from: "Condry, Mark"
date: Thursday, September 16, 2004 8:25 PM
subject: the house
I tried calling you five times today but I got your machine. I
really need to talk. Call me soon as you can.
Where do I start? The house is still there. It’s this generic
one-story thing, bricks and siding. It must have been built at the
same time as the other homes in the neighborhood, but it just looks
older. The roof is scarred in places. The driveway hasn’t
held up like the others have. Cracks in the pavement. A plank is
missing from the side gate.
I rang the doorbell and figured I’d just talk to the new
owners. No one answered. I couldn’t really hear if it worked
or not. Blinds and curtains in the windows kept me from peering
inside. There was a dusty pickup truck with a warped front fender
parked in the driveway.
A neighbor across the street saw me checking it out. He talked
to me for a while, as he watered his shrubs. He hasn’t met
the person who lives in the house now, or if anyone is living there
really. He remembered Kurt, but not by name, just as the guy who
stayed there for a few months. The previous owners – Kurt’s
clients – didn’t live there that much longer. They had
all sorts of problems with the house. Electrical, heating, that
sort of thing. They moved out, left most of their furniture behind,
he said. Packed into a big RV one day and just drove off.
He still remembered their names.
John and Lucy Madson.