by Mac Flynn
Chapter 3
This was more up Stan’s alley, and he strode in with the confidence to assess whether it was salvageable or in need of complete destruction. Lenore followed behind him, and Nick brought up the rear. The inside of the house was even more dark and gloomy than the outside. Shadows ruled the corners of every room and a constant haze of dust hung in the air. The walls were covered with peeling wallpaper and every wooden board beneath their feet was scuffed, scratched and creaked.
The front of the house was a small entrance hall with a staircase in front of them and a hall leading to the rear of the house beside that. On the corridor wall beneath staircase was a closed door that led to the basement. On either side of them was an entrance arch that led to a parlor and dining hall. The ceilings were ten feet tall, and above their heads swayed an elegant, golden chandelier covered in decades of dust and cobwebs.
“You’ll have to excuse the dust. I haven’t had time to clean up this part of the house,” Nick told them.
Lenore peeked her head around the left archway and saw it was a filthy dining room. “What have you cleaned up?” she asked him.
“Just the upstairs to sleep and the basement to store my furniture,” he replied. He noticed Stan pause in his inspection of a wall and Lenore shudder. “Did I say something wrong?”
“It’s not your fault, Nick,” Stan spoke up. “We just have some history with the house. We snuck in here when we were kids and it-well, it scared the shit out of us.”
Nick smiled. “I can’t blame you. The shadows in this place worry even me sometimes.”
Stan shook his head. “It’s not only that. We snuck down into the basement through one of the windows and couldn’t get out. We were stuck here overnight, and who knows how much longer if a neighbor walking their dog hadn’t heard our screams.”
Nick’s humor fled and he glanced between them.. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of something that awful.”
“It’s fine. You’re going to heal a lot of wounds by fixing this place up,” Stan told him.
“That depends on your assessment,” Nick countered. He gestured upward to the ceiling. “Can this place be saved, or will I make my fortune selling it as firewood?”
Stan stepped back from the wall and frowned as his eyes flitted over the wood. “It isn’t good, but I’ll have to see the rest of the house before I can make an assessment. As much as I regret saying this, I think we should start with the basement.”
Lenore shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “I think I’ll sit this tour out,” she spoke up.
Nick gently took hold of one of her arms. “I’m sure you will find nothing frightening down there unless you think my taste in furniture is terrible,” Nick teased as he guided her to the basement door.
She dug her heels into the floor boards just short of the basement door. “We’ll just assume I’m terrified of your furniture and leave me up here while you two go down,” she insisted.
“What if your kind and brave brother was to go down ahead of you?” he suggested. He looked past Lenore and at Stan who stood by the foot of the stairs. “Will you brave my furniture and show your sister there’s nothing to fear from my house?”
Stan shrugged. “I don’t really have a choice. I’m sure I have to tear out everything down there.” He strode past the two, opened the door, and glanced down the long flight of small, narrow steps. They went for fifteen steps down before a small landing, and then the stairs turned ninety degrees and went down another fifteen steps to complete its journey to the basement floor.
Lenore smirked. “The furniture scaring you?” she teased.
He turned back and glared at her. “Give me a moment. I need to see if these stairs are safe.”
“They are. I’ve gone down them myself dozens of times,” Nick told him.
Stan took a deep breath and walked down the stairs. Nick followed with Lenore behind him. She paused at the top of the stairs, and he stopped and turned to face her. “If there’s any monsters down here it’ll go for the juicier men,” he pointed out.
“Or the weak woman,” she argued.
He held his hand out to her and smiled. “Trust me. I’ll keep you safe.”
Lenore smiled and took his hand. He led her down the narrow steps and into the basement. She winced as each stair squeaked under her weight. The last time she’d been in the sub floor it had a dirt floor and was empty, but some enterprising owner had poured cement to have a dry ground. The space was also packed with white-sheet covered furniture and boxes. There were two long, narrow windows on the wall opposite the right side of the stairs. They stood six feet off the ground and showed how the siblings in their youth hadn’t been able to escape so easily. The only source of light was a single bulb in the center of the room. It cast eerie shadows on the walls as the three of them grouped at the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the room.
Stan pulled out his flashlight and walked along the walls. “Looks like the foundation’s solid, but it’s really old. I’m not sure if you want to trust it.”
“Do I have a choice?” Nick wondered.
“Not if you want to keep the house as-is,” Stan told him.
“Well, at least the floor is solid,” Nick replied as he tapped a toe on the cement.
“Maybe, but they didn’t put in a drain for the water if the basement floods,” he pointed out.
“So even that has to be ripped up?” Nick asked him.
Stan shrugged. “I can’t tell without ripping it up, but we’ll see what I find where the bottom of the walls meets the cement.”
Lenore took a few steps forward and lifted one of the sheets. There were boxes with the words ‘Glass Beakers’ and ‘Vials’ written on their sides, and stamped with the word ‘Fragile.’ Nick came up behind her and looked at what caught her curiosity.
“Ah-ha, I see you’ve found my great secret,” he commented.
“Great secret?” she returned.
“Yes, my occupation. I’m a scientist by trade and half of these boxes are filled with my testing equipment. I plan on making the basement my laboratory,” Nick told her.
Stan grinned. “Got any mice? Lenore loves mice.”
She whipped her head to him and glared at her brother. “You know I don’t!” she scolded him. She felt a chill settle in her bones and shuddered.
“Cold?” Nick asked her.
“I guess I didn’t dress very well for the occasion,” she replied.
“Then let’s go back upstairs. That is, provided your brother is done with his inspection,” Nick wondered.
Stan shut off his flashlight and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I’m done.”
The three of them walked back upstairs and stopped in the hall. Nick gingerly leaned his back against the wall opposite the stairs and looked to Stan. “So what’s your professional opinion of this fine example of rust and rot?” he wondered.
Stan shrugged. “This house will probably throw me for more curve balls than a lineup of professional pitchers.”
“So the final verdict of my home is a strikeout?” Nick joked.
Stan pursed his lips. “Well, it can be salvaged, but it’s going to be pretty expensive. It’d be cheaper to rip everything down to the frame.”
Nick smiled. “I have cash to spend, and not much to spend it on, so when can you get to work?”
“Tomorrow, if you want. I’ll have to tear half the boards out because of termite damage and buy some new ones.”
“Whatever you need just give me a rough estimate of the costs and I’ll pay the bills,” Nick assured him.
“Sounds like a deal, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Stan replied. The two men shook hands and Nick turned to Lenore.
“I hope I’ll be seeing you around,” he hoped.
She smiled and shrugged. “You can find me behind a cash register most nights,” she told him.
He raised his eyebrows.
“So you work the night shift?”
Lenore smiled. “Well, almost. I’m the closing manager of the store,” she told him.
“Then I’ll have to make sure not to do so much of my shopping all at once,” Nick commented. He took her hand in his and planted a soft kiss on her palm. “Until we meet over the checkout counter.”
Lenore blushed. “S-sure thing,” she stammered.
Stan smirked and led her out the house and down the lane. He didn’t say a word, but she knew from his sparkling eyes that he had a couple of zingers in that evil mind of his. They slid into his truck and had driven down the road a block when she crossed her arms and glared at him. “All right, spit it out,” she ordered him.
He feigned surprise. “Spit what out?” he asked her.
“Whatever you want to say just say it,” she growled.
Stan shrugged, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “I was just wondering if you guys had a wedding date picked out,” he teased her.
She rolled her eyes. “We don’t even have a date date set,” she countered.
“You’re not going to let this one get away, are you?” he wondered.
She slumped down in the seat. “What would a rich, handsome guy like that see in a girl like me?” she pointed out.
Now Stan rolled his eyes. “Come on, Len. This is your first chance in how many years for a boyfriend? Five?”
She shrugged. “Six, but how’s counting?”
He snorted. “You are, and that’s why I think you shouldn’t brush this guy off. He’s a little weird, but that means you’ll get along just fine.”
“I am not a little weird,” she protested.
“You’re right, you’re really weird,” he returned.
She picked up an empty pop bottle and chucked it at him. Stan ducked and the can flew out the window and clattered to the street. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “First arguing with your big brother, and now littering? What’s next? Drug smuggling?”
“Not so long as chocolate’s legal,” she replied.
“Well, teasing aside, I think he has something for you and you shouldn’t brush him off. Besides, he seemed like a nice guy,” Stan persisted.
Lenore smiled. “So he has the Brother Seal of Approval?”
“And earned five gold stars, so he’s allowed one date just to see if he’s the right guy,” Stan agreed.
She sighed, set her elbow on the door, and rested her chin in her hand. “We’ll see if we even get that far.”
