Sleep Writer

SLEEP WRITER A S C I - FI ADVENTURE Sleep Writer by Keith Robinson Printed in the United States of America First Edition: December 2015 ISBN-13 978-1519673060 Copyright © 2015 Keith Robinson Cover design by Keith Robinson All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. Visit www.UnearthlyTales.com SLEEP WRITER A S C I - FI ADVENTURE KEITH ROBINSON Chapter 1 Liam Mackenzie scurried up the oak tree and settled on his favorite branch. He was only twenty feet above his mom’s flower bed at the side of the driveway but high enough to be hidden from the world behind a canopy of newly sprouted leaves. High enough to do some spying. From this vantage point, he could look down into the living room window where his mom was seated on the sofa reading a magazine and his dad was jabbing at the TV’s remote control. But Liam's focus was on the house next door, beyond the hedge. The two-story building had stood empty a few months now. Today the new neighbors were moving in. It was late morning on a crisp, cool Saturday in April. A huge mover’s truck rolled into the horseshoe driveway, halting with the back end aimed at the front door of the old house. The rattling engine cut off, the door creaked open, and a man jumped down. He stretched and went to greet a shiny silver car that was pulling up behind. Liam guessed the truck driver was the dad of the family. The mom stepped out of the driver’s side of the car, and they came together for a hug before turning to gaze at their new home. One of the car’s rear doors opened and a short boy climbed out. He looked about five or six, yawning wide as he ambled over to his mom. She ruffled his hair. “Awake at last, sweetie?” she said, her voice faint but clear from where Liam straddled his branch. 1 Nobody else got out of the car. Liam sighed. There were only six houses on this lonely, barely paved lane, and not one kid his age. He lived in the middle of nowhere, just within the city limits of Brockridge, with its historic railroad station, a sprinkling of stores, and nothing of interest for anyone but Civil War buffs and old people. East of the center, the main road meandered for miles through woods as though unsure where to go. One offshoot lane ended at a lake. Liam’s parents loved it here, but being the only kid for miles around wasn’t exactly fun. The new neighbor woman glanced toward the car. “Hey, wake up, sleepyhead! Come look.” Liam bolted upright, seeing slow movement through the windshield. Someone else was back there. Surely it was someone his age . A girl slid out. She had long black hair and wore dark glasses, a tight black T-shirt, a short black skirt, black leggings, and flat black shoes. Liam slumped in disappointment. Hanging out with a girl would be okay if she were his age, but this one was way older, probably sixteen or so. She wouldn’t want anything to do with him, and judging by how fed up she looked, Liam wasn’t sure he wanted anything to do with her either. She looked sulky even behind her shades. Her mom stepped past the small boy and hurried to take her hand. “Come on, Madison. Look at this place! How can you not be excited?” “She’s a teenager,” her dad commented. “It’s okay, I guess,” Madison said. Liam could barely hear her, and he strained to listen as she turned to face the road. “So how far’s the cemetery from here?” 2 “Here we go again,” the man grumbled and wandered off to inspect the house’s siding. “I need to know, Mom,” the girl said obstinately. “Madison, please stop asking about the cemetery.” “Yes, but . .” Liam listened intently, his curiosity piqued, as the mother lowered her voice and spoke earnestly to her daughter. Madison kept opening her mouth to reply but couldn’t seem to get a word in. Finally she shook her head. “Fine. Whatever.” The boy chose that moment to pipe up, “I’m hungry.” “Me too,” his mom said. “Let’s go inside.” She called to her husband and held out her hand. “Keys, m’ dear?” With keys jangling, she hurried up the short flight of steps to the porch. Liam knew she’d find that loose floorboard in a moment. The previous owner, a friendly old woman who’d died six months ago, had spent years stepping over it. Sure enough, as the new owner opened the front door and turned to call her family inside, her foot found the loose board and she stumbled. “Oh!” “You all right?” her husband said, starting up the steps. Moments later the parents and boy were inside the house, leaving a dejected teenage girl alone in the driveway. She chewed her gum for a moment, then slowly removed her shades, sighed, and trudged inside. It was quiet after that apart from a few exclamations from the mom, a grunt or two from the dad, and some whining from the boy. Madison made no sound whatsoever although she appeared briefly in an upstairs window. Not too long after, the dad sauntered out of the 3 house and disappeared behind the back of the truck. Liam heard the sound of a squeaky shutter rolling up and guessed the unloading was about to start. He watched for a while but soon grew bored at the endless parade of cardboard boxes. He was curious to see how one man and his wife would handle heavy sofas and cabinets, but all that stuff seemed to be at the front end of the truck. He slid down from the tree and headed indoors. “New neighbors are here,” he said as he wandered into the living room. “We saw,” his dad said, changing the TV channel. “I suggested we go out and greet them,” Liam’s mom said, arching an eyebrow over her magazine, “but your dad was worried he would feel obliged to help unload the truck.” “My back hurts,” he said, winking at Liam. “Well, I think we’re being rude.” She threw her magazine aside. “Come on, old man, on your feet. You too, Liam.” Groaning, Liam’s dad made a play of hobbling from the room. Once outside, he straightened up, strode to the five-foot hedge that separated the properties, and waved heartily to his new neighbor. “Hey! When did you arrive? Need some help there?” * * * The Parkers seemed nice enough and were happy to stand and chat. There was no sign of Madison or the small boy. Liam decided they were probably inside griping about their rooms or whining about being hungry. Dr. Parker, a radiologist, had managed to secure a job 4 in the nearest city—for a change of pace, they'd said. Liam vaguely remembered the real estate agent showing Dr. and Mrs. Parker around the old house months ago, along with a bunch of other people over the weeks. Now the FOR SALE sign read SOLD and leaned to one side in the overgrown grass. When Mrs. Parker mentioned about moving from a city to a small country town, Liam’s mom asked what she did for a living. Mrs. Parker shrugged it off as unimportant. “Oh, I’m an artist and illustrator,” she said. “A bit of secondary income, nothing special.” But her husband wouldn’t have it. He heaped praise on her work. “Book jackets, posters, magazines,” he said. “She’s really good. I know I’m biased, but still . .” “I work from home,” she said, blushing. “Most of my contacts are in New York, but it doesn’t really matter where we live as long as I have phone and internet.” “Ah, well, I have great internet,” Liam’s dad said. “I’m a website designer. I work from home too, so I need great internet. One day my son here will take over the business.” He patted Liam’s shoulder. “He's pretty good at all that stuff already.” “Interesting!” Dr. Parker said. He turned to Liam’s mom. “And what about you?” “Kindergarten teacher,” she said. “Oh! I wonder if Cody’s going to your school?” But he wasn’t. Liam’s mom worked at a school in another county. “Otherwise I’d have been happy to take him in with me each morning,” she told Mrs. Parker. “But since all three will be at Brockridge, maybe they can ride in together . .” And so it went. Liam grew bored listening to the 5 adults chatting amiably behind the truck. He glanced inside and saw stacks of cardboard boxes and plastic crates. Toward the front, furniture lurked in the darkness. The family seemed pretty well organized. Dr. Parker had left his car behind and borrowed his brother’s truck for a week. He planned to return it next Saturday, something like an eight-hour round trip. Mrs. Parker called for Madison and Cody, and as the conversation continued, two figures eventually emerged from the house. “Here they are,” Mrs. Parker said. “This is Madison. She’s fifteen.” Fifteen, Liam thought. Still way too old.

Load more