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This is a story of trust and betrayal and determination. |
Chapter Four (Read the previous sections first!) The two walked for quite a while. The boy walked much quicker than Pete, but that did not rush the old man. He was the one who knew where Muriel lived. Without him, the boy would not know how to get there. He believed that rushing did a person no good. He always remembered back to one of his favorite idioms, “Haste makes waste.” Pete took his time. They boy did not talk much. He whistled small tunes and walked casually, kicking at the dirt every now and then. Pete moved his cane with each step he took and kept his eyes straight ahead. It was a beautiful day. There were many birds flying around in flocks and that made Pete wonder. How did the birds know which direction to fly in at the same time? They flew in a “V” formation as well. How come? Pete had many questions and he felt as though he did not have enough years left to find the answers to them. Pete sighed hopelessly. The boy was right about Pete. Pete had to start living. Even though he was still breathing and walking, that was not technically living. Living is discovery, experience, company, laughing, enjoying, and surprise. If it is all of that, then Pete did not have much of a life. He had been hiding away from the outside world so long, that he had forgotten what it was like to take a walk in the daytime and what it was like to have company to talk to. Now, Pete was actually starting to live. That made him excited. “Thank you for doin’ this with me, boy. I needed some company,” Pete told the boy. “I didn’t do much sir. I’m just helpin’ you out some. I felt bad that all you do is stay in that house of yours. It don’t seem like you’d ever have much fun. Seein’ and old friend of yours might do you some good.” “Yes, yes.” “You know sir, you’re not so bad yourself,” the boy said and Pete took that as a bold compliment. “I used to not be, you know?” Pete chuckled. “I was a troublemaker. Heh! Was I ever!” “Yeah, you told me that once. But you also said that you were a scared little kid. Then somethin’ happened and you started causin’ all sorts of trouble. What made you a troublemaker, as you like to call ‘em?” Pete tensed. “I’d rather not talk about it.” Then, he pointed ahead. “Muriel’s house is down yonder. We’re getting’ closer boy. We’re almost there.” He changed the topic quickly. In a matter of ten minutes Pete and the boy were at the door of Muriel’s house. It was a nice house with brown shutters and an oak door. Besides a few of the roof’s shingles, the house was in great shape. It had not changed since the last time he had been to visit her. “Are you ready sir? You got to go first,” the boy waved Pete on. Pete nodded his head and started up the walkway. The shrubs were nicely cut and he could smell the flowers planted along the front porch. When Pete faced the door he looked back at the boy. The boy gave him a sign, signaling him to knock at the door. Pete took the signal and pounded the oak surface with his knuckles. No one answered. He knocked again, starting to lose hope. But then, he heard someone unlock the door and his heart jumped. He felt weary and his first intention was to hop off the porch and run all the way back home. What was he doing here? The door was starting to open. There was no turning back now. When the door was finally open, Pete stared into the eyes of an elderly lady. She had white hair, unlike Muriel’s golden brown hair. She had many wrinkles, unlike Muriel’s smooth skin. She was hunched over, unlike Muriel’s wonderful posture. Pete smiled. Even though this lady was much older than the Muriel he had known, he knew that this was still his friend. She had aged too, like he had. Muriel gasped. “Pete Wiggins? Is that you?” “Yes, Muriel. It is Pete,” Pete answered. Muriel clapped her hands happily and gave her friend a warm hug. “Come inside. We have so much to catch up on.” “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I brought a boy along with me and would it be alright if he came inside too?” Muriel looked down her walkway saw the boy that Pete had brought along. He was scrawny and a dirty little thing. Muriel, though, was fine with the boy coming in. “What’s your name child?” Muriel asked when she finally got her guest settled in the living room. “I can’t tell you my name ma’am. Sorry ‘bout that,” the boy tried not to sound rude to the elderly woman. “Well, why ever not?” Muriel wondered, pouring Pete and the boy cups of tea. She set the cups on the table in the middle of the room. She poured an extra cup for herself. “It’s ‘cause I don’t tell people who I don’t trust. That’s all. I don’t know you well enough ma’am so I don’t think it’d be such a good thing,” the boy explained and Pete shook his head. “Don’t take any offense by the boy’s behavior. He still hasn’t told me his name and I’ve known him for a lot longer than you have,” Pete tried to tell Muriel. “Oh all right, I suppose,” Muriel furrowed her eyebrows and took a sip of tea. Pete took a look around the house. Nothing had changed on the inside either. There was still her grandmother’s old cabinet with China plates that she had bought many years back. The chairs were as stiff as they had ever been and the rest of the furniture had not been moved at all. The house still had the same smell of baby powder and sugar cookies. The smell of the baby powder was somewhat odd since there had never been any babies living in the house, but Pete had never bothered to ask where it had come from. The sugar cookie smell was obvious though. Muriel loved sugar cookies. Pete remembered when she had brought a fresh batch of them over for breakfast sometimes. Muriel never cared when she had the cookies. It did not matter if they were at 10:00 in the morning or at 9:00 at night. She loved them and Pete did too. “So, how have you been Pete?” Muriel asked and put her hand upon her cheek. That was how the conversation mostly went. One of them would ask the question and the other would answer. They talked and laughed, enjoying the company. Meanwhile, the boy sat quietly on the couch and explored the living room with his eyes. “It’s been so long since we’ve had breakfast with each other,” Pete said. “How come we stopped?” “I’m not sure. I think we just lost contact. You know it’s difficult to walk back and forth neighborhood to neighborhood?” “Yes, I know,” Pete replied and decided to start a different conversation. “The kids have been callin’ me “The Dark Man”. Ain’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?” “Well, I’ll be darned! Why have you been called such a silly name? It sounds devilish to me and you, Pete, are not devilish at all. You don’t have an ounce of Devil in your blood!” Muriel exclaimed. This caught the boy’s attention, “Oh ma’am! You should hear the stories of The Dark Man. They’re just crazy! They remind me nothin’ of the sir here. Nothin’ at all. But the sir just sits inside his spook house all day and then people start talkin’. I was the one that convinced him to come you ma’am. He would still be inside that house of his if I hadn’t come along.” Pete shot the boy a look and the boy smiled innocently. Pete opened his mouth to speak, “Well, this boy did convince me to come to you Muriel. I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t come out of by hous ‘cause I don’t like anyone tauntin’ me and accusin’ me of any trouble.” “Oh Pete, I had no idea.” Muriel looked down at her lap and then lifted her head back up to meet Pete’s eyes. “You’re a good man Pete. You ain’t The Dark Man.” Pete smiled at his friend. Muriel then looked at the boy confused. “What about child? How did you know Pete?” The boy’s eyes widened and he gave a worried glance to Pete. Pete laughed. He explained, “I was just takin’ a walk in the neighborhood at night and we bumped into each other. We started chattin’ and I told him ‘bout my gruesome lookin’ house. He offered to clean it up for me and that’s when we talked some more. And here we are now. Who knows why he won’t tell me his name?” The boy’s eyes went back to their normal size and he relaxed. Muriel nodded her head. Pete talked with his old friend for a bit longer. Then, it was time to go. Muriel walked Pete and the boy over to front door and said goodbye. “We should have breakfast sometime Muriel,” Pete offered. “That would be nice.” “Then we will have to do that. Goodbye ‘til next time.” Pete waved and exited Muriel’s house, the boy by his side. When they neared Pete’s home, he turned toward the boy. “Thank you boy.” “You’re welcome sir,” the boy replied. “And sir? Just ‘cause we walked together doesn’t mean we’re friends or anythin’.” Pete was not surprised. “Oh I know. I still think of you as some kid who ruined my fence.” He said this jokingly and the boy got the hint. “And I still think of you as The Dark Man who kills people.” Pete and the boy laughed. After a minute or so, when they both had calmed down, the boy got serious. “You know I don’t think that sir, right?” “Course’ boy. And you don’t think that I believe that you’re just some kid who ruined my fence, right?” “Course’ sir.” “Good. Well then, run along. You’re Ma will be expectin’ you home soon.” Pete turned around and headed inside. When he looked back, the boy was already walking down the road, and the old man smiled to himself. |