Sarah’s Home
By
Bob Conder

     Some people swore that the house was haunted. The years of neglect and the occasional vandalous abuse by scared children or bored adults, would help give the impression of evil or at the least a haven for those who do evil deeds. Broken windows, overgrown shrubbery, dying fruit trees, and a high-backed weathered rocking chair strangely placed upon the porch waiting to give comfort and ease to someone, all added to the dark mood.
  
     Sarah, a long slender figure dressed in a heavy coat to fight the chill, stood admiring the finely scalped wood trim that separated the falling eves and the rippled shingles. A few nails, some paint, and flowered, yes flowered curtains could give life to this house of shattered souls.
  
       Although her own past had dark times she regretted, to many could’ve, woulda, should'ves, a sordid past with moments that could have added to this sorrowed landscape. Perhaps, just maybe, this single house could help her heal and give the world something positive to judge her by. But why was she worrying about them again. Her past loomed on her shoulders and perhaps added to the roundness they now had. As a young girl she would watch as her older brother, Benjamin and his friends, would torture and kill birds, cats, and any other small animals they could get their hands on. What was it she saw in their eyes, their acts, and their hearts, which she found so intriguing?
  
     Tulips, daisies, and roses, that’s what this yard needs. If there is any life left in the fruit trees they would add beauty in the spring with their colorful blossoms and sweet fragrance, and preserves in the fall to tantalize the taste buds.
  
     Sarah now stood on the porch admiring the doorknob, a tarnished finely detailed brass lever probably handmade by an old artisan. She gently took hold of the knob and easily turned it, the door swung open with the expected creeks and groans. The oak wood floor looked solid, the large rag-tied carpet dim with dust, and the furniture unmoved for years looked somehow new compared to the outer appearance.
    
    In the kitchen plates, silverware, and blue tumblers were on the table, as though waiting for the family to sit and enjoy mother’s Sunday roast. Even napkins were folded and carefully placed with the silverware. The smell of a thanksgiving feast with fresh potato rolls, would be a pleasant addition, and fresh flowers oh lots of fresh flowers to color the scene.
  
     Sarah had longed for a home she could call her own, a place to care for, to clean and beautify. A home with a strong family, lots of children, and friends, yes friends to sit on the porch and drink tea with. Friends with hobbies they loved and husbands to gossip about.
  
     It would be dark soon, and with no electricity or even a  flashlight, the house would be scary once again. Funny she thought how darkness means danger. Undaunted, Sarah found the stairs and surveyed the bedrooms finding her new bathroom with rose flowered wallpaper. What a wonderful place!
  
     The sound of a dog and the laughter from mischievous boys awoke Sarah from her thoughts. She stood in the shadows of the upstairs window watching as they approached. Sarah remembered the pain evil deeds leave behind. It will stop now.
 
      As the boys approached the house, rocks, slingshots and destruction in hand, Sarah ran down the stairs across the dusty rugs and creaking floors, finding the door still open she rushed into the yard to face the evil doers.
 
      Some say the screams could be heard all the way to Tower Street a full mile away. Others heard the laughter of Sarah as she watched the boys run, scared to death by the tall ghost with a flowing coat, coming out of the house, boys tripping over each other trying to save themselves, trying to find the gate first and escape the certain agonizing death.
  
     With paint, nails, and time, Sarah changed the house into a home, found a husband and started a family. Friends, lots of friends came drinking tea and gossiped as she sat in the high-backed rocker. Her good deeds erased the past, and three scared boys earned money mowing lawns, trimming trees, and planting her tulips.

    Sarah had been a stranger when she came to our town, she taught us all how to be a loving neighbor, to find the light in the darkness. Thanks to her kindness and the beauty it brings we transformed all the homes in our town, one house at a time. Nothing was ever the same again after that.

THE END