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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Contest Entry · #1684590
Jack lost all hope of ever owing
word count 1141...slightly over.


Jack sat quietly on the old trunk left in the attic concentrating on all the dreams he‘d had for this house growing up. The big old house had been a favorite of his and the only one it‘s size in the entire town. He fancied his bedroom to be in one of the round rooms and imagined living here with all his friends. It made him smile to think of all the childish thoughts he’d owned over the growing years. He so envied the Henderson’s for being fortunate enough to dwell in his special house.

Max and Charlotte Henderson were a wonderful, but odd, old couple and loved all the neighbor children. Mrs. Henderson baked cookies and gave them away to the kids. Jacks favorite was peanut butter ones that melted in his mouth. They both loved working in their garden and raised beautiful roses. Sometimes on a summer evening when the wind was just right, the fragrance of the yellow Montana rose wafted out past the bushes into the air and the aroma was almost as pleasing as the smell of cookies. He was sure those cookies could be smelled a half mile away. But other than the garden and the cookies, none of the area children knew anything about the Henderson’s and no one had ever been asked into their home, though Jack wanted to. Many times while selling magazines or candy bars, Mrs. Henderson would open the door just enough for him to see the mighty oak banister. He’d go away dreaming of sliding down it and wishing he lived there.

As Jack grew and finished school, he went away to the service and when he returned he learned of both Mr. and Mrs. Henderson’s passing. Jack thought about those peanut butter cookies many times while away and had even thought of going over to the Henderson’s upon his return and asking if he might have another, telling Charlotte how much the thought of the cookies helped him through some difficult times. But that was not to happen and now the big old house stood empty of people.

Jack put in a bid for the home. He was surprised to find there were four other bids, all higher than his. One of the bids was from an out-of-town company wanting to turn the house into a bed & breakfast. Not a bad idea for a house as large as this one, but not Jacks idea. He didn’t know how he would do it short of a miracle, but he needed to out bid the other four. One problem though…money. Where could he get it?

While Mr. Williams, the realtor in town, was showing Jack the house, he was captivated with the character, beauty and charm of the home. He felt as though he’d lived there all his life. He desperately wanted to see more. He knew he couldn’t get Mr. Williams to show it again because of the other bids that might actually go somewhere, where he knew Jacks would not. Before they left, Jack unlatched a window in the back dining room.

A bidding war started between the four people who wanted the home. Jack was good friends with Mr. Williams secretary, Amy, and she kept him abreast of the events of the bidding. Every new bid sent chills up his spine and he seemed to be further and further away from reaching his goal.

On Sunday afternoon late following his tour of the old house, Jack slipped into the home by the assistance of the unlatched window. Careful not to touch to much or disturb anything, he walked quietly alone through the house. And what a fabulous house it is, he thought. The door frames were oak to match the floors. The banister he’d only ever glimpsed before was now right in front of him and it was bigger than he thought. It coiled almost around in a circle leading to the upper floors. He could feel himself as a child sliding down. Oh what fun it would have been. And Christmas in this house would have been legendary, he thought.

Jack walked up the steps. He was surprised to find that not one step squeaked and the house, in his opinion, was as well built as the any new one. He toured the bedrooms, all 6 of them. When he finished looking and dreaming, he was about to descend when he noticed another door in the corner of the master bedroom he hadn’t seen before. He approached and as he reached out to open it, it opened by itself. A little bit unnerved, he decided to enter. This is my only chance to see the whole house, Jack thought. Once the bidding is done, a new owner will have my house.

Inside the door, he encounter a stair way up to the attic. It intrigued him and he recalled the daydreams of his childhood. The attic smelled musty but was in otherwise mint condition. Everything was neat and orderly, boxed up and placed against the slopping ceiling and walls. There were no hanging cobwebs he’d envisioned as a child. No ghosts in long white robs. No spiders. Jack was afraid to admit he was terrified of the creepy crawly things. The only thing Jack found out of place was this old trunk, a steamer, setting right in the middle of the expanse of space. He wanted to look in some of the boxes but thought better of it since they weren’t his. But the old trunk was so unique he had to open it. He got up and slowly lifted the heavy top.

Inside the trunk were more boxes, some tied with string and others with rubber bands. Jack began to lift out each box and set it aside. There were no markings on any of the boxes to tell what they might contain, all except one he found clear down in the bottom of the trunk. It read: To Jack Taylor. He picked it up gently and closed the top of the trunk, leaving all the boxes as he’d put them. He sat down and stared at his name on the box. Finally, he decided staring was never going to tell him what was in the box.

Slowly he untied the old off-white string and lifted the lid to view the contents. His heart almost stopped and his eyes couldn’t get any bigger. There on a late Sunday afternoon Jack found out that Mr. and Mrs. Henderson had actually noticed him, thought about him and apparently cared for him, for in his hands he held a box full of money, all in hundred dollar bills.

Jack wanted to scream with happiness but no, he cried instead. At that moment Jack could smell the yellow Montana rose and peanut butter cookies ever so clear.
© Copyright 2010 Aneishi (aneishi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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