Wednesday means story day. Last week I posted a story titled Empty Room. There were several of my blogging pals and my daughter who wanted a little more of the story since it seems I left the protagonist Frank telling us something leading to more questions than answers. The story ended with Frank not wanting to buy the house he was looking at because the room, which he wanted to always have available, would not be suitable. So here is the Empty Room Part Two. Maybe there will be more light shed on the situation. To review; Frank said last week: “You don’t know the person. It would have to be perfect. I have to make sure everything is perfect before they come back. They left in the first place because I couldn’t keep everything perfect. This room won’t work.”
Empty Room Part Two by John W. Howell ©2014
“What do you mean they? Who are they?”
“Yeah well, I really don’t want to go into it. The house won’t work and that’s it.”
“Come on Frank. I have been looking all over for a house for you and this one is perfect. Give me something to work with here.”
“Okay I’ll try. Let me tell you a story and then maybe you will understand.”
“Let’s go and sit on the back porch. There are some chairs out there.”
“Off the kitchen right?”
“Yeah follow me. Here, let me open the door. Man, look at this yard. This is killer.”
“It’s really nice. I like that swing set over there.”
“You have kids?”
“No. I told you no before.”
“I-I’m sorry I forgot. Sit here and tell me everything.”
“I used to have a wife. She made my life a living nightmare. She was always leaving me alone for days at a time. She would go away and I wouldn’t hear anything from her until she came back.”
“Did she tell you where she was?”
“No. She always seems unhappy at being back home though.”
“So what happened?”
“Well she finally ran off for good.”
“How do you know for good?”
“I just knew.”
“What did you do?”
“I looked for her and tried to find out where she went.”
“Any luck?”
“Well sort of. I ran into someone who said they knew her. This was in Reno. I went there because she had once worked there. I met her when I was travelling. Anyway, I was showing her pictures around and some guy said he thought she was working in one of the casinos.”
“Was she?”
“I never found her. So I ran an ad in the paper and said that I would always have an empty room waiting for you.”
“But you said they before. Is there another person involved?”
“Uh. . . besides her you mean. You mean associated with her?”
“Yes I guess so.”
“No. She didn’t have anyone but me.”
“Why would you say they then?”
“Well I wrote the story down and I guess I was referring to whoever reads it.”
“You mean this is the story and you wrote down what happened?”
“Well, no it never really happened like it was real. I am a fiction writer and it’s a story I wrote. It is a piece of flash fiction. Here take a look it’s all here.”
“You mean I have been looking for a house for you with this so-called empty room and it is just a story?”
“I’m sure if you were a writer you would understand that I can’t live in a house where the empty room is not perfect. My character deserves to have the empty room perfect, as do the readers. The room in this house is not even close to the room in the story. I actually wrote a part in the story where the house was mid-century with two bathrooms and two bedrooms. One of those bedrooms was to be kept empty in case she came back. In fact this house is exactly like I wrote it except for that room. You Gerry are exactly like I wrote in the story as well.”
“Frank?”
“Yes Gerry.”
“I think you need some help.”
“And I think I’m going to write you out of the story and start over. You don’t seem to get the point. Gerry.”
