WEBSITE: —
LOCATION: Edinburgh, Scotland
RECORDS: 7
LATEST RECORD: 9 months ago
JOINED: May 10, 2010
LOCATION: Edinburgh, Scotland
RECORDS: 7
LATEST RECORD: 9 months ago
JOINED: May 10, 2010
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The Garage By James M Macleod Inspired by “What’s he building in there?”- Tom Waits “What’s he building in there?” “What dear?” “The man who lives across the road, what’s he building?” “Is he building something?” “I’m not sure”; Fred walked away from the window and sat by his wife Emma who was knitting a jumper. Fred Stuart was approaching his fifties but it didn’t show as he still had a full head of brown hair, which was reluctant to grey and very faint wrinkles only showed slightly. The man who lived directly opposite must have been building something in his garage, as he was sure he saw the man go to his garage with wood and his truck was outside the garage rather than within. As Emma continued her knitting she hummed a Bernard Herrmann tune. It was Emma’s interesting taste and knowledge of music that had first drawn Fred to her in their university years. Emma stopped humming to ask: “What man are you talking about?” “The man who lives across the road; you know the one with the truck?” “Oh yes, he’s an odd fellow”.. “What do you mean ‘odd’?” She put down her knitting and looked at Fred as he sat in his grand leather chair. “It’s just that he stays in most of the day while you and the boys are at the office, that’s all”. Fred was slightly taken aback as this was the first time that he realised that he had never seen the man for the whole time Fred himself had lived there. A mild fear struck Fred, solely because there was an unknown element in a place where he thought he knew everything about. A troubled thought fluttered across his mind but for now it left as he continued to read his book. As he set off to work one day, the man suddenly popped into his head It had been several weeks since he had the conversation with his wife about the man. He thought about the man as he saw a police car drive down the road- which was an odd sight indeed in Fred’s suburban enclosure. Fred walked to the pavement and waved the ever-approaching police car over. When it arrived he asked the man inside: “Hiya Officer, has something happened around here?” The policeman smiled and said “Oh no, don’t be worried, a new police station has just been built on the other side of town but we’re still using the old parking spaces. We’ll be passing through every so often just until a new parking area has been cleared for us over there” “Oh right, I just thought… doesn’t matter.” A smile forced its way onto Fred’s face. . “OK then, I better be off then sir, goodbye” “Bye then” he nodded. Fred didn’t know really why but he had thought the policeman was here for the man who lived across from him; but evidently not. With the man still firmly in Fred’s mind he approached his friend Walter at work. But before he could get to him his boss Grant said “Hey Norman” As Grant continued walking past, Fred pushed “Eh, yes, I’m Fred. Not Norman.” “Sorry Fred, my mistake” he chortled. He walked on and as he passed another of the men in the office. Fred was sure he heard him say Norman again. Fred shook his head and turned to Walter to quiz him on the man who lived across from him to see if he knew anything about him. “Nope Fred, can’t say I do. He doesn’t work here does he? No. All I know is that he’s alone. I ain’t ever seen anyone but him round there. Why?” Walter sipped at a coffee after he spoke. “No real reason Walt, just that I noticed the other day that he was building something and got thinkin’ that I never knew the guy.” Fred laughed, but with a hint of urgency which Walter sensed. “Just forget about it Fred, it’s his business I guess, it’s probably a new chest of drawers or something” ”Yeah, you’re probably right Walt” “Yeah, I probably am” he laughed “Try not let it get to you or you’ll end up in Barton House” “Ha! You’re crazier than me and you know it” he joshed. Fred woke up to the sound of a car engine spluttering to life confused at who would be driving at…four o’clock in the morning. He went to go back to sleep but a rush of energy hit him as he thought it could be the man across the street. He jumped up, but not wildly enough to wake Emma, and rushed to the window just in time to see the man’s truck pulling out of his drive. Fred walked back to the bed and sighed heavily as he sat down and pulled the covers back over him and lay down. Fred spent the rest of the night pondering where he could be going at such a time on a weekday. He did not sleep well that night, but decided that he would not go to the work the next day and instead wait until the man came home. He hoped that a full on observation would satisfy his ever-growing hunger for information on the man. He had become an enigma and a puzzle that Fred wanted to and intended to solve. Fred woke early with a jolt, sweating and breathing heavily, his mind was racing over what the Man might be doing and when he could be back, Emma was not up yet but Fred went downstairs passing a clock which showed the time to be six o’clock. Fred descended to the kitchen where he made a coffee. He moved with some excitement as he felt like a detective on a stake out. He sat in his chair opposite the window and saw to his relief that the Man was not yet back. Time passed like air, until eight o’clock arrived and his wife appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh hello dear, why aren’t you getting ready for work yet?” “Oh I’m unwell today, I slept very badly and think I should try work that off today,” Fred lied. “I see, well I said I’d look after Barbara’s kids today, do you want me to cancel or…” He cut her off “No! no, I’ll probably be fine. Just one of those things I guess” “Yeh, you’re right. Well I’ll be back at six and Barb’s number is by the phone if you need me.” Emma left feeling uneasy about the way Fred was behaving but dismissed it as his ailment. When Emma eventually got ready and left he rushed to his chair to see if the Man had arrived yet-where was he? Fred stared intently at the Man’s house his mind working quickly yet eclectically as he watched. The Man did indeed receive a lot of mail, his mailbox was very full, and he seemed to be a subscriber to some magazines. The temptation to go see what they were fired within Fred but social norms and etiquette told him otherwise. So he waited. Then the Man appeared at the top of the street. As he descended the slight hill he arrived at his house the back of his truck piled high with goodness knows what, concealed by a tarp. Fred stared at the truck like a hungry lion waiting to eat. He could not hide his interest in what was beneath the tarp and stood up from his seat and walked slowly towards the window; his zombie-like appearance was almost inhuman and disjointed. He observed the Man as he carefully took boxes from the truck to the garage, but the one object beneath the tarp that was not box shaped was left untouched. As Fred strained to see round the corner to the door of the garage he heard the Man whistling. The tune he whistled was unlike anything Fred had ever heard. It was without order but at the same time unlike jazz. The tune seemed to repeat itself, how it did so baffled Fred because he could not pinpoint when the tune repeated itself. He lingered on the somewhat paradoxical nature of the tune so much that he did not even notice his wife come in. After dinner, which Fred did not even remember spending with Emma he went to the window to see what the Man was doing now. The object which had been beneath the tarp was now gone “Damn!” thought Fred . He looked at the house, number 7 it was, and saw no lights within. The standard looking house had two floors much like his own (most likely has the exact same floor plan) and had five windows adorning its front. On the left hand side of the house was the garage, from which came faint sounds and a dim light came from the frosted windows and beneath the door which was on the left hand side of the garage, facing the house on its left. It bothered Fred that he could not see the door, perhaps from upstairs he could see it better. Fred waited until four o’clock to see if the Man went out again; he wasn’t tired anyway. And he saw that the man did go. The Man walked from his garage to the truck rather than the house; had he been ‘working’ there all day? Fred looked down through the canyon between the open curtains upon the man moving to his truck. Fred swore he could hear the man whistling the Tune as he collected yesterday’s mail and took off in the truck. Fred saw a police car pass the truck, which he was initially engrossed by; but he soon remembered the conversation he had had with the police officer. He noticed that the Man had several black bags of something outside his house; the bin men were coming in the morning but the Man had more bags of trash than anyone else. Fred kept watch while his wife quietly awoke to see him at the window, she made a coughing sound to try see if he’d react. He stayed silent and vigilant and her call was unheard. While he looked on to see if the Man would break his apparent routine, Emma sobbed. Her sounds were only muffled by the pillow and by Fred’s trance-like state. By morning Fred knew every facet of the Man’s house and garden. His lawn was dying. “He’s hiding something from us, he’s doing something in there” Fred mumbled, the words escaping from his mind. Emma woke up. She didn’t even realise that she had fallen asleep, and looked over at her husband. After a pause she said tentatively; “Good morning dear” “Oh, I didn’t realise you were up” he smiled, in a way which Emma had missed in the passed day. When he talked to her at this moment her fears deteriorated once more. “Did you not sleep well again?” “No actually, I don’t know what’s up with me. I reckon that one more day will fix me” “Ok, I’m looking after Barbs kids again because she’s working at that real estate place in town” “That’s lovely, have you ever thought of doing that…? The conversation continued much like Fred and Emma always talked, except something was different, Fred was getting better at this act. He knew she would have to go out soon and knew that the Man would arrive just as he did yesterday. Just before Emma left she asked “What are you going to do today then dear?” “I might re-read Moby Dick, I’ve been meaning to for a while, and sleep of course” He laughed “Okay then, love you” “Love you too..” He shut the door. This would be the last day, Fred told himself, he just needed to know what the Man was doing. He knew it was probably something mundane and harmless, but something told him otherwise. The Man arrived, unloaded his truck, went into the Garage. When Emma returned home Fred had fallen asleep in his chair, to which sight she smiled. When she shut the door he woke and ran to the window and gave out a quiet “damn”. He then acknowledged Emma and told her “I still don’t feel great” with a sinister tone, to which she nodded. She went to the kitchen and started on dinner. When she turned on the oven the click made Fred wince. He sat up and continued to observe the Man, at which point he heard his wife sit down with a paper. She started flicking through the large pages with such noise that made Fred grimace as it was off putting. The scratch of Emma’s pencil on the papers crossword puzzle seemed to go in time with the sprinkler in the garden. The compilation of these sounds continued to penetrate Fred’s thoughts and made him think of the Mans tune. This realisation made Fred stand and yell “SHUT UP EMMA! SHUT UP!” she jumped and looked at Fred with fear as the man she looked at was not the one she loved. He then stalked outside and kicked the automatic sprinkler until it was merely plastic and earth mashed together. His neighbour stood and stared at him, “WHAT!?” Fred screamed, his robe and dishevelled look drew almost as much attention as his outburst. Fred was sure that police were passing more often, were they observing the Man or him? Fred was now sleeping downstairs, just in case. The sprinkler had never been fixed and had begun to sink into the grass, the area surrounding it was completely devoid of grass and the rest of the lawn was browning. Fred continued his observation for the following week, maybe weeks, in a similar fashion, if someone had looked at him they would not have known if he had been there for a day or the past year. He felt that he was doing a service though, the Man was hiding something in the Garage, something wrong. The Man arrived on time, Fred didn’t even notice Emma hadn’t come home yet or that he had not eaten. Fred listened to the Man’s Tune intensely and watched him with equal intensity. Sometimes he heard the Tune even when the Man wasn’t present, it had penetrated his psyche. As the Man finished unpacking his truck and left to the Garage, Fred’s heart raced like it did when he first kissed a woman. He watched as the door opened, from left to right, and a blue light emanated from the Garage and disappeared as the door was shut. As Emma opened the door Fred jumped because he forgot where he was, she had came with Walter. “Hey man, how ya doing?” Fred turned reluctantly to talk. “Oh you know, just not sleeping right for some reason” “Yeh Em was saying. I can’t say you look great.” “Thanks Walt, good to know” he laughed, but with a hidden hatred which seethed within. “Would either of you like a tea or coffee?” Emma proposed. “Tea” exclaimed Walter as he sat opposite Fred “Thanks” “I’ll have a coffee please” with a hidden disgust as he stared into Walters eyes. “If you’re having difficulty sleeping dear should you really have coffee?” Emma joked. “I’ll have a coffee” Fred demanded with subtle ferocity. Walter looked at Fred quizzically as he had never known him to be demanding or even slightly mean. Walter was slightly larger than Fred and when they sat opposite each other in the chairs they looked rather ridiculous due to their very apparent differences in regards to weight and amount of hair. “So what’s going on with you and the guy across the road?” Walter asked Fred twitched as he was asked this and retorted, “What do you mean? Walt.” “Well, Em was saying that you’ve been awake at night just looking at the guy’s house and have been looking at it whenever she’s been home; has he done something to you?” When Walter said Emma’s name Fred turned and glared at her even though her back was turned as she made the drinks. All he wanted was for her to turn round and own up for what she’d done. “He’s hiding something, something bad” “How do you know Fred?” “He sneaks about, he keeps hidden. He’s got a secret.” Never looking into Walters eyes as he spoke. “So what Fred? Is he not allowed privacy?” as Walter asked this a police car passed the house. “He is of course, but no one.“ Emma put their drinks down Walter said “Thanks” Fred did not, but rather continued: “…hides that much and acts so ‘oddly’ for nothing” “Then why are you acting like this Fred?” Walter leaned forward as he spoke “Just ask the guy if you’re so interested” “I can’t ask Him, I think he might be doing something…” “Something what Fred?!” “Evil!” “What do you mean?” “Well, yes I have been ‘watching’ him, but he does things oddly. Every morning at four he leaves the house for hours then arrives home in his truck with several covered objects in the back of his truck. He takes them all to his Garage and then after a while comes out with big rubbish bags” Fred spoke with a hysterical speed as if he was running out of time. “And?” “I think he might be killing people, or something.” Walter laughed “Oh come on Fred, having an irregular schedule is hardly the actions of a murderer.” As Fred voiced his concerns Emma winced and lowered her head in the kitchen as Walter was not the first to hear these apparent delusions. “Walt! It adds up! He comes in with odd shaped, large, packages. Does something to them and they come back out in bin bags” “Fred, this is crazy. Do you want me to go over and prove you wrong?” To this statement Fred jumped “NO!” “Ok Fred, but I want this to end. You’re scaring Emma, she’s going to stay with me and Barb tonight until you sort this out” This did not faze Fred and he just sat, after several seconds he looked to the Man’s house. It was then that Emma took a pre-packed bag and left with Walter. They may have said goodbye, Fred didn’t know. Time passed. The front of the house was almost devoid of grass, where there was once a cobblestone path now was full of weeds and was very cracked. Fred decided that tonight was the night, what was tonight? He didn’t know. He knew the Man’s schedule and intended to act when the Man would be gone. Tonight it would end. The only thing, which was ‘off’, was that the Mans truck did not have the tarp in the back, but this did not phase Fred. He left the house at five o’clock in the morning as the earliest the Man arrived home was at seven, so he had time. As Fred began to leave his house the Tune entered his head; it penetrated his thoughts and made him move erratically. Fred walked onto the Man’s lawn and the Tune got louder with every step he took. The Sword of Damocles had hung over him the moment he left the house but he needed to know. He eventually made it to the door of the Garage; it was white and oddly had the door handle in its centre. The wood spiralled round and made the door look like an eye, it stared at Fred’s very soul and as he put his hand forward to open it he felt warmth. There was some sort of heat coming from the Garage that seemed to fit in with the Tune in an inexplicable way. Fred was not surprised when he discovered the door was locked, but he was prepared for this, in as much as he could be in his current state. He ran to the frosted windows and started beating them, first rhythmically then madly, until the glass started cracking and his hand started bleeding. The Tune rang in Fred’s ears louder than his thoughts and he spat as he furiously pummelled the windows. As his ferocity reached its peak a piece of glass finally gave way. At this time he was pulled violently back by a policeman, who proceeded to arrest him as Fred swung wildly. While the policeman and Fred fought the neighbouring houses slowly turned their upstairs lights on as the fight grew louder. A male neighbour ran out of one of the nearby houses to the policeman’s aid and got Fred in the police car. As he was taken to the station the car passed the Man’s truck, and Fred saw the Man as close as he ever would. He stared into the Man’s eyes, an amount which would unnerve most people but the Man was unflinching. He smiled and Fred was sure that he heard him say “Goodbye Fred”. To which Fred began screaming madly. Fred was arrested and convicted for attempted breaking and entering. He was profiled as: Fred Stuart. Thinning grey brown hair. Age: 51 but looks much older. Marital status: Divorced. After what happened with Fred Stuart no one but Emma knew his fate, there were rumours that he had been taken to Barton House. Whether or not these rumours were true no one but Emma ever knew. But as the surreal incident with Fred and the man passed rumours led to nothing and people just forgot. Walter and Emma never forgot Fred and Walter never forgot the fear in Fred’s eyes as he talked about the Man. He contemplated about whether or not the Man was “evil” or If Fred was just crazy Grant said “Stop Day Dreaming Norman” “Sorry sir, but I’m Walter” |
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