Preface

-Alek’s POV-

No one really knows what happened to Old Man Grumpy, save that on a cheerful Tuesday ten years ago he was out watering his garden at seven thirty, same as he had done every other morning, and on the Wednesday after, which was equally just as cheerful and bright, he wasn’t there.

I remember that my mom checked it out later that day, when I finally got around to telling her that Old Man Grumpy hadn’t watered his flowers.

I’d always lean over the fence and watch him, because at the age of seven I had the creepiest interest in the elderly, and I was fascinated by his thin white hair and bent back. I’d often try and start up conversations with him, which never really got very far, because he’d never answer any of my questions.

On that Wednesday, I climbed onto the roof of our plastic playhouse and leaned over the fence, waiting for the grumpy old man to slowly walk around the side of his house, watering can in hand.

He never came.

Mildly disappointed, because I had wanted to ask him if he ever killed anyone with a rusty pole, I hopped off the playhouse, and wandered over to my best friend’s house.

The Klines have lived next door to us since we first moved in when I was three, and I’ve been fast friends with Catherine Kline ever since.

True, she was a girl, and true, she was a year younger than me, but it was either playing with her or playing with the creepy kids who lived across the street.

I rang the doorbell, and Mrs. Kline opened it, holding Cat’s youngest sister, Anna, under one arm. Anna was only two at that time, and she liked to bite my feet. I didn’t like her. She smelled funny.

“Looking for Catherine?” Mrs. Kline wondered, although she already knew the answer. I would NEVER come into a house with five young girls otherwise. Mrs. Kline always called Cat Catherine, even though Cat hated it.

“CATHERINE!” Mrs. Kline yelled, setting Anna down.

The evil two year old promptly walked over and tried to bite my foot.

I was glad that I was wearing sneakers that day.

Cat pounded down the stairs; still in her pink 101 Dalmatians nightgown. She frowned at me, and pushed Anna away. “Why are you so early?” She asked, annoyed. “You’re usually not here until eight.”

I shrugged. “Why is it pink?” I asked, looking at her nightgown. Pink was a highly offensive color to a seven year old boy like myself.

Cat looked down at the sleeve. “Mom bought it for me. Go away, Alek. I need to eat, and change and you can’t be here. Get off of him, Anna!”

Anna was trying to gnaw off my shoe.

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. “See you later.”

I walked back to my house, and jumped onto the playhouse, checking again. Old Man Grumpy still wasn’t out.

Shrugging, I went inside, where my mother fussed over me.

“Oh Alek,” she said, sitting me down and pulling off my shoes. “You shouldn’t climb up onto the playhouse, Honey. You could fall down and hurt yourself! Or you could get splinters from the fence! It’s very dangerous Honey!” She went on like this for a while, until she finally asked, “And how is Mr. Hennrison?”

That’s his real name, but only the grown ups called him that.

“He wasn’t out there,” I said, eating the scrambled eggs that she’d made for me.

“No?” Mom looked shocked. “Oh dear.”

Then she left, and I followed her out, and she went up to Old Man Grumpy’s front lawn, and onto his porch, and rang the doorbell. I could hear it even from the sidewalk. It sounded like one of those big, creepy clocks that Grandma has in her house.

No body answered, so my mom started to knock.

Cat walked up next to me, holding Sammy’s hand. Samantha Kline, who was four, was scared of everyone expect me, Cat, and her parents. She ALWAYS followed Cat around, which was annoying, because we had to wait for her to catch up and she’d never play ninjas with us.

“What’s your Mom doing?” Cat wondered, watching Mom.

I shrugged. “I dunno. Trying to get into Old Man Grumpy’s house.”

Sammy let out a cry.

“Shut up, Sammy,” Cat said, not even looking at her little sister. “Why’s she doing that?”

“Maybe he died,” I said hopefully. “He could’ve had a bunch of enemies from the war and they got lost, but they found out where he was and paid a bunch of mobsters to kill him off.”

“Maybe,” Cat said, shrugging.

Mrs. Larron, who lives on the other side of Cat, walked up with her big dog, Angel. “What’s your mother doing, Alek?” She asked, pausing.

Sammy hid behind Cat, but we petted the dog, which was almost as big as I was, and let him lick our faces.

“Old Man Grumpy didn’t come out this morning,” I said, wishing that I had a dog. Mom’s scared of dogs because she thinks one will bite me, so we can’t get one. Not even a little dog, or a puppy.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Larron said, walking up towards the front door of Old Man Grumpy’s ancient house.

Cat and I got bored, so we went off to have a sea battle between the Undead Pirates and the Killer Zombie Sharks in the stupid little kid pool in her backyard, but I remember that no one knew what happened to Old Man Grumpy.

An ambulance and some awesome police officers came to check it out, but they didn’t carry a body out or anything.

He was just gone.

So, remind me again why I’m remembering some dumb old man?

It MIGHT be because his old house is finally for sale. Well, no. That’s dumb. It’s been for sale for about nine years.

Maybe it’s because someone’s actually BUYING it, which is nuts. I mean, who the heck would want to buy some crummy run down house that an old guy died in?

Exactly.

----A/N: Ah! Hello! I am back, after a loooong absence from Fictionpress! Yes, I know that this story isn’t the sequel to Eagles May Soar… it is the way of life.

Well, this one goes back between Alek's and Cat’s points of view… and indeed, it DOES involve hot elves and even a bunch of punk faeries. It’s very exciting. -grins-