The Realtor

by David Kraybill

Len automatically reached for the power knob on the car radio as he turned onto Maple Street. The power lines along Maple Street created enough static to drown out every station on the dial. He whipped his hand back to spin the wheel to the left, throwing himself halfway into the passenger seat. His potential pedestrian target did a left half spin in the air, leaping back to the curb in time to avoid the cars bumper, but not the tidal wave created by the wheel's dive into the rain puddle. The car came to a stop by the curb and Len stepped out of the seat to apologize to the pedestrian. "Are you all right?" he said as he turned. But there was no one there to answer.

He turned to the boy standing on the corner. "Where'd he go?" asked Len.

The boy shrugged and pointed to the hedge that lined the walk all the way down the block.

"Through the bushes?" I confirmed.

The boy nodded yes.

Len peered through the hedge where the boy had pointed, but saw nothing but the picket fence behind it. He looked both ways along the street. When he was satisfied no one would notice he jumped up to look over the hedge. Three repeat jumps led him no closer to learning where the man had disappeared.

He reminded himself that he had a client arriving at his office soon and looking over his shoulder one last time, he headed back to his car.

Len drove the rest of the way to work without turning the radio off. The static of Maple Street lost amid other thoughts.

"Good morning, Mr. Osborne," said the receptionist as Len walked into his office.

"Mornin' Rachel. Is my ten o'clock appointment here yet?"

"No, sir, not yet. He called and said he'd be a few minutes late," she answered.

"Thank you, Rachel."

Len thumbed the photos on his desk, stopping to eye several that he thought his client might like. He pulled them out of the stack and placed them into a file.

The door flew open and a man in a rain coat breezed in.

"Sorry I'm late maam. Is Mr. Osborne in?" he asked.

Rachel nodded toward Len.

"Over here, sir," directed Len.

"I'm interested in something Victorian really. Maybe a fixer upper," said the
client.

"Take a look at these," said Len, handing him the folder of photos.

"Oh! What about this one? If any of these needs a handyman, this one does," said the man, pulling out a photo of a large dilapidated Victorian manse. "Can we look at it today?"

"That one ... are you sure? Most people look at the lot size and think about bulldozing the house and starting over."

"Oh, no. It's the perfect long term project for a builder and restorer such as myself."

"Sure, then. When would you like? The house is empty."

"I'm free now. Let's go."

The house was seven blocks away, a short drive. Len glanced at the man as he drove. Big hands and calloused, could be a builder he supposed.

They made their way though the overgrowth that encroached on the front walk.

"There used to be a caretaker, but he left long ago when the former resident's son decided to let it go. The grounds have really suffered, but the interior is in good shape for its age," explained Len.

"That's good. Has an exterminator been in anytime in the last year?" asked the builder.

"I believe one has but I'd have to check our records," explained Len.

The big door opened with a loud creek. Len shivered involuntarily. He hated showing this house, but if it ever sold there would be a nice commission.

"Now here's the living room," directed Len.

"You're right. The interior is well kept," affirmed the builder.

The door creaked shut behind them. The creek seemed to continue throughout the house for several moments after the
door was shut. The two men looked at each other, each hoping the other would volunteer a plausible explanation.

The builder broke the silence. "Wind must be picking up."

"Right, and I noticed it's getting colder."

"You felt that, too? I thought it was just me. With the house being shut up the sun heats the outside, but not the inside," explained the builder.

The builder pushed against walls and checked stairs. He paused a moment looking through a crack between the boards of the curving staircase that rose to the second floor.

"Something moved back there. Is there an access? I'll need to check for evidence of rats. If the exterminator has been here in the last year it's likely we can get him back under warranty," said the builder.

Len was reaching his time limit inside the house about now. The shadows seemed to move when he turned around. He told himself it was the light coming through the beveled glass windows, but he wasn't convinced.

"There probably is. Either on the other side of the wall or ... yes around here," he said as he came around the wall. "Right here. There's a latch handle down here on the wall," said Len. He tried the latch, banging at it with his hand.

"Seems to be stuck."

"Here, let me try," said the builder. He tapped on it on each side and then gave it a tug. It pulled open abruptly and the builder fell to the floor and screamed, flying into Len on his way down and throwing Len across the room.

"Are you O.K.?" asked Len, shaking off the blow.

He was answered by a slurping sound then a crunch. Len got up quickly looking in the direction the builder had fallen. There was the builder, but a large reptilian shape was perched atop him.

Len slipped behind a high backed chair. The shape appeared to be pulling flesh from the builders chest cavity. Then it lifted its head and turned towards Len.

"I'm fine. He fell just right," said the beast.

"I really detest this you know," said Len.

"No you don't."

"Yes I do. You'll see, one day I'll sell this place and be done with it."

"I wish you would. It would sure make it easier on me with live in flesh and blood humans," said the beast.
"Oh, you're horrible."

"Watch it or I'll tell Rachel what you said."

"You wouldn't," replied Len.

"Sure I would. Then you know she'd tell your mother all about our little arrangement."

"I didn't mean it," Len apologized hastily, watching the reptile's work with some interest now.

"Almost to the good stuff," the reptile reached a claw into the chest cavity and seized the heart, tossing it to Len. "There you go, enjoy."

Len caught the organ and sunk his teeth into it. Then he laid back in the chair to munch.

"I know you didn't mean it. You wouldn't do that to your sister."