Tom Deady - Haven

“What’s up, Denny?”

“Not much, I’m looking for Bear. Thought he might have wandered down here.” Denny glanced around not expecting to find Bear but hoping to see Julie.

“Nope, haven’t seen him, and she’s not home, either,” he added with a wink. He threw the ball up and took a couple unsteady steps back and caught it again. “Want me help you look for him?”

“I don’t know where else to look. Maybe I’ll just wait and see if he comes home on his own. We still camping out this weekend?”

“Sure, why not. My dad said we could use his tent and lanterns if we’re careful.”

Denny liked the idea of having the tent instead of sleeping out in the open. “Sounds great. We can start out right after school Friday.”

“I’ll bring the tent and stuff up Thursday after school and catch the bus with you on Friday. We can hike until it starts getting dark, and then set up camp. My dad says there’s some caves a couple miles in.” He threw the ball again and waited for it to bounce down. When it did, Denny leaped up next to him and deftly caught it one-handed. Denny threw it back up and they fought each other to catch it, immediately caught up in a game of “off the roof.” When the dark blue car drove slowly up the hill, both boys paused to stare. Both assumed it was someone visiting Cat-woman and resumed the game.

The car bumped off the smooth pavement onto dirt, a moment later turning into the driveway of Paul Greymore’s house. Paul sat staring at the house, unable to believe where he was. He knew most people sent to prison for the length of time he was would have made arrangements to sell their house, but he couldn’t bear to part with it. He felt he would have been giving away the last part of himself that existed before going to prison. For the entire time he was locked up, he had secretly hoped that someday he would return and now here he was. The angle of the sun as it began to dip behind the trees created odd shadows, giving the old house a surrealistic look.

Sensing Paul’s fragile mood, McCarthy spoke. “I still owe you a grand tour of Haven but I thought we should take a look around up here before it gets dark. I wish I could have had the place cleaned up for you before you got here.”

After the incident at the gas station the day before, Greymore had spent a restless evening waiting for a visit from Chief Crawford, but it never came. Today, he and McCarthy had gotten Paul’s bank account in order, visited the DMV to find out what Paul needed to get a new driver’s license… normal person things… before coming back out to check on the house.

“Please, Father, you’ve done more than enough as it is. Let’s have a look.”

The two men got out of the car and went up to the front door, carefully avoiding the rotten planks of the steps and porch.

“Hope the key still works,” Paul said pulling it from his pocket. He licked his lips nervously and put the key in the lock, trying to hide the shake in his hands. The old lock resisted, frozen in place by time and the elements. Paul pushed the door and the wood holding the lock crumbled. He pushed again, and with a screech of protest, the door opened and Paul stepped inside his childhood home. The closed-up smell of the house hit him immediately, as did a deep sense of nostalgia, engulfing him as he stood looking at the living room.

The old priest put his hand on Paul’s shoulder, “Let’s look around, you’ll have plenty of time to think later.”

Paul nodded and began making his way through the house, every step bringing back more memories. His father teaching him how to tie his own flies, his mother baking cookies while he stood on a chair helping her with the batter, the three of them playing rummy, the laughter and the love.

Even in the fading light he moved familiarly through each room, assessing what would have to be done. Surprisingly, the damage was minimal. Mostly broken windows from vandals and some wood rot, but structurally the old house seemed sound and mostly needed cosmetic work and lots of fresh air. The reputation of the Butcher had kept the worst of the vandals away throughout the years. As they appraised the bedrooms upstairs, Paul jumped as a scratching sound came from above.

Billy and Denny played off-the-roof tirelessly, neither paying any attention to the time of day. Sometime later, Billy was winning by two points when he threw the ball up. Both boys pushed and shoved. Denny, tall and wiry, against Billy’s slightly shorter, yet bulkier frame. They jockeyed for position but the ball never came down. “Did it go over?”

Billy shook his head, “Nah, it’s stuck in the gutter.”

Denny stared up at the gutter, wondering how many balls they had lost up there over the years. When he looked down, he was surprised to see how long the shadows had grown. The sun was beginning to dip below the tree line. “I gotta get home, anyway.”

Billy looked around, also surprised by how quickly it was getting dark. The heat made them forget that it was only May and the days were still shorter than the summer days it felt like. “Want my dad to drive you up the hill?”

Denny hesitated, it would be nice not to have to walk by the Greymore place but he didn’t want to sound chicken. “No, I’ll walk. Only takes a few minutes.” Especially if I run.

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“See you later.” They slapped palms and went their different ways; Billy to the comfort of his house and Denny to a darkening walk up the hill.

Once the sun began to go down, the temperature went down with it. Denny was covered with sweat from the game but was beginning to get chilled as he headed up the hill. The sun was fully behind the trees now, leaving the street bathed in an eerie orange-yellow light. The shadows cast by the mostly-bare trees looked like prison bars on the ground around him. As he approached the Greymore house he began to get nervous. All the stories about the Butcher floated through his mind. Once while getting his hair cut he overheard some of the older men talking. They said some of the bodies were found completely skinned, others with various parts missing; most were never found at all.

As he reached the overgrown hedge at the start of the Greymore property he suddenly stopped. His heart was now racing. Did I just hear voices? He told himself he was being silly and continued walking. The sunlight squeezing through the bare trees was growing dimmer as the sun set, now casting a reddish glow over everything. The darkness would soon close in on Denny. He reached the opening in the hedges at the start of the driveway and this time it was what he saw that made him stop. There was a car parked in the driveway! Denny stood frozen for a moment staring at the car. Time seemed to stand still as his mind reeled to understand what this meant. His paralysis was broken by the sound of rusty hinges groaning in protest after years of immobility. It was this sound that sent him running up the hill for home not once looking back to see who… or what… came out the front door of the Greymore house.

“I guess we might need an exterminator.” Paul commented as another creature scampered across the attic above them.

“Probably mice or squirrels,” the priest offered as they made their way back down the stairs.

Paul nodded, “You’re sure it’s no trouble for me to stay with you until I get this place in shape? It may take a while.”

“Not a problem Paul, take all the time you need.” They both stopped at the front door when they noticed the figure of a boy silhouetted in the dimming light at the bottom of the driveway. Father McCarthy squinted, trying to get a clearer look at the boy’s features. He pushed open the screen door to step out on the porch when suddenly the boy turned and ran up the hill. The old priest stood on the porch looking in the direction that the boy had gone.