The Stranger At My Door [Short Story]

Short Story

The northern winds blew cold, and the trees shivered as if shuddering. The sky flashed purple white, and the woods lit up with brightness. The sky roared titanically, and the darkness returned.

"Hello? Is anybody home?" The stranger looked back distastefully at the thunderheads in the sky. A gust of wind cut by his ear like a cold knife. He knocked on the door desperately, and shouted again. "Hello? Is ANYBODY--"

The door swung open, and the stranger jumped. "God, Jesus. You scared me, man." He breathed deeply, leaning forward on his knees.

The man who had appeared in the doorway looked at the stranger with no interest. Nothing in his face had changed when this stranger on his door jumped, laughed, and rose his hands in the little I-get-scared-easy gesture, and rolled the eyes.

The stranger noticed the indifference on the man's face, and quickly dropped his I-am-a-friendly-guy act and came to the point. "I'm a salesman, but I'm not here to sell you anything. I came to the town this morning, and right now I was on my way to the bus stand, but then suddenly this weather grew so terrible. I didn't see any shelter, and yours is the only house in sight, can I please come in just until the rain stops. Please, I can't afford to get ill, you know." He shook his briefcase at this, but the man in the doorway took no notice. He was just staring at the stranger's face.

The stranger smiled warmly and looked at the man with hope in his eyes. It was in the way that he looked that showed he was one of the few good ones who truly believe in human kindness. The ones who have never known no evil.

Still, nothing changed in the face of the man standing inside the doorway. He just looked at the stranger with indifference. Clouds crashed in the sky and thunder exploded. The stranger noticed that the man did not even blinked his eyes. He felt a cold finger go up his spine.

Then, suddenly, the man's face changed, and real warmness flooding in the man's eyes. "Oh, please, come in. I just... I have a lot on my mind."

There was something about this man's voice that made him feel comfortable. He nodded, and said, "I'm Mark--"

"I'm Alex Richards," The man in the doorway said, and flashed a grin that showed his both sets of molars.

Mark shook his briefcase in his hand, and pulled at his coat involuntarily, he wanted to show Alex that he wasn't some thug who's here with criminal intentions, but an actual salesman who's in actual need of shelter.

Alex had not even glanced at his briefcase. In the back of his mind, Mark was finding it hard to believe that Alex Richards, a person living in a summer house in the woods, would just welcome a stranger in his house without any question. Even though he was a subject of Mr. Richards kindness, he couldn't help but think that Mr. Richards may be foolish.

"This way," Alex said, and stretched his arm in the direction. Mark stepped in, and the first thing his eyes went to was a person sitting in front of the giant fireplace, wrapped in sheet, enjoying the sweet warmth of fire. It reminded Mark of his own Mom who used to sit just like this, wrapped in sheet, in front of a small bonfire that she'd make.

In the room they sat, facing each other. There was a big window on the wall beside them, and further on that wall was a big closet. There was a small bed in one corner, and otherwise the room was empty. It felt strange. It did not look a drawing room, so why was he brought here? This place looked like an empty spare room.

Well, because it was Alex's house and he can take anyone anywhere he damn well pleases, Mark told himself.

It had started to rain. The winds were blowing showers against the window, and the sky was flashing frequently. It seemed it may rain for hours.