooden cabinet, her fingers gliding along every smooth inch. When Sarah opened the framed glass door, something jumped on her shoulder and propelled into the cabinet, sending tingles of fear down her spine. Milo, you silly cat, get out of there before you scratch it. Milo sniffed and pawed at a spot in the center of the shelf, until Sarah pulled him out. What did you find? Using her fingers, as though reading braille, she glided them around. She discovered an indent, circular in shape like a quarter sized button. She pushed down on it. Without warning, the bottom panel of the cabinet shot open hitting both of her shins, causing her to yell and jump backwards into Milo, sending him running. There were stories going around the antique community about a handful of curio cabinets, built in the1800s, having secret drawers. Her smile broadened as she gazed upon at. 

The drawer contained a skeleton key, an old newspaper dated 1878, and a rag doll. The headline read, The Town of Goldchester’s Mysterious Illness Targets All Its Young Girls. The next story was about a young girl named Sally Monroe who died in a gold mine collapse also in Goldchester. Sarah read when the town’s people dug her out, she was cradling her rag doll, fingertips bloodied and black. She fully opened the paper and an envelope fell to the floor. It contained a deed to a house in Goldchester, Arizona. 

# # #

The cab driver waiting outside of Sarah’s shop honked twice. Sarah emerged juggling her suitcase and a well worn brown leather briefcase. The driver placed the suitcase in the trunk and reached for the briefcase. “I got this one," Sarah insisted then sat in the backseat. The briefcase held the skeleton key and the deed. The cab driver shrugged his shoulders. He closed the trunk, got into the cab and drove Sarah to the airport.

The plane landed with a thud, startling her. She set her watch back two hours to adjust the time difference from Massachusetts. She exited the airport and right into Arizona’s dry heat. A cab pulled in front of her and she got in, instructing the driver to take her to the Goldchester Bed & Breakfast. After a twenty minute ride, the cab slowed and pulled over in front of a two story building with a wrap around porch and a two seater swing. Sarah tipped the driver and collected her suitcase. She climbed the three creaky wooden steps and entered the Bed and Breakfast.

Sarah hit the gold bell on the counter. From the back appeared a stout woman wearing an apron covered with flour. 

“Welcome. You must be Sarah Miles. I’m Haddie Wilcox. Been expecting you.Your room is ready, handing Sarah the key. Second floor, first door on the right. Dinner is at 6:00pm sharp," Haddie said returning to the back.

Sarah climbed the stairs and entered her room. She placed the suitcase on the bed and headed back out to find the Town Hall, briefcase in hand. Unsuccessful in her search for information, Sarah walked the few blocks to the house. She stood in front of 111 Miners Circle, a quaint little blue two story house with a white picket fence and white shutters.

Sarah used the skeleton key to unlock the door. She stepped inside to find the entire bottom floor completely furnished with white sheets covering each piece. Sarah removed the white sheets from a couch, two Queen Anne chairs, and a writing desk she dated around 1825. She spied a curio cabinet in the corner, her eyes widening in disbelief. The curio cabinet looked exactly like hers. Sarah walked over to the cabinet and opened the glass framed door, thankful there was no cat this time. Sarah glided her fingers across the shelf, discovering the indent. This time she stepped back as she pushed down on the button. The bottom panel opened, just like hers, revealing the same newspaper, but this time it contained a gold key. The room turned cold as ice. An even colder breeze circled around Sarah, causing her to shiver. Sarah snatched up the newspaper, the gold key, and threw the rag doll into the briefcase as she ran out of the house.

Haddie, and her young daughter Laura, were waiting at the table when Sarah rushed in, out of breath. She apologized for being late. Haddie smiled and passed the chicken and gravy. After dinner, Sarah and Haddie retired to the living room to have coffee.

“Haddie, back home I found a deed and skeleton key in a hidden drawer inside the curio cabinet I inherited from my Uncle Benjamin. I went to Town Hall today for information but the house doesn’t have much history. The address is 111 Miners Circle, so I went there and to my surprise, the skeleton key opened the door. Inside I found a curio cabinet, just like the one back home, that has the same hidden drawer. It too contains the same old newspaper with the story about Sally Monroe, who died in a gold mine that collapsed. When they dug her out she was still cradling her rag doll. The rag doll in both papers looks exactly like this one". Sarah held the rag doll out to Haddie.

Haddie gasped, “Did you say your Uncle’s name was Benjamin? Benjamin Miles?”

Sarah nodded. “Oh my, his grandfather, your great grandfather also named Benjamin was the one who found Sally. Story has it that Benjamin was more of a grandfather to Sally than her own. She would visit often to see the rag doll inside the curio cabinet. During one visit Benjamin gave Sally the rag doll. Oh, how she loved that doll.  After the funeral, Sally’s mother gave Benjamin the rag doll back as a reminder of Sally. Shortly after Sally’s death, young girls in town began getting sick with strange symptoms. The girls complained of a heaviness on their chest.  Their skin dried like a mummy’s skin and their fingertips turned black. Each girl cried out for their doll while gasping for air. No one could figure out why each girl cried out for their doll before they passed. The town lost every young girl that year.”

Sally asked, “Was the cause ever discovered?” Haddie shook her head.

The following morning, Sarah walked back to the house, taking her briefcase containing the rag doll with her. As she approached the house, she thought she saw faces staring down at her from each window. Sarah entered a bone chilling house. All the furniture was upside down, the white linens rolled and twisted into a large rag doll. Sarah’s briefcase started shaking. She opened it and watched the rag doll convulse. She shut the briefcase with shaking hands and ran for the door. As she reached for the handle the door slammed shut. She heard children’s laughter and running overhead. Sarah’s curiosity overshadowed her fear. She stood tall, and after taking a few long breaths that could be seen, she climbed the stairs. The doors on the second floor opened and slammed shut repeatedly, all except for one. Sarah approached the unopened door when something touched her, chilling her to the bone. 

“What do you want?” Sarah shouted. The landing swayed throwing her off balance. She tried to run but the stairs got further away with each step. Her chest felt like a heavy weight was on it, causing her to fall, then her finger tips turned blood red, then black. Sarah watched in horror as the skin on her arms shriveled, shrouding her bones. She began gasping for air as she cried out, “Sally stop.”

The walls heaved as though breathing. The door in front of her swing open revealing a blinding light. At its center a silhouette appeared. Sarah attempted to get up but the weight held her hostage. The silhouette glided towards her, the blinding light blown out like a candle. The white silhouette swayed like a sheer curtain in the breeze. Sarah watched as more silhouettes came into focus. Young girls now encircled Sally.

Sally’s face began to distort, blood red eyes glowing. She ascended, weightless arms outstretched, and with a deafening scream, demanded her Maggie be given back. Sally plunged down onto Sarah pinning her in place. The girls were now screaming for Maggie to be returned. Sarah nodded in fear, hoping they understood. Sally rose, allowing Sarah to get up. She ran down the stairs, but, at the bottom Sally blocked the path, her distorted face aflame. 

“I have your doll. Please, let me get it.” Sarah pleaded. 

Sally glided aside. Sarah ran to her briefcase and pulled the rag doll out. Sally was instantly upon her and snatched the doll from her hands and began cradling it. Sarah watched as Sally and the girls rejuvenated into themselves again.

They motioned for Sarah to follow them upstairs. The once closed door now opened, revealing a white light bright as a star. Sarah watched as each girl entered the light, waving goodbye as they disappeared. Sally remained. 

“I am so happy to have Maggie back. I missed her so. I took the young girls from town to help me find my Maggie. You brought Maggie home,” Sally said with a contented smile as she walked to Sarah and kissed her on the cheek. Sally made her way towards the light. As she entered, the light folded into itself engulfing Sally, then darkness. 

Sarah went downstairs and noticed a glow coming from the corner of the room. It was the gold key. A faint voice whispered in her ear, “Go to the painting of your family.” 

Confused, Sarah walked over to a painting of her great grandfather and Uncle Benjamin. This is my ancestor’s house? She tried to take the painting off the wall then noticed the hinges. She pulled the picture aside, revealing a wall safe. Sarah used the gold key to open the safe and was flabbergasted at what was inside.

# # #

The wall safe contained some of the gold Sally’s father mined. He gave it to Sarah's Great Grandfather Benjamin as a way of thanking him for trying to save Sally. The gold was now worth $500 Million.

The cork popped off of the Dom Perignon hitting the ceiling then bounced back in front of Milo. He jumped and ran. Sarah raised her Champagne filled glass thanking her uncle. 

“I guess I was your favorite after all.”