Break

By J.E. Munden

Whispers flow around Lazy River Townhomes about the man in G-5. He has lived there as long as anyone can remember, and to anyone’s knowledge, has not left his place or even stepped outdoors. The only thing they do know about him is that his name is Mr. Green. The mystery behind Mr. Green fuels the other tenants’ suspicion, and rumors link him to every bad event that takes place there. He has become an urban legend.

Billy, an eleven year old boy, lives across the parking lot from the old recluse. He’s heard the gossip for two years and always wondered if the rumors were true. His belief is put to the test when he is asked by his father to deliver a package they mistakenly received which is addressed to Mr. Green.

Billy knocks on the door and the old man answers. The brief encounter sets off a chain event that introduces Billy to another world where he will have to make the choice of a lifetime, and come to learn and understand the man in G-5.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.E. Munden
• Release date: Jul 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370387977

Book preview

Break

By J.E. Munden

© 2017 J.E. Munden

Self publishing

Cover Art © 2017 Ryan Huwe

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Manufactured in the United States of America

SECOND EDITION

Introduction and Acknowledgements

This story stemmed from a writing exercise where I took a word of the day and started writing from there. The word was Afflatus. It means: A divine creative impulse or inspiration. This combined with me napping in my front room one afternoon with kids walking past my sliding glass door and other character elements I have had stored in the back of my mind, this story shaped to what is on the pages to follow.

I would like to take this time to thank my friends for their time and talents in helping me put this story together. To Ryan Huwe, thank you for your vision, and graphic skills in making a beautiful cover that is very fitting. To Chris Steele, thank you for reading, rereading and answering all my questions in order to make this story as polished as possible. To Jon Steele, thank you for encouraging me to go forward with publishing this short story and get things started.

I want to acknowledge the Spokane writing community and especially, Erik Schubach. Thank you for your guidance and thoughts on the finishing steps towards publishing.

Most importantly, I would like to thank my lovely wife, Sarra, for allowing some extra time to pursue my passion in telling stories.

I

The man lived in a complex of town-homes on East River Drive. It looked like any other new complex sprouting up around the city, except this one a bit different. It was not really near anything. People have to drive about five minutes down a slow, winding road that took them to the city limits, and in a middle of a vast field, close to a river, was Lazy River Townhomes.

He resided in G-5, which was a townhouse that hugged the property line. There was only one other unit to his left that kept him from being the one in the northeast most corner of the property.

He was an older man, around 60. He still held onto his dark hair with only a little silver sneaking in on the sides. He wore denim coveralls because they were comfortable and functional, and spent his days watching soap operas and game shows while eating Hungry Man meatloaf and potato dinners. Despite his diet and inactivity, he still kept a slender, tall profile. He didn’t care about impressing people because he rarely met up with them. He stayed indoors because he had to. He had an arrangement where his mail was brought directly to him by the mailman and he would have his groceries delivered to his doorstep. Other than that, no one ever came by.

His sliding glass door led out to a small concrete patio with enough room to hold a few potted plants and a chair that he never sat in. There was not much to look at, just a fence to keep him from seeing the field next door. There was a small patch of grass that separated the patio and the fence, but it was barely big enough to consider even having it. There was no reason for anyone to be back there except for the landscapers that showed up on Tuesday mornings, but once in a while he would hear someone walking by.

There had been a few people that lived around him and lost their keys, so they would walk back behind past his patio to see if they left their back door open, but for the most part, his trespassers on his small patch of grass were kids who liked to walk around, exploring the property maybe in hopes of coming across a secret spot or something of interest. The man had something of interest that was a secret, so he always perked up when he heard steps and voices out in back. He sat in his chair and even with volume high on the TV, he could overhear some adolescent voice saying, Hey, I wonder what cool shit that old man has in there?

In this sheltered complex, many hidden lives were going on: adultery with neighbors, abuse of family members, and theft of things others covet. These events were all on the tongues of the gossiping folk of Lazy River, but the story everyone always wanted to talk about was the man in G-5.

He could see them gather outside his window, huddled in groups of two or three, whispering while staring across the pavement and through the spaces in between parked cars. The man was not bothered. People come and people go. he told himself.

And so they did. The people in the buildings moved out and some moved in. Different people, same sins, and still gathered out in front wondering about him. Up until this point the people around the man became nothing more than a shrubbery that needed to be trimmed. Same shrubbery he would hear always repeating, Hey bro, I wonder what cool shit that old man has in there?

As the people changed, so did his TV. The actors would come and go with some still holding on to their purpose to the never ending story. The Price is Right went from Bob Barker to Drew Carrey who tried real hard. The