Lies, Murder, and Whispers

Jack Buttner pulled his old car up the gravely driveway. He could see, who he assumed, was the realtor waving him in. Jack exited the car and headed to meet the realtor at the front door.

"Hello there, Mr. Buttner," he said with a firm handshake. "I am John Simpson. I hope you didn't have any trouble finding this old town." John was dressed nicely as any realtor should. He had on nice pair of black dress shoes with dress pants to match. His shirt was a white under shirt covered with a black overcoat. His hair was stiff, most likely from all the hair gel, and to top it off he had a smile that could light up a dark room.

"No, it wasn't a problem."

"Very good! Follow me and we will begin the tour!" John pulled out a key from his coat pocket and opened the door with a small creak. "This door hasn't been used in quite some time. Some oil will put fix that squeak right up."

The house itself was beautiful. It was a large three story home with white paint. Even though the paint had begun to chip over the years, the house still had a natural beauty to it. Besides, with the little money I have available I can't exactly afford to be picky, Jack thought to himself. On the inside, the house was in decent enough condition. It had quite a bit of dust that needed to be cleaned and some very odd painting that needed to come down, but besides that it all looks good.

"Well, why don't we start in the kitchen? It is just over here." The kitchen floor was nothing more than some simple yellow tiling and table and counters was simple wood. The oven was silver and obviously decently old. Everything on it used some kind of knob, even the timer. "I can assure you that despite some of the appliances' age, they are all in perfect working condition, so no repairs will need to be made."

"Alright, why don't we go see the master bedroom? Follow me; it is right up the stairs." The master bedroom had a large king sized bed with a night stand directly to the left of it. The wooden floor was covered with dust and the wall paper had tears everywhere. "As you can see this room isn't in the best of shape, but it can be in easily repaired". Bad shape? You think, Sherlock? I'm beginning to understand why this place is so cheap.

The rest of the tour passed including the bathrooms, guest rooms, and a better showing and explanation of the living room on the first floor. In total, the tour only lasted around half an hour, though to Jack it felt like days passed.

"Alright, Mr. Buttner. Now that the tour is out of the way, you are free to move in. Well, Mr. Buttner that is all I have for you, I hope you enjoy your new home and city. I will get out of your hair and let you settle in," John said.

After another quick handshake and a soft slam of the front door, Jack found himself sitting on the living room couch enjoying the peace and quiet. He ran a hand through his thick black hair and released a deep exhale. Throwing his legs over so they were also on the couch and his head rested on the arm, he decided a quick nap was necessary. Unfortunately, his nap was not going to last very long.

Rapid knocking on the door roused Jack from his light nap. He rose from the couch and did a quick stretch before making his way over to the door. He swung the door open to reveal a man with dirty blond hair and green eyes greeting him.

"Hey there Jackie! Glad you decided to move here, I'm sure you will love it!" Brad Stampton said patting Jack on the back.

"Really? Still with the Jackie thing? You will never let that go will you Brad?" Brad tossed off his black jacket as both men made their way inside, a loud slam followed as Brad kicked the door closed behind them. "Watch the door man! The place is older than Hell and I don't need to spend any more money on this place than necessary."

"Alright, I'll take it easy. So, what do you think of this place?" Brad asked as Jack led him back to the couch.

"Well besides the fact that this place is as old as my grandmother, and as dirty, it is okay. Plenty of room and everything works so far. Though, I do lack a microwave."

"Yeah, tell you what, I will definitely pitch in for a microwave. I don't want you to accidently poison yourself when you try to cook a meal. I still can taste that "meat loaf" you attempted to cook, attempted being a major word here."

"That was like fifteen years ago! I was twelve and my mom decided to try and teach me to cook. It wasn't that bad." Jack muttered the last part.

"Fifteen years ago but it tastes like just fifteen minutes ago. Man even that old cat you had didn't want to eat it, and that thing ate everything that could possibly considered food. It was pretty bad."

"Alright, alright, I get it. I can't cook. At least I didn't accidently burn down my shed when I decided to try and create a Molotov cocktail because it was used in movies and therefore safe."

"My mom wanted to kill me for that. I didn't even know it was possible for someone's face to turn that red. Man, looking back we did some really stupid shit. Why exactly did we stop again?"

"I had to move to some private school out of state to receive the best possible education. Well, at least that is what my mom said. I think it has more to do with the fact that she thought you were a horrible influence on me. Which, by the way, she was completely correct on that point."

"Yes, I am completely aware of your mother's eternal and everlasting hatred for me. But, come on, was I really that bad?"

"Yes, yes you were. I believe it was you who decided it would be fun to try and build a raft to travel down the river with. I got so sick from that. Also, you were the one who thought it would be a great idea to take Mr. Tims' riding mower out for a ride. I got grounded for a month for that one. Oh, and it was you who…"

"I think I get the point," Brad interrupted. "I was the worst person you could have possibly decided to hang around with. Yet, who is worse? The one that came up with the ideas, or the one who went along and agreed with them? That, my dear friend, is the question. Besides, it is because of me that you left your little awkward and lonely shell."

"Haha," Jack said rising from his seat on the couch. "I was perfectly content to read my books. I believe that is the reason we met in the first place. You were struggling with school and decided I was a smart, little nerd and you could get me to teach you. By the way, I have never met anyone to this day as bad at math as you were."

"Some of us had social lives to attend to."

"Oh, you mean running around and vandalizing the neighborhood. Quite the social life you had."

"I know right? Oh, the good old days. But enough reminiscing, how have you been?"

"I have been pretty good. Unfortunately, as you are aware, I recently got laid off of my job and I had to move somewhere much cheaper where I can actually find a job. Speaking of jobs, do you know any good place to look for one around here?"

"I would try old Mr. Snider. He is always looking for some farm hands to help around his farm."

"A farm? I am not sure if you remember but physical strength has never exactly been my strong point."

"I used to work there for a while, it really isn't that bad, and Mr. Snider is a pretty cool, chilled back guy. Not to mention he always makes a great lunch for the workers, and no one can cook as well as Mr. Snider. Not to mention, I can put in a good word for you and you will have the job no problem."

"Guess I don't have much of a choice. I will stop by and talk to Mr. Snider later. What about you? What have you been doing these past years?"

"I have been great! I have been living here for about ten years now and it has been great. The community is small enough where everyone knows everyone, but not small enough to be boring. I started my own business as a mechanic which is going pretty good."

"Your own business? Who did you hire to do all the accounting? Please tell me you don't do it yourself. If you math skills are still as bad as I remember, it would be a complete disaster if you were doing the accounting."

"Yeah, that wouldn't end well. I hired some kid who can do mental math in like ten seconds. I don't really talk to him though, so I don't remember his name off the top of my head. But he reminds me a lot of you. Both of you are nerds, you both have no lives, and you both are pretty ugly."

Jack threw a playful punch to Brad's shoulder. "Thanks a lot. Glad to know you think so highly of me."

"You are welcome. Oh, you might as well as sell the car if you plan on living here for a while. The town is so small people just walk everywhere. The nearest gas station is fifty miles away."

"Thanks for the heads up, I will probably go fill the old thing up and grab some fuel to go with me."

"No problem. Well, I have wasted enough time here; I got to get heading back to work. I will stop by when I get some free time to give you the grand tour of this little place. I'll see you around." Brad rose from the couch and gave Jack another pat on the back before making his way out the door. Jack just sat there for a while, enjoying the relaxing silence only a small town can have.

After a few minutes of peacefully resting, Jack rose once again from the couch and made his way outside to the car. In the passenger seat Jack grabbed a black bag and quickly made his way inside. Taking a seat back on the couch, he opened the bag and pulled out his laptop, opening up Microsoft Word. From there he opened a familiar save, the girl in his dreams. Alright, maybe I can finally get this damn story started. Jack stared at the screen, his fingers refusing to move from their position. His brain denying him the words he so desperately wanted. Why can't I write this? I have had this idea for months now and I cannot even start it. After staring at the blank document for a little less than an hour, Jack finally gave a sigh of defeat and powered down the laptop.

A glance out the window told him it was beginning to get late. The sun was set and the moon was beginning its rise into the cool night air; stars helping the moon illuminate the cloudless sky. Jack made his way up the stairs to the master bed room. He flopped down on the bed and allowed sleep to overcome his tired body.