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House For Sale by T.A. Bradley (Issue 10)

1

The Audi A4 crawled slowly along the winding road. Alan Corbett kept glancing into the rearview mirror to see if anyone was coming up on his ass. Lauren, his wife, was studying the map and looking around. The driveway they were looking for was supposed to be here somewhere. "I don't know, honey," said Alan. "It seems kind of remote out here, don't you think?"

"Maybe," she replied, "but that's what I like about it. No neighbors staring into the windows at night, or ogling me while I'm laying out trying to get some sun."

"I understand that; I like the quiet too. But do you know how long it's gonna take me to get to work from here? Geeze!"

"Well you said we could look at it. I mean ... It's not like you weren't sitting there right beside me reading the description on the website." "I know; I know. But now that we're out here, I'm starting to rethink it. Maybe we should-"

"That was it; that was it!" she broke in. "Back there."

"Alright, hold on. I gotta find a place to turn around now."

Alan pulled the car as far to the right as he could. Trees and dense shrubs crowded the shoulder, as if they were trying to retake what had once been theirs. The road itself was a single gravel lane, and the tires crunched as he pulled the front wheels hard to the right and then left. Alan eased the car out into the street attempting a u-turn that he knew he'd never make in one shot. Half way around, he heard the whirring engine of the oncoming vehicle, which was still out of sight around the bend they had just negotiated.

"Ah shit! Someone's coming and we're here in the middle of the road like sitting ducks." He stepped down on the gas and the Audi jumped forward. The right front tire thumped hard as it dropped off the shoulder into the brush. A chill ran up Alan's spine as he heard the screeching noise the branches and brambles made as they etched their presence into the side of his car.

Barely getting the car around in time, the motorcycle rounded the bend and shot past them.

"Christ," Alan exclaimed. "I could have stayed where I was; there was plenty of room for him to get by." He pulled as far over to the side as he could, and got out to survey the damage the local flora had inflicted on his new baby.

"That's just great," he grumbled, getting back into the car. "Oh, hell," said Lauren. "Now you're going to be grumpy all day. You won't even give the place a half a chance."

Alan looked at Lauren and his eyes softened. "You're right," he said. "Sorry. Let's go find that driveway and see what the old girl really looks like."

They back tracked for about five hundred yards and then turned left onto another gravelly road, one much narrower than what they had just left. Alan drove at a crawl. The speedometer never topping ten.

After five long minutes, the house loomed into view. It was an old Victorian that stood in the middle of a circular clearing. Its siding was composed of cream colored asbestos shingles, and the shutters were a bright blue. It looked like it had been freshly painted, and the little border garden that surrounded it was neatly manicured with a rainbow of different flower types.

2

"Alan, stop the car; stop the car! Look at this. Do you think this is the right house?"

Alan eased the car to a stop and looked over at Lauren. She placed the paper she was holding on the console between them.

"Look! This picture isn't even close to what that house looks like," she said, stabbing a finger at the structure in front of them.

"This," she tapped the picture, "looks like it's been empty for some time. That ... looks like somebody's living there. I think we're in the wrong driveway."

Alan studied the picture and compared it to the house in front of them. They were identical, except that the photo showed a run down building in need of some rehab. The house just up the driveway was in pristine condition. But other than that, they were the same house.

"Well, you got me," said Alan, shaking his head, "It sure as hell looks like the same place, only fixed up. Do you think somebody bought it and they forgot to update their website?"

"I don't know. What do you think we should do?

Alan considered the situation. They had been driving for almost an hour and a half to get here. His precious Audi, only two months old, was now scarred - and, if all that weren't enough, he really had to go to the bathroom.

"Well, it's like this, Lauren," he said at last. "I think we should at least go up and see. We can explain what happened; if it's the wrong house ... well then, it's the wrong house. But at the very least, maybe whoever lives there will let us use the bathroom before we head back." "Do you think so?"

"Worth a try, isn't it? The worst that can happen is that we'll find ourselves back on the road looking for a place to pull over. Whadda ya say?"

"Ok, I guess so."

Alan slipped the Audi in gear and eased it around in front of the porch steps. They sat there for a few moments studying the windows, looking for any sign of movement. There was none.

At last, Alan opened his door and got out. He walked around and pulled Lauren's door open and then slammed it shut on purpose, hoping the noise might make someone peek out one of the windows. Still, there was no sign of anyone around, inside or out.

Hand in hand, Lauren and Alan clumped up the wooden steps, walked across the porch and knocked on the door. The screen door had given a little squeal when Alan had tugged it open, and slapped him in the back when he let go.

When no one answered, he knocked a second time, adding a bit more force. He pressed his ear to the door. There it was ... movement! Someone was walking toward the door.

3

Alan and Lauren stepped back a pace and waited. Slowly, the door swung open in front of them, being pulled by a little woman who must have been at least eighty eighty.

"Well, well," she said, "don't you two look like a lovely couple. You're here to see the house aren't you?" She turned slightly and yelled over her shoulder, "Martin, Martin, there's a nice couple here – come to look at the house, they did."

"C'mon in. Please. Come right on in. No need to be shy. It's just Martin and me, here. We lost our Toodles, he was our cat, some time ago. So now it's just the two of us. Please come in."

The woman stepped backwards awkwardly, pulling the door open as she did. When Alan and Lauren were standing in the house the woman gave the door a shove and it slammed shut with a bang.

"Right this way, you two. Martin's in the living room."

The woman tugged on Lauren's sleeve, motioning her to bend down, then whispered in her ear. "He don't hear so good no more." Then she started laughing.

"It just struck me," she said, "if he don't hear good, then why am I whispering. Ain't that the funniest thing? Ain't it?"

She led them down the hall and into the living room. Along the way she pointed out the stairs to the second floor and told them that the attic had lots of room, too. She showed them one of the downstairs bathrooms ("makes goin easier on us old folks to have one on this floor," she had said), and pointed in the general direction of the kitchen, which was obscured by the turn in the hallway.

The living room was large and fairly open. There wasn't much furniture, one easy chair (the one Martin was sitting in) and one couch, both of which were squared up in front of the huge fireplace, which was stoked and roaring.

"I know what you're thinking," said the woman. "You're wonderin' why we got a fire goin in late April. Well, we're old. Old people get cold. But I don't imagine you young folks have that problem do ya? Hot bloods, I bet." She sniggered.

Alan and Lauren looked at each other. They were both confused.

"I'm very sorry for disturbing you," said Lauren, "but we didn't know anyone lived here. We were looking for houses ... and ... well, to be quite honest with you, we thought this one was vacant."

"Oh dear me, no," retorted the woman. "We're still here, but don't you worry none. Lot's of folks have made that mistake. But, you know what?-" The woman winked. "-it don't make no difference. We're pleased as pie to show off our house, and we want to be sure that just the right people gets to buy it in the end."

The woman smiled a toothless smile, her eyes bright but glassy. "You know," she said, clucking her tongue, "We've tried to get that darn really-estate person to change their dad-blamed advertisement, but nobody'll talk to us. Kin you b'lieve that? Not one time have they ever so much as said, 'boo', when we called 'em. Now, like I told ya before, me and Martin here are old and don't get around so good anymore, so you and your man, Alan, just wander about and take a good look at the place. If ya like it... it's yours ... 'soomin' you kin afford it that is." She winked. "Now skedaddle. Go have a good look around."

Lauren shot Alan a questioning glance.

"Go on. Don't be shy. Look anywhere ya please. Me and Martin'll be right here waitin for ya when you're done. Now scoot."

Alan shrugged; then he and Lauren began their investigation of the house. Looking back as they left the living room, Lauren saw the old woman totter over to the sofa and plop down. A cloud of dust puffed into the air, and the old woman coughed. Martin never moved, except to look at her and then go back to staring at the fire.

"Alan?" asked Lauren. "How did she know your name? We never even got the chance to introduce ourselves."

"I don't know. Maybe she heard you say it when we were at the door or something. I don't know."

It took them about thirty minutes to inspect the house from top to bottom and find their way back to the living room. When they got there the old woman and her husband were still sitting just as they had left them.

"Well," said Alan, smiling, "it truly is an amazing house. To be totally honest with you, something I probably shouldn't do as a perspective buyer, we love it."

"Yes," added Lauren, "it's just what we've been looking for."

"Oh, that makes us so happy, dear. Doesn't it Martin?"

Martin looked away from the fire briefly, nodded and then returned to the flames.

"So, you're only asking one hundred and ninety thousand for this place? That seems a bit low. Pardon my asking, but is there anything we should know?" inquired Alan, using his best business voice.

"No, dear. That's the whole price, and you get everything you've just seen. All me and Martin care about is letting the house go to the right people ... you know, someone who'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do?" asked Lauren. "Where are you going to live?"

"Now don't you worry 'bout that at all, dear. We got a nice place, me and Martin. It's peaceful and quiet and nobody'll bother us. And the best part is that our granddaughter, Susan, is close enough to visit us every Sunday." The old woman smiled again. This time, her gum line was completely visible, and for a brief moment, Lauren thought she saw the bony arch of her left cheek, devoid of flesh, just bone. But when she looked again it was just cheek.

"Well," said Alan, "we better be getting along. It's kind of a long ride back, and we'd like to catch the realtor before someone else gets the place."

"You take your time and drive careful. Nobody but you is gonna buy our house. Me and Martin'll see to it. Don't you worry. We been waitin' the longest time for just the right folks ... and you're it ... them ... whatever." The old woman broke out in a big belly laugh.

"All right." Alan shot Lauren a look that said he thought there was something mentally wrong with the woman and then continued. "Well, thank you so much for the tour, we truly appreciate it."

"You're very welcome," said the woman. "Now you two can find yer way out, can't you? It's a long walk for the likes of me." She smiled again. "Not a problem," said Alan. "Thank you, again."

4

Alan and Lauren pulled out of the driveway and headed back to town. As they headed out, Lauren turned to look at the house one more time. She gasped. For the briefest of moments it looked as if two corpses were standing on the front porch, the image faded quickly, and all she could see was the reflection of the two front yard trees in the front door's glass. She never mentioned it to Alan.

They sat silent for the longest time, each thinking about what could be done with the house and still wondering why it was going so cheaply. "So," started Lauren, "what do you think? Did you like the place?"

"It had lots of room, that's for sure," answered Alan. "I’m just still a little leery about the price. A place like that, with that much ground, should go for a whole lot more."

"Well, maybe it's just like the old woman said. Maybe they just want it to go to the right people."

"Forgive me for being skeptical, but I think we better go check things out with the realtor. Get the whole scoop, if you know what I mean, Lauren." "Ok, let's go. We can stop there on our way back."

"Damn," exclaimed Alan. "I forgot to piss. We have to stop."

Lauren laughed. Alan was always getting caught up in things and then remembering what it was he originally wanted in the first place. He was like that, a very brilliant physicist, but a bit scatter-brained when it came to everyday living.

One hour and forty-five minutes after they had left the house, they pulled into the realty office. It was just going on four-thirty, and they were hoping the agent was still in the office.

They were in luck; Adel Rosenthal was just about to leave when they walked through the door. She looked up from packing her briefcase and flashed that big salesman smile that all realtors practiced.

"Hi, folks! How did your search go? Did you have a nice drive up there? What did you think of the house?" She was talking a mile-a-minute as she made her way over to them. "It really is a lovely place," she paused, "well, it could be ... with a little love and care."

"Love and care?" questioned Lauren. "The place is beautiful, and the little old lady that lives there is just the cutest thing."

A sour look spread across the realtor's face. It was a mixture of confusion, mistrust and apprehension.

"What are you talking about ... little old lady? There's not supposed to be anyone in that house. Are you sure?"

"Of course we're sure," snapped Alan. "We're not crazy, you know. We certainly know the difference between an empty and an occupied house. And we're NOT prone to hallucinating."

"Well," said the realtor, "we better take a ride back up there and see what's going on. There's not supposed to be anyone in that house. It's been vacant now for almost five years. If there's someone in there I need to know about it."

"Well, you can drive on up there if you want, but we've had it for the day. That's another four hour round trip."

"Oh, yes, of course. Well, why don't we meet here at the office first thing tomorrow and we'll go up together and see what's going on. Would that be alright with you?"

Alan and Lauren looked at each other and then Alan agreed. They'd meet in the morning and all ride up and see just what was what.

5

The old woman turned and faced her husband. They really were a nice couple, don't you think, Martin?"

Martin looked at her and flashed a brief smile and grunted, "Un-huh." He then went back to staring at the fire.

The old woman sighed. "It's so hard keeping warm any more, isn't it Martin? She held her thinning hands out toward the fire, gently wiggling the fingers.

"You know, you should move around more, Martin. You're gonna get all stiff, like ya did before. 'Member that? Every time you moved, your joints would make an awful cracking sound. Sent chills right up my spine, it did."

Martin grunted again, and unbent his knees so he could stretch his legs out toward the fire. The sound it made reminded the old woman of the time they tried to make "that dad-blamed Jiffy Pop," as she had called it.

"I wonder where Toodles ever got too?" she asked, not expecting and answer. "That silly cat is always runnin' off somewhere - and in his condition. I'm afraid that one of these days he's gonna come a-wanderin' back without all his parts." Martin grunted again.

6

The next morning Alan and Lauren met Adel as planned and drove up to the house for sale. They took the same torturous route and crawled along the same driveway. When they finally broke through the tree line and the house rose up before them Alan and Lauren both gasped.

"But ... but what the hell happened?" asked Alan, stunned. "I swear to God, this is not what we saw yesterday."

In front of them stood an old Victorian home. Some of the shutters were hanging askew. The paint was peeling in most places, and broken-off roof shingles decorated the driveway and lawn. The border garden had been subjugated by weeds, and most of the windows were cracked or missing. Alan and Lauren could only stare in disbelief. No words came to them. This couldn't be possible. They were just in there yesterday. Alan jumped out and ran up to the door. Adel and Lauren just watched.

He banged and rang the bell; then banged and rang the bell again. Frustrated, he took a step back. When he looked down he saw the lockbox on the door that held the key. He waved to the car.

Adel and Lauren got out and slowly walked up to Alan.

"As I told you, Mr. Corbett, this house has been empty for quite some time. It's in trust, you know. The people who lived here, a lovely couple, died almost five years ago. It was so sad. The husband passed, and then three days later ... poof ... the wife went too. So sad. So you see, there's been no one here at all. The deed is held by the seller, the couple's granddaughter, in New York. That's why it's going so cheaply. It needs some work, but she really needs to divest herself of the property." "This just can't be," repeated Alan, "I was here; we ... we were here. I tell you, there was a couple in this house ... and the house ... the house itself was perfect."

Adel just looked at him and sighed.

"Well, it's a long drive. We better be getting back."

"Wait!" cried Lauren. I want to see the inside. Can we go in?"

"I suppose so," answered Adel, who would have preferred to just head back, grudgingly opened the lockbox and opened the front door. They stepped in, one at a time, Adel going last.

Except for the fact that it was now empty and strewn with dust, it looked exactly the same as the Corbetts had seen it the day before. The chair and sofa, covered in sheets, sat in front of the fireplace, right where they had been.

"Would you like a complete tour? It'll take about a half an hour or so?" Adel secretly hoped they'd say no.

"No," said Lauren, "we've seen it."

Lauren pulled Alan aside. They spoke for a few minutes and then walked back over to Adel.

"Well," began Alan, "it seems that we're still interested in the house, regardless-" He shot a look at Lauren. "-or maybe even because of ... what happened yesterday. In short, we're ready to make an offer."

Adel was stunned. A puzzled look spread rapidly across her face, but she recovered quickly when she thought of the commission.

"Well, if you're sure. We can go back to the office and finalize the paperwork. But I have to tell you, the price is firm. You won't get a house like this at this price anywhere, despite the repairs it needs. It's got two full acres of ground. What do you think?"

Lauren nodded her approval to Alan and the three turned to go. Alan and Adel had stepped back on to the porch, and Lauren was about to when she heard a soft tapping behind her. She turned just in time to see a cat, a disheveled and torn up looking cat, prance by and scoot up the stairs. If she didn't know better, Lauren would have thought the thing looked like it had been dead for some time. Patches of fur were missing here and there, and its tail was almost completely bone.

She took a few steps back in and looked up the stairs. Nothing! No cat, no people, only dust. Lauren shook her head. This place must play tricks on you, she thought. And she found that kind of enticing.

Outside, Alan and Adel were waiting for her. Adel placed the key back in the lockbox and secured the front door. They climbed into her station wagon and headed back.

As they pulled away, tires crunching gravel and dust clouds spewing behind them, they never saw the couple in the upstairs window. Quietly, coldly, a frail skeleton hand let the drapes fall back into place.

"We can rest, now, Martin. We can finally rest. We've found the perfect couple to take care of our home."

The old woman reached out her bony hand and clasped her husband's. The fleshless digits intertwined with a light clacking sound, and the two faded into the shadows that commanded their bedroom.

"Yes," grunted Martin. "And I'm sure they'll taste delicious, too." He began to laugh and then so did his wife.

7

At settlement, Lauren and Alan met Susan, the trustee of the house. Everything was in place and ready to go. Inside of an hour, the Corbetts owned a new home.

"I'm sure you'll be very happy with the house," said Susan. "My grandparents, Estelle and Martin lived there all their lives. Their one wish was that the house always be looked after, and I think you are just the kind of people they had in mind to do it."

"Your grandparents were named, Estelle and Martin? asked Lauren, shooting an "I told you so" look at Alan. "How very interesting."

"Yes, Estelle and Martin Wurther. When they passed, I had them buried up in New York. It makes it easier for me to visit them. It's a very quiet and peaceful cemetery, and the management allowed us to burry their cat with them, which I know would have pleased them no end."

Alan and Lauren just looked at each other and smiled. It was going to be very interesting living in their new house. Very interesting, indeed.

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