The city’s elite and powerful had long since migrated to country estates and inner-city lofts leaving the neighborhood to the upper middle class and those who had planned their retirements well. While a good number of the expansive homes showed the neglect that often accompanies the absence of full-time gardeners and caretakers, this particular house, with it’s perfectly manicured lawns and shrubbery could have as easily graced the pages of a home and garden magazine today as in it’s prime in the early 50’s. In fact, it seemed to Carl that as he had passed through the front gate, he had entered a time capsule, and the only thing that had changed since 1979 was him. The last time he had passed up this walkway, his sneakers had left his footsteps nearly undetected, and his button-fly levis and rugby shirt, had not emitted the casual swish that slacks of his Hugo Boss suit and tailor made shirt did on this day. As a painfully shy and meek boy of 17 though, Carl had treasured his. Her words were lamentations of her despair at ever crossing that portal to the contentment she knew was only attainable by her through suffering. She told him her entire life was a preparation for this suffering. With those words Rebecca convinced him of her resolve to bear the sufferings of the cross. So it was arranged for her to come to his house the next week on Saturday at seven in the morning. He told her what to pack since she should plan on staying the night after her ordeal was over. Rebecca could not wait for the days to pass. Finally Saturday arrived. She was up at five to prepare herself for what she knew would be the most momentous day in her life. She had made her vows to meet the cross on its terms years ago; today she would honor that commitment. She arrived several minutes early. He greeted her at the door and conducted Rebecca to the basement. The entrance to the chamber was against the back wall of his basement, just to the left of the oil tank. Since the ceiling.
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