manifesting

Laurie tapped her foot impatiently as she waited outside her car for the Hutchinsons to show. An older couple, they were late every time--and this was the seventh house she'd shown them.

She heard a dull click and looked in time to see the door of the old brick Foursquare sweep slowly open. She looked down at the stack of MLS listings she had printed out. This one was on top: 789 Gopher Lane. The listing agent's description was meager; she'd heard throught the grapevine that he hadn't gotten much help from the sellers. Apparently they'd packed up and left the house a mess -- hadn't even taken half their furniture.

From the outside, at least, Laurie thought the asking price seemed a little low. She wondered what kind of shape the inside was in.

"Hey." Laurie was startled. A man was standing next to her car. Unshaven, in his robe -- then she noticed the gate behind him was open. A neighbor, she thought.

"Hello--"

"You looking to buy this house?" he gestured.

"No. I'm a realtor."

He grunted, unimpressed.

"Have you ever been in there?" she asked, looking back towards the house. The front door was closed again.

"Ha!" he said.

She looked back at him. "What 'ha'?"

"No one on this street would set foot in that house. Not after Chet Davies killed hisself in the shed."

"Oh my god. When did that happen?" She looked at the MLS again. Potential buyers would have to be told. No wonder this place was so cheap.

"Mmm-hmm," he nodded. "Hanged hisself from a rafter." With that news delivered, the man cocked his head to the side and looked at Laurie thoughtfully.

Then he picked up his newspaper and walked back through his front gate, leaving Laurie alone on the redbud-lined street. No one else was out; the Hutchinsons were ever later. Laurie got back into her car to wait.

After 15 minutes and two unanswered calls to the Hutchinsons, she decided to check out the house, curiosity beating out superstition because it was daytime and it was looking more and more like the Hutchinsons weren't going to show and she didn't want to have driven all the way out here for nothing.

She punched the security code into the lock box to retrieve the housekey, but the door fell open before she could finish. Apparently it hadn't been closed properly, and it actually had blown open earlier, and been blown almost closed again.

Inside the front hallway she ran into Sylvia Hutchinson, who had a look of sheer terror on her face.

"He's -- he's --"

"What?"

"He's got Hal!" she screamed and ran for the open door behind Laurie, which slammed on her fingers. She wailed in pain and Laurie tried to get it open but to no avail. She turned to find a window and saw the hallway table tremor as though in an earthquake. Suddenly, the air in front of Laurie's face seemed to solidify and shimmer.

My house, both women heard. Myyy housssse.

Laurie woke up screaming. Her cell phone beeped: one missed call. She was late for her appointment with the Hutchinsons. She played the message as she pulled out of her driveway.

"Laurie? Oh, hi. This is Sylvia Hutchins and we're at that place on Gopher. It's about 9:15. We just noticed that the door is actually open just a crack. I think it's vacant, so we're gonna just go ahead and take a peek. We'll be inside when you get here, dear!"