Set in Stone: The Rose Secret

Chapter 9: No Light 🔌

I reached the basement door. Below led a crooked flight of stairs that led to the stone floor. The planks were wet and mushy and were barely able to hold my weight. Hence the hazards I would be risking, I crept downwards. Like in horror movies the steps creaked as my weight shifted with each step.

After reaching the bottom, I reached for the lamp cord to plug it in. The light it gave off was weary and lit the room so dim I could only see shadows of objects. A gigantic framed painting of a man was leaning up against the wooden credenza where the flashlights were. The mans stone cold eyes were staring me down.

The man in the picture was quite recognizable. He was like a royal to the Rose family. Henry Luther Rose the fourth. He was at the very top of our family tree painting in the hall which his column wrote, Born December 29th 1817. Died April 9th 1903. In the picture Henry was sitting on a stool. He had a patch of light brown hair on his chin and tufts on hair sprouting on either side of his balding head. His olive shaped eyes mischievously peering out at what would have been the painter. He wore a marigold top hat and royal red robes. It seemed as if I was looking at a royal king.

Unfortunately Henry's big head covered the drawers where the flashlights were. The frame was taller than I was and probably weighed twice as much.

I looked around. Just as I spotted a basket of candles, the lighting started to flicker. I spun around. The tall lamp was repeatedly turning on and off. When the light stopped I was surrounded by darkness. I shivered. Why did I have to get the flashlights everyone knew I was afraid of the dark. I reached out touching every thing around me trying to find the lamp cord.

My fingers sprawled across an object, to my surprise it was hot. Hairs prickled at the back of my neck. What was something hot doing down here when everything else was stone cold? I reached for the warm object again as a streak of courage flashed in my mind.

I felt around until I could feel an upside down u shaped figure on a long skinny pole. A sigh of relief hit me. The lamp. I felt around some more for the long cord. I found it, but instead of being plugged in it was laying on the floor. I pressed it back into the outlet and it sprung to life. The light brighter than before. My mind tried to deny the fact that it got unplugged. I continued to get the flashlights.

I pushed on the painting so it would stand up just enough to fit my hand in. I grasped a wad of items and flung my hand out of harms way. In my hands were two medium sized flashlights, a couple old pop openers, car fresheners and crumples of newspaper.