My Spooky Summer: The Abandoned Mansion

By Rosa Pappas Davis

"My Spooky Summer" is a story of a couple of teenagers, exploring an old, elegant and abandoned mansion originally inhabited by a wealthy oil executive and his family in Texas. The tale twists and turns around some of their own family history and adds more intrigue with each page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Westwood Books Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Oct 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781648036880

Rosa Pappas Davis

There are thousands of individuals who have spent their lives pretending to be able to read. They manage because they are intelligent, but they have slipped through the cracks in our educational system. Many hold jobs and have families, but not all of them have been fortunate enough to flourish. Many cannot learn in traditional ways. Educators are trying to come up with other tools to help these individuals utilize their abilities. Feeling ashamed shouldn’t be their burden. My journey started when I attended a women’s conference with the wonderful women in my bible study group, “The Susannah Circle”. They are still a tremendous support to me today. We were asked to share what our life goals were and how we planned to accomplish them. That was 40 years ago. Here is one of my efforts to do that. I know everyone who is retained or is held back does not always have a reading problem, but in our current educational system, we know that children are tested on their ability to read and read fluently. If they can’t, that seems to send the message they will not be successful. we must find another path to diversify education so that we find other ways and means for those with reading disabilities. This book is about those who have been walking one step behind other children. It shares the journey of one such student and how his inability or slow progress at reading and other disabilities made him work harder at the talents he did have. We all possess talents. All of us possess different gifts. The Bible shares this in 1 Corinthians 12. I hope the message here helps you all. Find someone to read it to and thank you for your support.

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Copyright © 2020 by Rosa Pappas Davis.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Grandmother averted her eyes from me as she handed the key to the golf cart. You know I am not so crazy about you driving this newfangled thing! she said with her lip on one side turned down, like the clowns at the circus. I knew she wasn’t afraid of my driving because we grandchildren had been driving this thing since I was probably eight years old. Now, I am fifteen and I am rather good at it, even if I do say so myself. No, what she was worried about was the cars that drove through this area of this gated Houston community. It was old, and the homes were monstrous castles from the 70’s oil-boom magnates. Many were falling in disrepair, but people still lived here, and others came to admire the old architecture of the mansions of the elite. My grandmother was afraid of their driving.

I know, Gigi, I am just going to ride around a bit. Nothing else to really do! You know I love the history in this old neighborhood! I flashed her a smile, trying not to say that I was so bored I had to find something to do.

Okay, she said as she washed up our few dinner dishes in the sink. She had a dishwasher, but my grandmother was raised in the Depression, and she had always found it awfully hard to use the appliances that made her life easier. In so many ways, I wished I could be more like her. That was a fleeting thought as I skipped my way down the hall to the back door of the house that led to the huge garage. In the evening shadows, I admired the mint-condition golf cart, sitting there like it couldn’t wait to be used!

My grandmother had a stern streak in her that often kept some of my cousins more at arm’s length. She had been a teacher until my grandfather had made a fortune in the oilfields of eastern New Mexico, and he became an executive at an oil company before the last crash. If my grandmother hadn’t been such a spendthrift, she wouldn’t have still had this beautiful home in this elegant gated community. Old and dated as it was, it had great bones. It had a simple elegance that was timeless. My grandmother’s knack for taking care of things (a lesson learned in her years in the Depression, not knowing what might happen the next day) had preserved its dignity. It wasn’t at all a garish place but somethings about it just didn’t fit the neighborhood; however, my grandfather was a proud man and insisted they move to this upscale neighborhood when he was asked to join the company. My parents had moved to Texas as soon as they were married, so they were at least in the same state. We only lived an hour from Houston. My Aunt Jane and Uncle John lived much closer to Gigi, just down the interstate. It was pretty much a yearly thing to go and visit for several weeks with my Gigi, as we called her, after my grandfather had passed from a brain aneurism. He was still relatively young when he died. Even living in Houston, the medical hub of the world, they couldn’t save him.

Luckily, my grandmother had begun to play golf when she left teaching, and it had given her something to do, a reason to stay in the neighborhood. She was in relatively good health when my grandpa died. Flash forward thirty years. Gigi still got around well, played the piano, and had a great group of friends who helped her stay active. Besides, most of them had lost their homes after the Enron disaster. Grandmother’s money-management skills proved to be her greatest strength. Papa had made adequate arrangements as well, but much of his investments in the oil industry had not held strong. However, she was able to stay in her home and had a more than adequate retirement to live on.

I’m coming, Bessie! I said like I was talking to my horse! With that, I was in the driver’s seat and turning the key! I backed out of the huge, three-car garage; the loud beeping was evident to the entire neighborhood. It was beginning to get dark, like a shade was being pulled down on the horizon. I switched on the lights as I headed down the paved road in front of my grandmother’s home. The air had a slight aroma of dried leaves, and I could smell a grill burning nearby in someone’s backyard. I loved this area. Exploring was something I had done for several years, with my grandmother as a chauffeur when I was too young to drive. The yards were well manicured and massive.