The wind had picked up in severity in the forty-five minutes since Gael had taken me to his room to make love. The howling sound was eerie. Like every other time we were intimate with each other, our connection deepened for each other.
There was a storm room beneath the staircase, similar to his parents. Briefly, once before, Gael had shown me where it was. But having grown up around storm shelters, I’d simply glanced in and moved on.
About five minutes ago as we grabbed a few last-minute things, the power had flickered off as the intensity of the storm increased. Gael had a generator that kicked on for the fridge, freezer unit, and wine cooler. A chef would be concerned about the food. Internally, I’d laughed.
Gael opened up the storm room door. It wasn’t as high tech as his parents had been with the automatic door. A huge crack sounded outside of the house.
I yelped and Gael turned. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, let’s get in the storm room. I hate the cracking sound of branches.”
Gael nodding. It was close to the sound of fireworks and sent shivers down my back. Lightning flashed and spilled through the cracks in the storm shutters Gael and I had put up earlier in the day. Thunder rumbled loudly, making its presence known, alerting us to the impending storm.
Rain pelted the house. We walked into the storm room and Gael left the door cracked open.
“Let me get the lantern going so we can see around in here since the power is out. Stay put, sweetheart.”
Gael moved past me. A few seconds later, light illuminated the small room. It was semi-long and rectangular. On the right, a plastic twin mattress on a steal frame was in the corner. A small metal table with four chairs sat a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed.
A small cabinet sat two feet across from the bed. Pointing to the cabinet, Gael explained. “These have food rations if the generator was to fail or we couldn’t get to the fridge, batteries, radio, first-aid kits, and more. Make yourself at home. I’ll get the radio going. We may have to stay the night in here depending on the aftereffects of the storm.”
“I like how you guys did your shelter. Aunt Leelyn has one but it only has two benches that line the walls. We’ll actually get to sleep if we can’t leave.”
“Among other things.” The pit of my stomach warmed at Gael’s suggestive words. “Let me get some sheets on the bed.”
I nodded my head and grabbed the pillowcases from the cabinet shelf. Turning back I saw an old antique desk that had been behind me. I’d missed it on my initial look and when Gael had first shown me in here.
“Gael, what is that desk doing in here? It’s beautiful.”
I walked up to it as I let my appreciation for antiques I’d obtained from Aunt Leelyn show as I caressed the old wood. No doubt it was from the late eighteen hundreds to early nineteen hundreds.
Looking back at Gael, he looked at the desk with disinterest. “What, that old desk? Mom and Dad brought it in here when they lived in the house. It fits and stores stuff so I never thought to move it.” Gael shrugged and unfolded the comforter before laying it on the bed.
I ran my hands along the ornate trim. Whoever had manufactured this desk had done a resplendent job with the craftsmanship. Everything was seamless.
An idea occurred to me. I’d only seen my Aunt Leelyn do this twice. Both times the lever had been underneath the desk. Aunt Leelyn said there were also discrete buttons for the more advanced version. Pulling the chair out, I lay on the wood floor and scooted myself underneath. The weathermen spoke in the background from the radio I assumed Gael had turned on.
“Ashlin, what are you doing?”
I ran my hands along the smooth wood feeling for any indentation. “Looking for a lever or a button.”
“A what?”
Continuing my methodical search, I answered. “From the looks of the desk, I would guesstimate it was made in the late eighteen hundreds or early nineteen hundreds. There’s a marking on here of some sort that would indicate the craftsman and we’d be able to tell for sure. But, I’m looking for the lever or the button on the desk. It was common back then to put a safe vault in the desks for people to hide their most secret documents. If this one has it, chances are a drawer will pop out from the ornate carvings. The craftsmen were so good at hiding them, that unless you knew it was there, it’s nearly impossible to spot.”
Gael crouched in front of the desk, watching me with interest. The storm continued to gain in strength from the outside. My fingers kept feeling the ultra-smooth wood until a small indention ran past my right forefinger.
Finding the center of the indention, I pressed it and was rewarded with a spring loaded popping noise. My heart raced. I loved finding new things that had never been charted before. It was rare, but my love for history was ingrained deep.
“I think it’s there along the bottom.” Gael pointed to the floor.
Giving an excited little scream, I reached for it, then remembered myself. “You should do it. It’s your family’s heirloom.”
“No, sweetheart. This is all you.”
I reached down to the drawer and pulled it out. An old leather binder that was tied together lay in the bottom of the small drawer. I rubbed my hands along the two engraved letters and willed it to be true as I looked at the journal.
Daniel Stowe. Gael was behind me, “Ashlin, shit. You may have found Daniel’s diary.”