We're Not Strangers Anymore

Chapter Eight - The Man In The Window

That really is the shiftiest looking building I have ever seen in my life.
Charlie Broomer scratched his head and continued to walk down the road, his good friend Jamie Manley by his side.
'Jamie, is that your house over there, the one with all the lights out?'
He took a second to blow his nose, and then came back with, 'yeah, why? Don't you like the look of it?'
Charlie looked down at his watch.
'No no, I do, it's not that mate, it's just.. well, I make it about quarter past seven now, if my watch serves me correctly that is, and I'm just wondering why all the lights are out in your house?'
Jamie stopped walking, a look of dead certainty painted across his face.
'The lights aren't out, Charlie. It's the windows.. they're blacked out.'
'Blacked out? What do you mean?'
'It's my Dad.. he gets really paranoid about people coming over, people that he doesn't know well, and he boarded them up ages ago. He sometimes moves them to let in some light, but I don't quite know what for.'
Charlie was utterly bewildered at this set of naive-sounding statements. He felt uneasy.
'What, and you've just never asked?'
'Well, no, I told you before. My Dad is a very private man, Charlie, and neither me or my Mum like to ask.'
'Fair enough,' Charlie added under his breath, still as confused as he was before receiving his answer. After a few more seconds of walking they had finally reached Jamie Manley's house, and it was a sight that quite frankly had to be seen to believed. Charlie's first thought was that the house was tall, taller than he'd ever seen before. It was almost like a miniature cathedral, he also thought, and the entire place had a very gothic feel about it.
Man, I'm not the judgemental type, and Jamie knows that for a fact, but what's he doing living here? A house like this should be on a documentary about weird living, not just sitting at the end of some random British street. I mean, just look at the colour of it, it's jet black all over. That Manson Family certainly wouldn't look out of place here, and I'll tell you what el-
'So, what do you think man, now that you're a little closer up?'
We certainly are closer up, Charlie thought.
'Yeah mate, yeah, it's awesome. Anyway, I should probably be heading ba-'
'No, Charlie, don't. Listen, you've had me over today and I've had a fucking awesome time dude, really awesome, and I want to repay the favour. Why don't you come inside and we'll blast some more records out? Yeah, sound good?'
Charlie paused for a second and sighed, shaking his head comically.
'Yep, alright then,' he finally said.
'Great,' said Jamie, 'I just need to go and check with my old man first, that alright?'
Hmm.
'Yeah, whatever, I'll just be out here then.'
'Cool. Don't go anywhere.'
Approximately three minutes had passed now, three slow moving minutes, and Charlie was growing frustrated to say the least.
'Come on, Jamie,' he whispered under his breath, 'where the hell are ya?'
A paranoid tapping sound quickly came out of nowhere, and to Charlie it sounded like two light knocks on the slightly shattered glass window.
It's just your imagination, Broomey. You were even saying yourself how fucking creepy this place looks from the outside, it's just your imagination. Your damn, overactive imagination.
And then he heard the noise again.
Tap tap.
The hell was that?
He very quickly wished he hadn't looked now. A gap in the window, where the blackboard had been ever-so-slightly moved. In that gap (and in the shadows, an area quite clearly devoid of sunlight) stood a tall figure, a tall man who was bald and almost faceless. He had facial features, of course, it would be ludicrous if he didn't, but the man in the window seemed to have very bland and generic features, and Charlie felt a shiver run down right to the base of his spine. Their eyes met, and for a brief second Charlie thought that he was going to pass out on the spot. He turned away.
What in the name of Christ was that? WHO was that, should I say? That wasn't Jamie's Dad, was it? It couldn't have been. It's been a few seconds now, I'll turn back round.
Charlie turned, even closing and re-opening his eyes, but the man was still there. His friend suddenly re-emerged, a look of sheer disappointment on his face.
'I'm sorry, Charlie. My parents said they have a lot on tonight, they're both really busy, so I can't.'
Jamie tried to make eye contact with Charlie, but it just wasn't possible. Charlie Broomer's eyes were fixated on one thing and one thing only - the man in the window.
'Say, Jamie..?'
'Yeah? What you looking at, Charlie, is it the grass? I know, it needs cutting. The front garden's a state, I'm well aware.. I keep telling Mum to get Dad to do it, but-'
'Jamie! Tea's ready!' a high pitched voice called from the kitchen, presumably his Mum, Charlie thought (or maybe it's that weird bloke in the window, putting on a female voice as well as a long, draping dress. Ouch, goosebumps).
Charlie smiled the whole thing off, and came up with: 'Hey, that's fine! Don't be disappointed, we'll do all of this again sometime!'
'Yeah, you'll have to come to my-'
'Anyway, got to dash Jamie my old mate, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Meet you in the canteen, that alright? Cool, bye!'
'Oh, okay. Yeah, I'll see you at school. Cheers, see you later.'
Jamie ran up the steps and within in a second he had vanished, gone just like that.
Charlie's eyes greeted the large, lower window again.
That's the basement, he figured. That drain pipe leads down past the window-ledge, I've worked that one out, but that is most definitely the basement. What the fuck is hiding down in the basement?
Suddenly, a bulging pair of eyes. Dilated, bloodshot pupils made contact with Charlie, and this time he panicked. He took a few steps back, ending up about three steps into the main road, and upon noticing this he stepped forward again. He blinked. Yet again, as expected, gone. Gone within the blink of an eye.
The man had gone, hopefully for good this time. All that remained was a slightly damaged window, no-one or no thing lurking behind it, covered yet again with that old, tired blackboard. His new best friend had gone inside for his dinner, and upon thinking this he could feel his heart sink, dropping right into his stomach.
He thought: well then, isn't this like old times?
It was set to be a long walk home, and now, Charlie Broomer really was all alone.