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One black clad teen steps out of his house into the blazing summer sun. He shields his eyes from the sun with his hand as he takes a few more steps away from his bleach white house with a brick red roof. With a quick glance around he surveys his surroundings. On either side there are quaint little four room houses with various tacky lawn ornaments. The ornaments hung to the fringes of the perfectly manicured lawns, as if the owners feared to obscure their handiwork.
His black zip-up hoodie and black denim jeans turn the hot day into a Dutch oven. The skies are blue but they fade to white just before they meet the horizon. The air hung stagnantly breathing seemed like sucking in water.
The pallid teen strolls to his one car garage. He pulls his bike a faux bone rattler from the garage. As he struggles onto his bike he glimpses a man wearing a wide brimmed hat and huge mirrored sunglasses and a overly long beige trench coat disappearing behind his neighbor’s house. At first the teen dismissed the stranger as just that a stranger. Little more than a second went by before the teen started to feel horribly intrigued. Not twenty steps away was his neighbors house on the other side of the road.
Inside the teen felt a faint déjà vu. His head started churning trying to grasp a memory for this feeling. After a few seconds the memories hit him like a freight train. He felt helpless as he was pulled back to his deepest most unpleasant childhood memory.
The memory had been one he had buried deep in hopes that he need never experience it again. It was the first day of summer at the end of third grade. It was a picturesque day, low seventies a light breeze with fluffy clouds. He walked to the library looking for an interesting book.
It’s true most third graders aren’t interested in reading out of school. This third grader however had always been just a little strange. Not anti-social or ostracized just a touch quirky. He had taught himself to read at the ripe age of three and a half. Ever since he had a book in his hand.
The library was state of the art then. The library is two floors jam packed floor to ceiling with shelf after shelf of perfectly alphabetized and categorized books. In fact the isles between the massive shelves were so small two people couldn’t search the same section. The boy’s favorite section was fiction.
Within five minutes the boy had checked out a book. He loved the book within five pages. All the details of the story had become sketchy with age. He remembered vaguely that it was about some talking car.
He decided that he might enjoy the book more at Wimberley park. The park was a quick ten minutes walk from the library. The park consisted of four haphazardly placed oak trees and one painted steel bench standing in a small open patch of grass.
He remembered the bench being uncomfortably hot from the sunlight. He was thoroughly enthralled with his book and for an hour he was content to read and let the world rush by. His peace was broken by a visitor. A sinister character strolled toward the bench and sat down as quietly as possible.
The man wore a buttoned up beige trench coat that looked to be three sizes to large. He wore a thick set of mirror sunglasses that hid his eyes perfectly. On his head he wore a black thick rimmed hat which he had tilted so it covered all of his forehead. The boy’s first thought was that the man must be terribly hot.
Noticing him staring the man turned his head ever so slightly. With a little flick of his hands the man removed his sunglasses. His eyes were two colors one was yellow and one was blue. The man’s skin was pallid and seemed stretched as if there wasn’t enough to cover bones. The man reeked of copious amounts of expensive cologne. He looked like a man with plenty to hide but smelled like a inviting host at a party.
The boy could not move even though he had dropped his book face open on the ground. The man’s lips which had looked normal while stationary became sickeningly thin as they curled into a little smile.
After a moment the man put his shades on again and stood up still smiling. Turning smoothly on his heels the man strolled away to the nearest corner. Once there he hailed a cab and was gone. Leaving the boy petrified on the park bench.
Before he really knew what he was doing he was walking towards where he last saw the man. Sweat trickled from the teen’s armpits and from the top of his head. Two steps from his neighbor’s yard and he was gripped with fear. If his neighbors knew he was snooping around their house he might get in trouble. On the other hand that man had looked so out of place in this cheery little slice of nowhere. He looked so much like the chillingly odd man so long ago.
Questions rattled around in his head. What was he doing here? Why did he wear that outfit on such a hot day? How did he find me? What has he got to hide? Why? That single thought kept popping up behind his eyes. Why?
Curiosity killed off his better judgment. Fear still racked the teen as he willed his legs to take a step and then another. The curiosity grew with every step. He was standing in the very middle of his neighbor’s lawn. A dog’s bark shattered the silence and the his heart rate skyrocketed, a shot of adrenaline coursed through him. He let his pulse return to normal he wiped his brow to stop the sweat from getting into his eyes. The fear returned as he gingerly crept toward his neighbor’s house.
All the while his mind kept pumping with a thousand scenarios each more farfetched than the next. He was nearing the edge of the neighbors house when he heard a cackle. This cackle was not unusual but his mind twisted it into a sign of evil. The echoing laughter terrified the teen more and more with each second.
Sweating profusely, he straightened himself to his full height. He had resolved to look dignified as he met this stranger which had caused him so much torment. When he rounded the corner of the house he was pleasantly surprised. There he saw his neighbors sitting on lawn chairs laughing heartily about some joke. And the stranger which had cased him such terror was none other than his uncle Jack. The teen began laughing till his sides ached and tears ran down his face.
After a few awkward moments his neighbors ushered him over for some liquid refreshment. With a little grin the he accepted the drink and casually walked toward an empty lawn chair.
- by Darth hippie |
- Non Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/19/2008 |
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- Title: The Faux Boneratler
- Artist: Darth hippie
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Description:
a silly little story i wrote a few years ago i still smile when i read it
- Date: 10/19/2008
- Tags: faux boneratler
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