Now I believe in all sorts of things that people call parapsychology … so, what I am about to say may or may not fall into that realm … you decide.
The house on the next street south of me has been empty since sometime in the fall. I didn’t see the people move … one day they were just gone. This old rock house is directly across from mine and most days I would see the middle school aged son walking to school as I went about my morning outside chores. Many mornings he would have to take a ginger colored kitten back home since the cat followed him. It was obvious the boy and the cat were best friends.
When the family disappeared, the ginger cat showed up to eat with my barn cats. He was (is) a friendly cat and was accepted by everyone. I don’t know if they left him behind intentionally … or … as cats are prone to do … the ginger cat was wandering about and they didn’t (couldn’t) take time to look for him in their leaving.
Regardless, he is now part of my little cat colony. He is now my cat or perhaps I am his person. I call Ginger because it fits him and he seems to recognize that is his name. He doesn’t know a stranger greeting everyone animal and human with that perfect body hug that only cats can do. Ginger particularly loves the yard man, the UPS driver and my next door neighbor — a men by the way and he gives them equal time when he sees each of them.
The strange thing is I never see him return to the rock house on the corner. Perhaps they didn’t so much leave him as he chose not to go with them even though he loved the young boy. Cats are like that … they make their own path given the opportunity.
One evening a few days ago … a weekend … I think, I heard the familiar rattle of dominoes being shuffled. No one lives in the rock house on the corner, but the sound was definitely coming from the side year. Looking closer, there was a card table under the trees between the crumbling wooden garage and the workout bag hanging from a tree … the bag was left by yet a different previous family. In the filtered pre-twilight early evening light the whole men and table set up was not really clear … kind of sitting in a strange mist or like looking through a gauze veil. I may or may not have been wearing my glasses when I noticed this group.
At any rate, thinking back o this perfectly normal scene … albeit out-of-place right now … was this real … or was it a fold in time. Was I seeing a real domino game with real old men under the trees in the back yard of an empty rock house … or was this something that happened long ago or had yet to happen … something that slipped through a crack in time?
Since the long time residents moved last year there have been several short-termers. Perhaps it is a haunted house and recent renters cannot stay.
When I was a child, an old man named Bear Allen owned that house. It was nicely kept and I remember Bear and his friends playing dominoes in the backyard under the trees on beautiful spring weekend afternoons.
I guess I will never know if this was real or a flash in time unless I see them again and have the courage to walk over to say hello …
© 2017 Annie Original Flash Fiction
Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie