THE OLD MAN'S HOUSE©

by Richard A. Falb

 

 

He seemed, at first glance, just a kindly old man who lived in an old house. A somewhat run-down old house. The kind you find in many small towns and cities. What made him different was that he had an ability to tell interesting little stories. The type of stories kids loved to hear.

The town he lived in was like many small towns. There were old houses scattered among newer ones. There were some that just sat there, weeds growing up around them. Sometimes someone would move into one of the old ones. Some of those took on a new life. Life just went on.

That's the way it was with the old man. One day, he just seemed to be there. He lived in an old house on the outskirts of town surrounded by a tumble-down fence. He appeared old, but he stood tall and straight and had a vigorous walk. He was always cleanly dressed, although no one seemed to remember what he actually wore. He looked pleasant and had a smile and a cheery hello for everyone. The house looked weathered and in need of some repairs. It had been vacant for a long time. He cleaned up the yard and even fixed the gate. The other little things did not seem to concern him. He seemed to have enough money on which he lived frugally. He never bothered anyone, and he seemed to be getting along all right. Consequently no one paid too much attention to him.

As time went on, he began to do small odd jobs for various people in the area. He was a very good worker and always did a very good job. Some of the people, who hired him, said he sounded very well educated. However, no one, could find out where he came from or what he had done. It wasn't that he was secretive. He just managed never to tell any one anything. Because of this, many stories grew up about him.

The kids seemed to like him. When he first appeared he would be out at his gate when the children walked home from school. He had a friendly twinkle in his eye and always had a bright smile. He would say hello and ask them how their day went. He never would ask any them to come into his house. Because of this, the parents never saw any cause to worry about him. He would always talk to the children over the fence. He began telling them funny stories and tall tales.

Some children passed his house everyday, on the way to and from school. He was always outside to greet them. If they stopped to talk, usually after school, he always had a story. Still some people were not sure they trusted him. He just seemed strange to them. It bothered some of them that they could never find out anything about him. It wasn't anything they could put their finger on, just a feeling, they said.

Most people, although they thought he was strange, didn't see any harm in him. He never caused any problems. He was just a nice old man who liked to entertain the kids with stories. He was a good storyteller all of the kids said.

Two teachers heard about the old man and his stories, from the children. These two became interested in this old man who always seemed to have a story the kids enjoyed. One day, they decided to walk that way and see for themselves. They stopped with the children and listened to the story the old man told them. It was a nice story that they could see no harm in. To them, it was obvious the old man was well educated. His stories were well thought out. He had a wonderful way of telling stories. They stayed after the children went on. The two teachers asked him where he got the stories.

The old man shrugged pleasantly and said, "I make them up."

After a couple of minutes of talking, the old man invited the teachers into his house for a cup of coffee.

"I'm sure I have some sweets to go along with the coffee," the old man commented with a very pleasant smile. He seemed very gracious and very well mannered.

"We'd love to," said the older teacher. She had become curious to see what the inside of this house looked like. The outside looked rather weathered and slightly ramshackle. It wasn't tumbling down, it just looked like it could use quite a bit of work and painting up. Was the inside anything like the outside, she wondered. No one had ever noticed anything being moved into the house. None of the people who normally did the moving in town had moved anything into this house. They had heard this commented on by a number of people. They were interested in what they would see in the house.

When they got inside the door, they looked around in surprise. The rooms were very nicely furnished. It was nothing like they had envisioned. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. It looked like they had stepped into an entirely different house. It was a house they would have liked. The windows had beautiful curtains and the furniture was modern and of good quality. They were seated in a nicely furnished living room on some very comfortable chairs. The old man produced some coffee served in very nice china cups. The sweets he produced were excellent quality and obviously freshly made. It was as if they stepped into a fine house even to the fine trays he set up for them. They didn't know what to think. All this time, the old man was carrying on a pleasant conversation with them as if this was exactly what they should have expected. They couldn't believe they had walked through the doorway of a ramshackle house and into the house they were now in. It didn't seem possible.

After a while, the two teachers thanked the old man, and said they should be going. They noticed as they left the yard, that although the fence seemed ramshackle, and missing a few boards, the gate was a very solid iron one, with beautiful scrollwork. They had not noticed that when they went in. They both looked back at the house as they walked down the road. It was still the old ramshackle house, definitely in need of some repairs.

"Did you get the impression that it was an entirely different house once we were inside?" the older teacher asked.

"Yes. I very definitely did," answered the younger teacher. "Also, once inside, he didn't look so old and his clothes seemed to look nicer and newer. It was very strange."

"That's funny. I had the same feeling," replied the older teacher. "Of course it could be the effect of the difference in the looks of the inside of the house. It was beautiful. I loved the place, curtains, the furniture. I could have just moved in. Nothing like I expected to see."

"He does seem to be very well educated, the way he speaks," the younger teacher said thoughtfully.

For a while they only talked about it between themselves. However, as both of them saw the same thing at the same time, they began to tell others. The stories of what the teachers saw, and their impressions, slowly spread around the town. This, of course, increased the speculation, on who the old man was, and what he was doing here. However, he was not causing any problem. It was admitted, he was very pleasant to everyone.

He did not try to entice the children into his house. On the contrary, he kept them outside of his fence, talking to them, over his ornate iron gate. He never offered them anything to eat, he just told them stories. Rather wonderful stories, according to the children. He promptly paid his bills.

Apparently he was getting a pension or an annuity of some kind which he picked up at the post office every two weeks. The money, it was discovered, came in the form of a cashier's check from an Eastern bank. There were no clues here, about who he might be.

The speculation, of course, centered around why the outside of his house looked kind of run-down, but the inside, according to the two women, was beautifully and tastefully furnished. Some people, of course, questioned the story of the two women. The women were new to the schools in town, having been hired just this past school term.

Some people tried to cook up ways to get invited into his house, but he always met them at the gate. Although he was very pleasant and more than willing to talk with them, he never invited them into his house. Afterward they could never remember how he got around that. He never seemed to have a problem, for which he had to call a repair person. This speculation went on for several months. Then it began to die down. Most people lost interest. They could find nothing sinister about him. The old man was still a very pleasant person. The kids still loved to hear his stories.

One day, a man came to the house from the town's water department. He told the old man that he needed to attach a special meter that could be read from outside of the house. The old man very graciously brought him into the house and into the basement where the water meter was. The man installed the connection to the water meter and then installed the meter outside. He then left.

Later, people at the water department questioned him about what he saw inside the house. He said the rooms he saw were plainly furnished, as he had expected. It was nice and clean, and looked in good shape. He didn't see anything unusual. It looked like a house he could be comfortable in. He said it looked a lot like his own house the way it was furnished. He said the old man was very friendly and helpful. He told his fellow workers the old man offered him a cup of coffee and some store-bought cinnamon rolls. When he was asked how he was served the coffee, he replied matter-of-factly, "In a mug of course."

As this story spread, speculation again increased. Some people began to say they were either talking about two different old men in two different houses, or somebody was making up their story. Both the two teachers and the man from the water department stuck by their stories. Things began to die down again after a while. People just got tired of discussing it.

Fuel was added to reheat the speculation by something that happened later that month. Three men, who were real curious about the old man, found out the old man was going to be away for a couple of days. The three were some-what short on ethics. They didn't see breaking and entering as a crime as long as nothing was stolen or destroyed. Late at night, on the second night, the three climbed over the fence and went to the back of the house. They found a window they could force open. Then, with flashlights for light, climbed into the house. What they found, was a completely empty room, in the same disrepair as the outside of the house. They went through the whole house finding exactly the same situation in every room. There was no furniture or anything in the house. It looked like a house that nobody lived in. They quickly left the house and carefully replaced the window as they had found it. None of the three men spoke all the way home. They didn't know what to think, and they were almost afraid to say anything.

The old man came home and everything continued on the same. He did not seem to realize his house had been broken into. The children still stopped by when they saw him. He always had a story for them. Several times, mothers would go to the school to meet their children and then stop with the children to talk to the old man. The old man acted as if this was normal and told his stories as he always did. He never invited any of them into the house. Some of them were curious to see the house, but they knew he really had no reason to invite them in.

The men who had broken into the house couldn't continue to keep silent. They told some close friends what they had done and what they saw. The story began to circulate, but of course no one seemed to know who the three men were who claimed to have seen this. Everyone said they had heard someone talking about this, but they didn't know who the people were.

Because the old man did not report any break-in, the police could not do anything. Actually they preferred not to do anything about this situation. They weren't sure what to make of all these stories. No one actually had any complaints about the old man. Just because no one could agree what the inside of his house was like, was no reason for them to investigate. That was no crime that they knew of.

With the coming of winter, the old man no longer was waiting outside for the children. He was only seen on rare occasions, when he went to the post office, the bank or to do some shopping. The speculation about him and his house seemed to die down. The three different stories about the inside of his house were kind of forgotten about for the time being.

With spring, the old man again began to meet the children at his gate, as they came home from school. He again began to tell his stories, and mothers stopped regularly with their children to hear his stories also. They all agreed he was just a nice friendly old man who was a wonderful storyteller. But with the coming of spring, also began the speculation.

The house outside still looked like it needed repairs, but it didn't seem to bother the old man. However, with spring, flowers began to replace the weeds in the yard. There were some flowers people didn't recognize. The old man didn't seem to do any work in his yard, although he continued to do work for other people from time to time. To those people, he seemed to know a lot about flowers.

A college professor, from a nearby college, heard the stories and decided to try to visit the old man himself. He timed his visit for the morning when he hoped the old man might invite him in for a cup of coffee. The old man, as usual, met the professor at the gate. The professor introduced himself and started to talk with the old man. It was obvious to the professor that the old man was very well educated. Eventually, the old man invited him in for a cup of coffee, just as the professor hoped he would.

The old man took the professor into the library, which was filled with beautiful mahogany bookcases filled to the ceiling with books. The furniture was comfortable, real leather chairs and oak tables. In fact it was the type of house the professor loved. Everything about it was perfect in his mind. He could have just moved in. The coffee the old man served was the professor's favorite along with scones, which were also his favorite. The old man willingly talked with the professor on many subjects, but never once revealed where he came from or what his background was. The professor finally said he must be going and thanked the old man for his time and refreshments. The old man showed him to the door. The professor noted the fact that the gate did not belong to the fence.

He also looked back at the house and wondered, if the house he spent an hour or so in, was the same as the one he was looking back at. It did not seem possible. The house he was looking back at was old and ramshackle. The inside of the house he saw was anything but old and ramshackle. It had been beautifully and tastefully furnished. It must be, because there was no possible explanation for it being otherwise. He had the feeling that when he went through the door of the house he passed into an entirely different house.

When the professor reached the college, he immediately arranged to meet two very close friends that night. He intended to present them with this situation and see what they made of it. Apparently the four groups of people who had been inside of the old man's house, three by invitation and one by stealth, had seen, according to their reports, four different houses. Each of the houses were what those people would like. In other words, it fit their particular character. The outside and the old man, however was the same. The professor, himself had seen a fabulous library, and a man who was obviously intelligent, well educated and extremely well read. They were all apparently seeing what they wanted to see, or perhaps what the old man wanted them to see. But if that was the case, how could he possibly do it and for what reason. The professor was both puzzled and intrigued.

That night the professor's friends listened with interest, mixed with a certain skepticism. It was not that they doubted their friend. They knew he was telling them exactly what he had seen and experienced. It was that the whole scenario was just too strange. There was no logical explanation. Yet there was no reason for the people to make up stories about what they had seen.

As they talked, they were trying to think of someone, who could get into the old man's house with a plausible reason, who they would trust to report exactly what that person saw. It narrowed down to a young woman, one of their former students, who was now with the State's Department on Aging. She could say she came to explain, to the old man, all the services that could be available to him if he would ever need them. They figured he would be a gentleman and invite her in to explain things to him.

Two weeks later she did show up at his gate. As usual the old man was there to meet her. He listened politely and then as the professors had hoped, invited her in for coffee while she told him about the services her department had available. She had been briefed on the all the stories, including what the professor had seen. She looked the outside of the house over carefully as she walked to where the old man was standing at the gate. She examined the gate as she talked to him and as he let her in. Then she looked the house over as she walked toward it and then into the house. Even though she had been prepared for what she might see, she was still taken aback. As the professor had told her, she seemed to have walked through the door into an entirely different house. What she saw was a house nicely furnished in the latest contemporary style. The furnishings were not expensive, but of good quality. She carefully studied everything without being too obvious about it. It was exactly as she would have wished to furnish it.

Of course, as a person dealing with older people she would be naturally interested in the place in which he was living. The old man proved to be pleasant, friendly and interested in what she was telling him. He served her coffee and cakes on nice everyday china. The coffee was very good and fresh brewed and the cakes obviously fresh baked. She listened intently when he talked, and observed him as she talked. She found it to be a pleasant visit, and she thanked him for the coffee and cakes, and the old man thanked her for the information. Although she thought he looked old when she first met him at the gate, now she didn't think he was as old as she first thought. She too looked back at the house as she left. It really was an old ramshackle house. At least on the outside, and that was the problem. It was entirely different on the inside.

As soon as she got back to her office she called the professor to report her observations. When she finished she said, "I saw it with my own eyes, and you saw it with your own eyes, and I don't think it is possible. That house inside was definitely not the house I entered from the outside, but I don't know how that could be possible. It was as if I walked through the door into a different world."

"That is exactly the impression I had, and I reached the same conclusion," the professor told her. "I would like to have both of us invited into that house at the same time, but I am positive that would not be possible. What troubles me most is the why and how. The old man is real, and the house is real. That we know. The inside of the house I saw was real. I felt and examined the furniture and the books."

"I did too, as much as I could," the young woman agreed. "What I saw, I am convinced was real, not an illusion. But how could he do it. And as you said, why is he doing it."

Within time, the story, of what the professor and the woman, from the department on aging, saw, started to leak out. Pressure began to mount on authorities to investigate. This was becoming too strange and people began to call for some kind of an investigation. Some started hinting about witchcraft. But the old man was not hurting anyone. He was not causing any trouble.

The sheriff resisted the pressure as long as he could. He would have to make up some reason for getting into the old man's house. Before he came to investigate the old man and his house, he sent word to the old man that he would be there with a couple of deputies on a certain day. He could not bring himself to just dropping in on him without any warning.

That day, the sheriff and his deputies drove up to the house. The old man was not at the gate to meet them. One of the deputies pointed out, the gate, was not the nice, iron gate that had been reported. It was a wood gate half off its hinges and hanging open. They walked up to the door and knocked several times. Getting no answer, the sheriff tried the door and found it open. What they walked into was a completely empty house that was as badly in need of repairs as the outside. There was no sign of the old man and no evidence anyone had lived here for several years.

The deputy turned to the sheriff, "Several days ago I drove by this house and there were flowers blooming in the yard. When we came in today, the yard was full of weeds."

The sheriff was silent for a few moments, then he directed one of the deputies to get pictures of the inside and outside of the house. Then he directed the other deputy to see if anyone had pictures of the house while the old man was here, and especially if anyone had taken pictures of the old man. They then put the yellow crime scene tape around the entire yard to keep everyone out until the sheriff could get the state BOCI in to get fingerprints and things. They actually saw no footprints in the dusts except for those obviously made by the three men.

That night the house went up in flames. It was an intense fire and the whole house burned completely to the ground before the firemen could put the fire out. Because it was an old wood house it burned very quickly. In the center of the ashes was a bust of an old man. The bust was completely untouched by fire.

Later the state fire marshal's office reported, the fire apparently started in the area of the bust. It almost looked like spontaneous combustion. Pictures people had taken of the house, showed only weeds and no flowers and none of the pictures showed the metal gate or the old man.

The property was left empty. Finally the town removed the debris and the old fence torn down. The children along with some fathers and mothers built a new wood fence around the property and planted a large garden within. Then, they found an iron gate like the one the old man would lean over, to tell the children stories. They were able to get the bust of an old man from the sheriff and they built a pedestal in the middle of the garden and put the bust upon it. They put a plaque on the pedestal. It reads, "This is the Storytellers Garden". Beside the pedestal they put nice wooden bench.

Many children would still stop on the way home from school and spend some time looking at the garden, as if they were waiting for the old man to appear and tell them a story like he used to. If you visit that town today, you will still hear the stories about the old man who loved to tell stories to the children. No one however, repeats the stories of what all those people saw as the inside of the old man's house. They still maintain the garden there. They still call it the old storyteller's garden. Some have said they have seen the ghost of the old man, leaning over the iron gate, as if he is telling stories to the children. But then, there are always people who say they see ghosts.

THE END