People in the neighborhood were fascinated with the house on the corner, which had been unoccupied for three years. The property, with its strange past and lingering questions, had neighbors speculating as to what really happened to the couple who once lived there. Rumor had it that Mr. and Mrs. Awa were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary on a hot summer night. One hundred guests attended the gala, and one of the invitees was an alluring young woman. Her stunning features captivated most of the men at the party, and Mr. Awa had fallen for the enticement. She was twenty-three; he was fifty. They started to talk, and before anyone knew it, the two snuck off to the basement and went at it like a heifer and a bull in heated passion. She had such a grip on him that the lovemaking lasted for almost two hours. He never experienced this type of fulfillment, not even with his wife, who never missed him because she was busy attending to their guests. Being in a state of erotic bliss, he was ready to leave his spouse and live merrily ever after with the young female. Almost losing track of time, the husband rushed back to his wife and company. Ten minutes later, the young woman followed like a silkworm coming out of her cocoon. When the party was over, the husband announced to his wife that he no longer loved her, wanted a divorce and was gone the next day. One week later, his wife vanished. It was a mystery as to where the couple went. Many surmised that the wife might have done away with her husband, or he might have run off with his young lover. Since the couple only lived in the house for five years and kept to themselves, neighbors never got to know them. The duo would never speak to anyone and would spend weekends at Martha’s Vineyard, where most of their friends lived. The Awas were a strange match in heaven, to say the least. People would refer to them as the creepy crawler twosome, because they would sneak out of their house to avoid running into the neighbors.
The one hundred year old Victorian style single-family house was located in Central Brooklyn, New York, a thriving village made up of professionals, artists, retirees and business owners. Built in 1901, the 4,090 square feet three-story property had 9 furnished bedrooms, 2.5 baths, 2 total full baths, 1 total half bath, and a finished basement. There were carpet, marble, and linoleum floors, a spacious kitchen with a refrigerator and stove, an open dining area, and an airy living room where an imported crystal chandelier hanged. What made the home even more distinctive were its hardwood floors, decorative stairs, multi-colored walls, patterned ceilings and its steep roofing. Throughout the house were Victorian and modern furnishings, African and Native-American paintings, and exquisitely handcrafted treasures from every corner of the world. It was never quite clear who owned the house. The neighbors assumed the couple was the rightful title-holders, but when they disappeared, several people showed an interest in buying the property, but when individuals did a title search, there were too many roadblocks. Therefore, interested parties never proceeded with the purchase. In 2003, the house was valued at $500K. Three years later, the asking price would probably be close to $700K. Nevertheless, as time went by, folks lost interest in the house and the odd couple, but soon that would all change. A storm was about to pass through, and if the community was lacking in new chitchat, they were about to be hit with the biggest scandal that would make a soap opera look like child’s play.
|Vivienne Diane Neal|