Later that afternoon, I was feeling a whole lot better, so I decided to unpack some of the boxes in the living room.

I had a very unique living room.

It was 35 feet long and twenty feet wide. One whole side was made up of shelving that was reset into the wall. There I planned to display my extensive book and record collection.

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Since winning the lottery, I was able to collect some vintage books and albums. Actually a lot of them and I planned to proudly show them off in my new home. Not that I expected many people to see them. I was still pretty much a loner.

But, at least I could see them myself and they were at my immediate disposal.

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Even after winning the lottery, a whopping $22,000,000, I still pretty much kept to myself.

I packed up what little I owned and put it in storage. After collecting my winnings, I disappeared and decided to basically reinvent myself.

The chubby, curly haired, four eyed freak, was going to transform.

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I found a spa, in California, that helped me lose almost 60 pounds in just three months. It was a gruelling three months, but the end result was more than I expected.

They also had plastic surgeons that did some minor work to my nose and jaw.

I fixed my teeth and had laser surgery done to my eyes, so I could get rid of the thick glasses.

I even shaved off my hair, after I lost the weight, and grew a goatee.

Three months and $150,000 later, I walked away from the spa, a new man.

No one would have ever recognized me. Not that anyone even cared.

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After that, I travelled all across Canada, looking for the perfect spot to build my dream home. I had designed the house with the help of an architect and it was simply amazing.

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I was on my way back to Corner Brook from St. John's when something made me take a right and head up the Great Northern Peninsula.

Don't ask me what it was. I had no intention of heading that way, but something drew me to the turnoff.

I drove for about 30 minutes or so and turned off the highway, onto a well travelled dirt road. The road went through a small patch of forest and into the little village of Maynard's Rock.

But instead of stopping in the village itself, I drove straight through and down a narrower dirt road that dead ended, at an open field near a cliff. The field was covered with knee high grass and some scrubby trees, but to me ...

it was absolutely beautiful.

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It was nearly sunset and when I stepped out of the car and looked out at the Atlantic Ocean...

I knew my search was over.

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As I stood there, admiring the view and breathing in the fresh ocean air, another car drove up. The driver's side door opened and a man, in his 50s, got out and walked up to me.

He offered me his hand immediately and told me he was John Maynard, the village's Mayor.

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I got a good feel from this man, as soon as I shook his hand. We talked a little and I asked him if I could buy this land.

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"There is a story that goes with this land," he said.

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I shook my head.

"I don't care, Mayor and I don't want to know. At least, not now."

I looked out across the ocean again.

"I just want to buy this land."

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I stayed at the little motel that night and slept like a baby.

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I attended the village meeting the next night and as the Mayor had promised, he brought up the subject of me buying the land, to build my house.

A few thought I was a little crazy for even wanting the land, apparently because of the history, but there was no real opposition.

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The terms of sale were simple. They would sell me the land, on the condition that as many people from the village, as possible, were hired to do the work.

I agreed and the land was mine, for the unbelievable price of $1 and a round of drinks at the local Pub.

I paid for drinks for everyone, all night.

It was my first exposure to the parties of Maynard's Rock. A definite prerequisite of things to come.

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The next day I hired a cousin of Mayor Maynard's, who happened to be a construction foreman and within a week, work began on the land, where my dream house would be built.

Nearly everyone in the village worked at my house, over the year and a half that it took to complete all the work.

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Now, finally, I was in my home.

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I had just put the first books on the shelf when I heard her voice.

"These are really old."

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"Yes they are," I said, as I continued organizing the books on the shelves.

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"I like to read."

As she spoke a copy of Huckleberry Finn fell off the shelf to the floor.

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"Please be careful," I said as I picked the book up.

"These are very expensive."

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I was about to put the book back on the shelf when I heard her whisper, "I'm sorry."

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Once again, I felt bad for the way I reacted.

I lay the book on the floor, opened to the first page and went back to unpacking my collection.

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Several minutes passed in silence, before I heard her voice again.

"I can't turn the page," she said gently.

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I looked at the book for a second and I was about to turn the page, but changed my mind.

"Then you will have to try harder."

I watched through the corner of my eye. I saw the page move ever so slightly.

"You can do it."

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About a minute passed and suddenly the page turned.

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"I did it," she said happily.

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"You did well."

I looked toward the book and smiled. I was not sure if she was looking at me or even if she could see me, but I felt good.

Every now and then, as I put more books on the shelf, I saw the page turn again.

"Are you enjoying the book?"

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"I am," she said giggling.

"But I still have my knife."

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I shook my head and headed out of the room with the empty boxes in my arms.

I stopped in the archway and looked back.

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The eeriness and fear that had enveloped me the night before, suddenly disappeared.

A tear even came to the corner of one of my eyes.