Category: Writers Block
"I wonder if I should put up a sign," Mark thought, "I mean, I could probably start my own automobile repair business with all this stuff."
After the movers were gone, Alison walked over to Mark.
"Did you hear what that one guy was telling me?" she asked.
"Not really," Mark admitted, "I was too busy trying to make sure that guy with the whiskey breath didn't scratch up anything by hitting it with anything else."
"He said that this place has a history," said Alison, "he said that some people were killed here."
"They probably say that about every old house in town," Mark replied, "after all, what would a small town be without at least one haunted house to its credit?"
"I'm sure that's all it is," Alison said, "but he seemed serious."
"So did all the people who told the old campfire story about the escaped mental patient with a hook for a hand, who just happened to leave his hook in the door handle of the couple's car," Mark said.
"I guess you're right," replied Alison.
"Or," continued Mark, "all those people who tell the story of the old woman, whose dog always slept under the bed, and licked her hand first thing in the morning."
"I never heard that one," Alison said interestedly.
"Well," Mark began, "according to the story, that state of affairs went on for years, until one night, when the woman was awakened by the sound of dripping water. She got up, turned off the bathroom faucet, and went back to bed. When she got up the next morning, she reached her hand under the bed, and the dog licked it just like always, but when she got down stairs, she found the dog hanging by its tongue from the light fixture."
"Then how did the dog lick her hand if it was dead?" asked Alison.
"There was a note tucked in under the dog's collar," Mark replied, "it said something like, your dog isn't the only one small enough to fit under your bed."
"Who was it then?" Alison inquired, "the incredible psycho dwarf, or something?"
"I don't know," laughed Mark, "but what I'm saying is that there are stories like that everywhere."
"How about the one about the little girl whose parents went out for dinner on the night of a really bad thunder storm, and got killed?" asked Alison.
"What's so strange about that one?" mark inquired.
"The girl's uncle had died the year before,"answered Alison, "but that night, she got a telephone call from him, telling her to stay in the house. The next morning, her brother arrived, and told her about the deaths of their parents, and how lucky she was to have staid in the house."
"Why was she lucky?" Mark asked.
"Because the whole neighborhood, apart from their house was destroyed in the storm," replied Alison, "she told him about the phone call, and he told her about how the telephone lines were down, and how one section of the downed wires was wrapped around her uncle's gravestone."
"Sounds like something you'd see on either the Twilight Zone, or Amazing Stories," Mark said.
"Or," continued Alison, "how about the one where the boy spent the night in the graveyard on a dare, and was found dead the next morning with a knife pinning him to the ground?"
"I think I even saw a made for TV version of that one," laughed Mark, "and I know one that's something like the little girl's story, but takes place on the open highways of America."
"Really?" Alison inquired.
"That's right," answered Mark, "in this one, a truck driver was carrying a full load of gasoline, about twenty tons worth. It was raining, and there was an old guy hitchhiking by the side of the rode. The trucker picked him up, and was told to be careful just before he came to the next truck stop. You see, there was a danger of rock slides because of all the rain. The Hitchhiker got out a couple miles later, and the trucker drove on, taking it easy, and wouldn't you just know it, there was a rock slide right where the old guy, who called himself Sam Preston said there might be."
"So, what happened?" asked Alison.
"The trucker got to the stop, probably by climbing over the rocks in the rode, and told the guy behind the counter that if it hadn't been for Sam Preston hitchhiking, he, the trucker, might have ended up looking like one of the ham burgers the cook was frying up. The counterman dropped a fork, and told the trucker that Sam Preston had been dead for ten years. He'd been killed in a rock slide, right where the trucker's rig was standing."
"You know," Alison said, "that does sound a bit like the one about the girl's uncle.".
Mark went to the refrigerator, reached in, and attempted to find a can of Pepsi, but found nothing instead. Not only was there no Pepsi, but there was no food of any kind.
"Oh, boy," he said, "looks like we'll have to go into town for supplies."
Alison moved to the door, which Mark opened for her, and they went out of the house, after making sure that Alison's cat hadn't followed them out, got into the Fury, and soon were headed toward town. The drive was uneventful, at least until they got into town. At that point, people began looking at the car as if they had never seen one before.
They passed a shop called You Sew, and Sew on their right, and a restaurant called Nan's Luncheonette on their left. Further up on their right was a vacant lot, and on their left, they saw another restaurant, but this one was no luncheonette. It seemed to Mark to be one of those up-scale sit down restaurants one expected to see in cities like Boston.
"Culture comes to small town America," Alison observed.
After driving for another couple minutes, Mark located a grocery store, and pulled the Fury into the parking lot.
Approximately an hour later, the "new couple in town" emerged from the store, loaded down with enough supplies to last at least a month.
"Where now?" Alison asked.
"Don't know," Mark replied, "I would say we ought to stop at one of the restaurants, and get some take out, but considering how many cars there are in the lots of both restaurants I can see, our groceries will be gone over by the time we get out with the food. It might be a good idea for us to get the food stored, and then worry about what to do next."
"Then there's that sign you were wondering about," reminded Alison.
"I didn't know I said anything out loud about a sign," Mark said with some surprise.
"You didn't have to, Dear," replied Alison with a smile, "I know the way your mind works by now. I know you were thinking of using the barn as a garage."