Haunted House Flipper

Chapter 3

As I crawled through the tunnel I kicked up a little dust near the end of it under the bus stop bench. It floated up in front of me backlit by the sun looking like golden pixie dust. I pulled off the magical glasses and stowed them in my pocket so they wouldn't get dirty. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the blinding daylight.

I popped my head out and saw that I wasn't alone on the block anymore. A homeless man screamed and jumped back. Then he watched in silence as I pulled myself forward and stood. My pants were caked in dirt. The homeless guy started to laugh.

"What were you doing under their man?" he said. He slapped his knee which was filthy and sticking through his torn pants. "I thought I was tripping, but I swear I haven't taken anything in a long time," he said.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I dropped my pen and it rolled away under the bench. I couldn't reach it until I climbed under there."

"Must be some pen. Just how long were you under there man? I've been standing here for a while. I didn't hear you either."

"Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing," I said. "I'm running really late to show a house. I am a realtor. Anyway, they texted me asking where I was so I had to text back and let them know I was still coming. I don't want to lose a client over my car breaking down this morning."

"Well, I'm sorry for your troubles. That's a pretty funny story man. Your car broke down?"

"Yeah. I couldn't get it to start."

"Where you headed, if you don't mind me asking?" he said.

"I'm headed to Westbrook."

"Oh yeah? That's a nice neighborhood. The 37 will get you there. That's the one I'm waiting for. It will be here in a few minutes. I'm going past there to get downtown. Gotta earn my living," he said pulling a ragged accordion from behind his back.

"Awesome. Thanks for the tip. Yeah there are a lot of nice houses there..."

I stopped talking as he started to play. I have to admit he made that busted up old instrument sound like an orchestra. I was really impressed. I nodded my appreciation of his song. He ended the song, pulled off his dusty black hat, and tipped it my way.

"Sorry I don't have any cash on me," I said. It was a lie, but I was a selfish scrooge back then and didn't want to share any of my precious money with anyone.

"Then that one was for free," he said putting his hat back on.

"It was very impressive," I said.

"Thanks. That was Presto from Summer by Vivaldi."

"Where did you learn to play like that?" I asked.

"In a past life my friend," he said. And then all of the sudden his face twisted in a painful grimace and he mumbled something in a low voice. It sounded evil and kind of freaked me out.

After that we both waited in silence for the bus. Even though his presence made my ascent out of the tunnel awkward, it was nice to know the bus had not come yet. As far as I was concerned it could not have come sooner. I was still trying to wrap my brain around what I had found. I couldn't stop reaching for the invisible sword on my hip to double check that it was there, even though I could feel the weight of it sagging on my belt.

The bus pulled up. It let out loud weird sounds the driver slammed on the brakes and brought the massive rectangle on wheels to a stop. It stunk too. The exhaust was powerful and I hope it would smell better onboard as I climbed the steps and paid for my ticket. I sat down and tried to calm myself. It didn't smell much better on the bus, just different. Kind of a cold metallic smell paired with a weird strong odor I assumed was coming from the fake leather chairs. At least they were fairly comfortable.