If Walls Could Speak

(The Journal of Steve McCoy)

May 14, 1970

DAY 1

 I have recently purchased a house just outside this small nothing town named Colfax.  I make my money this way; buying, fixing up, then selling these crappy little homes.  This one even borders on a beach; it will make me good money.  The townspeople say this place is haunted by the angry ghosts of young lovers, but I’ve never been one to buy into that kind of bull.  When I was walking down the path from the road I noticed a wooden sign with white paint it said “go back”. HA!  No one ever really does that kind of crap except in the movies.   

            The house seems to have potential, but I’m not sure yet.  This is my first night here after all and I haven’t gotten a chance to look around.  From the outside I saw this eyesore of a Victorian house.  The paint is bad and the door is blue.  Blue went out before I even got in the business of real estate.  I also saw a spire looking thing protruding from the side of the house, near the second fireplace, it’s a real scab on this building, I can tell it’s going take a lot of work to fix this place up, but oh well.  I should be able to get some good money from it.  Maybe sell it to one of those artsy type writers… like I used to be.  The inside is even worse though.  This 3 bedroom 3 bath with full kitchen and loft/ attic is so dusty inside.  I spent the first two hours I was here taking white sheets off the ancient furnishings of this place, all the while hacking up a lung.  This place smells funny, not quite sure what but the stench stings my nostrils.  Something is probably dead in here somewhere.  

Another odd fact, it seems like the previous owners, obviously long ago, left without taking anything.  I have spent so much time putting these pointless knick knacks in boxes.  The least they could have done is throw this crap away before they left or died.  So in payment of this inconvenience I have chosen the master bedroom as my own.  It is the biggest and has an attached bath, good for market value.  Normally I would go back to the hotel in town but I figure, eh what the hell I paid for this place.  Why not stay here, besides I can save money if I cancel my room.          I’m not five; ghost stories about haunted houses don’t scare me. I don’t predict I will have any trouble sleeping, I’m exhausted.