Our Upstairs Neighbor

It was early October 1965 when old Mr. Cranston moved into our attic room. I was ten years old and as I write this I’m a month short of fourteen. At first I didn’t like the old man and I’m not sure why. He seemed friendly and moved in with just a suitcase tied shut with twine. I hoped he would be a tenant quick to move on. The thought made me feel selfish because I knew my Mom counted on that small rent. It’s what keeps us under roof Corey.

Getting back to Mr. Cranston; he was tall, thin and had thick grey hair that he never seemed to comb. He walked stooped and with a cane but never complained about the two flights of stairs he had to climb to make it to his room.A short journey that took him forever. Every other step would be followed by a loud tap from the cane. His room by the way was directly over mine.  I wouldn’t have cared except that he seemed to never sleep and paced back and forth for hours mumbling and whispering. There was no phone in that room and I thought he was crazy or the kind of crazy my aunt Edna got to be when she was old. Sitting on her porch talking about iced tea and catching frogs. I laughed once and Mom thumped me behind the ear and frowned.

The second Saturday after the old man moved in I woke up extra early to cut the lawn so as to cut up the fallen leaves and pile straw over Mom’s flower beds. Their winter blanket. She had said. I hurried my only two chores of the day, ran in to say goodbye to Mom and ran to the shed for my bike. It was a trail bike and so I would cut through the woods to my friends place where we would probably spend most of the day on our bikes.

Halfway to Paul’s house I spotted Mr. Cranston standing in a small clearing and waving his arms in small circles. The trees around him swayed in a wind that was not effecting the trees near me.

Suddenly he turned, spotted me and walked into the woods out of my sight. He was crazy .Maybe real crazy. I think I may have even waved to him but I’m sure it wasn’t returned. I went ahead to Paul’s and put the strange incident out of mind. At least for a while..

That night was the same as always, Mom made dinner and we talked about our day. She had worked an extra hour and said that hour was for my movie money. We both smiled and I thought I really needed to help out more. But what’s a ten year old really gonna do? Mr. Cranston never came down for dinner but his constant pacing and tapping went on and on throughout the evening. After watching an old movie, that made my mom cry for some reason, I said goodnight and left for my room.

After brushing my teeth I got into bed and listened to the routine, nightly movements of Mr. Cranston as he walked and paced and talked and whispered until I thought I would go nuts. Then I heard him open his window and the October winds howled in; filled the attic and then crept down the stairs and under my door. I imagined Mr. Cranston, all in black, standing in the darkest corner of my room. He started to speak to me but I only heard it in my mind. Just inside my head like when you are thinking to yourself. It sounded like: I need you to help me with a job Corey. One I’m afraid I’ve grown too old to do myself. When your mother leaves tomorrow wake me. You’ll have to knock hard at my door.

Then it stopped, all but the cold, swirling wind. A loud creak of old wood against old wood sounded as Mr. Cranston’s window pulled shut and then all was quiet. I pulled the covers over my head knowing I had heard nothing but wind. Knowing I had heard nothing but wind let me fall asleep.And I did sleep but dreamed of men who could travel in the wind like dry leaves. If they could do that what else could they do? What else would they do? In my most vivid dream that night a dark clad man chased me through the woods and brambles, Always just one step away.

Then I was on my bike pedaling as hard as I could while the bike slowly fell apart and a shadow fell over me...

I woke up thinking about the crazy dreams and laughed out loud at myself. It was Saturday morning and Mom had left for work but had my pancakes and bacon on the table. She also had left a note-Corey, I may have to work a little late so I made you a sack lunch and the spaghetti from last night can be heated. Love you and BE CAREFUL WITH THE STOVE. Love Mom. Still she thought I was a baby. Oh well. She was a good mom and even let me join the hardball team when I was sure she would say no.

Suddenly my mind switched gears again and I thought of Mr. Cranston. Of course he never came to my room and would probably holler at me if I went up to wake him. I ate fast and thought to be on the safe side I would go up, wake him and if he got angry I would say I thought he might be hungry and apologize.That seemed dumb the more I thought about it and so I just got up to get it over with.

I ran up the steps two at a time and paused a few seconds outside the old mans room and knocked hard three times. No answer. I repeated the knocking.

“ What! Who is out there?”

I cleared my throat and said,” Just me Mr. Cranston.Corey. Thought you may want some breakfast.”

“ Corey? Oh Corey good. You remembered. I’ll be right down.” Just like that he said it like it was the most natural thing in the world that he just floated on the wind into my room. I ran down to wait in the kitchen.It wasn’t long before I heard the shuffle and tapping of his slow  decent down the stairs.When he made it into the kitchen he was all smiles and had a snow white owl on his shoulder.

“ Thank you for remembering our appointment. Oh, and this is Job. Like from the Bible. This is his time for sleep as it is mine but when I’m up so is Job. The job I have for you is top secret and of course I’ll pay you well for your time and labor.”

“ What is the job sir?”

“ Well Corey,as you can plainly see looking at me, I’m quite old. And with that comes this ache and that cough and so on and so on.But, fortunately for me I have a cure but to achieve it I will need your assistance.  In the cellar your mother graciously allowed me to store a rather large box. I need your help to drag the box from the cellar and bury it”

“ Bury the box?” I tried to imagine what was in the box and started to get nervous. Almost as if he read my mind Mr. Cranston laughed and the owl Job hooted.

“ I can assure you there is no body in the box or anything to fear. In fact it is fairly light and you may examine its interior.”

“ O.K. sure. I guess we can bury it behind the old fish pond.”

“ Splendid. I think we should start at once.” Job nodded his head as if in agreement. Maybe he was.

It only took about ten minutes to drag the dusty box up the concrete steps and into the side yard. I opened it and it was empty except for a heavy, black wool blanket. I touched it and looked at Mr. Cranston who was smiling. “ Like the straw over your mothers flower beds that is my winter blanket. Mine and Job’s of course.

Reminding me to find two good shovels Mr. Cranston and I started pulling the old box to the old fish pond that now was just a muddy depression with reeds and an occasional frog. Finally the old man picked the ‘ perfect place’  and we began to dig. “ Just the depth of the box and a few extra inches is all we need Corey.”

The digging was easy and soon we had what looked like a shallow grave. Mr. Cranston seemed happy with our accomplishment and motioned me to him. He whispered as he put a small cloth bag in my hand.” A worker is worth his wages. These are for you.Now for the part of this only the bravest of boys can do. Job and myself are going into the box. You will attach the lid and cover the box with the dirt we have just extavated.”

“ Sir, I can’t do that. It’s murder.” I felt I should run and get help. A crazy old man wanted me to bury him...and his pet owl. When I looked over to protest again Mr. Cranston was hovering some three feet off the ground and smiling.

“ Corey, you know I’m different. Different from you and not to do as I say would be murder. You have seen a decade. I have seen a thousand and one years. My wife is in Italy. She is covered as I need to be. In three years uncover me. I have left a note for your dear mother and let her know I said goodbye as well.. Three years Corey.” He climbed into that box and lay perfectly still as Job joined him and I closed the lid. Somehow I knew that this was what he had to have and so I shoveled the dirt and when finished ran to the house for a bath.

I sat in the hot sudsy water until it began to cool and still I felt dirty. Had I just killed someone or saved them? I dressed quickly remembering the note the old man had left. Better I read it first.

It sat on the kitchen table in front of my mother's chair. A small cloth bag exactly like the one given me sat on top of the folded letter.

Mrs. Winters,

Thank you for the most pleasent stay and forgive my leaving without proper notice. Some things that need my attention can not wait and so I must say goodbye. The coins in the bag are a gift for your kindness.

H. Cranston

The bags contained gold coins that at first my mother said we could not keep. A few weeks later she put practicality first and we visited a coin shop that offered us a great deal of money. We each sold one coin  and took the rest back home. Every few months we would sell another and although we continued to rent out our attic my mother quit her Saturday job and we spent those days together patching up the old place and once a month we went to the show. It was good times and I always had my eye on the calendar. Three years would come soon enough.

The three years did pass but seemed an eternity. Finally it was October 14th and time to lift the lid from the coffin shaped box. I remember Mom leaving for town and I waited a short minute to run to the shed for a shovel and without pausing headed for the old pond.

The ground where the box was buried was covered with grass and a few stray cat tails and other pond grasses. It was easy to scoop away this layer of debris and get to the soil that I was able to push away within minutes. What was left of the box lid was rotten and began to fall apart as I moved it. Just enough light fell into the box that I could make out the skeletons of Mr. Cranston and the owl. I was a murderer..

It was then that the wind began to blow causing fallen leaves to swirl around me.  There was the sound of an owl and then the laughter of Mr. Cranston. Looking up I spotted both sitting near the top of a tall Maple tree..

“ I knew I could count on you Corey. And Job wants to let you know he had his complete trust in you as well.” Mr. Cranston, now young, laughed as he watched the expression on my face. “ Yes Corey it was all real and now I’m free and will be off to free my wife. For a thousand years we will thank you my friend. A thousand years of thank yous.” The wind gusted and Mr Cranston and Job let themselves be taken into the sky. Like kites they sailed higher and then began an eastern turn. I watched until they appeared as dots in the sky and then gone. I sat down next to what had been a grave and looked in. It was just an empty hole. No bones, no box.

Walking back to the shed I realized I had a friend I would never see again. I believed he would think of me for a thousand years. Talk of me to his wife. I want to tell you again about Corey...