𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. | ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭.

There's Someone In My Town Who Knows Things He Shouldn't.

There's really nothing special about my town at all. Just another sleepy little factory town among the dozens scattered between the rows of endless corn and soybeans in the Ohio valley. Once upon a time it was a happy, dozy little place. Kids ran around the neighborhoods while their parents worked in the factory. Everyone had enough money to live comfortably. Old folk retired and sat on their porches, neighbors helped each other out when it was needed, and everyone's doors were unlocked, but there were downsides too. I guess we should've seen them coming, but hindsight's' always 20/20 right?

Factory work leads to back and knee pain, which leads to Percocet prescriptions. Then the factories started shutting down. Which led to poverty, poverty and Percocet prescriptions created a perfect breeding ground for heroin. Which in turn led to a perfect breeding ground for crime, and one day kids stopped playing outside. Folks stopped talking to each other, Doors stayed locked, and people became leery of their neighbors.

But still, nothing special about that. From here to the old Coal towns of West Virginia, to the Farm towns in Indiana it was the same song and dance. Small towns were dying, and most death is slow and ugly. Our little town was no exception to the changing tides. I really started noticing the struggle around 2010.

I guess that's when we all started noticing "Knock-Knock" too.

Believe it or not Small towns have a homeless population just like big cities do. It's not as vast. There are no giant ramshackle camps off of railroad tracks, no Skid rows or anything like that, but we got them. They hang out at the twenty four hour gas stations after hours. Sleep in tents under bridges if they can't find a motel or a shelter to lay their heads down at night. They wander up and down the main drags in the same clothes with the same defeated looks on their faces. I guess in a way it's worse in the small towns than in the big cities. The saying about every small town is that "Everybody knows everybody."

And that's no lie. That homeless women you see shambling around main street at eleven in the evening used to babysit you when you were a kid. Her mom goes to your church, her kids go to school with you. It really puts a whole new level of sad reality onto the forlorn faces of homeless people you see in these small towns. It's a sad thing to witness.

For everyone except "Knock Knock" of course.

No one recognized him. No one knows who he is, where he came from, why he's homeless. Not even the other homeless folk. As a matter of fact they actually tend to go out of their way to stay away from him. I guess everyone does now, but at first, we noticed it with them. If he was on one side of a street they were quick to find their way to the other side of the street. They didn't talk to him, or even look at him. Some of the younger more volatile ones would even treat him with hostility. You'd see them pointing off in a different direction while shouting at him while he just did that crazy little laugh he always did.

He was one ugly fucking fish. No nice way to say that. Big guy with uncombed hair and a scraggly beard. He had two lazy eyes that kind of went off in opposite directions at all times that seemed even more separated by the huge scar he had in the middle of his face. Like the one's you'd see on the old lumberjacks that weren't careful with their chainsaws. He wore the same clothes every single day. Which I guess in retrospect isn't too surprising. It was more of the outfit that he'd chosen to live in that constantly raised an eyebrow.

He wore this huge trench coat. Even in the summer. Torn jeans and these big ratty boots that seemed to accentuate the limp he had in his stride. Visible dirt was always on his face. I don't think he ever showered. Not even creek or fountain baths, both of which were more than possible. He just kind of chooses not to. I'd be a liar if I'd said his demeanor wasn't unsettling, but what was even more unsettling was that fucking laugh.