prognosticat
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2007
- Posts
- 219
The beat up minivan was up to its axles in mud, but Will wasn't too concerned about that. He knew where the key to his grandpa's tractor was kept, though that was a half-mile trudge through a muddy field away. It could wait till tomorrow, anyway. Now he was pulling a couple hundred feet of Romex from the old chicken coop where he'd set up the gas generator. Once he got this hooked up they'd have power in the old farmhouse and could really get to work preparing for the Halloween party next weekend. The daylight was getting away from them, so he needed to get this done. He didn't want to be hooking this up by flashlight.
As he approached the back porch he could hear the laughing and joking of his friends and acquaintances inside. He hoped they weren't getting too drunk yet. He really wanted to get a lot of work done before everybody got wasted. It'd be a lot more fun next weekend if they really got a lot of cool stuff set up now, and he'd already done too much work getting supplies and decorations lined up to see this ruined by kids who didn't want to do anything but drink themselves silly. It was always so hard getting other people to feel as excited and motivated by a project as he was. On the other hand, he really hoped that later tonight there'd be time for some fun. There were some really cute girls along he hadn't yet had a chance to properly meet.
The sight of flashlight beams in an attic window brought back old memories, and that same eerie feeling he'd had as a kid when they drove by this place on the way to his grandparents' down the road. He felt really jealous of the guys inside who were getting to explore the old place before he even got a chance. He and his cousins had always wanted to go inside and poke around, but his grandparents and parents would never let them, explaining that though nobody lived there anymore, the property was still owned by someone (though he found out later that “someone” was a bank,) and permission had not been given to trespass. They tried to convince them that the house wasn't safe, and that nobody could hear them if they got hurt. But uneasy glances back and forth between the adults suggested that there was more to the story than they were letting on.
He and his cousins had ventured across the fields on various occasions, and poked around the yard, going in the old milk barn and seeing the concrete slab where they used to butcher. They had dared each other to go up on the front porch of the house, and once his cousin Eddie had thrown a rock through a window, just to see the glass break. They had gone so far as to try the doorknob, but the handle was locked and they didn't try any harder than that. Later they had seen that somebody had boarded up the broken window, and Will felt a little bad about the damage. Obviously somebody was paying occasional visits to the premises.
What really intrigued them about the old house was that inside it was not a vacant piece of real estate, standing empty in preparation for new occupants. Peering in the dirty windows, they could get glimpses, between dusty drapes, of lives interrupted in a moment. The rooms they could see were fully furnished. Magazines and newspapers were strewn across the coffee table. In the kitchen there was an old electric coffee percolator on a table, next to a vase with the dessicated, brown remnants of a bouquet of asters and marigolds like the ones that could still be seen proliferating unchecked next to the overgrown vegetable garden. A soup pot sat on the stove top. They had once climbed up on the porch railing and peeked in the high window into the bathroom to see a calendar hanging on the wall, featuring a seed company logo floating in the sky above neatly tilled rows of pumpkin plants, bursting with over-sized gourds, and the month of October, 1972.
But what flashed in his mind at this moment were memories of seeing lights on in the attic of the old place. He couldn't connect these memories with any particular visit, and the details were nebulous. The old house had figured prominently in the stories he and his cousins used to tell each other, so it was entirely possible that the memories were nothing more than vividly recalled attempts to scare Eddie and Tracy.
In any case, things were different now. His grandpa passed away about a year and a half ago, and his family had been spending more time helping his grandma with the upkeep. Finally this summer she had moved into a nursing home. The old farmstead was eventually to be sold, and there would be an auction in the spring to sell off most of the farm implements. Will had been given the job of keeping the lawn mowed every couple months.
But the years hadn't dulled his fascination with the dilapidated farm down the road. So he took interest when his mom mentioned that the old place had been recently been sold.
“The people who bought it are going to do some diversified farming there, and maybe set up a CSA. They're going to tear down the old house the first week in November and build a new one on the west side of the section, closer to the highway. It's long past time that place was buried and gone. I think if grandma's place had come on the market a little sooner they might have bought it instead.”
Will realized that if he ever wanted to see what was inside the old farmhouse, it would have to be in the next few weeks. After that, it would be gone forever. So he talked to some friends in the dorm about busting in and getting the creepy old place set up for a Halloween party. There were eight who finally came along to work on the preparations. Will was sure the guys from his dorm would be helpful in setting up the decorations, animated surprises, and special effects, but he didn't know some of their friends who came along. He hoped they wouldn't be a distraction, but they'd seemed pretty into it on the drive out here. Besides, one of the girls had supplied the minivan. She didn't seem too concerned about getting it extracted from the mud yet, but Will had assured her that a tractor was available. Will was certainly looking forward to playing the manly role tomorrow, driving a tractor and pulling out this great looking chick's vehicle.
He hooked the wires up to the ancient fuse box (it didn't even use modern circuit breakers) and went back to the chicken coop to start the generator. He trudged back to the house, the hum of the generator's motor behind him and the glow of lights coming through windows that hadn't been illuminated in decades before him. It appeared that most of the lights he'd turned on had actually worked after all these years. But then there would have been no reason for their filaments to have burned out sitting in disuse.
As he walked in the back door, which they had carefully jimmied open after arriving, he hoped they would have a good time getting things set up this weekend and a good party on Halloween. He wanted to finally satisfy his curiosity about this old place and, though he hated to admit it even to himself, he really felt better about doing that in the company of others, with some light, and in a festive atmosphere. As he approached three of the girls, setting up an .mp3 player in the kitchen, he suddenly perceived another urge he would like to satisfy. They gave a little cheer as he came in the door, thankful for the electricity he had provided. A single bare bulb – all of forty watts from the look of it – dangled from the ceiling in the kitchen, illuminating these girls he barely knew, who had come with him from the overbearing security of their college dorms, out to the middle of nowhere, an hour away. A little thrill raced through his tummy. For some inexplicable reason, seeing these girls in this setting made them seem especially sexy to him. Almost no matter what happened, this was bound to be a memorable weekend.
{Open to 7 more players, male and female. Just jump in, this ought to be plenty set-up.}
As he approached the back porch he could hear the laughing and joking of his friends and acquaintances inside. He hoped they weren't getting too drunk yet. He really wanted to get a lot of work done before everybody got wasted. It'd be a lot more fun next weekend if they really got a lot of cool stuff set up now, and he'd already done too much work getting supplies and decorations lined up to see this ruined by kids who didn't want to do anything but drink themselves silly. It was always so hard getting other people to feel as excited and motivated by a project as he was. On the other hand, he really hoped that later tonight there'd be time for some fun. There were some really cute girls along he hadn't yet had a chance to properly meet.
The sight of flashlight beams in an attic window brought back old memories, and that same eerie feeling he'd had as a kid when they drove by this place on the way to his grandparents' down the road. He felt really jealous of the guys inside who were getting to explore the old place before he even got a chance. He and his cousins had always wanted to go inside and poke around, but his grandparents and parents would never let them, explaining that though nobody lived there anymore, the property was still owned by someone (though he found out later that “someone” was a bank,) and permission had not been given to trespass. They tried to convince them that the house wasn't safe, and that nobody could hear them if they got hurt. But uneasy glances back and forth between the adults suggested that there was more to the story than they were letting on.
He and his cousins had ventured across the fields on various occasions, and poked around the yard, going in the old milk barn and seeing the concrete slab where they used to butcher. They had dared each other to go up on the front porch of the house, and once his cousin Eddie had thrown a rock through a window, just to see the glass break. They had gone so far as to try the doorknob, but the handle was locked and they didn't try any harder than that. Later they had seen that somebody had boarded up the broken window, and Will felt a little bad about the damage. Obviously somebody was paying occasional visits to the premises.
What really intrigued them about the old house was that inside it was not a vacant piece of real estate, standing empty in preparation for new occupants. Peering in the dirty windows, they could get glimpses, between dusty drapes, of lives interrupted in a moment. The rooms they could see were fully furnished. Magazines and newspapers were strewn across the coffee table. In the kitchen there was an old electric coffee percolator on a table, next to a vase with the dessicated, brown remnants of a bouquet of asters and marigolds like the ones that could still be seen proliferating unchecked next to the overgrown vegetable garden. A soup pot sat on the stove top. They had once climbed up on the porch railing and peeked in the high window into the bathroom to see a calendar hanging on the wall, featuring a seed company logo floating in the sky above neatly tilled rows of pumpkin plants, bursting with over-sized gourds, and the month of October, 1972.
But what flashed in his mind at this moment were memories of seeing lights on in the attic of the old place. He couldn't connect these memories with any particular visit, and the details were nebulous. The old house had figured prominently in the stories he and his cousins used to tell each other, so it was entirely possible that the memories were nothing more than vividly recalled attempts to scare Eddie and Tracy.
In any case, things were different now. His grandpa passed away about a year and a half ago, and his family had been spending more time helping his grandma with the upkeep. Finally this summer she had moved into a nursing home. The old farmstead was eventually to be sold, and there would be an auction in the spring to sell off most of the farm implements. Will had been given the job of keeping the lawn mowed every couple months.
But the years hadn't dulled his fascination with the dilapidated farm down the road. So he took interest when his mom mentioned that the old place had been recently been sold.
“The people who bought it are going to do some diversified farming there, and maybe set up a CSA. They're going to tear down the old house the first week in November and build a new one on the west side of the section, closer to the highway. It's long past time that place was buried and gone. I think if grandma's place had come on the market a little sooner they might have bought it instead.”
Will realized that if he ever wanted to see what was inside the old farmhouse, it would have to be in the next few weeks. After that, it would be gone forever. So he talked to some friends in the dorm about busting in and getting the creepy old place set up for a Halloween party. There were eight who finally came along to work on the preparations. Will was sure the guys from his dorm would be helpful in setting up the decorations, animated surprises, and special effects, but he didn't know some of their friends who came along. He hoped they wouldn't be a distraction, but they'd seemed pretty into it on the drive out here. Besides, one of the girls had supplied the minivan. She didn't seem too concerned about getting it extracted from the mud yet, but Will had assured her that a tractor was available. Will was certainly looking forward to playing the manly role tomorrow, driving a tractor and pulling out this great looking chick's vehicle.
He hooked the wires up to the ancient fuse box (it didn't even use modern circuit breakers) and went back to the chicken coop to start the generator. He trudged back to the house, the hum of the generator's motor behind him and the glow of lights coming through windows that hadn't been illuminated in decades before him. It appeared that most of the lights he'd turned on had actually worked after all these years. But then there would have been no reason for their filaments to have burned out sitting in disuse.
As he walked in the back door, which they had carefully jimmied open after arriving, he hoped they would have a good time getting things set up this weekend and a good party on Halloween. He wanted to finally satisfy his curiosity about this old place and, though he hated to admit it even to himself, he really felt better about doing that in the company of others, with some light, and in a festive atmosphere. As he approached three of the girls, setting up an .mp3 player in the kitchen, he suddenly perceived another urge he would like to satisfy. They gave a little cheer as he came in the door, thankful for the electricity he had provided. A single bare bulb – all of forty watts from the look of it – dangled from the ceiling in the kitchen, illuminating these girls he barely knew, who had come with him from the overbearing security of their college dorms, out to the middle of nowhere, an hour away. A little thrill raced through his tummy. For some inexplicable reason, seeing these girls in this setting made them seem especially sexy to him. Almost no matter what happened, this was bound to be a memorable weekend.
{Open to 7 more players, male and female. Just jump in, this ought to be plenty set-up.}
