He turned the page to reveal another Georgian brick building—two or three stories with wood-slat shutters and a tiny square porch, all overgrown with weeds and vines. A skinny tree sprouted around a rain gutter and worked its roots through the mortar between the dirty red walls. “It’s a beautiful place, even now. I mean, even the last time I saw it, a while back. It’s completely desolate; unless you go inside the buildings it looks like no one’s touched it since 1978.”

“Why? What’s inside the buildings?”

“Graffiti. Homeless people and teenagers have trashed it, but I never saw another soul while I was out there. At least not until the cops showed up and kicked me out. My jeep was parked down at the foot of the hill, that’s what gave me away. There’s nowhere to park if you want to get out and walk around. The cop was pretty cool, though. He just told me that there was no trespassing allowed and that I needed to get on my way instead of being an asshole about it.”

“Is it still there? Could I go running around up there?”

Dave flipped through the remaining few pages before he answered, and then he talked slowly. “I’m not sure. I heard the city was going to tear it down, but whether they have or not, I couldn’t tell you.” Ah. Being careful about what he said. I couldn’t blame him.

His voice picked up to its usual pace once more as he finished, “And I am officially forbidding you to go there, even if it is still standing. Didn’t you hear the part about homeless people and vandals? Besides, it’s falling apart. The place isn’t safe.”

He may as well have quit when he implied it hadn’t fallen down yet. I hadn’t heard anything past the part about the city only maybe tearing it down. “Where is it? Red Bank, you said?”

“No dice, kid. I just said, it isn’t safe. If you want, I’ll run you out to the library tomorrow afternoon. They’ve probably got some stuff on it under local history if you feel like looking. You can explore the place via your friendly neighborhood librarian, but you are not going to check the place out in person. Not with my permission, and not on my watch, missy.”

“Okay, the library, then. We could do that.”

Dave clapped the book together and stood. “Of course, this is all under the strictest condition that you don’t say a word to the goddess.”

“Fear not, dear uncle.” I smiled.

“Don’t call me that. It makes me sound old.”

“You are old,” I said.

He smacked me gently on the head and went to go hide the album back in the studio closet before our goddess arose.

Dave was as good as his word. We went to the library and he left me to roam while he crossed the street and soaked himself with coffee at a hole-in-the-wall establishment. He promised me an hour at least before he came after me, and I set my watch to make sure he didn’t cheat.