Whispers [complete and non-edited]

Chapter 23

Laehal had trouble leaving the house. It held memories that he needed time to figure out, but he knew that the key to finding their hidden secrets lies with Urin Reeves. So, taking one last glance behind him, Laehal exited the little house and walked down the street. It was getting fairly dark. Laehal had forgotten about home. But something told him that he should find Urin Reeves first.

He didn't know which way to go. Which way was Fern Street? Left or right?

Do you know who I am yet, Laehal? came that soft voice from the school.

"No, not really," he replied.

The voice laughed. The answer is inside you. You must first remember.

"Could you help me find Urin Reeves? And this address? 145 East Fern Street?"

Of course. But it would take you too long to go by foot. Wait there, on that stump across the street. Help will come.

Laehal followed the voice's commands, and sat on the wide stump. The voice giggled, and then the stump began to rise.

Laehal cried out. "What's happening!"

Laughing again, the voice replied, Help has come, child. Do not worry, it answers to my call.

Laehal couldn't believe it. The stump was walking down the sidewalk on its roots. He couldn't help being afraid. It wasn't every day that you got carried around by a living stump.

The walk was not smooth. Far from it, if anything. If he leaned to one side, so did the stump, and he nearly fell off. And whenever one side of the stump went over a big rock or lump, it tipped over. But the stump was quick to get to East Fern Street, and even faster to get to 145 East Fern Street.

The house was not very large. All the windows he could see were boarded up. The door was colourless and dull, and its hinges were rusting. In all, it was a very run-down house. Laehal couldn't see how anyone could live here. Maybe Urin Reeves was code for something?

The stump abruptly stopped, sending Laehal to do a face plant in the dirt.

Here we are. 145 East Fern Street. Go on now. I'll wait for you out here, Laehal.

Spitting, Laehal walked up to the door and pushed on it. Not unto his surprise, it opened easily, hinges creaking. Inside, it smelled of dust--badly--and mold. He stood on the doorstep gagging for a few seconds. How could someone live in this?

He contemplated calling out Urin's name, but decided against it. What if Urin was a bad person? He probably wouldn't want a kid in his house.

So he stealthily entered the house, creeping along the walls. It was a one story building. There was no basement. There was no attic. There was no sign of life. Except for a small pile of blankets in the very back of the house surrounded by open boxes of frosted flakes.

Laehal didn't know what to do now. Search for Urin? Or leave and come back another day? Maybe in the morning, when it's not so dark?

Laehal was getting cold feet.

But that was when he could see the pile of blankets move. He held his breath and hid in the shadows--which were really dusty and cobwebby.

"I'm sorry, I don't recall making an appointment for Ungodly-o'clock. Leave me be," grumbled the blankets.

Laehal yelped.

"Well you don't gotta be so noisy about it, do you? No!"

"S-sorry, I was j-just wondering if this was where I could meet with Urin Reeves...," Laehal stuttered.

"I don't know no Urin Reeves. Now leave."

"You must be mistaken, sir. Is this not 145 East Fern Street?"

"Just leave me alone. Ain't no Urin here."