HOUSE FOR SALE
By
Harold Wilson
Dearest Erica,
There must've been a storm last night, because I heard a window cover banging against the house all night. I'll fix it when I get back from town. Other than that, the house is in great shape. Much better than the picture, and it smells different out here. You can’t tell that from a picture. I'm at the post office as I write this, and looking over Main Street and all the shops they have here. Truly, the twentieth century didn't make it here, and if it did, they probably shot it. The biggest store here is the Taxidermist. I checked out the school for Kenny and it looks quaint. It looks better constructed than the bank, so that should make you feel better, and the postal clerk I spoke to, Dave, said their school is tops in the county. The people here aren’t stereotypical rednecks. They’re extremely laid back, and I think we could use some laid back feelings for a while, how about you? We might want to consider buying another house to rent out. I saw for sale signs on almost every house on our street. One last thing, I bought a swing for the porch, so we can sit outside and watch the stars on those cool, starry nights. I can't wait until you get here. Love Henry
Dearest Erica,
The house is ready to move in. I spent all last night cleaning, because I couldn't sleep anyway. I forgot to fix that window cover, and it banged away again last night. I would've gone out and fixed it, but it was raining. Not to mention the house is surrounded by woods. The locals fill me with warnings about bears, so I thought I'd play it safe and wait until morning. Go ahead and call me a coward. We'll see how courageous you are when the night falls in this part of town. Turning in now, but I will be dreaming of you. Love Henry.
P.S. Tell Kenny I miss him too!
Dearest Erica,
I got good news and bad news. The good news is that I worked out a sweet deal for another house for sale on our block. I talked the guy down to twelve thousand. Apparently the owner was so desperate to sell, that he called back in less than an hour to accept my offer. I’m having dinner tonight with our new real estate agent, Terry, and he’ll give me the details on how much profit we might make. Terry is getting on in years (time for a life insurance policy, right babe?). The bad news deals with the mysterious banging I keep hearing. I checked around the house and discovered --- we don’t have window covers. So what’s causing the banging? My guess is that a rodent of some sort made a home in our attic. It’s probably a raccoon or a squirrel, yet when I checked the attic I couldn’t find a single dropping, claw mark, or anything. I tried calling you this morning, but I guess you were at your mother’s. Our phone gets installed next Monday, and the cable guy just showed up. I have been here almost a week with no cable. It’s a miracle I haven’t gone bonkers. I’m still bonkers for you my love, and I’m counting the days until we’re together again. Love Henry.
Dearest Erica,
I’ve tried calling you for the past two days, but I received a busy signal every time I tried. So, without being able to consult you, I bought a dog. Now I know you don’t like dogs, especially since Kenny got bit by that Dalmatian last year, but the former owner assures me it’s really good with kids. I named her Blondie, and she is a mixed breed, but mainly Golden Retriever. The first night she woke me up at 3 A.M. barking at something on the front porch. While trying to calm Blondie down, I heard a strange sliding noise out on the porch. It sounded like something dragging its feet, right outside the front door. By the time I ran outside with a broom and a kitchen knife (the only weapons at my disposal) there was nothing out there. Blondie stood by the door whimpering, and refused to step outside. I sure can pick the heroic pets, huh? The next night Blondie woke me again with a bark so shrill, that it made the hairs on my arms and neck stand up. When I got downstairs, Blondie was barking fiercely at the door, while backing away, like she expected something to bust through at any moment. I could see shadows moving through the curtains, but by the time I built up the courage to investigate, whatever it was left, leaving no trace. I think I’ll buy a gun tomorrow or maybe a more courageous dog. Maybe I’m just getting cabin fever being out here alone. I’m gonna call all day tomorrow until I get a hold of you. I miss you and love you. Love Henry.
Dear Erica,
This letter should reach you a little later than the others. I'm waiting for the postman to drive by, because I can't drive to the post office. I awoke this morning to four flat tires. That's right! Four flat tires! I didn't check, but I bet they got the spare in the trunk too. I know what you're thinking already, but honestly my love; I haven't made any enemies in town. I haven't pushed insurance on anyone who didn't ask me about it first. When I sold a few policies, I gave good deals. I had dinner with Terry, but I covered the tip, and I left more than 20 percent. Honestly babe, I've made nice with everybody I've met. Maybe it was some punk kids out on a vandalizing kick. Let's hope they got it out of their system. Either way, I'm definitely buying a gun when or if I get back to town. I'll try to call you as soon as I get to a phone, or whenever our phone gets hooked up, whichever comes first. Love and miss you both, Henry.
Dear Erica,
If it wasn't for bad luck--- you know the rest. Nobody showed up from the garage yesterday, but the postman, Dave, came back to tell me that they would be out here first thing in the morning. I don't like being trapped here. Wait! The guy from the auto garage just pulled up. Hold on!
I've got wheels again! I'm at the post office now as I finish this letter. Hopefully it will make it to you before the other one, or maybe you'll get them both on the same day. I'm buying a shotgun. Things got pretty hairy last night, and I'm not too confident in the defense capabilities of our new canine friend. The porch visitor came back last night, and Blondie barked her head off. When I got downstairs and opened the door, she cowered in a corner and peed on the floor. When the mysterious banging starts up (it has been banging much more lately), Blondie hides under my bed and whimpers. I still have no idea what’s causing the banging from the attic. I crawled up there with a flashlight, but it stopped as I got close. The minute my head hit the pillow, the banging started again. I've taken to sleeping with the radio on, so I can drown out the beautiful peace and quiet of the country that we hear so much about. I tried calling the house, but an operator told me our number had been disconnected. I guess I told the Phone Company the wrong cutoff day. My bad! Less than a week until you can share my misery, but once you get here I feel the misery will melt away. I miss you and Kenny. Love Henry.
Dear Erica,
Don't come here! This whole hillside is cursed! You know I don't believe in ghosts or any of that crap, but something very strange keeps happening here. I don't believe in the supernatural, but I believe my own eyes. And ears! That banging reached an all time high last night and this time when I went to investigate, I saw... something. It's hard to describe... It looked fluorescent, or neon, like white and blue and the only word that came to my head---ghost! You know I don't believe in ghosts, but it appears our new home is infested with them. And they appear to be overcoming their initial shyness. As I write this (it’s just past noon) the banging in the attic has started up again. It never banged in the day until now, and the banging sounds louder and more violent than ever. I can see my breath. That’s how cold it is in this house right now. The temperature outside is near 90, but it feels like an ice -box inside. I turned the air conditioner off two days ago. I turned it off, because the last two nights I woke up shivering, and my blankets were off the bed. Last night, I found them downstairs stuffed into the trashcan. Blondie ran away! When I returned home yesterday, she blasted out the front door as I opened it. She never looked back. And that’s what we're gonna do. Run away and never look back. I don't care if we have to stay at your mother's for a year until we can sell this place, but we can't stay here. I'm going into town to finalize some things, and then I'm heading back here, packing up my things, and heading to you my love.
Love Henry.
Dearest Mother,
Kenny and I have just arrived to our new dream home. Kenny loves the porch swing. I think Henry put it up, because I don't remember seeing it in the picture. Henry's car is here, but he isn't. All his tires are flat, so I assume he caught a ride into town with someone. I hope he isn't angry with me for taking Kenny to see my sister in Ohio for a week, but I don't think he remembers me telling him about it. You know how scatterbrained Henry can be sometimes. He must have the thermostat down to zero, because it's freezing in this house. I'm gonna cut this short, so I can fix supper for my little one and my husband when he gets back. I hear something banging, maybe that’s him now.
Love your daughter, Erica.
The end
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