Home To Evil

In the hood, catercorner from us, sits a house that has for over sixty years nourished evil. As a kid playing in the hood, the house had stayed silent, as if who ever lived there, didn't live there but someplace else. I've never seen, as a kid, anyone enter or exit for over thirty years and then it became a rental, as if the owner, who ever they were, had died and was absorbed into the house. But as a rental it has housed one criminal after another. 

Three times now, sharp shooters came with flak jackets, armor, high power rifles, dogs and assorted police cars from city, county and state. People removed in cuffs, after spread out on the sidewalk with rifles pointed at their heads. Women screaming for help, cars hidden in the garage with barricades in place. Just plain creepy.

And it's creeps that live there now. They never leave, food is brought in by delivery from pizzas to Chinese daily. There is a big black dog that has a ferocious bark that is kept inside. The occupant, like the occupants before, has black hair. Coal black and thick with a pale face. Sun is something these people seem to abhor. Then there is the strange people who visit, sometimes for an hour or two, others for days on end and if they do leave, you never see them leave. Just others arrive.

I'm expecting the cops to arrive any day now. Slow like, with their patrol cars parked down the street and them sneaking up to the house like what's done in the past. Once I asked a cop with guns strap to his side, flap jacket on who was crouched outside the door of our house, "Is there a problem?" his answer, "No problem at all."

No problem eh, well the postman doesn't come wearing a flap jacket and guns. The people walking their dogs don't have rifles, at least not at the moment they don't.

So I'm waiting, for the house to disgorge who ever is in there now, once the cops come of course and I suspect that will be any day now.