by Bob'n Around
Invisible matters of the mind turned real into the written word.
|Edgar Allen’s doors and windows might just as well have disappeared for all the good they were doing. Sunday on the coldest day in January, his furnace up and died. He’d been asleep when the frozen water pipes burst a shower of ice cubes mixed with freezing water upon his head.
Sputtering, coughing, wheezing himself flailing wildly awake, the poor man got the shock of his life when his power shorted when he tried turning on the lights. “Frick’n house of horrors.”
There was nothing else to do but turn off everything and hunt up a motel. Edgar pawed through his closet for clothes, shrugged into his jacket. The comfort of his car keys and cell phone in the pockets calmed his agitated shivers. “What else can happen? I’ve seen the worst.”
He managed to shatter a window pane with an elbow and knock a hand through a wall before juggling his cell phone into flashlight mode. It made him try jumping out of his skin when it caught his agonized expression in the room’s mirror. “Enough, all ready. I’m living in a spook alley.”
He had to get out of there. Urgency sped the cause. Edgar’s bare foot slipped on the clothes he’d thrown on his bedroom floor. His head decorated the nearest wall with his blood. He jerked, hearing the mirror frame break free and the blade slash down trying to guillotine his neck. “House three. Me zip,” or was he losing count?
“What did I ever do to you? House is trying to murder me.” He never should have broken up his grandmother’s old mansion and carved it into apartments. Last night he’d gone to bed drunk celebrating the last finishing touches. Sites were ready online to sign up renters for old world charm.
“Grandma? If you’re listening and have anything to do with this, just tell me what you want and cut the hysterics.” The ‘accidents’ during the house transformation came to mind. He’d thought they were due because of paying cheap budget prices for an inexperienced crew. Maybe not.
Now was not the time to quibble. It felt like the walls might be closing in on him. “Impossible.” Broken glass kept him from jumping to his feet. It was a jigsaw puzzle with shards threatening to cut him to pieces. The walls creaked and groaned just like old grandma did when she lived here.
“Can’t sleep, dear?” Her ashes lay scattered around where the backyard made room for extra apartments. “Want some company, do you?” She’d have plenty when the renters moved in. That is, If there were rooms left standing for them to inhabit.
“You always were a terror.” Talking seemed to calm things down. The framed photograph of the lady in her younger days slipped on its wire where it hung on a wall, making her look at her nephew askance.
“Tough times demand tough answers. No way could I afford keeping this place up the ways things was,” Edgar Allen explained. “Catch one’s death of cold in here now, grandma. Cost an arm and a leg getting things fixed again. You settle down now, you hear?”
The sound of her voice harrangue’d in his mind, just like old times. He shivered, nodded and felt the twist of a smile kiss his lips. “I know. Yes. You can have your old haunts back, if you want. I’ll move.”
He’d be glad too. Rubbing the cold raised flesh on his arms, he rose and aimed himself towards the doorway. Grandma turned poltergeist was a little hard to take but had possabilities. “Fresh meat moving in soon, grand dame. Are you up to teaching them manners while they keep you company?”
Renters notorious about not paying their rent, stealing you blind, and leaving a broken mess behind. “I know the place doesn’t look like it used to. You can help redecorate to your taste. How’s that?”
“Remember those pesky relatives coming out of the woodwork wanting their part of your estate? They were hounding me at your funeral. How about I invite some here to stay?” His door slammed open. Shut. Opened again.
Edgar Allen nodded the wrinkles in his furrowed brow away. The future looked bright again. “Freeloaders.” Having the old broad around to goose them into opening their wallets before, if or when she set them free bode well.
He couldn’t wait to have the family together again and have them take the weight off his shoulders giving the old broad and her haunted mansion their undivided attention.