Merriton

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Bowen house?”

Kit Kat was looking at the homes for sale online. HOME was the only word that kept repeating in her mind over and over. Dave had left her alone in their tiny apartment and taken most of the furniture, leaving it echoing with what they used to have and all she could think about was leaving New York and getting home. June, Merriton’s only true realtor, hesitated on the phone.

“You don’t want the Bowen house, honey.”

Kit Kat’s anger flared. “It’s EXACTLY what I told you I wanted. Why didn’t you send it over to me? Why did I have to find out about it by looking online MYSELF?!”

June was quiet on the other end of the line. The silence was unnerving and Kit Kat feared that she had offended the only realtor who really knew the area. June might have been a small town real estate agent, but she had access to properties that weren’t listed. She had the whole damn town as a pocket listing. The longer June was quiet, the more panicked Kit Kat became.

“I’m sorry. I’m… a little on edge.”

June finally answered, “I know, honey. Your mamma would be so proud of you right now. You got all them books you wrote and you’re handling this divorce better than anyone I ever saw.”

Kit Kat felt guilty. She WASN’T handling this divorce well. From the moment Dave said the words, “I’m done,” she had been fighting explosive diarrhea and bouts of crying. If she hadn’t been between books, she would have been in a state of utter panic at the fact that she couldn’t write. Even her daily purge of writing in her diary had been forced and uncomfortable. All she could think about was home. June might think that she was dealing with this divorce well, but that’s because June was all the way across the country and only talked with her on the phone. Kit Kat’s intestines cried out in pain while she listened to her realtor continue.

“We want to get ya home as soon as we can, but the Bowen house isn’t what you want. It’s gotta problem with it and the owners are pretty bent on making any buyer sign a buncha disclosures ’bout it.” Kit Kat’s stomach urged her and she made a race for the bathroom, hoping that June wouldn’t hear her desperate evacuation.

“What’s the matter with the house?”

She cringed as the echo of her intestines emptying in the toilet bounced back to her, hoping that June hadn’t heard it, the stench of it overwhelming her.

“It’s gotta curse on it. Probably haunted, too.”

Kit Kat laughed out loud for the first time since Dave uttered those two final words. She was sitting on the toilet and the body jostling of the laughter made her stomach feel at ease for a moment.

“So Old Artimus Bowen never left, huh? He didn’t seem like the type to haunt a place. Elvis Lancaster, on the other hand…” Kit Kat continued to laugh.

June interrupted her with a stern voice, “This ain’t no joking matter, Katherine. Nobody has lived in the house for more than two years without leavin’. One guy blew his brains out. The current owner nearly ran herself to death. They say livin’ in that house feels like bein’ stuck in a puddle of algae water. It ain’t the house for you, honey.”

Kit Kat stifled her laugh and tried to sound serious. “June, I’m not a superstitious person. I don’t want some resort condo. I want a REAL house with a bathtub and full-sized refrigerator. I have been living in three hundred square feet for so long that I DESERVE a real house and compared to the prices in New York, that house is practically FREE. Write up an offer on the house. I want it to be full price and I’ll sign whatever disclosures they want signed. Algae water sounds lovely compared to what I’ve been drinking here in New York.”