The Little House Behind My Old Garage

The Little House Behind My Old Garage

Darion stepped into the midnight light that precipitated forth from the full moon above. Little did he know this time, in the endless bounds of the eternal night when the flows of magical power were at their fullest extent of their powers, that he would soon become what he had dreaded for his entire short mortal life. The night air was cool, the soft hum and swish of the passing cars a welcome sound to his ears. He walked quietly, alone, down the broken sidewalk of Harper Avenue - a street he knew all too well - and faded into the darkness beyond the reach of the neon street lamps above. The alley he entered scurried around the backyards of the dark houses that were at rest for the night - except for the villas of the wilder citizens who put on lush and extravagant parties that scandalous rumours flew forth from once the new born sun’s rays drove forth again into the world at large. The dark alley had been the playground of the innocent children who, unbeknownst to them - were the slaves of their parents who partied all night at these pompous affaires that Darion now avoided with all the will within his soul. He could almost see the children at play. Yet they mocked him - as the children had always mocked him. They mocked him not in the usual childlike xenophobic mockery innate in all of us - but in the pure hate filled mockery that Darion despised so much. Tonight he would change all that, tonight would see the new light. Inside the large house known only as 367 Jefferson Street, where the wealthy Kinlords lived and had resided now for six years, John Kinlord - the young adolescent dissident sat in the darkness of the kitchen looking out of the large French windows that faced the back yard and out into the alley beyond. Smiling an evil grin that was almost his trade mark - the bane of many a child and an ill omen for most adolescents in the area - he watched Darion walk slowly, but with conviction, down

the street. Slowly, he raised himself and went to the fridge door, opened it, retrieved the pitcher of apple juice and then closed the door. He silently went to the cupboard that contained the drinking glasses and got himself a tall juice glass that he then filled with the golden liquid from the pitcher still watching Darion in the alley below. He drank the juice down and poured himself another as he watched Darion reach the back gate of the Penner’s house two doors down and across the alley. Fascinated, John Kinlord watched Darion open the gate, step into the yard and then disappear into the shadows beyond. Losing sight of his prey, he quietly replaced the apple juice pitcher in the fridge, checked his pockets for his “tools” and then placed the used juice glass in the sink. Slowly and cautiously he made his way to the sliding patio doors that led out onto the deck and then slipped quietly into his backyard and into the darkness beyond. Two seconds later, the front door of the O’Riely house two doors down from the Kinlords opened and Shorty stepped onto the broken asphalt of his driveway. Slowly he walked to his old faded blue clunker that was parked behind his parent’s Mercedes and unlocked the door. He got in, started the engine & then shifted the car into gear, pulling out into Jefferson Street. He turned left and headed toward Harper Avenue, checking his rearview mirror to make sure that nobody was following him. At the end of Jefferson, he turned northward onto Harper slowly fading into the rest of the midnight traffic. Samantha Cox stepped onto her balcony dressed only in her bathrobe and slippers. The cool night breeze did not bother her, nor did the fact that the local bully John Kinlord was stalking somebody at this horrendous hour down in the alley that separated her street from that of John’s. Actually, it fascinated her and she quietly took the binoculars, which were her sixteenth birthday present, out of her desk drawer and watched John even closer. He was headed to the closed gate of the Penner’s house three doors away. When he ducked behind the shadows of the trees, she lost

sight of him. Softly, she put the binoculars on her desk and stepped back onto the balcony, climbed into her Tree - and as she had done countless times since she was a young child - nimbly slipped down to her backyard below. She didn’t even mind that she was in her bathrobe and underwear in fact John would probably get a kick out of the fact that she would be stalking HIM in her underwear and bathrobe. The light came on inside the garage and Simon Penner looked intently at the ground below him. This was indeed a great night, he thought as he gently placed the leather bag and hand made wooden box upon the dusty concrete floor below. Gingerly he traced a circle in the dust, being careful to keep it incomplete on the north-eastern edge. Simon then looked around again and pulled forth four candles from his leather bag: one gold; one silver; one black and the last one white. Softly he placed them at each of the compass points on the circle and then lit them with a prayer. Then he drew forth an incense catcher and a long stick of Dragonsblood from the leather bag and set them up in the centre of the circle. Lighting the Dragonsblood, he smiled as the sweet smoke filled his nostrils and calmed his turbulent soul. Tonight would indeed be a great night. Officer Garot sat silently sipping his black coffee in the cold seat of the all-night diner. Absently he looked up and watched an old faded blue clunker drive down Harper Avenue past the diner. Again, almost absently, he sipped his coffee and smiled. Tonight was quiet - that’s the way he liked it. The burning bud dropped to the cement and was just quickly smashed by the tip of a red shoe. Jessica Younglington opened the door of the cab and softly gave the driver the instructions to get her back to her house on Jefferson Street. Tiredly, she leaned back into the seat of the cab and absently watched the stores and shops on the sides of the street fade from her memory. She brushed an annoying lock of hair out of her face as the cab turned onto Harper Avenue and drove past the all-

night diner. She noticed the squad car numbered 367 parked in the diner’s parking lot and smiled. At least that was to be expected. She was still thinking about the squad car when the cab turned right onto Jefferson Street and then came to a stop. She payed the cabby and stepped out of the car. Closing the door, she turned and walked - her hips swaying ladylike in the light of the nearby street lamp - up to the front door of her parent’s house. She got out her key from her purse, unlocked the door and then stepped inside. Quietly, she made her way to the kitchen at the back of the house and poured herself some red wine. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she sipped at her drink while her eyes wandered into the alley behind. Mrs. Peters stepped out of the dimly lit gardens of the Hieophant’s house. Roger Hieophant was such a perfectionist, she thought dully, always holding these bloody parties and boasting over this bloody garden of his. Sickly for a man of his age to act like such an immature young twit. Slowly she walked over to the rose garden and smelt the flowers, rich but sickly for some reason. Maybe it’s just the booze, Mrs. Peters thoughts. Absently her gaze strayed into the alley behind and she saw shadows playing in the recesses of the darkened road. Damn, shouldn’t drink so much. Inside the house was warm, Muzak playing softly as Mr. Hieophant’s guests cluttered around tables and the bar - talking about nothing at all yet the room was filled with the loud murmur of mortals talking as if what they spoke of was actually important. Roger Hieophant, a tall man in his late forties was talking with Henry Kinlord, his wife Sarah, Connor O’Riely, his wife Rita and George Younglington. The party was going quite well, Hieophant thought as he silently sipped at his rye and coke while listening to the chatter of Henry Kinlord and George Younglington. What a bore, he thought. Excusing himself from the group, he walked around the room for a while greeting more guests, yet slowly making his way outside into the backyard and his beloved gardens. He ignored Silvia Peters, who was in the corner of the gardens admiring his prized roses, but instead

made his way to the opposite side where his lilacs were located. From this vantage point he could see the entire alley and he watched as the shadows played their deadly games beyond. Upstairs, in the darkness of the room, Candance Hieophant sat, her arms lovingly around the neck of her boyfriend Norbert Peters who quietly fondled her breasts. What a night, she thought, father entertaining his guests below without even a hint that I am up here loving with Norbert. What a dream. I wish this night would go on forever. Slowly she laid back as Norbert’s flashy tongue caressed her hardened nipples. She moaned softly as he drew nearer to her hot body. Tonight is a dream, she kept thinking. The truck driver was explaining to the two police officers how exactly the faded blue clunker had crashed directly into his rig. The young man driving the car had died on impact and as the truck driver explained, the old clunker deliberately swerved into his rig from the other lane on Harper Avenue as it approached Farris Bridge. There was nothing he could have done to avoid the car. The driver must have wanted to commit suicide. The truck driver was taken to the hospital and watched for the rest of the night as the wreckage on Harper Avenue was cleaned up. Sargent André Resoluni stepped up to the door of the O’Riely’s house. Nervously he rang the door bell. How he hated his job - especially this part. Why was he always the bearer of bad news to these poor families? He looked over his shoulder to his partner, Officer Garot, who simply shrugged his shoulders. He rang the bell again, still no answer. He looked down at his digital watch which read 12:24:28 AM. Nobody home? Strange, unless they were out of town, or maybe just out for the night… The lights of the café dimmed as the shop owner locked the door. He yawned with much enthusiasm and slid the sign into the closed position. He stretched his arms and made his way to the back of the café where his only midnight waitress, Gina Resoluni, waited patiently to be let out.

They exchanged small talk as they always did and then he watched her walk slowly to her car, get in and drive off toward the east end and her apartment there. Sad, he thought, to be alienated from your father like that. Oh well, what can I do? I’m just a café owner, not a family therapist. Slowly, he got into his car and drove off to his house on Lillian Street off of Harper Avenue. As he passed Jefferson Street, he noticed the many cars parked at the Hieophant’s house. Roger was having another of his parties, no doubt. Oh well, that’s life when you work until midnight every night. You miss all these great social occasions. He parked his car on the street and went into the house. He stepped into the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of milk. He then went to the far cupboard and got himself the strawberry flavouring he loved so much and poured it into his milk. As he stirred his drink, he walked over to the patio doors and stepped out onto the deck intending to enjoy some cool night air. That was when he noticed the light on in his garage. Strange, Mr. Penner thought. Sarah Kinlord was standing near the Hieophant’s front door when the door bell rang unexpectedly. Roger Hieophant rushed to the door only to find Sargent Resoluni and Officer Garot standing there inquiring whether the O’Riely’s were in attendance at the party. Roger immediately called them over and the only thing Sarah Kinlord heard was something about an “accident.” Connor and Rita left hastily with the two police officers - an action which was followed by chaos running rampant thru the party. Everyone was asking about the “accident.” Quietly Norbert Peters slid out of Candance’s room and onto the roof of the Hieophant’s house. For some reason, there were no party goers in the back yard and he was able to expertly make his way to the tree not far away without being seen. There was still quite a lot of noise coming from the inside of the house as he dropped into the alley from the tree branches. He smiled as he began to walk easily toward his house in the darkness, the ecstasy of the night still filling him with warmth and glee. It had been a good night and now off to bed with good dreams. He wouldn’t have to worry

about his Mother - it sounded as if the Hieophant’s party was just switching into high gear. She wouldn’t be home until much later. As he passed the Penner’s gate, he was surprised to see Samantha Cox, in her bathrobe no less, running with terror filled eyes back to her house down the street. A few seconds later Darion came running out with equal haste heading toward Harper Avenue and finally John Kinlord running back to his house across the alley - his eyes as fearful as those of Samantha’s and Darion’s. Strange, Norbert thought, but then he silently continued his walk. Once back at his house he entered the kitchen and watched the alley, again dark and motionless as before. But for some reason he did not feel at ease. He felt as if someone was watching him from far away, someone that could see all of his movements. He looked up to see Samantha Cox on her balcony with her binoculars trained on him. Smiling up at her, he noticed she was smiling back at him. Slowly, he turned off the light in the kitchen and climbed up to his room above. Sleep at last filled his soul knowing that the morning would take care of itself.

Copyright ©1997 Spicer Publishing Company