Raleigh's Folly

Chapter 4

2018—late February

Eric and Rusty drove up to The Folly the next morning, and they each had three helpers with them. One in the passenger seat, and two more riding in the rear seats of their extended cab pickups, and their trailers were full of tools and powered gear. They’d had a lengthy discussion concerning how best to begin. Eric wanted to start from the house and work their way out, while Rusty wanted to start from the west edge of the ten acres and work their way east. Eventually, they’d compromised, and Eric’s crew followed his approach at the front of the house, while Rusty and his workers began working at the rear of the property.

When they finally stopped for a lunch break, they’d made a good start of exposing the secrets of the grounds around The Folly. They’d discovered several areas of particular interest that they hadn’t spotted during their walk-through, and Eric spent some time adding details to the proposed plans.

Rusty looked at Eric’s sketch. “I’d never have guessed there was a rose garden under all that undergrowth,” he said. “And those brick walkways will be easy to put to rights.”

“Yeah, and it’s a nicely laid out garden, too. I think we can turn it into something really special.”

“Wait till I show you the camellias I found out back,” Rusty said. “They’re gonna look great next year.”

“I think this place is going to have a lot of surprises for us.”

“No argument there, buddy.”

* * * *

By the end of the third day, the ten acres had been cleared of undesirable growth, but had not yet been taken down to bare earth. While their crews hauled away the last of the debris, Eric and Rusty spent the last hour of the day walking the grounds and making notes.

“We need some decisions from the owner before we continue,” Eric said. “I wonder if Carlton has a few minutes to look the place over with us?”

“One way to find out.”

“Yeah.”

They went over to the Airstream, where they found Carlton at his desk.

“Got a minute?” Eric said.

“Sure.”

“We need to do a quick walk-through of the grounds,” Eric said. “There are some decisions needed that only you can make.”

“My time is your time,” Carlton said, and followed them around the property.

As they passed different places on the grounds, Eric pointed out what they’d found, asked Carlton questions, and wrote either ‘keep’ or ‘clear’ beside several spots on his sketch.

When they were back at the Airstream, Carlton said, “I had no idea there was a rose garden out front, or for that matter, a camellia garden in the rear of the property.”

“From the look of things, I’d say Mr. Raleigh had a landscape designer at work on the property, and a very good one at that,” Eric said. “What we’ve found so far is extremely well thought out. Now that the underbrush has been cleared, we can see the remains of walkways throughout the front garden. It was quite formal at one time, and can be again, if you like.”

“I’ve spent some time looking up the history of the property over at the County Historical Society,” Carlton said, “but so far, I’ve found no mention of a landscape designer. On the other hand, they have two huge folders of information and I’ve barely scratched the surface. And to answer your unstated question about a formal garden, yes, I like.”

“Are you planning to restore the original circular driveway?” Rusty said. “If you are, we have to take that into account.”

“Yes, we are,” Carlton said.

“Very good,” Eric said. “See you tomorrow.”

With that, he and Rusty rounded up their crews and headed home.

* * * *

The next day found Carlton on his way to the County Seat at an early hour. Things were under control at the house, and he wanted to do some more research. He found the same elderly lady at the desk.

“Good morning, Miss Maple,” he said.

“Back to do some more research?”

“Yes, ma’am, and I brought my laptop with me, and a portable scanner so I can scan some of the pictures into my computer.”

“Feel free to help yourself,” she said, and handed him the same folders he’d looked at on his previous visit.

He thanked her, went to the same table he’d used before, and set up his equipment. Sometime later, his concentration was broken when someone coughed discreetly behind his chair. Startled, he turned, and spotted Miss Maple and another woman who looked to be in late middle age standing behind him.

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Perry,” Miss Maple said, “but I wanted to introduce you to the president of the Historical Society. This is Mrs. James Pendergrass, Mr. Perry.”

“Please call me Alice,” the woman said as she held out her hand. “I can’t tell you how pleased the society is to learn that our county’s most famous landmark will be restored to its former glory.”

“Good to meet you, and we’re going to do our best to make The Folly a showplace,” he said. “But I have to say that where I come from, a man my age doesn’t call a woman your age by her given name—at least, not until he’s known her for a number of years.”

“And I agree,” she said, “but sometimes I get carried away with current fads and notions of casualness.”

Mrs. Pendergrass had an envelope in her hand and extended it toward him. “After your earlier visit, Myrtle did some digging and found a few obituaries you might want to see. We have all of the obituaries in the local and Savannah papers indexed by name, but you won’t find them in the files in front of you.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Maple,” he said. “I look forward to reading them.”

“May I ask you a question?” Mrs. Pendergrass said.

“Certainly.”

“Do you have a projected completion date for renovation of the house?”

“We’re hoping to be done by the 4th of July,” he said, “but I think the end of July is a much more likely completion date. Why do you ask?”

“Because the Historical Society has an annual fall fund-raising festival, and we’d be overjoyed to have The Folly on tour as part of this fall’s events. We sell tickets for a nominal amount, and the proceeds go to support the society. Adding The Folly to this year’s event should give a big boost to our budget.”

Carlton smiled, as he thought, There’s always a quid pro quo for everything. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Mrs. Pendergrass.” He gave her a card. “We can discuss it in more detail as the date draws nearer.”

“Thank you ever so much,” she said. “Now we’ll leave you to your research—I’m sure your time is much more valuable than ours.”