I wrote my first short story when I was in Year 4, so about 8 or 9. As I remember it was about someone trying to escape from an ancient Egyptian-like maze full of traps underneath an old abandoned house. Thrill seeking children get too inquisitive. End up down a trap door. Sands poring from cracks in the roof a room with stone walls and no doors. No hope for escape - until a last minute miracle. Things like that. I was pretty young but that's what I remember of it. Quite clearly funnily enough. I feel like it was a pretty good effort for someone of that age. I may even have a copy in a box somewhere.
Anyway, a short story that sort of fits with Halloween. I feel that I could improve this a lot. Characterising the old man's dialogue more. Giving the whole thing a little more life. But it's hard when you're trying to keep something to 800 words, which is what the mission usually was for short stories when I was studying comprehensive writing about 4 years ago, so I've worked with those constraints here.
I hope you enjoy this nonetheless. It's not meant to be scary. Just a bit of fun.
Heart & Soul
by
Joshua Jones
Nathan strolled around the cemetery’s rusted wire fence, his dog Maggie sniffing a nearby post. The names on the worn headstones meant nothing to him, but he knew they must mean so much to someone.
Maggie chuffed. To their right a man and his dog were crossing the park surrounding the cemetery. Nathan reconnected Maggie’s lead. The afternoon light was a hazy bronze. The man had short grey hair and the slow stooped gait typical of a tall, elderly man. His scruffy, squat-legged, boggle-eyed dog trotted forward like an overgrown ferret in need of a shower.
“He just wants to play.” His voice was odd – course, breathy and fragile.
Nathan shrugged away the shiver that coursed down his spine - old people’s voices sometimes sounded that way, he dismissed.
“Yeah, she’s the same.” – Nathan cleared his throat – “She loves meeting other dogs.” They watched the dogs introduce themselves with anxious sniffing.
“What breed is it?” Nathan asked, letting Maggie off her lead. The two dogs sprinted away, revelling in their freedom.
“Bitza – you know, bit o’Corgy, bit o’Kelpie.” The man’s smile encouraged Nathan to loosen up. “His name’s Billy,” the man continued, “and I’m Jim.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Nathan…” – Jim started walking before he’d finished – “…and she’s Maggie.” Nathan withdrew his offered hand with a puzzled expression.
“Yours is the corner house, right? 2 Fifth? We’re behind at 5 Fourth. I’ve seen you here before?”
Nathan eyed the deserted cemetery - not a soul in sight. “I walk her daily, but it’s hard with work.”
“Yeah, I’m retired but it’s still hard to find time.” They rounded the corner of the fence. “Where do you work?”
“Yeah, I’m retired but it’s still hard to find time.” They rounded the corner of the fence. “Where do you work?”
“Well, I’m a musician, but I also work at a nursing home on…”
“Really?! Doris and I love music. What do you play?”
“Bass principally, but I started piano when I was six.” The dogs raced past them. “I never wanted to practice, though.” Nathan was surprised by Jim’s enthusiasm. Most elderly people were more interested in his carer work.
“I learnt piano when I was young, too.” Jim’s pace slowed as he stared, eyes glassy, toward the dwindling sunset. “Never did much with it but I never gave it away either. I just like a tinkle now and then - to brush away the cobwebs.”
“I wish I had one at home. I might even buy one this Christmas.” Nathan glanced at the jumble of tilted headstones – like street-weathered eaves-droppers craning to hear.
“You should come and have a look at ours then. My wife’s pretty keen to sell – it doesn’t get played nowadays.” There was a wistful tone to Jim’s peculiar voice.
“Is it an upright?” Nathan enquired, any feelings of uneasiness swept away by a newfound excitement.
“No, it’s an electronic one that feels like a real piano. You know?”
“Sure. What do you want for it?” He tried to sound indifferent.
“Oh…three-hundred bucks I guess…” – Nathan’s eyes lit up – “…for you anyway – she’s got a big heart my wife.”
“That sounds great! When can I have a look?”
“No better time than now. The sooner the better as far as Doris is concerned.”
“OK, I can get cash from home.” Nathan beamed as they approached the dilapidated cemetery gate.
“If we don’t answer the door just open it and holler. Doris and I are both pretty hard of hearing these days.” They nodded and went in the direction of their homes, dogs in tow.
The sun was set by the time Nathan got to Jim’s and he was surprised to see the house unlit. Jim’s scuffed white trainers were by the door, though, so he knocked firmly.
No sound except the rumble of a truck on the nearby highway. He decided to do as Jim had advised and opened the door.
“Hello?” He called, somewhat gingerly. The silent blackness was imposing. Light came from a single doorway down the hall in front of him. A juvenile fear of dark drew him with urgency to the safety of the lit doorway, supported by the logic that Jim and Doris must be there.
As he turned into the room he jumped in fright. An old lady, Doris he presumed, lay face down on the floor next to the piano, a rag in one hand. He started first aid immediately. Thready pulse. No breathing. But she hadn't been down long. It seemed she may have had an arrhythmia. He could probably save her.
After some CPR her pulse strengthened and breathing returned. He sighed heavily – he should find Jim. Before he could look Doris made a groaning noise as she came to.
“Doris , are you all right?”
“What happened? Who are you?” Her voice was a croaked whisper.
“I think you had an arrhythmia. I’m a friend of Jim’s. I came to see your piano but found you passed out on the ground.”
“Yes…the piano.” Doris closed her eyes, with a pained visage. “That explains…the words…I could hear him…” She shook her head a little. Rimmed with tears her eyes opened. “…three hundred dollars. I was actually just cleaning it – thinking about Jim.”
Nathan was a little confused by her words. “Where is Jim? I saw his shoes by the door.”
“I couldn’t bring myself to move them –” Doris took a deep, shaky breath and squeezed Nathan’s arm with a clammy hand. “Jim passed away last month, dear.”
