The Poor and The Haunted by Dustin McKissen

Author:Dustin McKissen [McKissen, Dustin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2019-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

2019

The day began with Jimmy’s usual routine: a cold Red Bull, one of Jill’s homemade granola bars, and a seven-mile run around his neighborhood. Once his run was over, he would come home, shower, and—weekend or weekday—put on a pair of pleated khakis and a collared shirt.

By late afternoon that day, Jimmy’s life would be disrupted by a crazed dash to Walmart for an Ouija board. However, the first disruption occurred when Jonathan met him at their front door in basketball shorts and a flat-brimmed Suns hat with the sticker still on the bill. He and Jonathan were essentially the same height, give or take an inch, so Jimmy didn’t have to look up or down to see the fear in his son’s eyes.

“Dad, did you put the mud in your room?”

Jimmy didn’t know what his son was talking about. Jonathan stepped back to let his dad pass through the entryway.

“No? Mud—what do you…”

“There’s mud all over your bedroom. Piles of it”

“Mud? I—Where’s mom?”

“She took Jessica to volleyball practice.”

Volleyball. The latest in their attempt to interest their daughter in sports. He could already tell volleyball was going to be just like gymnastics, which was just like T-ball: a way for him and Jill to waste time and money driving all over North Phoenix as Jessica scowled through practice, waiting for the drive home to tell her parents how team sports were another way for the patriarchy to reinforce its dominance over women.

“What mud are you talking about?”

“Come with me,” Jonathan said, leading Jimmy up the stairs to the second floor and the master bedroom.

“Jessica clogged the downstairs toilet again. I was going to use your bathroom, and I saw this,” Jonathan said as they entered the master bedroom, pointing to several piles of mud. The piles led from just outside the closet door to the bathroom in his and Jill’s room.

“I didn’t do that,” Jimmy said. “Come on, Jonathan. You know I wouldn’t just leave mud on the floor.”

Left unspoken between father and son was that Jill would be angry at whoever left the mess. When Jimmy and Jill met in college, one of her most appealing qualities was her cleanliness.

“Well, if you didn’t leave the mess, who did?” Jonathan asked.

Jimmy walked farther into the room, squatting down to get a closer look at the floor. They weren’t piles. They were more like rough rings with hollow middles.

“Dad, Zach’s waiting for me,” Jonathan said. “We’re going to play basketball.”

Jimmy looked back at the drying mud on his floor, noting how it spontaneously appeared just outside of the closet, went into the bathroom, and then abruptly stopped.

“Dad? Hello?”

“Um, yeah. Go ahead. Tell Zach I said hi,” Jimmy said.

Jonathan began to leave the room when Jimmy looked up and said, “Hey, buddy? You don’t need to worry. No one is in our home. No home invaders, I mean. This isn’t The Strangers.

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