“Please, let me sleep ten more minutes,” I whined. She pulled off my covers.

“Nope. I’m already dressed. Come on, get up. I’m going downstairs to drink a cup of coffee. If you’re not down in fifteen I’m coming for you.”

I lobbed my pillow toward her, but missed my mark. Her laughter floated down the hall. To meet Dee Dee’s time requirement I splashed my face with water and threw on a pair of jeans and tee shirt. I could come up later and put on my face.

We managed to convince Nana to stay with Mama. I suggested they find Nana a costume for the evening festivities and headed to Savannah.

On the drive over we discussed what we planned on wearing to the Pirate Festival. The choices for women were few. You could be a lady pirate, wench, or princess. We decided princess or lady pirate worked best for us.

We headed downtown to the Mercer Williams House where Bert, Grace’s ex-husband, worked as a security guard. Dee Dee studied the brochure for directions. “Hey, listen to this.

The Mercer House was designed by New York architect John S. Norris for General Hugh W. Mercer, great-grandfather of Johnny Mercer. Construction of the house began in 1860, was interrupted by the Civil War, and was later completed, circa 1868, by the new owner, John Wilder.

“I knew Johnny Mercer was connected to the house, but I wasn’t sure he ever lived there.”

Dee Dee continued, “It goes on to say Jim Williams bought the house in 1969 and began a two year restoration.” She lowered the brochure. “He’s the guy who was portrayed in the movie, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

“I know. Wouldn’t it make a great story for Georgia by the Way? I mentally filed information to use at a later date. “If we have time, I’d love to take the tour. Maybe take some pictures and buy a book or two for research.” My interest piqued as she continued to read.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Jim Williams, accused of murder, claimed self-defense. After four trials he was acquitted.” Dee Dee finished reading from the brochure.

“I wonder how he warranted four trials. I’ll put that on my research list. He definitely beat the bullet.”

Dee Dee flipped the brochure over. “Listen to this. Jim Williams was one of Savannah’s earliest and most dedicated private restorationists. He began to restore houses in 1955 at the age of 24, the same year the Historic Savannah Foundation was founded. It was the beginning of a career that would span more than 30 years and result in saving over 50 houses in Savannah and the Lowcountry. When he bought the Mercer house in early 1969, it had been vacant almost a decade. Thus began a painstaking restoration that lasted two years and was finished in time for a Christmas party.

“We’re getting close. It should be in the next square.” I knew from my research that Savannah boasted 22 squares. These squares, first designed by General James Oglethorpe, made this unique city a beautiful place to visit. I looked in awe at the huge oaks draped in Spanish moss standing like sentinels throughout the city. The traffic moved at a leisurely pace around the squares. Tour buses dotted the traffic.

“Look!” Dee Dee thrust the brochure in front of my face. “There it is. See? It’s the same house as in the picture.”

I slammed on the brakes, glanced in the rearview and breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, no cars were in sight. “Girl, what are you doing? Trying to get us killed?”

Dee Dee turned around to look, too. “Aw, Trix, you do tend to overreact. There isn’t anyone behind us.” She pointed at a two story, red brick house across the square. “Look at that. It takes up the whole block. Hurry and park; I can’t wait to take the tour.”

“Yikes, I haven’t parallel parked in a coon’s age.” The secret was out when I scraped my tires on the curb during my third try. The driver in the waiting car honked their horn. I didn’t blame them.

“I can tell,” Dee Dee said.

“A perfect job. Thank you very much.” I air pumped my fist.

“Yeah. And it only took four tries.”

Dee Dee sure knew how to put a damper on a girl’s accomplishment.

I grabbed my camera and clicked away. The Mercer Williams House stood proud among other historic homes in the area. Tall arched windows decorated the Italianate mansion. Ironwork balconies surrounded the stately windows. I took pictures from the front of the house and then from several different angles. I’d learned through my work that it took many shots to produce one or two images good enough to be print worthy.

We walked around to the back of the house where other tourists waited in line for tickets. A young lady informed everyone it would be twenty minutes before the next tour so we decided to browse around in the gift shop. I glimpsed through books showcasing the interior, making me even more anxious to see it for myself.

“Trix, here they come. I guess we’re next.” We stepped back to let the line of tourists pass by.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Mona, and I’ll be your guide for the next tour in about five minutes. Please be ready to go.” The matronly woman never cracked a smile during her announcement.

Dee Dee turned around and whispered, “Who took her teddy bear? She looks like she’s been sucking on lemons.” She puckered her lips in a mocking expression.

“Play nice, Dee,” I cautioned, but I couldn’t help giggling.

We followed her out of the gift shop into a small garden area. Mona started her spiel about the house. I positioned my camera to take a shot.

She stared straight at me. “Ma’am!”

I pointed my finger toward my chest and shrugged my shoulders.

“Yes, you. There is no photography during the tour. Did you not see the sign in the gift shop?” All eyes turned toward me.

I felt my face turning red. “No ma’am, I guess I didn’t.” Geeze louise, you don’t have to be so rude about it.

We entered the house and I pulled out a pen and tablet to take notes since I couldn’t shoot photographs. Before I could make my first stroke I heard that authoritative voice again.

“Ma’am!”

I glanced up, hoping she wasn’t talking to me. No such luck.

“You can’t take notes in here.”

I guess Dee Dee had enough of her rudeness and decided to call her on it. “Well, just why can’t we take pictures or notes?” She put her hands on her hips, mimicking Mona’s stance. Under her breath I heard her say, “It’s not like this house is top secret or anything.”

Mona’s eyes grew round and her face turned pink. Her reaction made me wonder if anyone had ever questioned her authority. She sputtered before giving Dee Dee a response. “Just because we don’t.”

Wow, that’s the best reason I’ve ever heard. I discretely nudged Dee Dee. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll memorize what I need.” Her glazed stare and open mouth indicated she doubted my recall skills. I smiled encouragement, anxious to get the attention off of us.

We walked through several rooms filled with valuable antiques and pictures. Our sober tour guide gave a detailed history and description of every artifact. No one could claim they didn’t get their money’s worth. We headed toward Mr. William’s office when a disembodied voice from the back yelled out, “Isn’t this where Williams bit the dust?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

I heard a sharp intake of breath. “We don’t talk about that here,” Mona exclaimed. I found it ironic that talk about the infamous murder wasn’t allowed. The book and movie, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, had made Jim Williams and his love of restoring homes famous. The rest of the tour went quickly. We were ushered out of the house as fast as Mona could get us out.