Neighbor

Neighbor

Jeffrey Lynn Stoddard

jls@worldofimaginationonline.com

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Jeffrey Lynn Stoddard

Published by Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table Of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

About the Author

Other Titles

Preface

No matter where you live, invariably there is a neighboring house standing in a deliberate state of disrepair. You might have one on the lot next to your house, yes? It is because of the existence of these dilapidated dwellings that - haunted or not - emerge ghostly tales, legends and spooky campfire narratives. Let's face it, without adding the word 'haunted', a house is just plain boring. Which would be more interesting… You know that creepy old house down the block? Well, it's there or You know that creepy old house down the block? It's haunted to the ceiling with hot and cold running ghosts. By adding the 'haunted element' the interest factor immediately rises by 1000%.

The resulting lowering of surrounding property values aside, it is to these dwellings that I owe this book. In the first draft of 'Neighbor' I had spirits playing a more active role throughout the story, giving it that good ol' haunted house aspect that so easily thrills and chills us. Subsequent rewrites, however, placed less emphasis on the supernatural aspect and more on the human players (who can be just as spooky). This served to leave up to reader the determination as to whether the house was actually haunted or merely receiving bad press by certain flesh and bone characters.

The murder/mystery attribute of the manuscript had always been there but I determined that, because of the overwhelming presence of the restless spirits haunting the first draft, this aspect had been forced to take a backseat. In my mind that tended to diminish the story's effectiveness. Therefore, I tore through the manuscript with a heavy hand, tossing ghosts out on their ectoplasmic asses left and right until finally arriving at a more comfortable and realistic storyline. There had to be compromises, of course, since I had always intended this to be one of a supernatural nature. Therefore, the spooky old black and white television set in the attic was born, along with its mysterious source of power and reason. Oh, do not fear, the spirits are still alive and well in 'Neighbor', it's just that they do more work in the background and this leaves more to the reader's imagination - the spookiest place around.

Chapter 1

Welcome to the neighborhood, Bruce Dent said, startling the man in the living room who had his back to the hallway.

Twirling around abruptly, 28 year old James Ferguson blew out a large breath of relief once recognizing his neighbor. Oh, Bruce, you scared the hell out of me. His heartbeat was momentarily elevated, and for the briefest of time he considered diving behind a pile of boxes to hide from whatever impending danger his startled mind perceived.

Sorry, Bruce said with a chuckle. Your door was open and… I thought you heard me knock.

James donned an embarrassed smile. No, I was too deeply buried in this mess to hear it, I guess. He turned back to survey the veritable sea of unpacked cardboard boxes stacked in the living room.

The compact front room could not have been in a greater state of disarray. The hardwood floor, glass coffee table, even the tan upholstered couch and recliner were piled with boxes of books, knickknacks, CDs and DVDs. Even present were assorted boxes of clothing that had inadvertently not made it to the two bedrooms upstairs when his belongings had been brought inside the house. About the only items that had not been piled on were the bookshelves and the grandfather clock which were standing along the back wall of the cheery room whose white walls and ceiling made for a bright and comfortable atmosphere.

Making any progress? Bruce asked.

James shook his head. You’d think so from the pile of flattened boxes in the front yard, but from in here you’d never know it. In fact, I think all this stuff is somehow multiplying.

Yeah, it can seem that way. You need any help with anything?

Thanks, but the mover’s took care of all the heavy work so now it’s just a matter of organization. Again James scanned the room and took in the scope of the unfinished unpacking laid out around him. He shook his head. When did I accumulate so much crap?

It adds up fast, Bruce agreed with a nod.

Well, to be fair, I had some help buying all this.

Bruce scratched his short blond beard. Yeah, been married three times so I know what you mean.

James nodded, casting a glance across the room to the window and then down to his watch. Is it that late? I had no idea that it was even starting to get dark outside. I guess I got so wrapped up in the unpacking that I lost all track of time.

Have you eaten yet?

Not only had James not eaten since he left work early at noon, but until the subject had been broached he did not even know that he was hungry. Actually, no.

Tell you what, since your place is in a state of chaos and my cooking leaves a lot to be desired, how about I treat you to a meal at the pharmacy lunch counter? Bruce offered with a smile.

Remembering his kitchen in the rear of the house to be only marginally less cluttered than the front room, James agreed to the proposal without hesitation. He quickly headed for the upstairs bathroom where he performed a cursory washing of his hands and face before jogging to the bedroom to put on some jeans and a shirt that did not look to have been lived in for a month. Moments later, he was clomping back down the polished wooden staircase to join his neighbor who waited at the front door.

James grabbed his jacket and baseball cap off the free-standing coat rack that stood beside the door, and slipping the items on he and Bruce stepped out into the dark evening air. Passing the front window, James glanced at his reflection and adjusted the cap, which he always wore backwards, and then continued following Bruce out toward the cement driveway.

Your car or mine? James asked, fishing in his pocket for his car keys in the event that he was to play the chauffeur.

Are you too tired to walk? It’s less than a mile and I could use a little fresh air after being cooped up in the car all day.

No, that’s fine. I need the exercise, James conceded, releasing the keys.

To his right, the accumulation of stacked, flattened boxes appeared to suggest that he had packed enough to stock a mansion of considerable size instead of the two-bedroom, two-story house that it actually was. This pile represented a half day’s work and he though it a rather pitiful display, considering what monumental task still lay ahead of him. All in all, though, no matter how slow his progress, James was making headway and that was all that mattered.

Glancing across the darkened yard to the lights within Bruce’s house on the neighboring lot; 1121 Shadow Drive, James briefly considered how lucky he had been to have such an amiable neighbor on the one side of him. Bruce was quiet, a trait that James appreciated in a human being, and this was amplified by the fact that he was gone on business a good portion of the time. It seemed that Bruce actually spent more time out of town than he did at home, which made for feelings of isolation in that there were only 3 houses on this portion of the road that cut through the heavily wooded area responsible for the street name.

Bruce had mentioned his having suffered through 3 divorces, but he was not alone on that account for James was also recovering from a separation. He and Will, his lover of many years, had recently split up, so he, too, sought comfort wherever it lurked. Buying a house in the country neighborhood afforded James the solitude he needed with which to recover from the breakup, and having a new neighbor who was friendly – and offering to buy dinner – had proven to be a welcomed bonus.

Stepping onto the graveled driveway, James cried out, BEAVER! This was followed with a whistle to which an over-ambitious medium-sized female mixed-breed puppy bounded out from behind the side of the house.

Odd name for a dog, the neighbor said with a turn of his head.

James reached down to pat Beaver’s bobbing head. When she was young her face looked like a beaver so I called her that.

Doesn’t look like a beaver to me.

Well, she’s pretty much grown out of the beaver look, yeah, but she’s used to the name now, James said, smiling. He then turned back to the dog. Wanna go for a walk, girl?

The animal immediately responded by bounding around the two men happily; her loose ears flapping against the sides of her head as she jumped. Without having to be asked a second time the dog then darted to the end of the driveway where she turned at the paved street and anxiously awaited her human counterparts, who were obviously wasting far too much time in catching up. This was evidenced by the eager dancing of her two front legs with an occasional turn in a complete circle. Her overenthusiastic prancing and theatrics obviously not getting the point across succinctly, she then barked twice and wagged her tail excitedly.

All right, James told her with a chuckle. We’re coming.

Excitable, isn’t she? Bruce told his new friend and neighbor.

Turning onto the roadway James glanced back to his home bearing 1117 boldly in brass numbers on the wall beneath the porch light. He admired its welcoming atmosphere and quaint simplicity, which was added to by the undeveloped front yard. This, in turn, reminded him of his original plans to plant a lawn and spruce it up a bit when he first laid eyes on the place, but landscaping would come in due time. Until then, the weeds and uneven ground would have to suffice for a yard that conveyed that natural look.

When did you get back? James asked with a glance back to Bruce’s empty driveway. I didn’t see your car in the drive so I assumed that you were still out.

I put it in the garage. It was easier to take my suitcase directly into the house that way rather than toting it across the yard.

So, how’d your trip go?

It was a long one but I got a lot accomplished, Bruce told him.

Get everybody up to speed on navigating through the new computer program?

The first go-round, yeah. I’ll be heading back to Portland again in a few days for the second seminar.

How many are there in all? James asked.

Four.

Four trips down and back? That’s a lot of driving.

That’s nothing. I’ve got Spokane, Vancouver, Canada, and Medford, Oregon lined up for the next month. After that I head down to California; Sacramento, L.A., and San Diego.

How many agencies buy your firm’s software?

Enough to keep me and fifty-nine other trainers all over the world busy around the clock.

Good thing you like traveling, James said with a sigh.

I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love getting out and seeing the country.

Well, better you than me. How was the drive?

Fine, no problems. You should have seen the hotel room the company put me up in.

Nice? James asked.

Cost almost $1,500 a night.

James felt his jaw drop. Excuse me?

Pretty fancy room. Jacuzzi, bar, full kitchen, two bedrooms.

All that for one guy?

What can I say? The company’s got bucks. The software isn’t exactly inexpensive.

Damn, James uttered; this exclamation bringing the conversation to a brief halt as the two continued following the enthusiastic dog who bounded merrily ahead of them, sniffing everything in her path.

Occupying this stretch of road were three houses; James having purchased the one sandwiched between the other two. To the right of his stood Bruce’s home, a single-story two-bedroom dwelling that was more than adequate for the bachelor. To the left of James’ house sat a two-story home that looked to have seen much better days. Even the house number, 1113, seemed to hint of a foreboding and sinister nature; one in which somebody might expect to see a vampire rush out and bite them on the neck, or a chainsaw wielding maniac to slice up the neighbors as they slept soundly in their beds.

Set back on the property somewhat, the dark house appeared as if to be haunted to the rafters with every conceivable thing that could possibly go bump in the night. A small porch with its sagging roof overhang ran from front to back around the right side of the dilapidated structure giving it the feel of a half-finished moat that was trying to protect it somehow. The large dark window on the upper floor in front felt like a big black eyeball that watched his every move when passing by the place and it was partly because of this that James tried his best not to look at it when out walking. Yet, like a traffic accident, it seemed impossible to look away.

The house appeared almost evil somehow. It was not all that old, possibly ten years or so, but it was decidedly rundown and in dire need of repair and paint. The scattered remnants of a white coat from times past still clung to the brown weather-beaten wood while the sagging roof was a mere shadow of its former self, looking like it would let in every single raindrop that fell with little, if any, resistance.

What’s going on with that place? James asked as they passed the long cement driveway.

Needs a lot of repair. The three guys renting it are really tearing the hell out of it, Bruce said, sounding almost angry.

The car that James had seen parked in front of the decaying home on visits to the area prior to his having moved into his own house had been gone all day and this absence only added to the home’s look of abandonment. Adding to this were the slender, almost haunting strings of white light that cascaded through the tree line dividing the two properties from the vapor lamp in James’ driveway which cast lengthy shadows across the front of the spooky building. The dark windows again felt to be watching James as he passed before the overgrown weeds and brush that, much like his own, occupied the front yard. All tolled, James felt very uncomfortable walking in front of the property, especially at night, and hastened his pace somewhat.

To look at it you’d never know anybody could live there. Seems kinda spooky, actually, James said with a shiver. He forced his eyes back to the path ahead to find Beaver now walking down the center of the road. Beaver. Get out of the road. Get over here, he demanded, snapping his fingers. Obediently the dog came trotting back and fell into step beside him, wagging her tail.

You have to work tomorrow? Bruce asked.

Unfortunately, James groaned.

You don’t get weekends off?

Only Sundays.

Wow. Bummer.

It’ll certainly slow down the unpacking process, that’s for sure, he said with a sigh, wishing that he could stay home from the Library for at least one more day to tackle the unpacking.

Well, if I can be of any help when I’m here…

Thanks, I appreciate that. Beaver, he again called to the animal who had worked her way over to the center of the road again without his noticing her doing so.

Having finally safely passed the House-O-Creeps and reigning in his dog for the second time, James found it a little easier to enjoy the walk while scanning the dark forest lining either side of the road and assuming that Beaver would alert them to any crouching marauders.

Spring was definitely in the air, although enough of winter was still present to require jackets for any evening strolls. Wafting into James’ nostrils were the sweet smells of the surrounding woods. It was a clean, fresh aroma that hinted of new vegetation.

Where are we going again? James asked.

The pharmacy. It’s got a lunch counter that serves meals all day long. Come to think of it, I think Kyle bats for your team. Maybe the two of you will get some sparks going, eh? Bruce said with a small laugh, adding, He’s about your age, too.

This seemed a rather odd statement, coming from a straight man who James figured to only be a couple years older than him. One never knows, came James’ non-committal reply.

In reality, James rather considered himself to be the only gay man in this neck of the woods. Up the freeway about 30 miles was the capitol of Washington, Olympia, and he knew that to be somewhat populated with those of his persuasion, but in this little hamlet of few homes and a very small downtown area he felt it a pretty good guess that he was the token homosexual. This, apparently, was not the case. Besides, having just surfaced from the discomfort of a breakup, James was not at all interested in dating again. Not yet.

Their road took a gradual turn to the left with the trees eventually giving way to the lights of the little town ahead. This is such a nice area. Quiet, friendly people. I’m glad I moved here.

I’m kinda glad you did, too, Bruce said with a friendly pop in James’ arm. For a gay guy, you’re not half bad.

For a straight guy, you’re not half bad, either, James countered, jabbing his new neighbor in the side with an elbow.

An even silence then grabbed hold of the air, the only sounds being their feet upon the pavement and the jingling of Beaver’s tags. Glancing up, James marveled at the clarity of the nighttime sky while simultaneously comparing the endless parade of stars with an equal amount of things needing to be unpacked back home.

Nearing the center of the small town ten minutes later, the two men spotted the pharmacy which faced the main street; James suddenly experiencing the warm fuzzy anticipation of food in his stomach as they neared. Surrounding this store were the few scattered and aging buildings that made up what was considered to be the center of town, most of them small and all family run.

Pushing open the pharmacy door with an audible ring from an overhead bell, the two men stepped inside to be greeted by the tall attractive man in a candy striped apron behind the long soda counter. He was drying a glass with a white towel.

Hey! We don’t allow your kind in here! he barked at them.

You’d let cockroaches in if they had the money, Bruce barked back with a smile.

Only if they tip well. That your doggie out there? Kyle asked Bruce.

No, mine, James said proudly while wondering if some obscure health law existed wherein Beaver was not allowed within so many feet of the establishment.

Oh? Well, don’t leave it out in the cold.

You can have a dog in the store? James asked in amazement.

Kyle shook his head. No, but I don’t think the health department is lurking about so bring him in. He can lay down by the door.

She, James corrected and complied, with a very grateful Beaver showing her appreciation with what looked to be a big smile and a widely swaying tail.

Kyle, this is my new neighbor, James, Bruce introduced as the two approached the counter.

James took the hand being extended across the counter and shook it while admiring the man attached to it. While he had not been expecting much, he now found himself quite pleasantly surprised at the sight of such an attractive man. Kyle appeared to match James’ six-foot height, their slender builds showing a similarity in their weight as well.

Kyle Braden, the man behind the counter introduced with a smile beneath the black mustache that matched his cropped hair.

James Ferguson, James said while feeling strangely aroused by the extended handshake.

Nice to meet you, James. Have a seat, gentlemen. Coffee?

Both men politely accepted and Kyle walked away to retrieve cups and the coffee carafe with James’ eyes glued to his ass the entire way.

What brings you two out tonight? Kyle asked with a turn.

Dinner, Bruce told him. You are still cooking, aren’t you?

I’m always cooking, he said, this statement being directed solely at James who felt a sudden warmth in the pit of his stomach. Plucking up the cups and coffee decanter, he returned and deftly poured the drinks without losing a single drop. Welcome to our little neck of the woods, he told James.

Thanks.

What made you choose our hamlet?

He just broke up with his partner, Bruce said suddenly.

James quickly glanced at the large mirror adorning the wall behind the counter and detected a considerable amount of red on his face, this confirming the blush he thought to be feeling at Bruce’s abrupt confession on his behalf.

Yeah, that’s rough. Well, I’m sorry that things didn’t work out for the two of you, but hopefully it was for the best. Onward and upward, right? Kyle said with a smile.

James nodded. Yeah, I hope so.

Where did you move from?

Tacoma.

Oh, so you’re not new to this area.

James shook his head silently, knowing without looking that his blush was getting worse under Kyle’s continuing stare and absolutely perfect smile and sexy green eyes.

I think you’ll like it here. So you bought the Richardson house?

Yep, Bruce answered for James. Nice to have a neighbor again after all that time.

Nice to see some new blood in the town, too, Kyle said with a wink to James. So? What can I bring you two to eat?

With a quick glance through the menu, James and Bruce placed their orders and Kyle quickly disappeared through the back wall to the kitchen. James then took this opportunity to glance around and acquaint himself with the well-lit establishment. Two long rows of shelving paralleled each other from the front to the rear of the store; every visible inch being stocked with merchandise. Along the back wall sat the pharmacy counter, although an aluminum security grille had been pulled across and locked to protect its contents. A quick glance in the other direction proved Beaver to be behaving herself and staying where she was told. This was not to say, however, that her eyes had left James for a single minute.

So, how long were you and your partner together? Bruce asked while stirring a second spoonful of sugar into his steaming cup.

Eight years.

That’s quite a long time. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between you two?

Oh, nothing really dramatic. We just lost the magic between us and decided it was best to move on before we reached the point of things getting ugly, James said, briefly thinking back to the amiable breakup that could have turned volatile had they remained together much longer.

I wish my divorces had been that uneventful. Two were very unpleasant, and the third was practically a knock-down drag-out.

James shook his head. Sorry to hear that.

Yeah, well, at least they’re over with. Are you on speaking terms with your ex?

How is it you’re so accepting of me, James suddenly asked.

Bruce looked surprised. Why shouldn’t I be?

What I mean is that most people would run for the hills the minute they found out I was gay, but you seem to be taking it with a grain of salt.

Did you head for the hills when you found out I was straight? Bruce asked with a crooked smile.

No, of course not.

Then why should I?

Because he’s got a brain and chooses to use it, Kyle told them both as he emerged from the back carrying two small dinner salads, unlike a large segment of the population who would rather parrot nonsensical talking points than put any effort into thinking for themselves. He set the plates down before the two. "And, by the way, would you two please