One Gray House

"A dystopian future is looming"

During my studies at the University of Washington I took a class on Russian Folk Tales taught by Professor Jack Haney. He was great and the subject was great and everything was great and I still have a book of Russian Folk tales next to my bed. Occasionally I pick it up and randomly read one.

Usually there are animals. Sometimes there is marriage. Often there is a grisly murder. Sometimes there is a twist. Often the hero is referred to as an idiot but somehow prevails. The’re fun. If you don’t know folktales kind of run in parallel. For instance, if you pick a Grimm’s fairy tale - chances are there is a nearly identical Russian fairy tale. Slightly different, but identifiable as the same story. It just takes some patience to find it.

If you’ve read some of my short stories you may recognize their influence. Yup, I like their flow and I like the dark twists. I also like that they don’t get all caught up in scientific details. They’re stories. Perhaps made up on the fly and then passed on.

I wrote One Gray House after going on a walk with Katie and noticing an old house down the street with a bunch of stuffed animals in the window.

Like most things I write… I write it, do a quick and not so thorough grammar check and leave it alone. I prefer to try to keep the original flow.

I had a friend that lived across the street from the house. I let her read the story. She told me a few months later that she still couldn’t look at those stuffed animals the same way. I’m so sorry JS!!!!

ONE GRAY HOUSE

During the day, her house appears to be a very light gray. Ashen might be a good word for it, somehow wicked looking. On nights with little to no moon, it appears to be nearly black. With the full moon, it seems a stark white. Her house is ringed with window boxes, immaculately clean. She lives on the southeast corner of the block so both the north and west sides are visible to the street. The west side has two window boxes. One near the front of the house, presumably attached to the living room. The second is to the back, smaller and higher, most likely for the kitchen. The front door of the house faces the north. To the right of the front door is one giant window box, the largest of the three. A high fence comes out from the left front of the house and reaches directly out to the sidewalk. It may have a hidden gate, it’s certainly not obvious. At the back on the west side is the driveway, which leads to a partially connected garage, gated.I would guess there are window boxes on the east side, but I can not be sure. It’s not visible from the street.

She lives in a small town, but she has somehow avoided the prying eyes of her neighbors – they do not know her well. They do know that each window box is filled with an assortment of teddy bears. Each one cuter than the next, as my wife likes to say. Several neighbors cross her path regularly, but no one has been successful at getting more than a curt nod to their hellos. She appears to be an older woman at first. Her hair, like her house, ranges in color from white to black depending on the state of the sun and moon. She has a wizened look to her face, but if you look closely, her face is smooth and clear with none of the wrinkles you might expect. She is typically adorned in loose fitting clothing that shimmers, much like the crisp white rapids of a mountain stream.
No one has seen her with anyone else. No partner, no pets. Her only company seems to be the teddy bears in the windows.

She has no visible source of income. She walks to the small local grocery store and frequents the weekly farmer’s market. She always pays cash. The vendors recognize her, but do not know her by name. Nor does she seem to have a car, bike or any other transport. No one has ever seen the garage open and no taxi has ever come to her door. Some neighbors claim to have seen a cat in her yard. But the reports are inconsistent. Some claim it is a tabby, others say black. They do, however, all say it has a long tail and that is not theirs. I have not seen it.
I do not believe in the supernatural, magic or other sundries. I’m not even particularly religious, but I do know that we, as humans, are not capable of explaining everything. Our knowledge is continually growing in the areas of science and psychology. Our civilizations shift through time with a constant change of focus. All of this is well and good, but in the case of Ms. Gray (as I often call her) there seems to be an exception to normal existence. As much as everyone likes to speak of thinking outside of the box. I think Ms. Gray is actually living outside society’s box. Completely outside.

Two weeks ago I was walking by her home with my wife, admiring her selection of teddy bears in the front window. There were three browns of various sizes, as well as a black, tan and, one that caught my eye, in green overalls. Irish? I wasn’t sure. Just as I was about to look away a heard a crow squawk from her roof. I looked up and saw Ms. Gray through an upstairs window, clad in her usual fashion. I saw her just a moment and – gone. It was brief enough I was not sure if I really did see her. I asked my wife. She just looked at me, then looked up at the window I pointed to. She could only comment on how she’d never noticed that there is a second story to the house. She then suggested that perhaps Ms. Gray had just stepped to the side. This seemed reasonable so I didn’t pursue the matter.

But it bugged me still.

The next day I walked by and there was a new yellow teddy bear in the window. It was sitting next to the Irish bear, which looked quite dirty next to this new one. It’s amazing how a little contrast will affect your perception of things. I had thought the Irish bear was quite spiffy the day before.

I stood looking at this new bear for several moments. It was large, with short hair and a bow on its head. As if it were in its hair. No telling people’s taste, I guess. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed to me one of the other bears was now missing. As I stood there, developing conspiracy theories around Ms. Gray’s teddy bears, an older gentleman approached, “Quite an impressive set o’ bears, eh?” he said.

“Oh yeah, you live around here?”

“Sure do”

“Do you know where Ms. Gray gets them? There are no shops in town that sell this sort of thing and I’ve never noticed her leaving town”

“Well,” he said “she might get her new ones on that internet thing, I guess. Personally I think she has a big collection stashed away inside and just swaps them out. Hard to say though, she’s a bit mysterious. What did you say her name was?”

“Oh,” I chuckle a bit, “I call her Ms. Gray because of her house and clothes. I don’t know her real name.”

“Yeah, I’ve tried to speak to her a few times but haven’t gotten her name either. I like the idea of calling her Ms. Gray. It fits. I’m Ben.” and he extended his hand in greeting.

I took his hand – a firm weathered grip, “I’m Joe, interesting lady.”

“Yup, sure is. Eccentric maybe, but at least she keeps her house in order.”
This comment caused me to give Ben a funny look. I then noticed that not only was he bald, but he didn’t seem to have eyebrows, or arm hair, or any hair at all. Don’t see that too often.

He just smiled at me, “See you around, Joe.” and he walked off and through the gate of the house to the east of Ms. Grays. Wow. Her own neighbor hardly knows a thing about her.

That night at home I was still thinking about those darned bears. Maybe I could find where she got that new yellow teddy bear with a quick online search? I’m no slouch at searching online, mind you, but hours passed and I still had nothing. I found a whole lot of teddy bears, but nothing like the large yellow bear. I tried for the green one. I searched “irish green overalls” and had no bears but one headline did jump out at me.

“Man in overalls missing since St. Patrick’s Day.” I clicked the link to learn that this Irish fellow had been properly celebrating St. Patty’s Day in the town next to us, but had disappeared after an evening of drinking. They had found his car, but there was no sign of the man. According to folks he knew, he was of the reliable sort, well meaning and all, just prone to drink when there was an excuse.

The article was accompanied by a photo of the man’s wife. She was teary eyed, pleading for help to find her husband. There was a group of onlookers behind her, all with concerned looks on their faces. As I scanned their faces I noticed the deep gaze of one face in the back, Ms. Gray! Or at least it could be her. The picture was a bit fuzzy. But yes, it had to be her. I didn’t think she ever went anywhere. I called my wife over and asked if it looked like Ms. Gray to her.

“Sure, could be. Why? Did you know that guy?

“No, just poking around. I didn’t realize she ever got of town.”

“So what, people have the right to live, you know.” My wife is always full of words of wisdom.

Still curious, I then searched on “missing, yellow, shirt”. Most results were crap – topless folks holding their yellow shirts and the like. The only thing I could find of interest was about a young girl from back east that had disappeared two days ago. But that was a long ways away.

The next day I made it a point to walk by Ms. Gray’s house. I took my camera and snapped a few photos of that front window so I could look at each bear individually later. She hadn’t changed any of the bears from the day before. I did notice that a couple of them were looking a bit haggard. And the Irish bear, I’d swear it was somehow thinner. As I left I noticed Ben watching me from his front yard. “You seem pretty curious about those bears.”

“Yup, it’s quite a collection. They must be pretty rare, some of them.” We chatted a bit more and parted. I was a bit anxious to do some more bear follow up.

At home I loaded my images and checked them very closely. The four other bears looked quite unremarkable. I was hoping to find something to search on… I zoomed a bit and finally noticed that the third one from the left has earrings. Dragonfly earrings. Well I’ll be. And with pierced ears to boot. That’s pretty darned unusual.

My Google search brought back instant results. Missing since 2/15, young blond woman, mid twenties, brown top, dragonfly earrings. Wow. What is this? Surely I am crazy. I compared their two images side by side. Certainly, maybe… you know how owners will sometimes end up looking like their pets? Well, the similarity was a bit like that. And the earrings were exactly the same.

I checked Ms. Gray’s house every day for the next week. Bears would disappear one day – a new one would appear the next – and then again the next. And finally dragonfly girl disappeared. Ben saw me staring at the window the day dragonfly bear disappeared.  “What’s Up Joe?”

“It’s just odd how she rotates them. She just rotated out one that had dragonfly earrings. Ever hear of a bear with earrings? I searched online and could only find an article on a missing girl with dragonfly earrings. And that green one in overalls disappeared the other day too. Did you know there was a guy from the next town that disappeared St. Patrick’s day in green overalls?”
Ben looked thoughtful for a minute. “Well, that is odd. Could be a coincidence, or maybe she sees those news articles and dresses the bears up to honor them. She’s always struck me as a kind soul, despite being a bit aloof.”

“Hey, that could be. If that’s true that’s really quite a nice story to tell and share. And here I was thinking something sinister was up…” and then the thought occurred to me. “Hey Ben, you are her neighbor, does she have window boxes with bears on the other side too?”

“What’s that?” and a moment’s pause, “Oh yeah, she does. Come on back if you want. Though at some point she’s going to notice you spying on her all the time.” We cut through Ben’s overgrown side yard and through a side gate to get to his backyard. An immaculate Adirondack style chair sat in the middle of the lawn facing Ms. Gray’s house. To its left was a large garbage can – from the looks of it for compost. “There’s her back window, see, more bears. She’s had bears as long as I can remember.”

I looked up to see four bears. Old, deflated. Maybe even rotting. There even appeared to be mold forming around the middle of one of them. Gross and surely smelly. And then I saw them, dragonfly earrings.

I looked at Ben.

He was looking at me curiously. “Sorry Joe, I rather like you.”

Apparently there is some kind of trinity within each of us. A body, a soul and a living essence. Ben took my living essence. I am not sure what he did with it. He gave the rest to Ms. Gray. I could feel the tension in the air when he handed me over. Apparently she cleans up after him, trying to make the slow end tolerable. She turned me into a nice brown Teddy Bear with inquisitive blue eyes. The view from the window box at the front of the house is really quite nice. I didn’t know this before, but you can actually see the bay. People walk by in a friendly manner. Smiles on their faces as they see me and my companions. I see my wife now and again. She gave me a look the other day and tears welled up in her eyes. I’m next to a Russian bear, for now. I think he appeared the same day dragonfly girl moved to the back. I expect he’ll be moving on pretty soon. He’s starting to smell.

©  2010 Andrew Swanson

Folktales in music:

Atarashii Gakko! is my latest music/video obsession. This one (Tokyo Calling) is particular fun for the Godzilla like set and their amazing syncopation in dance. “A dystopian future is looming” is one of the lyrics.

Pineapple Kryptonite is also fabulous.