—
I don’t need to walk around in circles

When the ghostly dust of violence traces everything
And when the gas runs out just wreck it, you insured the thing

But I can’t sigh now that you made the move
It has gone and gone to dogs, lay down on the floor
For the right price I can get everything
Slip into the car, go driving to the farthest star
-Soul Coughing, “Circles”
—
Todd turned off the car and pulled hard on the parking break. Its series of clicks was reassuring as Uncle Ralph’s house loomed in front of him. There was little grass on the postage-stamp lot, but the hedges reached nearly to the roof of the house’s first story. There was one tree in the front yard, and it had already dropped most of its leaves for the fall. The house itself was two stories tall, with a full-height attic and an unfinished basement. Its roof had a steep slant, and Todd guessed that it would be pretty hard not to fall if you were standing up there.

Todd strolled up the walk, trying to look at least half as intimidated as he felt. Something felt missing here, as if the house itself had a chunk missing. Uncle Ralph, of course. He managed to get the key into the lock on the second try, and slowly swung the front door open. Familiar smells washed over him, and he smiled. He’d never realized how comfortable he’d felt at this house until now, when it was too late to thank Uncle Ralph. Todd opened the front closet and slipped off his shoes. His eyes drifted over the odd assortment of jackets, coats, umbrellas, and shoes that stuffed the small space. Why had Ralph needed all of these, or were they holdovers from when he’d been younger? He looked at the hats sitting on the upper shelf, and pulled down a courderoy taxi driver’s hat. He couldn’t ever remember Ralph wearing even half of this stuff.

Todd put the hat on, and decided to explore the main floor first. As his foot landed in its first step on the creaky hardwood floor, his cell phone rang its shrill, demanding ring. He dug it out of the leg pocket of his jeans and answered with a dull, “H’lo?”

“Hey sugar-bear, it’s me.” Shelia, his girlfriend. “What’re you up to?” Todd rolled his eyes at the pet name.

“Nothin’. Checkin’ out old Ralph’s place.”

“Your great-uncle?”

“Yeah, he left me his house and all the stuff in it.” Todd felt that queasy feeling as guilt assaulted him. Nothing better than a vulture.

“You’re SHITTING me! He left you a HOUSE?! That’s fucking sweet! Are you gonna move out of your parents’ house?”

“Can’t. House is in some sort of trust fund until I’m eighteen.” He was strolling around the house now. Through the living room and into old Ralph’s den. “I guess I can take or use the stuff in the house, though.” The den was walled in bookshelves, with stand lamps in each corner. In the center of the room was an overstuffed and cracked leather chair, flanked by an end table and a stand ash tray. “You workin’ today?”

“Yeah, three to close. Thunk said he’d come by and visit me today. You should, too!” Todd pulled out the drawer of the end table, discovering a full pack of Nat Shermans and several silvery cigar cases. They were some brand called Helix.

“Sure. Talk to you then.”

“Bye!” It’d be cool to hang out with Shelia and Thunk. He hadn’t really seen anybody since the funeral, and maybe they’d cancel out the weirdness of old Ralph being gone. Todd took out one of the cigar cases and found a cutter and zippo in the drawer. He unscrewed the end of the case, tipped the cigar out, and cut the end into the ash tray. He carefully lit the cigar and pocketed the zippo.

This whole place was starting to feel ancient, so he might as well feel older, too.