Part 23

     The third photo is a more casual image – very blurry, I doubt it was taken by a professional. But it looks like it was taken in the garden, or in a garden, or a park, anyway. I think it's Avery, a little younger, maybe eight or so? He's sitting near a pretty iron bench, with his arms wrapped tightly around a dog's neck. The dog must be Rollie, it's large and black, with a little splash of white at it's throat. I can only make out part of the boy's face, as he's laying his head against the dog's neck, but when I flip the image over, I see the name on the back: “Avery Mason and dog, taken by Phillip Nestor. 1890s.” The image overall is fairly dark, very low contrast, though I can just make out the dappled shadows from tree leaves overhead. I can pretty well re-imagine the scene in my mind, filling in the colors and the actual lighting, and it's a lovely summer sort of image.
     That's it for the Masons in this folder – no, that's right, Susan said there were unidentified images in the back of the folder. Since no-one else... no-one else alive now knows what Meres looks like. That's an eerie thought. But I might be able to pick the family out, as I know them a little more personally than the town historians do!
     It seems this is the section where the group photos are, as well – makes sense, it seems there's no group photo without at least a couple of question marks. Skimming through, I pause at a photo of a garden party – it looks like – oh, it is the Mason's garden! Cora stands in the middle of a group of other women. Flipping the photo over, I can see that some have been identified, others not. Cora has been, and a few other names I don't recognize. I turn it back over, to spend another moment looking at the photo. Those dresses look so uncomfortable, it's insane. But Cora seems to be the center of attention – the image isn't very sharp, I'm actually impressed at how spontaneous of an image it is. It looks like the women are all standing around, some with small china plates of food, some with glasses, talking. Some of their faces are eerie blank blurs – I suppose they turned their heads while the photo was being taken. Cora is relatively clear, and so, of course, are the flowers. There are huge bushes surrounding the group of women, and it looks like they're standing on that large tile area I've seen, with the patterned tiles.
     I don't find any more of interest in this folder, and move onto the next. Nothing in the M section, and... no, nothing in the unidentified section, either. I suppose that's not surprising, these images cover the years 1900-1920, the Masons would have only been in town those first two years. While I'm sure there would have been more photographs taken of the family, more formal shots of the children if nothing else, those would have been kept by the Masons themselves, and were probably lost in the fire. I suppose they may have rescued some of them in their flight, as it seems they had a few minutes at least to gather things before escaping the house, but those would be with their descendants out in... wasn't it New Mexico or something, that the current owner of the property lives in? I wonder... would he have anything more of theirs? Or know any more of their story? I'm sure he wouldn't know much about their lives at the time they lived in this house, I probably know more than he would, but... what did the family become after they left this town? Did Evelyn get married? Avery? Which of them had children? Did Avery need to find work to support the family – for that matter, did Evelyn--- no, I don't think she would have gone to work outside the home, I feel like it was still pretty rare for women to do so at that time. Anyway, the family clearly had money. Avery managed to pull something from the family safe before the house burned, and I'm sure there would have been bank accounts and things. With Mr. Mason presumed dead, all of that would have been turned over to Cora, I would imagine.
     Oh, so much speculation! I wish I had any chance of finding out more... maybe I'll go nose around one of those genealogical websites or something, see if I can find anything.
     Sighing, I rub at my eyes, and look around the room. I can tell by the light just filtering through the window that it's getting near closing hour for the hall. I scoop up the folders, careful not to drop any of the loose photos I've pulled, and peek out into the hall, listening for the sound of a copy machine and/or Susan.
     It's hard to miss the sound of the copier, and Susan's loud chatter over it. Following the sound, I'm not surprised to find myself peeking my head into a small room adjacent to the main office I first found Susan in. She's now standing at a large, modern-looking digital copier, and though Claire is nowhere in sight, her voice sounds clearly from the next room.
     “You just hit the---”
     “I know, I know! Oh, it's going to-- no, no wait, I've got it! I know exactly what I'm doing now!” Susan holds aloft a fresh print, grinning, and as she turns to wave it in the doorway to the next room, catches sight of me. “Oh! Kimber! Not to worry, the situation is under control.”
     I giggle at this. “I can tell.”
     “Well. Here's the first one – I had to switch out our cheap generic paper for the nicer photo paper, but it's all set now. The rest will be ready for you in a minute. You found a few more? Excellent.” She reaches for the folders in my hands, and I pass them over.
     “Can I help at all?”
     “Nope! I've got it now. Was there anything else you wanted a look at while you're here? I'll only be a few minutes, you're welcome to just have a seat if you want to wait.”
     “Actually... is the map guy here today? I can't for the life of me remember what his name is.”
     “I'm not surprised! He doesn't think of a thing but his maps, I'm sure he never even thought to tell you his name, or ask for yours. That would be Ed Josephson. And, yes, I'm sure he's here. We usually have to drag him bodily out of the building at closing.”
     Which reminds me – I look around the room, and spot a clock on the wall. Four-thirty, not so bad. I have time to pop up for a quick question without keeping anyone late.
     “I was just curious about the borders of the Mason property, I figured he'd be the one to ask.”
     “Most definitely – you go on ahead, I'll get your copies all settled for you in the meantime.”
     “Thanks again!”
     I head up the hallway and a flight of stairs, generally remembering where I found his office before. There is, actually, a name outside the door, which I suppose I saw last time, though it evidently didn't stick in my mind. I knock at the half-open door.
     “C'mon in – just watch your step.”
     I step tentatively around the door, and instantly see why I was given the warning. If I thought the maps were all over the place the last time I was here... well, clearly, I underestimated the possibilities. I look across the floor, searching for a safe path, and... there's definitely no way to get anywhere. I look up at Ed, and my expression must be pretty hopeless looking, because he laughs and apologizes.
     “Sorry, young lady! I wasn't expecting visitors today – but no, no, you're not interrupting anything but me cleaning up my own mess. Just hand me that satellite map at your feet there, and you should be clear to make it to the chair.”
     I do as instructed, and he carefully folds the map as I take a seat.
     “So, what can I help you with today? You were the one that wanted to know about the area around the old Mason place, right?”
     “Yep! Kimberly Bennett – Kimber,” I offer, reaching out a hand.
     “Ah! You've been talking with the girls downstairs, and they told you about my bad habit with names, didn't they?”
     I grin, nodding. “Afraid so.”
     “Well.” He takes my hand and shakes it once firmly. “Edward Josephson – but just call me Ed, it's too darn long of a name otherwise.”
     “I was actually wondering if you had an idea of the outlines of the Mason property. I know you showed me a map last time I was here, but I'd like to take a closer look at where all it extends – or, extended – to.”
     “Certainly!” He's already rummaging through piles, having started the instant I said the name “Mason”. “You've been back there, then? Find the house yet?”
     I laugh at this. “To put it mildly! I've walked through the gardens about a dozen times now, and it wasn't long before I found the ruins of the house. I've been doing some more research, on the house and the family – working on a series of drawings, when I have time.” It sounds so calm and normal to word it like this, when really, it's become a full-time obsession. Even when I'm at work, my mind constantly wanders back to Evelyn and her family. I keep bringing home little doodles of compositions and poses drawn on the back of receipt paper snagged out of the cash registers.
     “Mm-hmm...” While I suspect he completely understands the obsession angle, his tone indicates that he's less interested in some young whippersnapper's attempt at “Art”. “Ah! There we are.” He carefully lays a map on top of the million other maps on what I assume is his desk. I recognize it as the very old map he showed me last time. He leans down close to the half-faded ink lines, and I move my chair closer and lean forward as well – though I make sure to stay out of his way.
     “Let's see... the Mason place is over here. There's the stream, and the old road...” His finger traces the air just above the old yellow paper. “Here we are – this dotted line here, that shows the borders of the property. It fades in and out, but you can get a fairly good idea.”
     I lean closer, trying to match up the faint lines with the areas I've walked over a hundred times. “Right...”
     He picks up on my uncertainty. “Well, now that's Central Avenue right there. Walnut, which didn't exist at the time, probably runs about here. You live nearby there, don't you?”
     I nod. “Apartments on Watercress.”
     “Right! Those would be... let's see, I think they'd sit right about here. That look to be about the right distance from the creek to you?”
     I squint a little, then let my eyes glaze a little, trying to match up the lines with the images in my head. “I think so, yeah...”
     “The Mason property line runs clear out past there – it looks like your apartment is on land that used to be theirs. I can double-check that on a newer map, I don't know if the family leases that area, or if they sold it at some point in the past to a developer.”
     I scan lightly around the rest of the property line, just to get a general idea of how far it extends. And it looks like I was right – there's no way the fence encloses an area that large, it looks like they definitely bought up the land for at least a half-mile, a mile in some places, around the house's location, to ensure their continued privacy.
     “Do you have any idea what year this map was made?”
     “Somewhere near the end of the 1800s, maybe early 1900s. The only thing we have to go on is the style of handwriting – it's a different kind of paper from what was usually used for newspapers and things, so it's tough to match up.”
     So much for figuring out if it was Meres or Mr. Mason who purchased the extensive plot shown on the map – either would be possible. Meres may have only enclosed the area he felt they needed for the homestead, or Mr. Mason may have bought more beyond the fence just to keep neighbors from happening.