Inheriting a haunted, death trap of a house isn’t everything its made out to be. Certainly, some folks would obviously leap at the chance. Still, it wasn’t exactly the honeymoon that Sophie had imagined. One might say that it sort of caught her slightly unawares. Honestly though, how many people do you know get hit with the news that their recluse uncle, Kermit the Hermit, has leaped to the great lily pad in the sky and left his entire estate to them on the run up to their wedding day? It’s obvious that the only proper thing to do then would be to check it out, isn’t it? You bet your orange socks, it is!
Maybe it was the arachnophobia and the insane number of dusty cobwebs hanging from every conceivable surface that spooked her. Or perhaps, it was when the rotten front door fell off the hinges in a pile of splinters, leaving me holding a doorknob and a hunk of wood. You might even say that when I fell through the floor in the foyer, that it might have caused her a wee bit of alarm; but, the tails on the rental tux saved me and the rips in the jacket were more or less straight. Besides, I had sacks and sacks of cash from my dearly departed uncle – though it’s true I had never laid eyes on the fellow – so I tried to convince her not to worry. We could rebuild it, I told her. Make it better than before.
I’d say things were going pretty smoothly really. The floor in the back of the house wasn’t nearly so rotted and there was glass in some of the windows too. For little life-adventures like this, preparation is a key component – just ask any boy scout, he’ll tell you – and I was prepared. I had the candelabra, the cans of beans and franks, a couple of bottles of Bud, and a blow-up mattress with silk sheets. Camping in style, I dare say.
I blame the sounds of the rattling chains, the train whistle, and the sounds of an army of creepy critters scratching at the walls like a mosquito plague had unceremoniously descended upon them.
At any rate, Sophie jumped in our car and, just like that, drove away. Without so much as saying, ‘Boo.’ Just left me there, holding the can opener. Well, at least the beans were tasty.