Advance to Orchard Avenue

According to the “Chance Card” which was picked up from the center of the game board, I was permitted to move my game piece – the wide brimmed top hat – to St. Charles Place; and this savvy card shark was two hundred dollars richer since I passed “Go” on my way to the centrally located Brooklyn neighborhood.

Unfortunately for me, I was forced to fork over one hundred and fifty smackeroonies upon realizing another player already owned that particular piece of rental property which had two houses built on it, thereby leaving me with only fifty bucks to add to my dwindling bank account.

So much for my good fortune!

To an average passerby, they might’ve thought that I was playing a highly contentious game of “Monopoly” with my little sisters in the underbelly of our Cape Cod-style home.

However, my younger siblings and I were accompanying the blond-haired minister as he collected the monthly rent checks for the Pentecostal church’s pair of rental properties which were situated along Orchard Avenue – a beautiful tree-lined street – directly behind the colossal red-brick building with stained glass windows.

Of course, we weren’t all that interested in learning what it meant to be a hospitable landlord in the mid-size industrial city north of Pittsburgh; but these members of a newly organized chapter of “Busybodies Anonymous” were rather curious to meet the new renters – the Jones family – as they happily moved into their brand new digs next to the alley.

With a large plate of chocolate chip cookies, we were warmly greeted by Mrs. Debbie Jones at the entrance of the two-story Victorian as her oldest – five-year-old Bobby – peered from behind his mother’s apron followed by a pair of three-year-old twins – Jeannie and Jackie – and the youngest of the bunch – two-year-old Brandi; after which Mr. Robert Jones stepped off the moving truck carrying a bedside nightstand.

I’m Rev. Cecil A. Price and these are three of my four children.

“We’d like to cordially welcome you to the neighborhood,” proclaimed Dad as he stepped back to let the curly brown-haired gentleman pass through the main portal. “Since you’re moving in today, you may bring a check for first and last month’s rent over to the church parsonage on Monday; but I’m here to offer up my services if you guys need help with anything.”

“That’s a very generous offer,” acknowledged the woman of the house upon shaking the tall clergyman’s hand. “Considering three of my brother-in-laws decided to pitch in with our most recent move, I think we’ll pretty much have the U-Haul truck unloaded by lunchtime; but that tray of scrumptious cookies looks mighty tempting.”

“We helped our mother bake these after breakfast this morning,” boasted this mild-mannered sixth grader while handing the white porcelain plate to the dark-haired brunette. “Upon discovering youns had four wee ones of your own, I figured they would like to sink their teeth into these delicious homemade treats fresh from the oven.”

Do not hesitate to send this trio of chatterboxes back to our house if they become too burdensome.

They’ll be a nice distraction for my little brood.

Immediately after the Bible scholar bid a fond farewell to the new neighbors as they continued the laborious task of unpacking the storage container on wheels, the little band of merrymakers played follow the leader into the heart of the home for a delicious mid-morning snack around the kitchen table.

Once everyone under five feet tall washed down the last bite of a soft-baked chocolate chip cookie with some ice-cold “mow juice,” the new kids on the block were chomping at the bit to show these newfound friends the sleeping quarters high above their heads.

Since this was the first time our club members had been inside this particular church rental property, we relished the idea of receiving a grand tour of the wood-framed structure from its new inhabitants.

Lead the way!

At the top of the ornate staircase featuring carpeted steps and turn-of-the-century hand-carved spindles, I spotted a full bath sandwiched in between two spacious bedrooms that already had bed frames set up – a double bed in one and three twin beds with each of the girl’s names carved into the headboards in the other.

Where’s your bedroom, little man?

“Me thought you’d never ask,” responded Bobby Jones, III before leading me to an enclosed stairwell at the end of the hallway. “When we runned up the steps earlier this morning, I’s thought me was gonna have to share with my little sisters; but then my’s Dad showed me my berry own bedroom at the tippy top of the house.”

Shut the front door!

“I never would’ve guessed youns had a walk-up attic,” I stammered while walking over to three arched dormers on the opposite side of the steps. “If you had all the right materials, this place is long enough to put in a bowling alley; and these windows are the perfect vantage point from which to spy on the entire neighborhood.”

Directly after noticing four miniature-sized doors – two on both sides of the staircase and another pair on either side of the dormers – in the knee wall surrounding the private oasis, I had a strange feeling that those tiny access panels at opposite ends of the large room were somehow connected; and in order to prove my theory, these brave explorers went on a little expedition.

Indeed, my hypothesis was on point!

Due to the hip roof design, the knee wall attics were all connected.

“I’m bugging out,” I thought after bringing up the rear on the way down the enclosed staircase to reunite with our younger sisters. “If the church parsonage had a walk-up attic like this, I could’ve had a secluded retreat in my very own bedroom; and then I would’ve had the best of both worlds.”

Upon closing the door at the bottom of the steps, a revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning – I never even thought to look for a devil’s peak!