Thursday Doors – Writing Challenge – 2023

Posted by: Darlene on: June 1, 2023

• In: Doors | short stories
• 59 Comments

No Facilities

House on The Edge by Darlene Foster

The old house on the edge of the farm has been empty for many years. Some say it is haunted; others say it is cursed. The wooden door is locked. Keeping its stories inside.

***

When city folk Jim and Alice bought the farm, they fixed up the cabin for their hired help to live in. They placed an ad in the local paper seeking someone who enjoyed working with horses. Gladys, a strong, buxom, mature woman was the first person to respond. They proudly showed her the spotless house with the smell of fresh paint and the glow of polished linoleum. Gladys took the job and moved in the next day with her seven cats. They enjoyed the run of the farm. The cats were not too popular with Alice, however, when they jumped up on the picnic table and ate the cream cheese dip she had put out for her croquet party guests. Gladys was warned to keep the cats in the cabin. She was good with the animals but had her own ideas about how to do things. After several disagreements with Jim, she packed her meagre belongings and left a note tacked to the barn door with a forwarding address to send her last cheque.

It appeared Gladys was unfamiliar with the concept of a litter box. Alice scrubbed the floors thoroughly and left the doors and windows open for days to get rid of the acrid smell of cat pee. She believed she could still smell it years later.

The next ad included “No pets allowed”. A university student with a love of horses became the next resident. She was young and eager and did a good job. Her light could be seen on late into the night, studying. Occasionally a young man spent the night. Jim and Alice didn’t mind. Better than cats! One day she told them she was moving into town with her boyfriend.

The house was much easier to clean up this time although there was candle wax on the floor. Alice shuddered at the thought of candles burning in a wooden building.

Against Alice’s advice, Jim hired a writer with a bushy beard. She just didn’t trust men with bushy beards. He slept until noon every day and only did the very basics of the job. Days went by without fresh food and water for the animals. He was soon asked to leave. They took two truckloads of empty wine and liquor bottles to the recycling store. Alice didn’t say anything but had that “I told you so” look on her face.

Two women in cowboy hats, big belt buckles and fancy boots seemed interesting enough to be hired. Jo and Jean had been in the rodeo circuit for a time and knew a lot about horses. They had great stories to tell and would sit around the picnic table with Jim and Alice sharing a cup of tea and reminiscing. One day Jo approached the house in tears; Jean had left in the middle of the night. Jo said she didn’t know how she could go on without the love of her life. Alice had never seen anyone so upset. She made her a cup of tea and tried to calm her down. Two days later Alice had to call the paramedics when Jo attempted suicide. Alice and Jim hired someone to clean up the blood.

A couple in their forties showed up with the job posting in hand. The meek wife made no eye contact and let her husband do all the talking. He seemed capable. Jim liked him.

Alice had a funny feeling and said, “She looks like a battered wife.”

Jim said,” You watch too much Oprah.”

Things went well. The chores got done and the couple kept to themselves. Jim decided this was the best they had ever had. Perhaps Alice should admit she was wrong.

One peaceful, sunny day while washing the dishes, Alice looked out the kitchen window and thought she saw someone hiding behind the big apple tree. Sure enough, it was a man – with a gun. Alice tensed. There was another man behind the car shed who put a megaphone to his mouth.

“This is the police, come out with your hands raised and no one will get hurt.”

The husband emerged from behind the barn and ran toward his truck. Both police officers were on him in an instant. Alice never imagined she would witness an arrest in her backyard.

The police officers explained they had had an anonymous call to the farm. The husband was known to them and had two previous charges of assault. After they took him away, Alice knocked on the door to the cabin. When no one answered she opened the door and went inside. The wife sat on the couch sobbing, while holding her head and rocking back and forth. Alice offered to call an ambulance but the woman insisted she was all right and that her sister would be there soon to pick her up. Alice couldn’t stop shaking for days.

A cast of thousands paraded in and out of that old house over the years.

Eventually, Jim and Alice agreed to sell up and retire. Except for a few items left behind, the building has stood empty ever since.

***

A chipped bookcase leans against one wall holding up dusty paperbacks, left by someone who could not bear to throw out a book. A beaten-up trunk remains in a dark corner, one item too many to be allowed on the next journey. A moth-eaten blanket, an assortment of old newspapers and a cowboy belt wait in vain. A rusty wrought iron headboard covered in spider webs holds secrets of amorous nights and lonely days, extreme happiness and deep sorrow. A poster of Edward Munch’s “The Scream” hangs on a wall where it surveys the scene with wide-eyed wonder, and silently shrieks.

On windy, rainy nights, some say you can hear sobbing. Others say they hear a hideous laugh. Children say the house is haunted. But don’t children always say that?

This story is my entry in the https://nofacilities.com/thursday-doors-writing-challenge-2023/

There is still time to enter.

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Tags: Dan Antion, Doors, short story, Thursday Door Challenge