Cottage Creep - Chapter 5
ugu...@nowhere.net
The next morning Tom woke early again, feeling refreshed. He
tried vainly to remember any details of his dream while he prepared
and ate his breakfast. While it was still early, he decided to go
into the attack before it got hot and look around. He grabbed one of
the propane lanterns and headed up the stairs. He entered the bedroom
with the access and looked around for something stable to stand on.
He spotted an old dresser, and drug it over below the opening.
Standing on this, he was able to push the cover aside and stand up
into the attack, has head 2 foot above the flooring. It was dark and
he could only see streaks of light from vents, and possible some
shuttered windows at the far end. There was a lot of nondescript
clutter of objects in seemingly random groupings scattered around.
He happily noticed there were no light leaks from the ceiling
itself, offering at least the hope that there were no water leaks. He
set the lantern on the flooring near the edge of the entryway and lit
it. While it helped to see things up close, it seemed to do little
with more distant things since the occasional spears of light from the
sun were far brighter, and the contrast between the darkness, the
lantern light, and the shafts of sunlight were simply too great a
range for his eyes to adapt to.
He decided he would need a ladder to safely enter this area,
and so he retreated, taking the lantern with him. He pulled the cover
back into place, only because he believed everything should have a
place and be in it. Or at least that was what he told himself.
Perhaps there were rats up there making the noises he had occasionally
heard.
Tom decided to go into town and visit the hardware store. He
wanted to get some tools as well as supplies and materials. He was
also out of ice, and was low on food. He stepped out on the front
porch and for the first time, he noticed, it didn't creek. Surprised
by this, he did a trial bounce on his toes, and found the footing
seemed more stable than he had earlier imagined it. "Huh," was all he
could think of to say.
He climbed into his car and drove away, going over all he
wanted to get done today in his mind. He knew it would be a bit
limited because the trips into town always cost him several hours by
the time he could return. He patted his shirt pocket to reassure
himself he had remembered his list. Town was about 15 minutes away in
one direction or about 25 in the other. He decided to give the closer
town a second try since it was bigger and more likely to have the
things he needed.
Once in town, Tom found the hardware stored and searched the
shelves for his needs. He selected a hammer, several screw drivers, a
wrecking bar, several bags of nails, 6 gallons of primer, and 4
brushes. He also grabbed a 6 foot step ladder and considered the 24
foot extension ladder, but decided he would wait until he got a
trailer here before going for the larger items on the list.
Next he found a supermarket and purchased a couple of days
worth of food, water, and several bags of ice. All the while he
shopped, he was aware of eyes. Green eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes, all
locked on him, watching his every move. He avoiding making contact
with those eyes, trying to ignore them, minding his own business and
wishing the individuals behind those eyes would do the same. But it
was a small town, and for some reason, the people here had some kind
of stigma against what he was doing. Maybe they lumped motivational
speakers with some kind of fringe lunatic. Perhaps he would win a few
over later by inviting them out to listen in on one of his speeches.
Upon his return Tom grabbed two armloads of groceries and
supplies and headed to the porch. He stopped in his tracks. The
house was… different. It wasn't nearly as run down as he had
originally thought it to be. Yes, it needed paint. Yes there was
some hanging trim, but somehow, it just looked better. It appeared as
if he had already been working outside. Then he remembered the noises
and occasional glimpses. Perhaps someone was helping him after all.
He decided to try once more to break the ice with this
intruder/helper and find out what he could do, and how much he wanted
to do it. He had purchased a smoker, and now he set it up in the
front yard and moved a couple of wooden benches over near it. He
started a fire and soon the charcoals were hot. He tossed in
presoaked mesquite chips and soon, the smoke smell rolled out of the
unit in a thick fog. "That should get their attention," he thought
out loud. Now, in a loud voice, "Hey, whoever you are, how do you
take your steaks?" He waited for an answer, and getting none, "I hope
medium is fine then."