The Livingstones

Chapter Four: The Yellow House on Kingspin Avenue

Jerome had let them off by telling them that Audrey's scotch was on the house. From what Jerome and the by-passers had told them, the Livingstones seemed to be a generous bunch.

"One time, they donated a lot to the orphanage that they had enough money to afford each orphan to go to college."

"Oh, the Livingstones? They helped to fund more than half of the fees for the construction of the local school."

"I heard the Livingstones received the key to the city once -"

Cameron snickered soundly at the last statement, in which Audrey elbowed him in the ribs, hard. Just the thought of getting a key that big only sounded amusing. Following their previous pace, they looked for an oddly colored house in a street of trendy shops and retail stores.

"My heavens, Audrey," gasped Cameron, feverishly tapping her on the shoulder.

House number 9 would've looked utterly normal if it hadn't been painted a sunny yellow. The house wasn't big, it wasn't small either, but it was yellow. In all of Cameron and Audrey's experiences combined, they have never seen everything as bright as this; life in Ohio had been only so dull.

The American flag fluttered on the front porch, hanging from a thin metal pole that held it in a certain angle. Green grass was booming on their front lawn and the wide variety of vibrant flowers shocked Audrey that there were that many flowers in the world.

No sprinklers! Audrey thought. Whoever was gardening this lawn was a sure artist in horticulture.

There was a path made out of beautifully cut boulders leading to the backyard, where she saw a white metal table with two comfortable chairs under a bright, red parasol. Painted a contrasting white, the wooden steps lead towards the porch I  which was framed with an amber-colored door.

"We'll I'll be darned," Audrey muttered under her breath. "We're here." She stepped on the boulder path and climbed the creaking steps. The wooden slats on the porch was so delicately smooth that Audrey nearly slipped. Right next to the door was a doorbell. And Audrey didn't know how a doorbell worked.

"You press it and they'll open the door - usually," Cameron added as an afterword. Audrey gulped and prayed, "Cross your fingers."

Pressing the doorbell with her index finger, a bellowing noise similar to a church bell boomed from inside the house. Amazed by this unfamiliar contraption, Audrey pressed it again in satisfaction.

"I've gotta get me one of these doorbellies one day," she grinned, repeatedly making the bell ring.

In the middle of her 23rd or 25th ring, an angry stomping across hardwood floor echoed from inside the house and a hoarse, Hispanic female voice barked, "Give me a second! Just be patient!"

When the door began to unlock, Audrey leaped back like a scalded cat. The yellow door opened only to be closed a few moments later by the same female.

"Wait! Please open! Open sesame, please!" Audrey pleaded knocking desperately on the door.

Audrey nearly stumbled forwards as the door opened backwards. The same woman who had shut the door impolitely in front of their noses scowled at them.

"Selling girl scout cookies?" she asked in mock interest. She grabbed the handle of the door, ready to shut the door on  them again. "Not interested."

Audrey blocked the door with her hand and eyed the Hispanic woman with eyes full of helplessness.

Her raven hair was tousled just a few millimetres above her shoulder. A few strands of her hair blocked her royal-blue eyes, in which were cynically scrutinizing Cameron and Audrey. She sported a licorice-black hooded jacket with a spiked heart on the front, baggy grey sweatpants and a pair of tartan slippers. Her cherry-red lips were twisted in a grim downwards curve and her olive-brown arms folded across her chest.