Thomas Behnke

Prof. Walia Eng 302

9/19/19

 

When Matthew got to property the first thing he noticed was the driveway—rough gravel with great patches of bare dirt and tiny branches—stretched for what seemed like eternity in an obtusely curving bend to the right.  The main house was nowhere to be seen. Fifty feet in on the left was a huge elm tree with a sign that read THE NEELYS.  There were a few holes in the sign. Matthew was too much of a city boy to confirm with certainty they were bullet holes.

He stopped and rolled down the window to better hear anyone that might want to get his attention. Though the county said he had every right to be here on the property that wouldn’t help matters if people took his presence as somehow threatening, especially if he didn’t hear a warning or a greeting.

He eased his foot off the brake and settled into a snailish crawl that kept the spraying gravel to a minimum. According to his paperwork, the stables were on the western half of the property, which meant there had to be a fork going left somewhere along the path. He debated heading to the main house first, but that could just give the Neelys advance time to hide any sick animals and clean up the place. Back in his grandfather’s time, once an inspector was on the property what was done was done, but cellphones changed everything.

As he eased around the long bend a large pond materialized on his right. A long-legged white bird stared at him imperiously. Was that an egret? A heron? He needed Albert with him. The kid had an encyclopedia of fauna in his brain.

Just as he had put the pond in his rear view a shot rang out. He hit the brakes, skidding a little on the gravel. He instinctively put his hand up in a mime of surrender, but after a few long, shaky moments, he realized that wherever the shot came from, it wasn’t directed at him, and might not even be that close.

He was just about to start up again when he heard a male voice.

“Hello! How can I help you, Mister? You lost?”

In his rear view, Matthew saw a figure appear. Well, that isn’t exactly correct. The man loomed. He was huge, and as he got closer Matthew saw he was as dirty as he was big. His overalls were caked in mud, threadbare, and at least two sizes too short. His beard might as well have been a terrarium for all the leaves, and twigs and insects it housed.  He had on dark glasses and as he came up alongside Matthew’s truck he bent down to Matthew’s eye level and removed them. His pupils were pink, and it was then that Matthew noticed how starkly white the man was.

“You lost, Mister. This is private property. You bust the chain?”

“No, I’m sorry. What?

“You bust the chain across the path in the front? Where the sign is?”

“Uh, no. There wasn’t a chain. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“You the one trespassing, mister. Why I have to offer first?”

“I apologize. My name is Matthew Barker. I’m with the County Animal Control. I need to inspect the stables.”

She parked her car in the last parking spot that was available to her. From the driver’s seat she could see the rusted leaves that had become part of the floor with each movement of the wind more leaves fell from the trees leaving the trees more naked and bear and the floor lost its concrete color and become a bed of rusted reds, burned yellows, browns and one or two green leaves. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the ones you take when you are trying to make yourself courageous and make yourself believe that you are invincible. She opened the door and stepped off her old, but well maintained ford mustang. She heard the sound of the wind hawolling past her ears and kissing her face like a gentle but old boyfriend. She loved the fall it was her favorite season. She could hear not only the wind but the leaves crushing under her gentle steps, it hurt her to crush such beautiful scenery, yet she kept on walking in to the cafe. She saw the big wooden door with its beautiful carving of leaves and flowers. She put her hand in the massive door and pulled it open, the beautiful smell and hot roasted coffee filled her senses. She loved coffee, coffee meant so many things to her, just one cap would take her back to her early years, coffee meant a hug from her grandmother, a smile from her uncle, a kiss on the cheek from her mother. Coffee was her place of comfort and peace. The warmth of the place gave her comfort. With each step she took in the noise, the rush of this saturday morning in particular. She finally saw her sitting down waiting for her. Her friend the longest of friendships the kind of friendship that knows anything and everything. She was sitting in the rusting table away from everyone hidden away a great place to sit down and catch up.

Aria began walking up the stairs, carrying the pain of the last 48 hours heavily with every step. It felt like every step weighed more than the last as she got closer and closer to the house that no longer felt like home. 

 

“Do you remember the plans we had for this wrap around porch, Michelle?” Aria said slow and dry to Michelle as she continued to make her way up the stairs. She once was so excited to  mount these stairs daily but now she walked nearly lifeless with no motivation beneath her feet. No more excitement for wrap around porches covered in bright, comfy colorful furniture that we planned to lounge around on on sunday mornings. Rose was supposed to be running around in the yard that we worked so hard to keep up with, and Michelle would be watering her Pansy’s and Celosia’s as they bloomed in the crisp fall air. I would slowly sip my coffee and breathed in the life that I had waited so long for. This was no longer the reality that this dreary porch captured. Instead we would sit here weekend after weekend, with cold hard blank stares in our faces and hurt in the deepest parts of our hearts. This porch wouldn’t host guests for future birthday parties, nor would Rose and her friends sit on this porch and devour snacks and pop over homework dates. 

 

Aria paused as she approached the last step that lead to the front door.  We had painted the door a rustic maroon ish color and of course Michelle couldnt let the season go unnoticed as she made sure to place the seasonal rug that matched the bright garnished wreath that graced our front door just in time for fall. The front door that sealed and harbored a vast amount of emptiness now that all the plans had changed. Nothing was the same here, nothing could ever be the same. We couldn’t possibly be happy here now that life had stepped in and dealt us a hand that was foreign to our eyes, making us unable to move. 

 

It was breath taking as I entered my new home for the very first time. The  cool colors of the walls that instantly brought a calm feeling within.me.  I can just imagine :as I enter my home from work what relaxing satisfaction it will bring. The ambiance of the living room allows me to visualize the much entertainment that will take place and yet the joy of being alone watching a movie while eating popcorn. As I entered the kitchen I saw my husband and I preparing meals together enjoying each other’s company. This kitchen has an airy feel to it which brings back memories of being in my beach house. Such life, vigor,and freshness from the flowers outside which I must add bring color to the atmosphere inside. The bathrooms were welcoming. I’m very particular about details, such as, lighting, faucets etc so when I saw the beauty that was created my eyes lit up. Everything was placed in its rightful position. The last place I wanted to leave for last was the master bedroom.  This is the area in a home that forces one to unleash all the emotions.  Experiences different emotion