Chatterbox: Inkwell

Tales from Evening Street

Every house on Evening Street looks exactly the same.  They're all large, looming, scary, with gaping windows with open shutters that look like eyes.  The house at the end of Evening Street is different, though.  It's painted a happy sky-blue, and doesn't look dilapidated like the others.

Now, you wouldn't believe it, but all the houses on Evening Street are lived in except for the happy blue house on the end.  And they're great people, too.  They just live in a scary place.  I knew most everyone on that street as a child, and I even played with the others my age when I lived there.

In 1 Evening Street, my friend Lauren lived.  She was a sweet girl, short, with olive skin and long straight black hair that I would braid every saturday when we sat on her porch to play as children, draw as tweens, and talk about gossip and classes as we approached adulthood.  She was a kind, quiet kind of girl, and I often wonder what happened to her after I went to college.

Austin lived in 2.  He had four siblings, and told lies that his oldest sister lived in the blue house.  I never believed him, since the lights were always out and there was never any cars in the driveway.  He liked playing tricks on the rest of us, which was something that evolved into thought-out plans to destroy the popular kids' houses in high school.  That, I can assume, was something he grew out of when he had to retake his sophomore and junior years and I lost touch with him after I graduated.

Mr. and Mrs. Madelyn lived in 3, Evening Street.  They were your average couple, and I used to visit them when my parents weren't home and I was looking for something to do.  Mrs. Madelyn always told me stories that seemed like fairytales but were clearly different and had some sort of twist.  Mr. Madelyn was a bookish man, and I read many of the books in his study that I was interested in.

In 4, Maralyn and her father lived.  She was five years older than me, and I always sought advice from her, seeing as she probably saw and experienced things that I had not before.  She never really talked to me more than that, though she gave me art tips and advice on things that I didn't understand as a child but grew to know as a teen.  I always accepted them with pleasure. 

My cousins Amy and Jonathan lived in 5.  I went over to their house often, especially when both my p9arents had to work during summer break.  Jonathan was my age, and Amy was a few years younger.  I used to ask Austin, Lauren, and a few others to their house so that we could play hide-and-seek in their backyard and record movies in movie maker on Lauren's phone that we would always laugh at after watching.  Amy was really sweet, and I regret not getting their contact information when they left when I was twelve. 

I lived in 6 with my mom and dad.  My mom worked as a tutor at the elementary school I went to, and my dad was a veteranarian.  Sometimes, he would bring home animals to foster, though they would always make my nose stuffy and my eyes pink and itchy.  Sometimes, I invited Lauren to my house to have a sleepover, but her parents would always come when we said that we would go to bed.

7 was occupied by the lovely old woman named Mrs. Roberts.  She lived alone, and was always happy to come to her house with Austin or Jonathan and tell her the wonders of what happened that day.  She sometimes said that she was wondering when her husband would come home from work, which was something we didn't understand until we were old enough to realize that she sometimes forgot that her husband wasn't alive and she lived by herself.

Katy and Rhonda, twins, lived with their parents in 8.  Rhonda was always nice to us.  She always played practical jokes with Austin, played video games with Jonathan, and drew pictures with me and Lauren.  Katy, however, was nothing but trouble.  She yelled at Austin for playing jokes on her, criticized Jonathan's video gaming skills, and always laughed at our artwork.  I was really sad when I realized that their family split and Katy had to leave.

9 was where Nicholas lived.  He was in his twenties when I was around ten, and lived alone.  He was a musician, and took us to school when our parents couldn't.  Whenever any of us went over to his house, he would play something on the piano or the guitar we tried to play sometimes when we were old enough.  I was looking online a few weeks ago, and I found his name in a list of top-selling artists.  It made me happy that he was able to find his dream even though he lived next to that blue house.

One time, when we were around fifteen years old, Austin told me he was going to vandalize the blue house.  I didn't want to do it with him, and he said that he would get Jonathan to do it with him.  At this, I told him not to, since Jonathan had a perfect record as far as I knew, and I didn't want Austin to ruin it. 

He said, "If you don't do it, I'll get Jonathan to do it, and I'll vandalize YOUR house too!"  Even though I was sure he was joking, I agreed to it anyway, because he meant everything he said when it came to practical jokes.

The plan was to cover the house in neon orange spray paint that sunday at three o'clock.  That time, all our parents would be at work, and Nathan had agreed to tell no one.  Instead of using the spray paint from the can, I would spray it onto a large paintbrush and draw crude faces with it. 

When that sunday came, Austin and I brought the spray paint and paintbrush to the house and began.  Austin drew whatever he could think of, and I started from drawing grinning cheshire cats to stick figures to smiley faces wherever Austin didn't cover.  When we were done, the bottom half of the house was covered in dripping orange paint.  Neither of us were tall enough to reach the windows of the second floor, and our parents would get suspicious if we asked for a ladder.  We high-fived.  I had enjoyed it more than I thought I would.

That night, we went back to our homes, wondering what would become of the half-orange, half-sky-blue house.

The next morning, when we all went to Maralyn's house to take us to school, Austin and I both noticed that the house wasn't orange.  It was blue as always.  We were very confused after that, and Austin never again made any plans to vandalize the blue house.

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So yeah.  Guess me, critique me, do whatever.  I'm making this into a series of stories, so they'll keep coming!