Live it Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

toyed with the idea of going inside. It was something he’d never done, a
missed trespass always regretted. Rumor was the last owner had hung himself
back in the early fifties, and it had been enough of a deterrent to keep most
young thrill seekers away. Billy once said he’d gone in on a dare, seen the
shadow of a hanging body cast on the dirt floor of the cellar. Billy had an
overactive imagination and feeble bullshitting skills. He hadn’t even the balls
to go in the attic where the hanging was reported to have taken place.
    Still, Hugh thought, all rumors and legends
had some basis in fact, didn’t they? He lifted the latch and pushed the gate
in. He checked both ways along the street and walked into the yard. The
concrete path had long since been reclaimed by wild grass and weed, just a few
patches of cracked grey could be seen as he crept closer.
    This is crazy.
    He placed a small hand over his thumping
chest. Why was he so goddamned afraid? He looked toward the porch, to the
shaded front door. Old boards were nailed over the small window near the top.
    Probably locked.
    No way could he force his way through, not
with this little body. There was an oak tree off to one side with great gnarled
branches clawing out over the second storey balcony. The tree looked as dead as
the house. It would be an easy climb, an even easier job to open one of the
bedroom windows from the outside.
    What if he fell out of the tree? What if
the wood on the balcony was rotten and he crashed through? What if he broke the
window trying to get in and cut himself?
    He backed out of the yard slowly and shut
the gate. The house could wait. Hugh crossed the road to the other sidewalk and
continued his walk down town.
    Would he have been scared to enter the
house as an adult?
    Of course not. I’m forty-seven-years
old.
    The voice in his head didn’t sound very
convincing.

Chapter 4
    “Why aren’t you in school?” Mrs. Friedmont
asked. The old lady had stopped Hugh in front of Nelson’s Grocery. She held a
paper bag filled with goods beneath her massive breasts.
    “Mrs. Stimm sent me downtown for
construction paper. He may have been ten again, but he hadn’t lost the ability
to tell an instant lie with a smile on his face. When she’d been alive, Mervina
Friedmont had been a friend of his grandmother’s. “We have to finish a history
project this afternoon.” He showed her the dollar bill.
    She stared at him through her pointed,
steel-rimmed glasses, the arms held by a small chain. At an even younger age,
Hugh had been terrified she would wrap them around his neck and choke the life
out of him. She was a kind-hearted woman, with a high-pitched, contagious
laugh, but there was something about her beady dark eyes that concerned him,
like a rat studying cheese.
    “Well, you’re not going to find any in the
food store, silly boy.” She ruffled his hair.
    Hugh shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I
figured for all my hard work, maybe I deserved a chocolate bar.” Another easy
lie. He’d perfected the skill on people a lot smarter than Mrs. Friedmont. It
came naturally enough and she believed every word of it.
    She laughed and her entire body shook. The
head lettuce near the top of the bag threatened to spill out, but her left boob
kept it in place. “Tell your mother I said hello, and do come down to the
senior’s home more often. Your grandmother just loves to show you kids off.”
    Hugh nodded appreciatively and slipped
inside the grocery store. Mr. Nelson glared at him suspiciously, but remained
silent. The old bastard never spoke to kids; Hugh could never remember hearing
more than grunts from the man when his parents shopped there.He turned
down the first aisle and found the candy rack.
    “This is fuc--fricking incredible!” He
peered back around the corner quickly to see if Nelson had heard him. He hadn’t.
Hugh stared at row after row of familiar old brand names with long-forgotten
logos. Bubble gums squares worth half a penny.