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Drama Science Fiction

Hello, officer, I’m concerned about my neighbour’s safety.

I’m Chris McNeill from fifty-two Galley Lane…

His name’s James Ratcliffe with an “e”…

Jim lives opposite me at fifty-three…

I believe strangers have abducted him…

They’ve got gold skin and black eyes…

No, officer, this isn’t a prank call…

Yes, I appreciate you’re busy but…

Please, just allow me to explain…

#

Sherry and I aren’t nosey neighbours, however we couldn’t help noticing Jim’s house guests. They first appeared late one night about a fortnight ago. A series of thunderous blasts rattled our double glazing and bursts of bright light illuminated our bedroom. Sherry woke with a start and shoved me out of bed to investigate the kerfuffle. I stumbled across our room, shielding my eyes as I approached the window. Peering past our curtains, I saw the outline of Jim’s house silhouetted by pulsating flashes of light that emanated from behind his property.

We’d both been worried about Jim ever since his wife’s departure. He’d lost contact with the outside world except for regular on-line grocery orders and deliveries from the liquor store. Clearly, it was far too late for a consignment of his favourite tipple, and today’s groceries were still on the front doorstep. 

The disturbance continued for about five minutes until the loud noises ceased and the bursts of light diminished. It was then I noticed a ground floor light come on and saw two tall, dark figures framed in the front room window. It was difficult to identify them, and after the blinds snapped shut, the neighbourhood remained peaceful all night.

#

Jim Ratcliffe and I are a similar age, though you’d never know it. He received life-changing injuries on a training exercise in the Pacific during his military service. The damage resulted in a severe back problem and lack of mobility, impacting both his physical and mental wellbeing. The Navy pensioned Jim after his accident. However, he was a hollow shell on his return. Jim had retired a decade earlier than planned, hit the bottle, and got divorced from Anthea within two years. Anthea told Sherry she couldn’t stand the endless drinking, self-pity and alleged violence toward her. It was all too much, and she left him.

It's been tough witnessing Jim struggle by himself and adapting to his new life in a wheelchair. We weren’t the closest of neighbours, however we do what we can nowadays, given his predicament. Sherry worries that Jim’s neglecting himself and takes him an occasional hot meal. 

#

The next day, I wandered over to Jim’s place with my secateurs. I had a long-standing arrangement to help maintain his garden, and the border shrubs required my attention. As I crunched up Jim’s gravel driveway to the front door, I spotted an upper curtain twitch and a curious golden face disappeared from view. Knowing Jim would be downstairs, I didn’t give it a second thought and presumed it must be his visitors, making themselves at home.

I rang the bell three times and, after waiting in vain, I proceeded to the side entrance. Jim trusted me to get on with the gardening, and I knew the work he required. As I approached the side gate, I heard tiny footsteps on the gravel pathway ahead. I eased open the double doors on their rusty hinges and glimpsed a pretty little girl. She had a golden face and wore a foil bodysuit that glinted in the morning light. Her beady eyes were pitch-black and intense, halting me in my tracks. As I opened my mouth to speak, her face contorted into a snarl and she hissed like a feral cat before scampering into the undergrowth. 

I closed the gates behind me and headed towards an unkempt bay tree that needed pruning. There was no obvious sign of a vehicle or tyre tracks on the turf, although there were four symmetrical scorch marks. I attributed them to over-zealous leaf burning; an activity Jim enjoyed every October. His many trees produced an abundance of autumnal debris and he often asked me to collect and incinerate them.

After snipping away for half an hour, I noticed a seated figure watching me from behind the kitchen door’s fly-screen.

Hey, Jim! I said, ambling over to greet him. How’re things?

He grunted an unintelligible response as I approached the rear porch.

You never mentioned your granddaughter was here, Jim.

He gestured towards the bay trees and muttered something I failed to hear.

We can chat later if you’re busy, I said, pausing on the lowest step.

Jim raised his arm and waved it somewhat mechanically, retreating into the shadows again.

In retrospect, the entire exchange felt uncomfortable, and most unlike our usual friendly banter. It was almost as if he were a puppet or an automaton. However, despite skulking behind the protective mesh, it never occurred to me I wasn’t addressing Jim. I just assumed he was short of sleep after the night’s disturbance.

#

A week later, I paid Jim another visit to deliver a letter posted in error at my address. The postman was new to the area and always in a rush to finish his round on time. Our house in Galley Lane was at the end of his route, and often he stuffed any remaining letters in our mailbox in desperation.

Jim answered his door, clutching the doorframe for support. It was the first time I'd seen him standing upright for three years. The sudden improvement to his health was a surprise, although his face remained impassive.

You’ll never guess what, Jim, I said, brandishing his letter. He’s done it again.

Is that for me? Jim asked, gazing at me as though we’d never met.

You’ve got mail, I said, stammering a brief explanation as I handed it over.

He received it, offered a rigid smile, and returned inside.

#

It was Sherry who spotted the additional occupants at number fifty-three. I hadn’t been counting how many visitors were occupying Jim’s home. The visitors restricted all their activities to nighttime and kept a low profile during the daylight. We were aware of their unconventional behaviour, but as long as Jim was fine and they didn’t abuse his hospitality, we presumed there was nothing untoward.

#

Yesterday Jim answered the door standing tall and proud, looking twenty years younger. It was a remarkable transformation, but something was missing; he wasn’t himself. His light pallor had a faint golden hue and his pupils were black, like asphalt. Jim’s eyes had lost their playful sparkle and his jokey, self-deprecating wit was absent, too. Our exchange felt contrived, despite his rejuvenated appearance. 

Who’s that, honey? Asked a woman’s voice from inside.

Just the neighbour, said Jim.

Surely, that’s not—-

Excuse me, please. 

Is that Anthea?

I’m required out back.

With that said, he closed the door. I shook my head in disbelief and stumbled down the front steps, returning home with deep lines etched on my forehead.

#

A week after reporting my concerns, two policemen arrived at Jim’s address. They couldn’t get a response at the front and gained entry through the rear door. The attending officers’ cursory inspection confirmed the owner was absent, and they noted the fuse box under the stairs wasn’t working. Their report surmised an excessive electrical demand had blown all the fuses, which accounted for the puddle of water under the refrigerator in the kitchen.

Don’t you reckon Jim’s disappearance is suspicious? asked Sherry.

We get calls like this all the time, said the lead officer. A leaking appliance isn’t grounds for a nationwide manhunt. 

I suppose not, but—-

After all, there’s no law against abandoning a property and failing to leave a forwarding address.

They closed the case due to lack of evidence and no positive line of enquiry.

#

Sherry said that Jim wouldn’t leave his beloved home by choice. He had no mortgage and received a pension that covered all his out-goings and expenses. She persuaded me to pop over and see if the authorities had overlooked anything. Despite my concern about Jim’s disappearance, my visit to his house revealed nothing else. None of it made sense to Sherry. She maintained we’d all missed something obvious. 

Had anyone looked in the greenhouse? 

What about the garage?

#

The greenhouse was a complete mess; its panes were all shattered and shards of glass covered the soil. The sorry state of repair was odd, as Jim spent so much time pottering about in there. However, it revealed neither clues as to his whereabouts nor evidence of any nefarious activity.

I said a search of the garage was a waste of time because Jim hadn’t owned a vehicle since Anthea disappeared in the Toyota Camry after their divorce. Anyhow, I forced up the metal coiling door six inches to peep underneath. As soon as I bent down, a foul stench assaulted my nostrils. It was coming from the depths of the garage. Peering inside, I spotted Jim’s wheelchair. It was lying on its side by the freezer cabinet. There was also a distinct hum; the high-pitched whine of ravenous bluebottles. I wriggled under the door and headed towards the cold chest, protecting my nose and mouth with my sleeve. A cloud of black flies greeted me as I raised the lid. I recoiled back, catching my breath with the stench. Jim hadn’t left his home after all. His remains were plain to see.


The End




August 12, 2023 03:58

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22 comments

Joe Smallwood
11:49 Aug 17, 2023

Open ended! Gotta love aliens for that in stories. The true whatever got into 'em now characters made possible. Thanks for liking my story.

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Howard Halsall
14:45 Aug 17, 2023

Hey Joe, Thank you for reading and commenting on my story. I reckon you nailed the idea in one; it’s all about ambiguity. I guess if we really did encounter aliens then by definition, having the technology to get here, they’d be an awfully lot smarter than us and we’d be lucky not to be treated with the same contempt we show towards Planet Earth’s other species, and be eaten as tasty morsels… Take care HH

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Frank Lester
01:55 Aug 16, 2023

Interesting plot of strange occurrences. Poor Jim. The opening phone conversation made me laugh. I could see the cops scratching their heads. I had to look up secateurs. I'm more acquainted with pruning shears or hand clippers because I'm a Yank, but I always get a kick out of learning new words from our friends from the other side of the pond. Thanks for sharing it. Nice work. Stay well.

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Howard Halsall
07:30 Aug 16, 2023

Hey Frank, Thank you for reading my story and leaving your feedback. I’m glad you enjoyed it and hope the pruning shears moment didn’t spoil the experience. The English language has so many international variations that it’s easy to forget there are regional subtleties. However, as you say, it’s always interesting to discover a new word. Take care HH

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Frank Lester
00:13 Aug 18, 2023

Learning new words or regional variations is half the fun. Having to look up secateurs didn't detract from enjoying the read. I had to laugh. My Word editor just highlighted secateurs as unknown. LOL. Program's not so smart after all. Have a great weekend, Howard.

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Howard Halsall
01:09 Aug 18, 2023

Yes, I agree with you, Frank, It is fun when one finds a hole or a glitch in a program and a good old fashioned dictionary made from paper-bound pages has it listed. I trust you’ll have a fun weekend too. Take care HH

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Noa Gardner
09:54 Sep 05, 2023

Hilarious! Brilliant story! I feel bad for Jim, seemed like a nice guy. Careful the extra-terrestrials don't get you, you've exposed them now!

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Howard Halsall
14:51 Sep 05, 2023

Hey Noa, Thanks for reading my story and leaving your positive feedback. I’m pleased you enjoyed it and liked the dark humour. Take care HH

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Noa Gardner
09:52 Feb 27, 2024

No, THANK YOU for responding and writing such a great story!

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Ellen Neuborne
23:37 Aug 15, 2023

Yikes, that's dark. Very engrossing. I enjoyed this.

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Howard Halsall
07:17 Aug 16, 2023

Hey Ellen, Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts; they’re much appreciated. Take care HH

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Harry Taverner
15:07 Aug 15, 2023

Very nice, lovely paranoia!

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Howard Halsall
17:45 Aug 15, 2023

Hey Harry, Thanks for reading my story and leaving your feedback….. Take care HH

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Vid Weeks
16:17 Aug 14, 2023

A good read, thanks

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Howard Halsall
18:16 Aug 14, 2023

Hey Vid, Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts :) Take care HH

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Lily Finch
20:29 Aug 13, 2023

Ooh, Howard. This is a maniacal tale indeed. Whoa. Wickedly dark. Just right up my alley! LF6!

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Howard Halsall
02:01 Aug 14, 2023

Hey Lily, I had a suspicion this story might appeal to your particular sensibilities and I’m not disappointed to discover that’s true… :) Thank you reading and commenting; you’re thoughts are much appreciated… Take care HH

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Lily Finch
03:14 Aug 14, 2023

Absolutely nailed me, Howard. D) Guilty. LF6

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19:35 Aug 13, 2023

I wonder what they wanted and where they went. So many questions I still want answers to...like a sci-fi serial on Netflix.

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Howard Halsall
01:57 Aug 14, 2023

Hey LeeAnn, Thank you for reading story and leaving your positive feedback. As regards what “they” wanted, I guess they’re purpose will be revealed as they colonise our world; hiding amongst us in plain sight…. Take care HH

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Mary Bendickson
13:10 Aug 13, 2023

Wonder where the neighbors all went? Thanks for reading and liking my latest couple of stories.

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Howard Halsall
01:53 Aug 14, 2023

Hey Mary, Thank you for reading story and sharing your thoughts. As regards the “neighbours,” I guess they are amongst us and hiding in plain sight…. :) Take care HH

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