The Story of the Castle (Part I)

At different times in these tales I have referenced our tiny castle, which looks much like the

one pictured above save for slightly less stonework, but I don't believe that the true story of its origins has ever been told in this space. Today we will change that...

Once upon a time, a handsome couple madly in love found a cheap apartment in the quiet hamlet of Danvers, a town without an overdose of personality save its town motto, which is A+ awesome: Danvers: A town founded in 1777-- The King Unwilling. Coming back to the story now, this particular couple lived in relatively peaceful bliss for a year before tragedy struck.

We had lived for cheap money in an excellent little apartment cozily tucked into one of the ugliest houses in the entire town of Danvers. No, really... I'm not exaggerating (I never exaggerate). It had broken windows -- one courtesy of moi... it's a long story that involves panicking while being trapped inside the apartment with smoke billowing out of the kitchen-- and wavy old school asbestos siding. To top it off, there was a life-sized wooden silhouette of a man that stood next to the mailbox on the front steps. We were pretty sure it was there to scare anyone from actually using the front entrance, because the stairs sagged so bad when you walked on them that I was pretty sure that one day we were just going to come home and find someone trapped half-through the deck boards. To our knowledge, the only person that used that entrance with any regularity was the realtor that would later break into our apartment to show it because she forgot to give us notice, but that postdates this part of our story.

The house was owned by the parents of our upstairs neighbors-- or more accurately, the husband of the husband-and-wife who lived there, a detail that is only important to our little tale because he unexpectedly passed away at work one morning with no health warnings whatsoever. Without taking away from the incredible shock that that was, within two days the parents put the house for sale, revealing that they had never really cared for their daughter-in-law (and apparently, grandchildren) and were not going to take anything less than full value for the house. That was a strange day in many ways. First, if any of my family is reading this, a big thank you for taking the time and emotional energy to create healthy family dynamics to grow up in. The idea that twenty-five years AFTER your son married a woman and had raised grown grandchildren for you for you to love and enjoy, you would then repay her with evil on the eve of his death-- all that was a little startling. Second, within a matter of three days, we went from being settled and content with our place to knowing an eviction notice was coming as soon as a suitable buyer could be found. Third, we were subjected to the realtor from hell.

Supposedly this realtor had listed the property because she was a personal friend of our landlords, because some of the liberties she took with the property were those I think only a friend would take. Any of you who have sold property or been living in a dwelling that was for sale can let me know, but I had never before heard or been subjected to:

a) being called up on the first day that the realtor was showing our apartment just to 'let us know she was coming by...' This would have been irritating enough except that it was ten in the morning, and (strangely enough) we were both at work, so no one could let her in! I said that if she gave us a day's notice, we would have the place ready for her! That appointment got moved to ...

b) two days later, when she once again called to say that the apartment was locked... another shocking behavior of ours, apparently... and the landlord had lost his key. Could we come open it up for her, please? I think I may have been a little sarcastic and said something along the line that I would love to as long as she compensated me personally for the hour round-trip that I would have to take off from work to do her job. She hung up rather abruptly, but turned out to be a resourceful woman. Remember the porch I referenced earlier? She not only had the gumption to walk up it, but then to jimmy our bedroom window that abutted said porch and let herself into our apartment. Unfortunately, she forgot to close it, thus tipping us off to her presence. I believe the conversation with our landlord later that day was something about silly breaking-and-entering statutes. She didn't do that again.

c) midway through this process, we got a somewhat pitiful call from our landlord wanting us to give our blessing to the process of evicting us all and the realtor's methods... I wasn't exactly sure what to say: "Of course it's fine-- we don't mind at all that we have to look for a new home, your daughter-in-law has to start a new life, and an unknown woman is poking through our personal belongings." I think that Oscars might be coming my way if I could deliver that with a straight face.

d) The final straw for us, at least, was the day almost at the end of this process that Rachel came down with some sort of stomach bug. While she was bowing to the porcelain throne, she heard water dripping overhead. That wasn't all that odd, except then I heard it in the living room over the TV-- then I felt it on my head. Apparently the upstairs shower had become the downstairs shower. Before we could call our landlord, the realtor called to remind us she was showing our apartment in an hour. While this one was at least a scheduled appointment, we gently begged off, saying that between the water dripping through the ceiling and the Queen's condition, she might want to show it another time. Her response was classic: "Well, she could just leave for the fifteen minutes or so we'd be in there, right?"

So there we were -- homeless-to-be, feeling like we needed to stand firm for the new widow who was also being evicted, not knowing what to do. Clearly it was beyond our control at this point... and we began to pray, not knowing what else to do.

(Without giving too much away, Elijah and I enjoy a little construction break in our castle yard... circa summer 2009.)