The Homecoming Queen.

I don’t know why my Uncle Clive left me his house in his will to me with all the trappings to go with it. My parents didn’t get on well with him and didn’t have much to say about his past life. Remembering back to my college days, being in love, taking good grades and becoming Homecoming Queen with my first real love. My father, thru his work , transferred to another State. We left, like criminals in the night, no goodbyes for my special love. I don’t see how he could ever forgive me.

A sigh of tiredness, escapes thru pursed lips as I stood before humongous inheritance. The old house was huge, shutters loose and slamming against cracked windows. The paint had seen better days and was peeling like a Beetnik’s hair, all tangled and dirty. I loved it, “Mine, all mine”, I sung to myself as I danced in a circle, skirt flaring like some Prima Dona. Standing still, hands on hips, I surveyed my domain.

Stopping my muddled thoughts was hard, slowing them down was way easier. Gathering up my two suitcases, I climbed the rickety steps, careful to step over the holes in the worn timber. As I sorted out the right key, the wind became stronger, howling around the outside of the house, acting like a pack of wolves chasing each other. I managed to fit the right key in the lock and with an unladylike grunt turned the door knob and entered the inner sanctum. Finding the long cord that was the light, I pulled it, dimly lighting up the foyer and grand staircase. “Oh my,” I whispered to myself.

The door at my back slammed shut with a loud bang that echoed thru out. In the gloomy light, I could see how much the dirt had spread itself around, like a free loader, encasing every nook and cranny. Letting my suitcases drop, I began to roam the creaking floor boards eager to see behind each door. I felt like I was on a game show and was about to pick the winning door, that would win me the big prize. What a let down, opening the first door, led to a cleaning cupboard.

Walking across the hall, I opened door number two, which seemed to lead to the kitchen. A huge table dominated the small room. Looking towards the sun streaming thru the uncurtained window, I saw one of the old fashioned tap was leaking into the rust farm sink. It annoyed me, in this silent house the drip, drip noise was loud, echoing thru the opened door. When I backed out of the kitchen, a noise caught my attention, seemingly to vibrate thru me.

A scratching sound against the foyer windows, startled me and looking up, I froze. A figure was outlined against the setting sun. Staring, I took two steps forward, determined not to give into fear. I inhaled a feeling of relief, as the figure took on a familiar appearance of a branch from the old oak tree outside. It was determined to tap across the windows until the glass would shatter into unforgiving pieces.

Through a small broken window, a ray of light pierced the gloom, carrying particles of dust, twirling around in a uniformed dance.

A rumbling noise caught my attention that had drawn up outside the house. Curious, I tugged on the old wooden door and pulled it opened. Misty light was hovering around outside, leaves thrust into the wind, twirling around, eddying in a downward motion. Looking up, I saw someone step out of the old farm truck I remembered way back. Tears glistening down my cheeks, a feeling of relief.

His tall legs encased in cowboy boots, ate up the distance as I quickly left the front porch. Jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist, I now, feel like I’ve come home, come home to my Homecoming King.