A Jolting Experience
I thought of telling a non-fiction anecdote about my wife’s cousin Bill on this one, but opted for a piece of fiction instead. There’s probably A LOT more I could do with this little story in the future should I want to.
Scott arrived at the old Rafferty residence as planned a few days ago. He sat in his black Honda Civic across the street and waited for his partner in crime on this expedition. He’d agreed to meet promptly at 11:15 PM, and that’s exactly when Scott showed up.
“Come on, dude, where the hell are ya?” Scott grumbled to himself.
As if on cue, he spotted his lanky cohort coming out from behind the house and posting himself at the front porch steps, gesturing for Scott to come on over.
Scott jumped out of his car and quietly shut the door, careful not to make too much racket so as not to wake the neighboring residents. The houses were more spread out on this old back country road, so it wasn’t likely that closing a car door would roust anyone. Given the shape of these houses, it looked like they might have been abandoned for many years, much like the Rafferty place has.
“What the hell were you doin’ behind the house, and what time did you get here?” Scott asked, slightly out of breath from jogging up to the front steps to meet Will with the full moon blaring down on them.
“I’ve been here for a little bit. I was checkin’ to make sure there wasn’t anybody inside.”
“And…?”
“Nobody, just like the first time you met me here.” Will replied.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
They slowly crept up the steps to the front porch, the grayed cedar planks creaking with each step. Scott turned the knob on the old oaken door and it screeched in compliance. He had to give a slight shove as the door frame had long since fallen out of square.
“What are you expectin’ to find here anyway?” asked Will, following Scott and his pen flashlight into the spacious living room.
“How the hell should I know? You’re the one who convinced me to check out the place. You said there was probably some good shit inside. How’d you come to be here last week anyway?”
“Oh...I’ve been, uh, squattin’ in the place behind this one. I saw your car stop and figured I’d see what’s up.”
The lack of conviction in Will’s response didn’t go unnoticed by Scott, yet he continued to prowl around the innards of the long-abandoned structure. He came upon a mantle in the master bedroom and saw a picture still sitting atop it.
It was an elegant frame, once of ornate beauty, though it had clearly seen better days. It still housed an old black and white photograph, probably dating back to the ‘20s or ‘30s based on the people’s clothing. Scott stared at the picture, turning his head a couple of times, like he maybe recognized one or more of them.
“Old picture frame, eh? Anythin’ good in it?” Will queried his companion.
“I...don’t know. The guy, I’m guessing the father, looks familiar.” Scott said quizzically as he flipped the frame over to remove the backing. “The Rafferty’s. Little Billy, Beatrice, and Richard.”
Scott flipped the picture back over and looked at the family photo again, concentrating on the father, Richard. He felt a presence on his left and saw Will sidled next to him, uncomfortably close. With a strange look in his eyes and a mischievous grin Will said in a low voice, “I’ve been waitin’ a looooonnggg time for someone to visit this old house again.”
I got praise for my creativity and my use of vernacular, specifically how I abbreviate ‘-ing’ words by cutting off the ‘g’ I’ve always felt my characters should say words like most average people do in normal conversation. Listen to people closely sometimes…they almost never include the ‘g’ in an ‘-ing’ word.
