Todd pulled a few puffs of the cigar smoke into his mouth. It stung a little, but it was a full, rich flavor. The hat and the stogie definitely made him feel older, and a little more like he had a right to be here. The kitchen was empty. There were no dishes, glasses, stored food – perishable or not – anywhere. The fridge was there, but empty. Toaster, microwave, oven, all super-clean, like they’d never been used. No pots or pans, either. How wierd was that?

Feeling spooked, Todd headed back to the living room. He stared at the dominating piece of furniture. The calliope’s tallest pipes had needed part of the ceiling to be removed, just to fit. There was an air pump in a nearby closet that powered the monstrous instrument. He clamped the cigar in his teeth and pulled the bench out. This was greedy sacriledge, but Todd could not stop himself. He sat down and sat his cigar on the built-in ash tray. He gently ran his fingers over the once-white keys, remembering the first time he had touched Sheila.

There was no sheet music that Todd could see, though he could never really remember old Ralph using music. It had always seemed to pour out of him, and the keys had moved as if they’d just been waiting. Todd picked up the cigar, and drew a few more puffs from it. He could definitely spend a couple of hours here. He turned on the bench, surveying the living room. Framed pictures everywhere, old magazines stacked on endtables between garish sofas and chairs, framed news clippings, from all different eras, and no television.

That was one thing Todd would have to change before he moved in, if only for his gaming consoles. Who knows, maybe there was one upstairs. Todd glanced down at his watch. The mall where Shelia worked was a half-hour drive away, and it was already three. He took a couple more puffs from the cigar and carefully put it out in the calliope’s ash tray. Good god, he wished he could move in right away. Two years would be an eternity to wait. He took his car keys out of his hoodie’s pocket and looped the house’s keys onto the ring. He stepped out onto the porch, making sure that the door was shut and locked. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie’s pocket and headed down the walk to his car.

About halfway there, he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth hung open as he stared at a car parked along the other side of the street. It was a boat, for sure. A giant, off-white, Oldsmobile land-barge. There was surprisingly little rust on it. In front of the car stood two large men, both with brown goatees and brown hair. They could have been brothers. One was wearing a trench coat that was covered in metal plates, and was staring straight at him. The other looked like some sort of game show host. He had a top hat, a long coat that flared out at the bottom, and some kind of shiny shirt. He was gesturing wildly at the street, and was all smiles. It looked like he was trying to convince the other guy of something.

Todd shook his head to clear it. There were plenty of freaks everywhere, there was no reason that these two should have taken him by surprise like that. He walked the rest of the way to his car, and got in. Mostly to convince himself that he wasn’t afraid, he spent a minute or two choosing which CD to listen to.

ICP made the cut and drowned out Todd’s shaken confidence. It worked so well that he didn’t even see the Olds pull out and start following him.
—
Boys and girls, it’s nighty night time
Happy J the Clown has a nursery rhyme!
It’s about The Boogie Woogie Man
Keep your light on as long as you can
Cuz when it cuts off, so does your head
Boogie Woogie Woogie waits under your bed
With a shank, splah!, up through the bottom
Little Jimmy Jimmy, uh, got ’em.
-Insane Clown Posse, “Boogie Woogie Wu”

—
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.

—
I’m done being there for others
They have their pain and so do I
Don’t need to feel it all over
I try to hold on and you bring me down

We wait, we hate
We try to get away
Mistake my pain
It has been lead astray
I’m looking around, I drop to the ground
Why does it have to end this way

Feeling numb, so long
Oh God it’s just everything
It’s everything
Now I pray for all of them to go away!

I’m done being there for others
They have their pain and so do I
Don’t need to feel it all over
I try to hold on and you bring me down
– Korn, “I’m Done”
—
Todd sat in his basement room. He was listening to Korn, cranked up to the point that almost hurt his years. Despite the trashing around and headbanging that Korn usually inspired, Todd sat still on his futon matress. He was holding the keys to Uncle Ralph’s house – his house – and just staring at them. It wasn’t a big house, but it had felt like a dusty maze when he’d last been there. Why in the hell would old Uncle Ralph give him something so big, worth so much, hell, with so much responsibility attached?

He closed his fist around the keys, and drew his arm back to throw them across the room. At the last second, he stoped, and made a disgusted face. If he threw them, he’d likely never find them again. Clothes, CD cases, comic books, and video game magazines literally covered the floor. The often-used incense was the only thing keeping the air breatheable down here.

Todd’s parents never came down here any more, anyway. They were big believers in privacy and respecting each other’s space. That made it really easy to hide the beer and the weed. The Korn track ended, filling the world with silence for a moment that lasted forever. He tossed his headpones onto the matress and turned off his sereo. He grabbed his black hoodie sweatshirt and pulled it over his head. He slipped his feet into his laceless Sketchers and grabbed his car keys.

He took the basement stairs two at a time; he would have to be going pretty fast to avoid any of his parents’ attempts at being “involved” – especially so soon after the funeral and reading of the will – as he headed out the door.

Their questions of “Where are you off to?” and “Todd, when are you going to clean your room?” were barely deflected by the door as he raced out of the house. He certainly didn’t hear his father, Richard, say to his mother, Vanessa, “I hate to say it, ‘Ness, but I don’t think he’s ready for such a big responsibility.”

He swung the door shut on his thirteen-year-old rustbucket car, trying to think of a reason not to go to the house. He shoved in the clutch and turned the key, listening to the engine cough to life. The muffler roared and rattled in protest, so he turned up the music to compensate. The bouncy style of Soul Coughing lifted his mood on the way to explore his new house.
—
I don’t mind the worry following me like a dinosaur…
I don’t fear I am descending into the molten core…
So far, I have not found the science,
But the numbers keep on circling me.

The numbers keep on circling me.
– Soul Coughing, “So Far I Have Not Found the Science”
—