Romance in a Ghost Town

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Romance in a Ghost Town Page 10

by Robert P McAuley


  Once on the landing he was greeted once again with darkness. By the light from below he got to one of the windows and, following the proven procedure he used downstairs, soon had the six windows cleared of the light-stopping boards. Seeing clearly now, he noticed that the top floor was nothing more than a long corridor that gave entrance to four rooms.

  Wonder what’s behind door number one? thought Bob as he approached it. It was unlocked and opened without even a squeak. He entered and stumbled as his cane got caught on a small, round rug. Catching himself, he made out a desk in the dark and headed towards it using his cane to test the floorboards before him as he figured, I have to believe that there’s going to be a window behind this desk. Using his fingers he soon felt the familiar feel of the windowsill and using the same method as downstairs, soon had the room flooded in sunshine.

  The desk and seat behind it were covered with a sheet and there seemed to be less dust on this floor. He lifted the sheet and saw a straight pen, empty inkbottle and blotter. There was a stack of yellowed writing paper in the basket on the left hand side of the desk and the letterhead read: Rattlesnake Haven Town Hall. George Graham, Treasurer.

  “Wow!” said Bob to himself. “This is where the action took place.” Looking around, the New Yorker saw that the walls were covered with flowered wallpaper and seeing that the colors held up after all these years made him exclaim: “That’s one good thing about blocking out the light…no fading.” There was a covered picture hanging on the wall facing the desk and he removed the dusty cover to reveal an oil painting of a settler’s wagon being pulled by two Oxen. Boy, he thought, the artist really captured the heat of the desert in the yellows and reds used throughout. He left the door open as he stepped out into the corridor. Seeing the corner office he decided to go there next and happily saw the word MAYOR ALBERT LATHAM stenciled on the door.

  “Pay dirt!” he said as he reached for the handle. It too was unlocked and he went in. The light streaming in from the windows in the corridor helped him see his way around the mayor’s office and he easily made his way to the large window behind a covered desk. Once again Bob popped the boards off, brightening the room considerably. He gently rolled up the sheet covering the desk, folded and placed it on the floor. Next he removed the dusty chair cover and placed it next to the other sheet. Looking at the large, very ornate, impressive looking desk from the front he thought, Boy just thinking about facing the mayor must have given the regular guy the jitters. Whoever sat here knew how to impress the average folks with the oversized desk and all of its trappings.

  He walked around the desk and after brushing off the little amount of dust that slipped through, sat down. The seat of power, he thought, is stuffed with horsehair and very hard. He grinned as he gently tried to turn it on its swivel and succeeded as he was now facing Main Street. He thought as he saw the view, Boy, from here he could see the entire town. Bob opened the window some more and leaned out to take in the view. He used his hand over his eyes as a sunshield and suddenly realized that there was more to the town than the storefronts he had seen. Behind the stores on both sides of the street were houses of various sizes.

  “Homes! Of course! The town’s people had to live somewhere and I just assumed they lived in the back of their stores.” He mentally kicked himself as he backed away from the open window. “I have to check out at least one of them before the sun goes down.” On the way out of the office he saw an old black and white picture hanging on the wall of about one hundred people all posing in front of the Town Hall. He grinned as he thought looking at the little kids standing next to their parents, Bet they were chomping at the bit at have to stand still so long for that photographer to take that photo. Bob guessed it was a Sunday as they all wore their best clothing. Wanting to check out at least one of the houses before dark, he went as fast as he could and tripped on a floorboard that had curled slightly. He fell hard on his left leg and tore his jeans on the corner of a doorway.

  “Ahh!” he moaned as he gripped his knee. He was happy that he was alone as an old memory quickly came back to him. He had been walking in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park and thinking there was nobody around, tried to kick a stone. He missed and fell into the weeds on the side of the path he was on. Trying to get up he suddenly found himself being helped up by a group of kids. He saw the pity in their eyes and, even though he knew it was not the right answer, never went to the park again and always made sure that he didn’t relax in case there were others around.

  Now he crawled to his cane and felt warm fluid trickling down his shin. Bob went down the stairs and out the door to sit on the stairs in the bright sunlight. He moved the tear in his jeans to see how bad the cut was. He shook his head and headed towards the SUV. The walk left him wet and tired so he started the engine and put the air on as he caught his breath. After a moment he went to the rear tailgate and opened it using the remote, got his First-Aid kit and went back to his seat. He lowered his pant leg and saw the gash. Luckily I’m up on my Tetanus shot, he thought as he dabbed alcohol on it. Next he applied a germ fighting salve to it and covered it with a wide bandage. Really need to watch myself, he reminded himself as he reached into the cooler and took out a bottle of water. Feeling better as he took out the semi-used napkin from his pocket, he poured some water on it and wiped away the dried blood. “I do think that you’ve ended your usefulness,” he said to the paper napkin as he rolled it into a ball and put it in the plastic trash bag. He put the water back, took another Coke and put it in a small insulated carrying case and zippered it before opening his belt to string it through the bag’s handle so he didn’t have to carry it around by hand. Ready for his next adventure, he killed the air, then the engine and left the SUV to hobble across the street.

  Calvin’s Carpentry was not only boarded up but Bob could see that a professional carpenter did it. Not only were the windows boarded but also the door. He walked behind the row of stores and discovered a long open space between the rear of the stores and the front yards of the houses. He went to the closest one of the row of houses that ran straight as an arrow from the beginning to the end of town. The stairs were wooden and he stepped on the end of the slats, as that’s where he felt they were the strongest. The house had a small porch, which he treaded on gingerly. A swing sat on the porch floor as its overhead iron hooks had given away over the years. The door was the only opening not boarded up and he tried the lock. It took a few twists before it gave and he slowly opened the door.

  Once again the only light he had was from the open door and he very slowly went and unlocked and opened a window. He pushed the boards away easily and pulled them down from the top allowing light to enter the room. Bob looked around the small room and with the added light made out a couch and two easy chairs all covered in sheets and a light covering of dust. He removed the wood slats from a second window and saw that the room was a living room with a stand-up piano. The walls were covered in a light blue and white, thin-striped wallpaper that stopped at the brown wainscoting. Against the outside wall was a stone fireplace with an iron swing handle that still had a coffee pot hanging from it. Next to the fireplace was a stack of wood ready for use. This is like opening a history book, thought Bob as he headed towards an arched doorway and entered the kitchen.

  Once again he let in the sunlight from the single window in the room allowing him to make out a small table with four chairs. A tin sink was held up on four wooden legs and next to it was a pump handle for drawing water up from a well. Beneath the sink, were a drain and a tin pan. So, he thought grinning at their ingenuity, they simply pumped water up from the well into the sink and when they finished using it, pulled the plug and it drained into the pan beneath the sink for someone to carry outside and dump. Bob pressed down on the pump handle and was rewarded with a puff of dust. Boy, he thought, it might still be in working condition.

  The walls were covered in yellow flowered wallpaper that ended at the dark brown wainscoting and there was a drain board next to the sink f
or stacking wet dishes. Above the sink hung a wood and glass cabinet holding dishes, cups and glasses. He pulled open a drawer in a small cabinet next to the sink and thought as he saw knives, forks, spoons and a few utensils he didn’t recognize, I just cannot believe that everybody left everything behind when they left town. Boy do I have a mystery to solve. Closing the drawer, he went over to small fireplace. Hanging from an arm that swung over the fire pit was a big covered iron pot ready for cooking while sitting on the mantel were five more pots of various sizes. Next to the fireplace was a small wrought iron stove with two round lids on top. The notch in each lid told him that inserting a lever in the notch and lifting them allowed the owner to drop wood into the stove to burn. He spotted the short iron lid remover hanging on a peg next to the stove and inserting it into the lid’s notch, lifted it. It was not unlike looking down a manhole cover in the stovetop and he saw stacked firewood ready for igniting. He noted that the round, black, tin chimney from the stove’s rear entered the same chimney as the fireplace. Bob replaced the lid when a slight breeze got his attention and the windows thin and holed curtains flew in it for the first time in years.

  Back in the living room he spotted another door and opening it, saw a closet with wooden pegs for clothing. Off the living room was a staircase with a sturdy banister and as he started to climb them, felt his leg wound protest.

  “Okay, I’ll take it easy,” he said to himself as he listened to the stairs for any creaking sounds. Hearing none, he soon stood on the top landing of the small, two-story house.

  Once again he stood in a corridor with a single window facing him and three closed doors along the hallway. By now he became so adapt at throwing open a window and removing the wooden boards that he did it almost without thinking and paid for it by having the window slam shut on his fingers as the window sash broke. Yanking his fingers out of the window caused Bob to stumble back and he fell on his butt. He balled up his fingers as they throbbed and swelled.

  I’ve got to be more careful, he thought as he retrieved his cane and stood leaning against the wall, shaking first one hand and then the other as he switched holding his cane. He opened the cool pack hanging from his belt, took out the can of Coke and popped it before thinking and got a face full of foaming soda. He shook his head and just let it foam over the top onto the small rug. When it stopped he finished what was left of the cool drink.

  “Bob,” he said in a loud, berating tone of voice, “this is for real! No time to have an accident. There’s nobody here to save your butt if you get hurt. Smarten up and think before you do anything!”

  Feeling like he got the lesson, he put the empty can back in the cooler and stepped towards the first room. There was no lock on it and it swung open noiselessly. The light from the window in the corridor didn’t reach this room so, remembering his self-lecture he opted to use the light from his LED flashlight. He played the light across a bed and found the window to its left. He opened it and trying a different approach, stood back for a moment before using his cane to push the boards away from the window. Finally the room was bright enough for him to see that the linen curtains were slightly yellowed but felt supple and not dried out. The walls were papered with a sunflower pattern and an expensive looking oil lamp sat on a table next to the bed. At the foot of the bed was a wide, cushioned seat for sitting as one put their boots on. There was a small three-drawer dresser with a washbasin and pitcher on it. A bed sheet was placed over the bed to keep the dust out and he gently lowered it to see a slightly yellowed mattress and pillow. Pressing lightly, Bob grinned as he felt a softness that rivaled his bed back in Brooklyn. On the wall was a square section that was slightly brighter in color and it puzzled him for a moment. Suddenly he said, “A picture once hung there! That’s why it’s brighter than the rest of the wall, it blocked the sunlight from bleaching the spot.” Feeling smart at his conclusion he started out of the room and stopped as he thought, Bet I know what’s under the bed: Bet there’s a chamber pot. Turning back he lifted the edge of the sheet with his cane and grinned as he saw a porcelain pot that he knew was used instead of going outside to an outhouse at night. I wonder if there is an outhouse out the rear of this house?

  Bob left the door open, went to the next room and opened the door. By the ambient light of the windows he had uncovered he saw the outline of a large bed, dresser and a small table with the usual washbasin and water pitcher. Keeping with his plan, Bob opened the window and tore down the boards. The room mimicked the first in size and layout except that the window opened on the right hand side of the house and the bed was located against the inside wall. It had the same style of wallpaper as the first room. He went to the last room and took down the boards and saw that once more he stood in a bedroom, but this one was different. Instead of the normal sized bed was a much smaller one. Then he noticed that the wallpaper was blue with yellow ducks on it.

  “A baby’s room!” he exclaimed, gently pulling down the covering sheet. The bed covering and pillow matched the wallpaper print and he grinned, thinking, I hope that whoever slept here lived a long, happy life.

  Looking around he felt he had achieved something: Light streamed through all the windows of the house just as it had over one century ago. Satisfied, Bob went back downstairs and out the door, closing it behind him. He walked to the back of the house and saw that he had guessed correctly as, about twenty feet from the rear of the house, stood a typical outhouse. Looking at the rear of the next house he saw another outhouse and looking past saw that each house had its own outhouse.

  “Looks like you brought a town that once was full of hygienic folks”, Mister McKillop,” he happily said to himself as he walked back to Main Street. Noticing that the sun was getting lower, he checked his watch. “Wow! Six-thirty already! I’ve been removing wood slats from windows for over three hours.” He stood looking around as he wondered what to do next and suddenly felt tired. It’s the sun, he thought wiping his brow, I’m just not used to all of this heat and I have so much to do yet. Now I’m sorry that I told Ed and Katey that I’d be back tomorrow. He shrugged and went on as he walked back to the car, Oh well. One thing I’ve got is plenty of time.

  Once back at the SUV, Bob looked around knowing that he had to empty most of the supplies he brought along with him. “Well,” he said looking at the large building he was parked next to, “the Community Hall is as good a storage place as any other.”

  He went to the double doors of the one story building and this time he needed some twisting and pushing to force the lock open. The door swung open reluctantly and he peered in with the help of the light of the opening he stood in. Walking slowly and using his LED light he went to the window situated on the front right of the building, opened it and tore down the wood slats. With the light it threw in, he went to the front left window and did the same. The large hall was now half in light and he saw row after row of wooden benches, uncovered, except by dust, all facing the rear of the structure. In the middle of the room, where there was space enough for two more rows, was an open area where stood a pot-bellied stove with a tin chimney going from its rear up to the ceiling. There were three windows on each side of the building and he opened two, deciding to keep the rest covered for now. At the rear of the room, facing the benches was a lectern covered in a sheet and dust. Three chairs were placed behind it and these too were covered from the elements.

  Those must be for the top guys of the town, he thought as he walked down the side aisle towards the lectern. There were half a dozen oil lamps mounted along the wall and he grinned as he saw a dozen spittoons around the hall. Satisfied with his new supply house, he left and went back to the SUV. Taking one five-gallon gas can at a time, Bob placed them in the corner of the large room. Next he humped the so-called ‘light-weight’ generator off the tailgate and rolled it into the structure.

  Soon he had the SUV empty and his, newly designated, supply room started. Bob went to the lectern, removed the cover and after shaking the dust off, went to the firs
t bench seat facing it and wiped the coat of dust off of it. Satisfied, he sat down and with a grin said: “I propose that we reopen Rattlesnake Haven. All in favor say aye.” He turned and faced the empty room and with a shrug said, ‘Aye!” He again faced the lectern and continued with his mock meeting as he said, “The majority agrees and Rattlesnake Haven is hereby reopened and ready for whatever comes our way.” Feeling slightly foolish he got up and left, thinking, Can’t spend too much time playing, at least not yet. I have to get ready for the dark.

  Back at the SUV, the New Yorker went over his checklist as he unrolled his sleeping bag and spread it out inside the SUV’s spacious rear. “Flashlight, Coleman lamp, cooler…I think that’s all I need for a good night’s sleep.” He was about to check his watch and thought, forget what time it is, mister. Out here where there’s no electricity we go by when the sun goes down and its pretty low in the sky right now. But first, its dinnertime.

  Bob realized how hungry he was as he opened the cooler, rested it on the tailgate and sat on the edge as he selected his dinner. Tonight I’ll have the homemade vegetable soup and a grilled cheese on rye. From a netting, secured to the inside left of the vehicle he took out a small frying pan and a pot. Great idea Katey had, he thought as he opened the container of soup and emptied the contents into the pot. Next he took the frying pan and sprayed some Olive oil spray on it, placed a few slices of cheese between two slices of rye bread and put the sandwich on the pan. Ready to cook, he opened the Sterno holder and placed two Sterno wax burners in it and lit them. The blue/white flames started immediately and he placed the pot of soup on the holder over the first heat source and the frying pan over the second, sat back and waited for them to be heated up. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 7:30 and the shadows were growing longer.

 

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