The Bouloo Homestead
They say home is where the heart is. But what is home if the heart is haunted by the past?
I went of a description spree really.
The Homestead Exterior:
Built of Southern Red Oak, the Bouloo Homestead stands at a gorgeous height of 28 ft. tall - Each story (2) being about 11 ft. tall.
With cedar wood shingles, a second-story balcony, and a full-coverage covered porch, the homestead is perfect for large families and beautiful pictures.
The full-coverage covered porch is made of the same Southern Red Oak as the rest of the house. However, the railings of the porch are made of wrought iron with a design similar to blooming wild flowers - a different flower for every support beam captured section {no section/flower is the same}
The Homestead’s First/Ground Level:
When you come in from the driveway, using the front yard’s gravel path, you enter the foyer using the half-glass, two-vertical panelled Oak door. You noticed how the doro had a half glass panel on each side, a flower design engraved in the glass on the door and panels. Yet, you can’t identify the flower.
Entering the foyer, your shoes hit wood hard flooring. It is Oak wood, with a gray finish. Taking your shoes off, you hop the one step and enter the living room, or as your Gam Gam called it - the Great Room.
You pad along the hard flooring and, in passing, look at the hearth. Encompassing the fireplace are heavy stones found from within the nearby woods. A fond smile appears as your eyes travel up the fireplace. The coarse rocks went up the ceiling of the first floor, through the second, and finally stopped on top of the roof, where a square copper-based chimney cap was mounted to keep away the elements from the fire below. Then you looked towards the road-side, where a window made of two double-hung and a picture frame was laid. Its view of the front yard meadow forces happy memories to your mind. Returning to the fireplace, you catch the sight of two more double-hung windows, one on either side. You forgot how much your Gam Gam liked the natural sunlight.
Returning to your tour, you look up right before you enter the kitchen. There, the upper floor’s wooden railing stood, protecting the top from the bottom. Your eyes gazed to your left. Behind the wall there were the stairs leading up.
Entering the kitchen, your feet remained on gray oak flooring. Examining the kitchen, you saw how there was a snack bar in place of the dining area. It was about 4 ft. tall, made of cedar wood with a wooden top. Passing the snack bar into the appliances zone, you raised an eyebrow at the MayTag logo. Your father had kept his word. Over the farmhouse sink was an awning window that extended outside. You followed the wooden countertop all the way to the refrigerator, where just a few feet away, stood the other outside entrance. It was a two-lite patio door, fully made of glass, with a white wood finish. Pulling the full curtain over the door, you turned towards your left, where the utility room was. It was sealed by a full-wood door.
Uninterested, you turned a bit more to your left and took the flight of wooden stairs up. Holding onto the wooden railing as you went.
On the Second Floor, you arrive at the loft, or study, as Gam Gam called it. There is a small entrance to the attic and the familiar wooden railing that looks down upon the Great Room. In the loft, there is a tiny pocket where a casement push-out window lays. Looking upon the wooden forest behind the homestead.
Walking along the gray oak flooring, you reach the master suite of the house. The master bedroom holds a walk-in closet with a single sliding panel door, a storage area pocket that also holds an attic entrance, a balcony, and of course, the master bath. You pass the king-size bed and open the glass doors with a simple push.
Amazed, you understand the balcony’s beauty. The door looks like a regular door, until you push in the middle, where it splits away, revealing to glass half-doors. Like a princess door. Your fingers trace the abnormal glass design. Unlike the flowers that were at the foyer’s doors, or the floral patterns of the covered porch railings, a mighty dragon soaring towards the sky was encrusted here. Turning away, you reach the edge of the balcony, where wrought iron railings guarded the fall. The design here was also atypical. Three sleeping dragons held up the railing, but encased each of the dragon was an empty case. As if something is supposed to be there, yet nothing was. Pushing away the urge to search, you returned inside, locking the balcony’s doors behind you.
Entering the master bathroom, the oak flooring finally changed to glazed ceramic tiles. Your anxiety lessened at the sight of simple glazed ceramic tiles. Looking at the shower, a hazed glass panel answered your unasked question. Looking to your right, the tub big enough for three hushed your fear. You would definitely fit here. Unlike that tiny apartment one. Shaking your head you passed the wide glass mirror that stood above the double sink with a wooden countertop. At least Gam Gam kept the theme through the whole homestead. Leaving the master bathroom, you looked at the tiny pocket where another double-hung window perched. Your gut dropped however, as you took a few steps towards it. This pocket was...no ordinary pocket you recalled. Sea-sunk memories arose, but you immediately left the room in search of present memories. The Homestead was both pleasant and unpleasant.
Returning to the ground level, you passed through the great room and foyer, entering the forest bedroom on your left. Immediately, your mind went to a happier place. This was your old, childhood bedroom. The peeling wallpaper of soft flowers was the tell-tale sign. You looked at the window facing the road. It was the bigger of the two the room had. This window, a glass block divided 2x3, was covered with a yellow-stained white sheer curtain. Turning to the other window, your heart seemed to fall beat in fondness. A tiny clay model of a little girl stood, holding a basket. Your child-self’s remodel of Red Riding Hood. She stood alone on the sill of the storm window Wiping away your tears, you left your childhood bedroom and went to the bathroom.
It, unlike the recent bedroom, was still in kinder condition. The single-person tub and shower was shielded by a plain tan shower curtain. The single sink, with a fracturing mirror, had rusting stains. Ceramic glazed tiles similar to the master bath reflected the soft white light bulb. With a brief reflection in the fractured glass, you see the reflection of childhood you. Carelessly smiling with a blue thumb print of her cheek and orange paint smeared down the right eye to her neck. Then, with another blink, she was gone. You left, turning off the light bulb.
Finally, you stood in front of the final bedroom. Your hand sat coldy and sweaty on the silver door knob. To open meant accepting. To keep close meant a good night’s rest. Taking a few minutes to breathe, recuperate, and settle racing thoughts, you grabbed the door knob and turned.
Inside the final bedroom, the same scene appeared like it did some many years ago. A full twin bed, with camo bedspread, a wildlife wallpaper, blocking sunlight from the two storm windows on either outside-facing wall, was a tree-canopy green curtain. At the bedside, a chest with a keyhole lock stood gathering dust . Feeling the chill of the hardwood flooring through your socks, you decide to leave the room without a final glance. It was like a deep cut was reopened and sea salt was rubbed into the squishy, bloody flesh in a hard, pressing motion.
Finishing with the homestead’s interior tour, you left out the foyer’s entrance. Now on the covered porch, you walked with your fingertips grazing the wrought iron railing. With the creaking of the wood boards beneath, you stopped at the back of the porch. Where a three-step stairwell led down to the grand backyard before the tall grass bloomed into the treeline, marking the forest’s turf. You stared at the mighty trees, who watched the homestead for a solid 6 generations. Without conscious thinking, you have reached the backyard stairway. Yet, it was the way the forest seemed to phase between real and magical that stopped you from taking the three steps. Your body was telling you that danger lurked within the wooden world only feet away. Turning your back on the forest, you returned to the road side of the homestead. Walking down the three-step stairwell, you walk back towards the gravel driveway. There, in front of your car, is the three-car garage.
It is made of Southern Oak Red wood as well, but the garage reflects the natural wood beauty. With a dark white finish and dark red wooden garage doors, the garage reflected the grandeur of the homestead. Each garage door had a sunrise window in the center and meticulously burned into each garage door was a name. The furthest left, ending with the symbol for earth, was the name Yia Bouloo. In the middle garage door, with a fire symbol, was Xiou Bouloo. Finally, the final door held the name Zaly Bouloo, written in a simple way, with the symbol of air at the end. You gave a soft, sadden smile before walking over to the driver’s door and entered your hand-me-down vehicle.
The Bouloo Homestead, a place of joyous memories and momentous griefs. As you back in reverse and quickly change to drive, you take a final glance in the rearview mirror. The Homestead stayed lit and happy. As if awaiting your next return. Yet, the way the shadowy forest rose behind it made you nervous. You couldn’t remember the last time the forest clung to the building. As if trying to hide secrets you should know. Yet, you didn’t know these secrets. At least not yet.