"The Attic" by Dan McKeithan

The Attic

by Dan McKeithan

 

Harold cringed at the way the floors in his house looked—dirty and grimy. He’d washed and buffed the heck out of the linoleum. His ex would’ve had his hide if she’d seen all the manpower he put into this. But no matter how hard he tried, the spots wouldn’t come off. 

He leaned against the bedroom door and wiped his brow. This was tiring work. Lots harder than the mill. He’d retired from there, but finances being like they were, he was always going to be working. If he could at least get his house right, then he could put it on the market. 

A hand grabbed his shoulder. Harold spun around ready to fight if need be. No one should ever lay hands on a person in their own home. 

A tall balding man in scrubs patted his shoulder again.

“How’s the work going today?” the man asked.

Nosey neighbor. Always needing to know how he was doing. “Fine, I guess, but I’ve got to get out and buy some more polish. The wax doesn’t shine like it used to. They don’t make product like they did back in the day.”

“How about I run out for you?” the man asked.

“Why would I need you to do that for me?”

“Just trying to lend a hand,” the man said. 

Harold moved away from him and down the hallway. Whoever designed this house needed to have consulted a better architect. The hall was long with rooms on either side. A large office rested in the center. Harold guessed it was the best way to get some work done. Keep an eye on the kids. Except he and Cheryl never had any children.

At the very end of the hallway was a large wooden door. Stairway to the attic. He’d always been told not to open that door. Well, it was going to be hard to sell the house without cleaning the attic. 

Harold moved toward the door. Sure, it would be hell on his knees going up those rickety steps and reaching the rafters to clean the cobwebs wasn’t going to be fun. But someone had to do it and Cheryl hadn’t been around in days. Even though they’d sworn off a relationship, the least she could do was come by and check up on a friend. 

The doorknob rattled in his hand. It was locked. Now, who locks the attic in their own home? He could probably break it if he yanked it hard enough. 

“Harold, what are you doing?” a sweet young girl walked down the hallway toward him. Must be that home care worker that Cheryl used to yammer about. That nosey neighbor had probably let her in. 

“I’m trying to clean the attic, if you don’t mind. I’ve got work to do today and don’t have the time to work with you. You’ll have to go somewhere else.”

“Instead of cleaning the attic, how about we go for a walk together,” the girl said. “We really don’t need to go up there. It’s nasty. Better to spend your time with me.”

“You’re pretty, but not that pretty,” Harold said.

“Harold, that wasn’t a nice thing to say,” the girl said.

“Call’em like I see’em.”

A ding sounded from down the hall. Must be the stupid doorbell. The chime wasn’t acting right. The girl moved off down the hall. At least she could check the door and see who it was.

Harold tugged the doorknob. Finally, a loud crack sounded in the door frame, and the door swung open.

Bright light gleamed through the entrance way. A large truck sat in the center of the driveway. All Harold had to do was step into the attic and he could just drive away. It didn’t make sense, but on some level it did. He was leaving this godforsaken world and going to another.

Harold looked behind him. The girl and his nosey neighbor were running toward him, shouting something. He didn’t want to see either one of them, so he stepped out into the light. He walked over to the big brown truck which didn’t have a door on the front. 

He stepped inside the opening and walked over to the driver’s side. The keys were still in the ignition. Perfect. He cranked it and slammed on the gas. The truck lurched forward. 

A man in a brown uniform with short shorts raced from the back, screaming at him. Didn’t know him. Didn’t care.

Harold took off and watched the girl and his neighbor in the rearview mirror. There was nothing they could do. He slammed it in reverse and backed over near them. They ran closer to the front, yelling at him to stop. He turned the truck towards them and gassed it. Cleaning the attic was so much fun.