That Old House (650 words)

 

My prompt this week is a picture at https://moreoddsthanends.home.blog/2020/05/13/week-20-of-odd-prompts/

And a little bit of thought left me with this...

That Old House (650 words)

By Mike Barker

Hank got out of the taxi slowly. He looked at the weeds, the tumbled bushes, and the house. He couldn't believe it.

"Are you sure this is the right address?"

The taxi driver's voice woke him up. He looked at the houses around him, the street. Yes, this was the right place.

"Yes, this is it. Would you mind waiting a bit? $20 tip."

The taxi driver chuckled.

"For 20 bucks? Sure, I'll sit here. But it doesn't look to me like there's anybody home."

Hank nodded. He bit his lip, and slowly looked it over. His dad... his dad would have a fit, seeing the front yard like this. He'd mowed that lawn every week, no matter what, and kept the bushes trimmed. But the house...

Tarpaper on the walls? That used to be brick. And those windows boarded up with plywood? 

That one, right there, that was the kitchen window, where his mother liked to watch the world, as she would tell them. She would slide that big glass window open, and let the wind and the sun in. Her kitchen counter was right there, with the oven over on the wall, and the big refrigerator. The kitchen table was where they usually ate.

Then that must be the living room. Yep, there was the chimney for the fireplace. Not that they had a fire very often, but sometimes, the family would get together in there, on the old sofa, and Dad would get some of the firewood out and they would enjoy an evening together. Sometimes in the winter, when it was cold and snowy outside, those were magical evenings. 

But where was the walk? 

Darn it, it should be right there, in front of that part of the house? Ran up to the doorway. The first one, that came with the house when they moved in, it cracked. So his father got the sledgehammer out, and they broke it into pieces, and hauled it all off. Then his father and he had dug it out, and laid a wooden frame. The concrete mixer came, and poured concrete into their old wheelbarrow, and they filled it in. Leveled it, and let it cure. Darn it, his sweat went into that walkway. Oh. It must be buried under those bushes and the weeds growing over there.

Looking at the house, he remembered his high school years. He had enjoyed life with his family here, those long years ago. And to see the old place looking run down like this. He started to reach for the weeds, to yank them up and make it a little tidier. Then he shook his head, and stood there, tears running down his cheeks.

After a while, he got out a handkerchief and mopped his face. Then he looked at the poor old wreck once more, and turned around, and climbed into the taxi.

The driver sat up, and turned off his radio.

"All done?"

Hank took a deep breath, and blew it out. Then he looked one last time at his childhood home. 

No, it wasn't his childhood home, that warm home, with his mother and father and sisters, was long gone, living only in his memories. This. This was just the bare bones, without even any ghosts. All it needed was a tombstone.

He got his wallet out, and pulled out a 20 dollar bill. He reached over the seat back and handed it to the driver.

"Yep. All done. I guess... I'll go back to the hotel now."

The driver looked at the house.

"I'll bet that was a nice house, back when it was built. Shame they let it get run down like that."

Hank nodded.

"It was a nice house. But you're right, it's run down now."

The taxi engine coughed, and they drove off into the night.

Behind them, the house slowly settled into the past.

The End