Continuing from last time...
Since coming to Maine and breaking out of his shell, Eric had begun to really enjoy taking road trips with his friends. After his first year in Maine, he went home to California for the summer and used that time to earn a little more money that would allow him to purchase a car: a four-door, five-speed, manual-transmission, Honda. Towards the beginning of his second year, he took five days and drove across the country back to Maine. It was, naturally, the first time that he had ever done anything like that by himself and the experience greatly liberated him. The thought of driving across the country, by himself would have frightened him to death a year ago, but now it thrilled him and stirred his long-slumbering sense of adventure.
“You know Pam, I’ve been thinking. Yeah, I know, something I don’t do all that often, but if I decide to hold off on making a decision on selling, how about getting a bunch of us together and spending our Christmas break up there? You know, depending on what happens, of course.”
Pam looked over at Eric and gave him a big thumbs- up for the idea.“Yeah, that would be a great idea! We could bring-up all of our supplies and have an extended party. You know, we could even bring a turkey and cook it for Christmas.”
Suddenly, Eric was getting into this thing, “You know, this is sounding better and better, but Pam, do you even know how to cook a turkey?”
Showing posts with label the farm house. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the farm house. Show all posts
09 January 2012
07 January 2012
The Farm House: Chapter-3A
Continuing from last time...
Since the next day was Friday and he did not have any classes, Eric called the lawyer’s office and set-up an appointment for later that afternoon. Luckily, Pam didn't have classes either, so she was able to go with him. They walked to the Student Union Building, grabbed a sack lunch, and then headed for I-95 and the 2 ½ hour drive to Portland.
“Thanks for inviting me along, Eric. I'm so glad to be able to get away from campus for a while. Ever since I became an RA, it seems like I never get a chance to go anywhere anymore.”
Eric glanced over at Pam and said, “Hey, I’m glad you were able to come, too. I know that it’s not going to be the most exciting day we could have, but maybe when we’re done, we could go find something fun to do.”
Adjusting her sunglasses Pam said, “That sounds great and because I have elected to give up my valuable Friday to accompany you on this little adventure, at the very least, I think that I deserve a lobster dinner.”
Since the next day was Friday and he did not have any classes, Eric called the lawyer’s office and set-up an appointment for later that afternoon. Luckily, Pam didn't have classes either, so she was able to go with him. They walked to the Student Union Building, grabbed a sack lunch, and then headed for I-95 and the 2 ½ hour drive to Portland.
“Thanks for inviting me along, Eric. I'm so glad to be able to get away from campus for a while. Ever since I became an RA, it seems like I never get a chance to go anywhere anymore.”
Eric glanced over at Pam and said, “Hey, I’m glad you were able to come, too. I know that it’s not going to be the most exciting day we could have, but maybe when we’re done, we could go find something fun to do.”
Adjusting her sunglasses Pam said, “That sounds great and because I have elected to give up my valuable Friday to accompany you on this little adventure, at the very least, I think that I deserve a lobster dinner.”
03 January 2012
The Farm House: Chapter-2B
Continued from earlier...
Eric slowly sat up in bed and looked around his small dorm room. It was just big enough to turn around in, but it was his home. Once again, he recalled the circumstances that landed him here at the University of Maine. A university that was clear across the country from where he grew up.
Eric slowly got out of bed and reached over to turn-on the coffee machine. Mornings were bad enough, but mornings without coffee were just unthinkable. With the coffee going, he put on his robe and began his usual morning routine with a walk down to the bathroom and a nice hot shower.
Walking down the narrow hallway to the bathroom, he ran into one of his suite-mates, “Hey, Steve, how’s it going?”
Steve, who stood at a staggering six-feet, five inches staggered over and said, “I’m here, but other than that, I can’t comment at the moment.”
“I know exactly what you mean. There’s coffee in my room if you want some. Just go on in.”
Looking as if there was actually some life left in him, Steve muttered, “Thanks, man.”
Eric lived in a dorm that housed about eighty students and was built in the form of an “H”. If you looked at the “H”, the middle part would be the main lounge on the first floor, a group of rooms, or suites, on the second floor, and a game room, kitchen, and laundry in the basement. The two legs of the “H” contained two groups of seven rooms on each floor, called suites. There would be eight students in each suite (suite-mates), which had a small, common lounge and a bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, Eric walked to the shower, reached in and turned the water on. Once the water was hot enough, he stepped into the shower and, standing under the streaming hot water, he started to go over the strange dream he had just had: Why would he be staying in a strange house in the first place? Would he actually be dumb enough to provoke a ghost, or whatever it was?
However, the main concern facing him was why he was having this dream in the first place. If this was the first time he had it, there would not be a problem and he could just chalk it up to random weirdness, but he has had this dream many times and they always ended in the same way: running away from something. Well, trying to run away from something, that is. It's such a strange sensation when you're in a dream and it feels as if you are running through mush. You run and you run, but you hardly move, while whatever is chasing you gets closer and closer. There must be a reason, but what is it?
Later, after another tough day of working on the grounds crew and then attending night classes, it felt great to be able to get back to the dorm and relax. As Eric walked through the front door Pam, the Resident Advisor on duty, handed him an official-looking letter and said, “This came for you today and it looks like it might be important, so just remember, if you’ve inherited a million bucks, I’m your gal.”
“Thanks, Pammy, I always knew you wanted me for my money,” Eric said, smiling.
Smacking him playfully upside the head, she blew him a kiss and walked back into the office.
Looking at the letter, Eric saw that it came by certified mail and that the return address seemed to be some sort of lawyer’s office. Hey, what if Pam was right and he did inherit a million bucks? Oh well, things like that only happened to other people.
Opening the letter, Eric read through it once and then had to go back and read through it again. The letter stated that he had inherited a 400 year-old farm and some money from an uncle. It then went on to say that he would have to stop by the lawyer’s office in Portland to sign some papers.
Turning towards Pam, he said, “Uh, Pam, is that offer still open?”
To be continued...
The Farm House: Chapter-3A
Copyright © 2010 by Tim A Hicks. All Rights Reserved
The Farm House on Smashwords
Read from the first installment here... The Farm House Chapter: 1A
Eric slowly sat up in bed and looked around his small dorm room. It was just big enough to turn around in, but it was his home. Once again, he recalled the circumstances that landed him here at the University of Maine. A university that was clear across the country from where he grew up.
When I was in high school, I devoted so much time to my studies, that I neglected to save time for friends and as a result, grew more and more isolated from society. It soon became a routine of going to school, coming home and doing homework, then sleeping and finally, getting up at 3:00AM to deliver newspapers; only to have the cycle repeat itself.
It had become so bad that I even dreaded going out of my room for any reason. After I graduated from high school, I attended a University in town and continued the same old routine. Finally, after I got my degree, I knew that I would have to force myself to get a life and that meant leaving the comfort of this room and routine. With this on my mind, I applied for the University of Maine Graduate program in History and was accepted. No longer, would I be able to hide from people; I would be forced to live and eat with total strangers.
So, my dad and I packed-up the pickup and we drove across the country to Maine. At first it seemed as if the trip would be days of forced conversation, but after the first day, I actually started to enjoy talking to my dad. Towards the end of the journey, I found out things about my dad that I had never known before and for that, I was grateful. Arriving on campus and checking into my room, my dad and I spent the rest of the day just walking around, going to the zoo, and just talking. We had a final dinner together and than the next morning, I stood in the parking lot and watched my dad leave on his journey home. It was then that I discovered that I was truly now alone. It would be up to me to force myself to make friends or otherwise, it would be a long and lonely life.
Walking back to the dorm, I resolved to make myself stay out of my room as much as possible. With this in mind, when I found out that there was an opening on the university grounds crew, I quickly applied for a job and began work. I also forced myself to watch TV, not in the comfort of my tiny room, but out in the main lounge with the rest of the residents. Soon, I began to make friends, not only with the people that lived in my suite, but with others in the dorm. By forcing myself to be more active and by going places with my new friends, I discovered something that had been missing from my life all these years…fun.
Yes, I was actually having fun for the first time in my life and, by the end of that first year, I had made a number of lifelong friends. Now, in my second year I found that I truly enjoyed my life and was happy for the first time in years.
Walking down the narrow hallway to the bathroom, he ran into one of his suite-mates, “Hey, Steve, how’s it going?”
Steve, who stood at a staggering six-feet, five inches staggered over and said, “I’m here, but other than that, I can’t comment at the moment.”
“I know exactly what you mean. There’s coffee in my room if you want some. Just go on in.”
Looking as if there was actually some life left in him, Steve muttered, “Thanks, man.”
Eric lived in a dorm that housed about eighty students and was built in the form of an “H”. If you looked at the “H”, the middle part would be the main lounge on the first floor, a group of rooms, or suites, on the second floor, and a game room, kitchen, and laundry in the basement. The two legs of the “H” contained two groups of seven rooms on each floor, called suites. There would be eight students in each suite (suite-mates), which had a small, common lounge and a bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, Eric walked to the shower, reached in and turned the water on. Once the water was hot enough, he stepped into the shower and, standing under the streaming hot water, he started to go over the strange dream he had just had: Why would he be staying in a strange house in the first place? Would he actually be dumb enough to provoke a ghost, or whatever it was?
However, the main concern facing him was why he was having this dream in the first place. If this was the first time he had it, there would not be a problem and he could just chalk it up to random weirdness, but he has had this dream many times and they always ended in the same way: running away from something. Well, trying to run away from something, that is. It's such a strange sensation when you're in a dream and it feels as if you are running through mush. You run and you run, but you hardly move, while whatever is chasing you gets closer and closer. There must be a reason, but what is it?
Later, after another tough day of working on the grounds crew and then attending night classes, it felt great to be able to get back to the dorm and relax. As Eric walked through the front door Pam, the Resident Advisor on duty, handed him an official-looking letter and said, “This came for you today and it looks like it might be important, so just remember, if you’ve inherited a million bucks, I’m your gal.”
“Thanks, Pammy, I always knew you wanted me for my money,” Eric said, smiling.
Smacking him playfully upside the head, she blew him a kiss and walked back into the office.
Looking at the letter, Eric saw that it came by certified mail and that the return address seemed to be some sort of lawyer’s office. Hey, what if Pam was right and he did inherit a million bucks? Oh well, things like that only happened to other people.
Opening the letter, Eric read through it once and then had to go back and read through it again. The letter stated that he had inherited a 400 year-old farm and some money from an uncle. It then went on to say that he would have to stop by the lawyer’s office in Portland to sign some papers.
Turning towards Pam, he said, “Uh, Pam, is that offer still open?”
To be continued...
The Farm House: Chapter-3A
Copyright © 2010 by Tim A Hicks. All Rights Reserved
The Farm House on Smashwords
Read from the first installment here... The Farm House Chapter: 1A
02 January 2012
The Farm House: Chapter-2A
Continued from last time...
Eric was alone in his uncle’s house. The 11:00 O’ Clock news was on and there was some story about a guy who raised a record-sized pumpkin and was exhibiting it at the fair. When they ran stories like that, you know that it was a slow news day. His uncle's cat Elsa, was doing her usual routine of sitting and staring at him; that cat wasn’t good for much else…what cat is? It was when the news was over that Eric realized what happens next…bedtime. He knew that he would have to go to bed, but the thought frightened him, and he didn’t seem to know why. It could have something to do with the fact that he would have to turn-off all the lights and try to sleep in the dark, empty, and let’s not forget, BIG house. The fact that there were neighbors all around him did nothing to alleviate his anxiety. It was a well-known fact that when the lights went out, the ghosts came to life. Everybody knows that!
“Elsa, will you stop that tearing around like that! You had all day to play, there’s no need to run around the house and…”
Eric was alone in his uncle’s house. The 11:00 O’ Clock news was on and there was some story about a guy who raised a record-sized pumpkin and was exhibiting it at the fair. When they ran stories like that, you know that it was a slow news day. His uncle's cat Elsa, was doing her usual routine of sitting and staring at him; that cat wasn’t good for much else…what cat is? It was when the news was over that Eric realized what happens next…bedtime. He knew that he would have to go to bed, but the thought frightened him, and he didn’t seem to know why. It could have something to do with the fact that he would have to turn-off all the lights and try to sleep in the dark, empty, and let’s not forget, BIG house. The fact that there were neighbors all around him did nothing to alleviate his anxiety. It was a well-known fact that when the lights went out, the ghosts came to life. Everybody knows that!
“Elsa, will you stop that tearing around like that! You had all day to play, there’s no need to run around the house and…”
01 January 2012
The Farm House: Chapter-1B
Continued from last time...
It wasn’t until a few months later that I discovered the truth about the farm that Steve lived on. We were having dinner at the local steakhouse, when I decided to ask Steve about his unique living situation. In between bites of my medium-rare steak, I asked,
“You know, when you first came into my office and told me the reason you wanted to fast- track your will, I was very intrigued as to what your situation was. Now that we know each other better, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind elaborating on your problem?”
Although he had been expecting this question to come up, Steve was still debating as to whether or not to tell Bob about his problem. After all, he could very well write him off as a nutcase.
31 December 2011
The Farm House: Chapter-1A
Have a Happy New Year, everyone!!!!
I figured that since the first 20% of my book is free to view when you visit Smashwords (where you can obtain an e-Book copy: link to follow), that I could do the same thing on my site. So, over the next few days, I'll run the "free" part of my book for all of you. I hope you enjoy it.
I am also very proud to announce that I am now a contributing author to Operation e-Book Drop.It is a group of independent authors who donate their ebooks to deployed coalition troops.
“Well, that’s it then,” Bob said as he wearily removed his glasses. “I can’t believe he’s gone. You know, Paul, I feel like it’s my fault that this happened.”
Paul leaned forward and said, “Hey, we’ve been through this a thousand times already. You did everything that you possibly could to get him out of there. It’s not your fault that he was too stubborn to leave.”
“I know, Paul, it’s just that in the back of my mind, I feel that I could have done something more, that’s all.”
Bob eased himself from his highly polished walnut desk and turned to look out the window. His law office was located on the twelfth floor of a twenty-story office tower that overlooked the ocean. It amazed him that he ever got involved with the old man to begin with. It seemed like just a simple thing at first; this guy comes into the office to get his affairs in order, the will is written, witnessed, and the bill is sent: end of story. Yet, there was something about the older gentleman that spoke to Bob. Was it the way he talked, with that unique New England accent, or the fact that there seemed to be some sort of urgency in the way he was going about settling his affairs.
While Bob stared at the sailboats plying around the bay, he remembered that meeting like it was yesterday:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
