Read Online A Man Overboard by Shawn Hopkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shawn Hopkins
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rang the doorbell.
No answer.
He skirted around the house, careful to avoid short rows of bushes and flowers before coming to the green chain-link fence separating the front yard from the back. Flipping the latch, he quickly went to the patio and tried the back door. Figures she locks her own door . He didn’t know of any hidden key kept under a gnome or a doormat and looking around, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The patio was clear, not a single thing on it capable of hiding a key. He wondered when she’d gotten rid of the outdoor furniture and the plastic flamingos. But peering through the window, not entirely unaware of how his behavior might appear to watching neighbors, he was confronted by yet another mystery.
What in the…
The living room was empty. And not empty as in no one was in it, but empty like… empty .
Throwing aside all reservation, he kicked the glass window above the doorknob, cracking the pane into big diagonal pieces that shattered when they hit the patio. There was nothing more recognizable than the sound of breaking glass, whether a bottle, a window, or a windshield, and any neighbor that heard the noise would ID it for sure. But he was beyond caring. Though an encounter with the police and the time it would take to explain things wouldn’t help his mood any.
Reaching through the broken glass, he unlocked the door from the other side. When he pulled the door open, more pieces of glass fell out of the window frame and exploded at his feet. A dog barked a few houses down.
“Viktoriya? Joseph?” he called out, stepping into the kitchen. It was completely empty, the cabinets all open and displaying nothing but vacant shelves. The humming of the refrigerator was the only indication of… anything . The stove wasn’t plugged in, its digital clock blank. There were no other clocks, calendars, pictures, or measuring cups on the wall, no droplets of water trickling lazily from the faucet positioned beneath a now curtainless window. No trashcan, coffee pot, microwave, toaster, paper towels, napkins, hand or dish soap. He opened the freezer. No ice cube trays. She was gone for sure. When the ice cube trays were missing, no one was coming back. But the refrigerator was still running. Why unplug the stove and not the fridge? He knew that it was recommended the appliance be left plugged in up to three weeks even without use, so was she planning on returning? Or maybe unplugging the fridge just hadn’t occurred to her. Or whoever she got to clear the place. It was obvious she hadn’t moved herself out. After all, she was too old to even run.
He went to the sink and ran his finger underneath the faucet, feeling for any trace of water. It was dry. He turned both knobs on full and was rewarded with nothing. The water was shut off.
Walking quickly through the rest of the house, worry finally began to set in. It was hard to avoid thinking that his mother-in-law’s abandoned house was somehow related to the masked men on the cruise ship, if only because both were unexplainable and had touched his life within a few days of each other. It didn’t feel like a coincidence, and his failure to make contact with the rest of his family became all the more unsettling.
He left the house, completely unsure of what to do next, and walked to his car. This time, he skirted the other side of the property, following the garage around to the driveway. As he came to the corner of the garage, where the white stucco met the blacktop in front and grass on the side, he found a couple of signs leaning against the wall. There were only a few things they could be: a political endorsement (which Viktoriya would never allow), credit for some kind of service done on her property, or…
He picked one up and turned it over, coming face to face with the big, bold letters.
FOR SALE BY OWNER.
Jack’s sense of the world continued to dive in an irrecoverable tailspin, and he wondered how long the dream would play out, what
No answer.
He skirted around the house, careful to avoid short rows of bushes and flowers before coming to the green chain-link fence separating the front yard from the back. Flipping the latch, he quickly went to the patio and tried the back door. Figures she locks her own door . He didn’t know of any hidden key kept under a gnome or a doormat and looking around, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The patio was clear, not a single thing on it capable of hiding a key. He wondered when she’d gotten rid of the outdoor furniture and the plastic flamingos. But peering through the window, not entirely unaware of how his behavior might appear to watching neighbors, he was confronted by yet another mystery.
What in the…
The living room was empty. And not empty as in no one was in it, but empty like… empty .
Throwing aside all reservation, he kicked the glass window above the doorknob, cracking the pane into big diagonal pieces that shattered when they hit the patio. There was nothing more recognizable than the sound of breaking glass, whether a bottle, a window, or a windshield, and any neighbor that heard the noise would ID it for sure. But he was beyond caring. Though an encounter with the police and the time it would take to explain things wouldn’t help his mood any.
Reaching through the broken glass, he unlocked the door from the other side. When he pulled the door open, more pieces of glass fell out of the window frame and exploded at his feet. A dog barked a few houses down.
“Viktoriya? Joseph?” he called out, stepping into the kitchen. It was completely empty, the cabinets all open and displaying nothing but vacant shelves. The humming of the refrigerator was the only indication of… anything . The stove wasn’t plugged in, its digital clock blank. There were no other clocks, calendars, pictures, or measuring cups on the wall, no droplets of water trickling lazily from the faucet positioned beneath a now curtainless window. No trashcan, coffee pot, microwave, toaster, paper towels, napkins, hand or dish soap. He opened the freezer. No ice cube trays. She was gone for sure. When the ice cube trays were missing, no one was coming back. But the refrigerator was still running. Why unplug the stove and not the fridge? He knew that it was recommended the appliance be left plugged in up to three weeks even without use, so was she planning on returning? Or maybe unplugging the fridge just hadn’t occurred to her. Or whoever she got to clear the place. It was obvious she hadn’t moved herself out. After all, she was too old to even run.
He went to the sink and ran his finger underneath the faucet, feeling for any trace of water. It was dry. He turned both knobs on full and was rewarded with nothing. The water was shut off.
Walking quickly through the rest of the house, worry finally began to set in. It was hard to avoid thinking that his mother-in-law’s abandoned house was somehow related to the masked men on the cruise ship, if only because both were unexplainable and had touched his life within a few days of each other. It didn’t feel like a coincidence, and his failure to make contact with the rest of his family became all the more unsettling.
He left the house, completely unsure of what to do next, and walked to his car. This time, he skirted the other side of the property, following the garage around to the driveway. As he came to the corner of the garage, where the white stucco met the blacktop in front and grass on the side, he found a couple of signs leaning against the wall. There were only a few things they could be: a political endorsement (which Viktoriya would never allow), credit for some kind of service done on her property, or…
He picked one up and turned it over, coming face to face with the big, bold letters.
FOR SALE BY OWNER.
Jack’s sense of the world continued to dive in an irrecoverable tailspin, and he wondered how long the dream would play out, what
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