Charm, increment 1

I suggested that I would work on posting my two NaNoWriMo novels--reviewing and revising (at least slightly) in increments. I'll post in approximately 1,000 word increments as near as a good stopping point will allow. This effort may bog down from time to time if some other writing project interrupts it, such as an upcoming challenge on Skateboard.


Charm: Chapter 1

“Light!”

Becca crumpled the want ads against the console as the light changed to green, “Okay, where is Ridge Road?”

Claire, gripped the side of the seat as Becca stomped on the gas, and muttered through clenched teeth, “Ridge Road?”

“Yep. 1100 Ridge Road. It is the last house on the list.”

“I don’t think you want that house. Not if it is the one I think it is.”

Becca cast a sideways glance in her direction. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“People say it’s haunted.”

“Oh, don’t give me that! I don’t believe in that stuff. Just stories people tell their children to make them terrified to leave their beds. Now, tell me where Ridge Road is. I’ve forgotten.”

“I’ll bet it’s a mess. I don’t think that it has been lived in for years.”

“Every house we’ve seen is either a mess or they are asking too much for it.”

Claire sighed. “Head out on Carlton Road toward the golf course.”

“Okay.” Becca took a swift turn from Main street without taking her foot off the gas peddle, heading for Carlton Road. The neighborhood changed from turn-of-the-century store fronts to 20th Century strip malls and stores and acres of near empty parking lots. “What do you know about the house other than that it is haunted?”

“Not much. I think an old man lived there alone for years. It could be worse than a mess.”

Becca gave Claire a frown and a shrug as if to say it made no difference to her, “It is a Victorian. That’s what I’m looking for. And the more original the better, as far as I am concerned. I always dreamt of restoring an old house, but it wasn’t possible in Dallas.” Becca gave a hard turn of the wheel and the VW bug zipped around another corner and they were on the homestretch toward Ridge Road.

“Sounds like a lot of work, to me. I’d rather buy a nice clean house with all the modern conveniences, ready to move into. At least if I were in the market, I would” Housing developments slipped past them giving way to vast open fields. “When you pass the convenience store, take the first right.” Preparing for another sharp corner, Claire grasped hold of the armrest for support.

Becca pulled one of her fast turns. She stepped too hard on the gas, causing the wheels to spin on the gravel road. Claire’s hand clamped on the side of the seat again. Soon, the little car was flying along the narrow country road, more in the middle than on the right. One thing Becca hadn’t forgotten while living in the big city was how to drive on a country road, Claire thought. She grit her teeth as they hit a sharp curve going too fast. The back end of the car fishtailed momentarily. Other than a trailer or a modular house here or there, the fields along the road were open country and planted mostly in wheat, a light green haze over the fresh dark dirt. The sky was bright, clear blue and the trees they passed sported leaves turning from the dull olive drab of late summer to the high color of autumn. It would be a nice day for a ride if Becca wasn’t driving. Glancing in the rear view mirror, all Claire could see was the dust screen raised by the car as it tore down the road.

“How far is it?” Becca asked as the VW bug began a steep ascent up toward the top of a ridge, dust billowing out behind it.

“Not far, now. Once we get to the top here, you should be able to see it.”

“This is one rustic road.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of ‘em around here.” Claire caught her old friend’s glance and slight smile.

They crested the top of the ridge and Claire caught site of the old house. But before she had a chance to say anything, Becca said, “So that’s it, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s just what I’ve been looking for.”

“You haven’t seen it, yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. It has potential.”

Claire laughed. “Yeah. I’d look inside first, if I were you.”

Coming abreast of it, Becca finally slowed, turning into the graveled drive. She came to a stop right where the passenger side door was even with the narrow cement walk that lead to the front door, she turned off the ignition and pulled hard on the emergency brake. Leaning forward to look up at the house through the windshield, she declared, “It’s awesome!”

“Tiny tumbleweeds! Take a look at it first, would’ja?” Claire said, and they both laughed. “It could have years of filth in it. And, as long as its been vacant, who knows who’s been here ... vagrants, teens ... It could be really nasty.”

“Spit and polish. Just like Gran used to say. That’s all that would take.”

“Makes my mouth feel dry just thinking about it.”

Becca chuckled and popped the door open. “I think it looks as though it has been cared for.” Before Claire could get her own door open, Becca was already out, slamming the car door behind her.

Once she’d gained the sidewalk, she stopped to study the front of the house in more detail. She ran her fingers through her short cropped auburn hair as though to brush her bangs out of her eyes, but they had fallen back into place before she said, “At least they haven’t neglected to maintain it. The paint isn’t cracked or flaking off and the roof looks nearly new.”

The house was a typical Queen Anne, painted a soft gray green with dark green trim. A cupola dominated the view on the driveway side. The front door was painted the same dark green as the rest of the trim, and a delicate spindle-work surrounded the porch that continued across the front and around the tower. The windows were typical of the period and were tall and narrow, both upstairs and down. The dark green gingerbread was continued at each gable on the second story. The third story, barely apparent, was represented by a Queen Anne style gable in the front and a half moon window.