The House at the End of Magpie Drive (Aug 2020)

Part 1

I placed the eleventh box on the red-brown linoleum floor of the kitchen and stretched my back. There were still three more out in my microvan, but I was tired. Taking my water bottle from the countertop, I wandered out to the dining room.

This house had a family room, a dining room, a kitchen, and a huge pantry all on the bottom floor. The second story had a study, two bedrooms, and two baths. There was a fold-out ladder stair in the study, leading to the attic. It was a huge house for one person, and the price was way too low. I had my suspicions, but I was not going to turn down home ownership for some old rumors of ghosts.

The only downsides of moving have been my lack of friends and my distrust of movers, so I have to move all my stuff myself. I can only fit 12 boxes in the back of my Mazda 5, and two more on the passenger seat. But not all my life can be packed into boxes.

There's furniture, of course, and all my paintings. The ones on my old apartment's walls had to be left behind. I also had to leave behind my roommate, Uzoamaka, who was planning to move out anyway. She finally found a partner and the relationship came with better housing arrangements. I honestly can't blame her. The apartment wasn't bad, but it wasn't good. Something was always broken and the front door didn't ever close properly. We had the money to move, but not the motivation.

So here I am, moving my life over 100 miles away from everything I've ever known. This town has odd vibes. Or at least an attitude toward the house I'm moving into. Over a mile of empty lots and crumbling piles of bricks leading to one old house on the last road in town does create a fantastical atmosphere. There seems to be a fog around the house as you drive up the road. The real estate agent never showed up, just mailed me the key.

I wiped some dust off the dining room table. It had eight chairs around it, all beautifully carved out of mahogany. There was a chandelier with most of the glass pieces missing. I started planning a repair job immediately. It probably should be rewired, too. The wiring seemed too modern for an abandoned house, but it appeared to be up to code. Only the chandelier was left disconnected.

There were two shelves on two walls, with a sparse collection of fancy dishware. One of the other walls had two tall decorative windows. One of the shelved walls also had two windows, on either side of the shelf. These windows looked out over the front porch and down Magpie Drive. The remaining wall was bare, and I figured I could paint some pictures for it.

The house was sort of furnished. There were no appliances and the master bedroom had nothing in it at all. The guest bedroom had a wardrobe, bed, and night table. The study had an old roll top desk and an armchair. Both bathrooms were well furnished, and the master bath had a claw foot bathtub. The living room needed a good cleaning, but there were two armchairs, a sofa, a table, and many bookshelves. The bookshelves were crammed with old, dusty books. I had enough furniture to compensate, except I needed more lamps and probably some potted plants.

I went up the staircase to the hallway and entered the study. It had one wall with windows looking out toward the back of the house. There was a forest, changing from summer greens to autumn browns in patches. It was mostly an evergreen forest, full of pines and firs. It would look magical when the first snow arrived, and I was beyond excited to paint it.

The walls of the living room, dining room, and both bedrooms were paneled, so I was not going to paint them. The kitchen and study were my best bets. I needed ideas, though, and I was willing to hold off until later. I wanted this house to be perfect for when I found a roommate.

The ladder stairs up to the attic would not budge when I pulled gently, then with more force. It would need some WD40 and a lot of elbow grease. I had to put my curiosity in the back of my mind as I wrote study stairs on a small notepad. The list already said paint, chandelier, steam cleaner, and doormat.

I thumped back down the stairs. It was 11 minutes to 7 and daylight was fading fast. There were three more boxes in the car and I hadn't put my bed together or planned dinner. The sun was sinking into the forest behind the house as I walked back out to the van. It backlit the house, casting an ominous shadow down Magpie Drive. I pulled out my cell phone and took a photo. It was Tuesday, the 22nd of September, I noted upon looking at my phone screen. Time flies when you spend all your time packing. I'm glad my new job doesn't start until next Monday. When I turned back to the car, I noticed that the three boxes in the back seat were no longer there.