ANYONE HOME?

ANYONE HOME?

She knocked again, and again.

^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^

Emma loved the country and could barely contain her excitement when she learned there was a house for sale not far from her city apartment.

“Jen, it’s only a ninety-minute drive from my home in Astoria. I’ve got to check it out.”

Jen was rarely the dreamer of the two sisters but also rarely discouraged Emma. “Okay, Em, just be careful and call when you get there.”

Emma called the number she’d seen in the ad and was told that an agent would meet her at the little cottage. “Give Mrs. Henderson about an hour. She’ll meet you in town at the little diner. You can’t miss it – or her for that matter.”

“Oh, okay but can you please describe her? I don’t want to walk up to a stranger and make a fool out of myself.”

The voice on the other end of the line said, ‘First off, the diner is green with silver trim. Not that it matters, there is only one diner in that small town. Mrs. Henderson is a bit on the plump side with graying hair that she wears in, well, I guess you could say it looks like a “Shirley Temple” style haircut. If I know Mrs. H, she’ll be wearing her usual rose-colored dress with tan shoes. As I said, you can’t miss her.”

Emma disconnected the call and packed a small bag. If all went as she hoped, she’d own the small house before the day was over. She wanted to drive around the town and walk through the country before making the long drive back to the city. Noting a small motel on the edge of town, she pulled into the parking lot.

“Well, that was easy,” she thought smiling to herself. “A nice, clean, cozy room for the night. Now, to meet Mrs. Henderson.”

She walked into the diner and realized how hungry she’d become. Not seeing Mrs. Henderson, she ordered a sandwich and a coke. When the server brought the food, she smiled and said, “Oh, you must be Emma Michaels. Mrs. Henderson left this for you.” She turned and walked back behind the counter.

“Guess in a small town like this, a stranger stands out,” she thought as she opened the envelope.

“Hello, Emma. Sorry I had to ditch our meeting at the diner, but something came up. Here’s the key and directions to the cottage. If I’m not there in an hour, please feel free to make yourself at home. I’ll call you. Mrs. H.”

“Okay, then,” Emma thought as she finished her lunch.

Paying the bill, the server said, “Good luck, Ms. Michaels.”

Emma said thank you and then, wondered why the woman would wish her luck. Did she know where Emma was going? “Probably, after all, Mrs. Henderson is a realtor. Right?”

She began to worry but tried to shake off her jitters. “The drive is only about thirty-minutes from here. It’s not dark outside, so I shouldn’t have any problems. Right?” she thought, trying to reassure herself.

Before getting in her car, she called her sister, but the call went directly to voicemail. “Hi Jen. Well, I arrived safely in Hillside Cove. The town is ever-so small but it’s cozy. I like it. I’m heading to the cottage now. I’ll call once I get there. Love you.” She disconnected the call and entered her car.

The directions were easy to follow, and she began to wish the drive wasn’t so short. The countryside was beautiful and so peaceful. She longed to see what she hoped would be her new home.

Within the next ten minutes, there right before her eyes was a small wood-framed house surrounded by decorative rocks and flowers. “If the inside is as beautiful as the outside, it’s a done deal!”

She knocked on the door and called out, “Mrs. Henderson. Hello? Anyone home?”

There was no answer.

“Well, that’s strange,” she thought as she turned the key and opened the door. No one was around and she wondered why anyone would leave such a small house in the middle of nowhere so unattended.

Small was not an exaggeration! The little house had only one room. It was more like a cabin instead of a house and she wondered if she’d made a mistake in agreeing to seeing it. “Not much room to do much of anything: one room for the kitchen and dining area that joined living room; a small bedroom and bath combination; a fireplace which adds to the charm, but I don’t see any electric.” The small oil lamp was the only illumination she saw and took note that it had been left lit.

Emma decided the cabin was much too rustic and small and not quite what she wanted and decided to head back to town. She tried to call Mrs. Henderson but noticed she had no cell service.

“Bummer! I’ll just call her from town.”

She walked to the door, but it wouldn’t open. She yanked. She pulled, She pushed. It wouldn’t budge. She tried the window – the ONLY window. It wouldn’t open. She picked up a chair and smacked it against the glass. It didn’t shatter as she had hoped.

“What the hell?” she thought.

Emma screamed, “THIS ISN’T FUNNY! LET ME OUT!” Still, it seemed as though she remained a prisoner in the tiny cottage.

An hour passed and Mrs. Henderson didn’t arrive. Two hours passed. Still no Mrs. Henderson.

Although she had no cell service, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. She pressed the accept call button and all but screamed, “HELP! I’M TRAPPED. PLEASE HELP!”

But the message she heard was as mysterious as the cottage.

“Enjoy your stay, dear. I did.”