Chapter 19
Lane (April 2023)
...
June of 1957. That date was written in the corner of the letter. The ink bled only a little bit and Lane was surprised that the letter was legible. There were no signs of water damage on the crinkled page, only slight wear from passing time. Lane began to read the letter as they sat in the closet on the floor. The glowing lightbulb that hung from the ceiling provided enough light to be able to read the handwritten words but Lane still strained their eyes. The cursive was nicely done and Lane thought that the handwriting was beautiful. The letter was written to someone named Tommy.
Dear Tommy,
After my first month here at Bradley Diamond's I have concluded that I was right. This school and what we ladies are being taught is utter nonsense. The mistress is a terribly strict woman who doesn't stand for diverging from the schedule. She hates fun! She hates individuality and she hates anything that is capable of mistakes. She said my curtsy needed work. Like I've told you before, I'd rather go to military school than be here. If I have to practice gently setting down a teacup one more time I'm going to lose my head. I have a good roommate at least. Her name is Carolyn as she doesn't want to be here either. I swear, most of us would rather not. She's sweet though and she's always reading her own books in her free time. And drawing. She said she could teach me how to draw! I'd like that very much.
How are you dearest brother? Has Father been tormenting you as usual? How is Willard? Should I even bother asking how Mother and Father have been? Are they relishing in my absence? I know that Mother is glad to be rid of me. She was never very fond of providing motherly love. And yet, she wants to impose motherhood onto me, even though she herself was not and is not a fit for it. Not one bit. And Father must be so busy with his work. Has he taken you on as a partner in the firm yet? Or is that just another empty promise he's made? There are always empty promises with him. I'm sorry to say that I can't stand them, Tommy. Why is Willard more of a father to us than our actual father? Why is our mother a mere shadow in any room? It's like she's a decoration like the fancy furniture that Father has imported from Germany.
It's like me being here has made me think and open my eyes to everything wrong with our parents. Our family is actually quite fragile if you think about it. I don't want them to have a chance to see this letter as I am now realizing what I am writing down. I suppose I'll send you a rewritten version and leave these thoughts out. I may throw this letter away so no one will ever see it. I wish to run away. I'm tired of these standards and these rules put in place to keep women subservient. This is not the life I want. Mistress Laurier is quick with a ruler if you so much as slouch or sneeze. I suppose I am done writing for now. You'll never see this anyway. I'll send you a clean-cut version later. My thoughts are too much for me right now and this may be the only way to express them.
I miss you, Tommy. I hope you are doing well. Please look out for Willard and Betsy. I know Mother doesn't treat her well. Always piling tasks on the poor old woman. Anyway, there's nothing more to add since you won't be reading this. I'll write a nicer letter soon.
With love,
Nancy
"Bradley Diamond's?" Lane whispered out loud. Lane wasn't familiar with the name. They knew that the Sequoia Bay Apartments used to be the Sequoia Bay Hotel but they didn't know what Bradley Diamond's was. They re-read the letter several times and made note that this person named Nancy was talking about a school and a strict mistress. "There was a school here?" Lane thought that they would ask Phoebe the next time she was in the building. Lane thought she would have an answer and know more about what it all meant.
Lane folded the letter back up and stood up from the floor. They tilted their head up and looked at the faintly lit ceiling and noticed something odd. There was an access panel in the ceiling in the bedroom closet. "What?" They stared at the little door in the ceiling and then stepped out for a moment, bringing back a chair from the kitchen so they could investigate the strange little door. Lane stepped up onto the chair, carefully balancing as they lightly pushed on the panel. It creaked open with minimal force and dust fell. Lane coughed and had to stop for a moment to rub their eyes and wipe the dirt from their face. The dust made the closet smell musty. Lane reached into their pocket and took out their phone to use as a flashlight. They turned on the flashlight and shined it into the small hidden space as they held up the panel with their other hand. Lane was greeted by a box. It looked like an old shoe box that was covered in a layer of dust and grime. They reached in and plucked the box from its hiding place.
Lane brought the box into the living room area and placed it on the coffee table. They wiped the dirt off of it with a paper towel while covering their nose with their shirt. Some of the dust flew into the air and Lane could see the particles being caught in the sunlight from the window. Then they looked inside. Lane was met with surprise when they saw what was in the box. They felt a rush of excitement when they saw the contents. The old shoebox was stuffed with many letters in beige and cream-colored envelopes. Lane had discovered a time capsule hidden in the ceiling of apartment C7.