Part 2/3 is here, my loves! Also, our lovely Beth Arnold has created a blog to showcase all of her talents: writing, art, photography, the works! Check it out:
http://bethingtonqjones.blogspot.com/
That’s how it began. Luckily, Dutch talked the old couple who owned the godforsaken house into giving it to them for next to nothing. Dutch was always a little too good at talking people into things, but for whatever reason Mr. and Mrs. BonHeight were pretty eager about the transaction. The only thing they were firm about was that Beau and Dutch take it as-is and that there would be no refunds. Maybe they were just as thrilled about owning the place as Beau was. Beau had thought that the idea would eventually grow on him, but it turned out he grew to dislike it more and more with time. What really threw him over the edge was finally seeing the inside of the place. It would have fit perfectly as a set for an Alfred Hitchcock picture. The BonHeights had left the house full of old furniture and pictures. It had been vacant for a while and everything inside was covered in a thick layer of dust. Some neighborhood kids seemed to have gotten inside at some point, broken all the mirrors in the house and written foreboding messages like, “Get out,” “Help me” and “Die.” Beau was not amused. The sight of dead mice and bugs was also definitely unsettling. But Dutch seemed determined as ever. So determined in fact, that he thought they should move in and dedicate day and night to getting the place ready. The first night in was a little shaky.
“If you’re making me live in this rotting stink-hole then at the very least I will get the master bedroom.” Beau declared standing in the hallway, blocking the door. There were three bedrooms; the master, one for a little boy and one for a little girl.
Dutch thought about it for a moment, “That’s fine. I don’t want to sleep in the room Olivia was murdered in anyway.” Beau narrowed his eyes, “Someone died in my bedroom?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Who really knows?” Dutch shrugged innocently. Beau groaned and stepped aside. Dutch chuckled and squeezed past him, claiming the master bedroom as his own. Beau would just sleep in one of the others. He peeked first into the little girl’s room. It was filled with dolls and stuffed animals. He decided he was much too much of a man to accept such a room, and proudly claimed the baseball themed bedroom next door. Beau laid out his sleeping bag over the linens that still covered the small twin sized bed. He thought Dutch was crazy for sleeping in the old sheets in blankets. Who knew what was crawling around in them? He shuddered to himself. He walked back to the door and shut it. It was eleven o’clock at night and he was tired. They had been gathering supplies all day and Dutch expected them to get up bright and early to start getting the place ready. He lay down in bed, zipped up his sleeping bag and turned off the lamp beside him. He began thinking about what they were getting themselves into this time. Sometimes he was sure Dutch was out of his mind. But he was his best friend and he had no idea where he’d be without him. Maybe in a couple years they’d actually stop all this fooling around and get real jobs. Somewhere in the middle of all his thinking, Beau fell asleep.
When the door slammed downstairs, he jolted upward. He tried to stand up, but ended up getting caught in his sleeping bag and falling to the ground. Suddenly his door flew open and Dutch was standing in his doorway.
“For Pete’s sake, get off the ground. What’s the matter with you? Those kids are back in the house!” Beau unzipped himself and stood up. Dutch was already gone. He raced downstairs to meet him. Dutch already had all the lights on and was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking stumped.
“Where are they?” Beau asked, ready for a fight.
“There’s nobody here.” Dutch furrowed his brow.
“Stop messin' with me.”
“There's nobody here, Beau!” Beau walked over to back door and turned the knob, it was locked. He went into the living room and tried the front door, but that one was locked too. As Beau checked the doors, Dutch began checking the windows, but they were all securely locked.
“Someone had to have been here.” Dutch muttered, talking more to himself than his partner in crime. Beau stood in the middle of the floor. He knew for sure he had heard a door slam. He couldn’t handle the maddening thoughts. He closed his eyes and decided not to believe it.
“It’s windy outside. Maybe a branch fell on the roof and we just let our minds get away with us.” He said, trying to convince himself as much as he was Dutch.
He faked a yawn and started inching towards the stairs. Hoping Dutch would get the picture. Dutch was silent for a moment but nodded. That was enough for Beau. He turned around and marched right up the stairs where he found and welcomed his bed warmly. Dutch stayed downstairs to turn off all the lights. Before he headed up to his own bed, he stared into the darkness, as if waiting to see something. After a minute, he gave up and cautiously ventured the stairs. Dutch was now also starting to wonder what he’d gotten them into. As he closed his door he wondered nervously whether or not he should tell Beau that he was not the one who turned on all the lights.
http://bethingtonqjones.blogspot.com/
The Final Misadventure of Beau and Dutch: Part 2
by Beth Arnold
That’s how it began. Luckily, Dutch talked the old couple who owned the godforsaken house into giving it to them for next to nothing. Dutch was always a little too good at talking people into things, but for whatever reason Mr. and Mrs. BonHeight were pretty eager about the transaction. The only thing they were firm about was that Beau and Dutch take it as-is and that there would be no refunds. Maybe they were just as thrilled about owning the place as Beau was. Beau had thought that the idea would eventually grow on him, but it turned out he grew to dislike it more and more with time. What really threw him over the edge was finally seeing the inside of the place. It would have fit perfectly as a set for an Alfred Hitchcock picture. The BonHeights had left the house full of old furniture and pictures. It had been vacant for a while and everything inside was covered in a thick layer of dust. Some neighborhood kids seemed to have gotten inside at some point, broken all the mirrors in the house and written foreboding messages like, “Get out,” “Help me” and “Die.” Beau was not amused. The sight of dead mice and bugs was also definitely unsettling. But Dutch seemed determined as ever. So determined in fact, that he thought they should move in and dedicate day and night to getting the place ready. The first night in was a little shaky.
“If you’re making me live in this rotting stink-hole then at the very least I will get the master bedroom.” Beau declared standing in the hallway, blocking the door. There were three bedrooms; the master, one for a little boy and one for a little girl.
Dutch thought about it for a moment, “That’s fine. I don’t want to sleep in the room Olivia was murdered in anyway.” Beau narrowed his eyes, “Someone died in my bedroom?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Who really knows?” Dutch shrugged innocently. Beau groaned and stepped aside. Dutch chuckled and squeezed past him, claiming the master bedroom as his own. Beau would just sleep in one of the others. He peeked first into the little girl’s room. It was filled with dolls and stuffed animals. He decided he was much too much of a man to accept such a room, and proudly claimed the baseball themed bedroom next door. Beau laid out his sleeping bag over the linens that still covered the small twin sized bed. He thought Dutch was crazy for sleeping in the old sheets in blankets. Who knew what was crawling around in them? He shuddered to himself. He walked back to the door and shut it. It was eleven o’clock at night and he was tired. They had been gathering supplies all day and Dutch expected them to get up bright and early to start getting the place ready. He lay down in bed, zipped up his sleeping bag and turned off the lamp beside him. He began thinking about what they were getting themselves into this time. Sometimes he was sure Dutch was out of his mind. But he was his best friend and he had no idea where he’d be without him. Maybe in a couple years they’d actually stop all this fooling around and get real jobs. Somewhere in the middle of all his thinking, Beau fell asleep.
When the door slammed downstairs, he jolted upward. He tried to stand up, but ended up getting caught in his sleeping bag and falling to the ground. Suddenly his door flew open and Dutch was standing in his doorway.
“For Pete’s sake, get off the ground. What’s the matter with you? Those kids are back in the house!” Beau unzipped himself and stood up. Dutch was already gone. He raced downstairs to meet him. Dutch already had all the lights on and was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking stumped.
“Where are they?” Beau asked, ready for a fight.
“There’s nobody here.” Dutch furrowed his brow.
“Stop messin' with me.”
“There's nobody here, Beau!” Beau walked over to back door and turned the knob, it was locked. He went into the living room and tried the front door, but that one was locked too. As Beau checked the doors, Dutch began checking the windows, but they were all securely locked.
“Someone had to have been here.” Dutch muttered, talking more to himself than his partner in crime. Beau stood in the middle of the floor. He knew for sure he had heard a door slam. He couldn’t handle the maddening thoughts. He closed his eyes and decided not to believe it.
“It’s windy outside. Maybe a branch fell on the roof and we just let our minds get away with us.” He said, trying to convince himself as much as he was Dutch.
He faked a yawn and started inching towards the stairs. Hoping Dutch would get the picture. Dutch was silent for a moment but nodded. That was enough for Beau. He turned around and marched right up the stairs where he found and welcomed his bed warmly. Dutch stayed downstairs to turn off all the lights. Before he headed up to his own bed, he stared into the darkness, as if waiting to see something. After a minute, he gave up and cautiously ventured the stairs. Dutch was now also starting to wonder what he’d gotten them into. As he closed his door he wondered nervously whether or not he should tell Beau that he was not the one who turned on all the lights.
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Oh, snap! Stay tuned Friday for the climactic conclusion of "The Final Misadventure of Beau and Dutch!"
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