Steve Bullin
3/13/13 Vopat
Fiction Writing
Plot Exercise
A Model House
Veronica
was chilled to the bone and anxious. Her car wasn’t starting and the
weather she was caught in wasn’t getting any better. The rain bounced
off the cobble path as Veronica ran up the lawn to the shelter of the
front porch. Her car had the decency to leave her within running
distance of some off-the-track bed and breakfast. Her hurried knocks on
the door echoed unanswered. Studying the place Veronica figured anyone
staying here was up in years and would probably be a while responding.
There was the frame of an old dog house out on the lawn, siding painted
to match the house, the dog dish left unattended was rusting and old,
dead leaves beginning to pile inside the vacant home. The whitewash was
chipping from the shutters that sealed out the windows and the structure
seemed to creak like old wood in the wind of the storm, the rain was
coming in sideways. The rain drops weren’t as noticeable as they were
wet and cold. Veronica folded her arms close and leaned closer to the
house to try and fend off her back getting soaked in the storm. Last
thing she needed was to get sick before the next board meeting. The
creak of the door startled Veronica. A small woman peering behind thick
distorting spectacles craned up at her.
“Wicked conditions outside, where on earth did you come from poor thing?”
“My
car stopped a little ways from your front gate, and I can’t get it to
turn over. This is a bed and breakfast right? I have cash.” Veronica
reached for her wallet to show her good intent. The old woman’s hand
stopped her, leading her into the orange light of the house.
“No
need to talk about that now. Goodness me, come in before you catch your
death of cold.” When Veronica passed into the front hall she was taken
aback by the silence in the house. The blue light of the storm was a
vanishing shape cast on the rug beneath her feet until it was gone, the
old door silently closed behind her, all sounds of the storm cast out.
The
old lady pealed Veronica’s coat off her shoulders from behind, placing
it on a coat hook with a number of other dusty coats the lady opened a
nearby closet for her guest.
“These
are for your shoes, place them on that thick rug there to dry. We’ll
get you in the sitting room to warm up a bit before dinner.” While her
eyes were adjusting to the light the house was warm and a welcome change
to the outside. Veronica’s hostess went elsewhere to prepare dinner or
the fire presumably while Veronica removed her damp shoes to rest beside
the others. Warm air blew through the vents warming the hardwood
flooring and soft rugs underneath her feet. The front hall lead to a few
separate halls and rooms, leaving little indication to where her
hostess went, Veronica called out into the house.
“You have a lovely home Miss..”
“-It’s
Miss Dylis, dearie.” Miss Dylis’s voice drifted in from the left hall.
Veronica stepped off the rug venturing forward to gain a view through
the doorway. The cramped hallway opened up into a large sitting room.
Couches covered with afghans fitted into the walls, surrounded by
bookshelves and china cupboards stocked with small glass figurines.
There were two old dusty lamps perched on top intricately embroidered
doilies positioned on end tables to lighten the room, you could make out
one large table silhouetted in the one dark corner of the room with
various things perched on it, but the center piece was the fireplace,
two lounge chairs were set close by with a small tv tray between the
two. Miss Dylis held a tray with two steaming coffee cups set neatly on their individual saucers.
“But
please dearie, feel free to call me Vivie. Would you like a cup?” Old
Miss Dylis seemed to wait on her guest’s answer. Veronica smiled
politely.
“I’d
love one.” That seemed to cheer up Miss Dylis plenty. Veronica wondered
how often the old woman got company way out here. The house seemed
deserted. Veronica settled down into the warm lounge chair and
thankfully accepted her cup of coffee, two sugars one creamer. Miss
Dylis took her seat across from Veronica and sat, enjoying the warmth of
the saucer on her lap as she watched the fire. The orange flame casting
a yellow flicker across her dense glasses. Veronica tried not to
chuckle at how large the glasses made Miss Dylis’s pupils look. She
seemed like such a sweet little woman.
“My name’s Veronica.” Vivie seemed woken up from a trance.
“-I’m sorry dear?” The old woman cocked her head to hear.
“My name, it’s Veronica.”
“Oh,
what a pretty name dear. You’re a lucky one you are. Our names have
bits of magic in them my mother always said.” Veronica chuckled,
enjoying the pleasantness of the setting and her warm beverage Veronica
was in better mood.
“Well
I might have lost mine, I mostly go by Vera these days. There are two
other Veronicas in my building at work. I like Veronica, but it just
makes things simpler.” Turning back to her host Miss Dylis looked
terribly sad suddenly. Her old leather face turned from that pleasant
greeting into a startling frown, emphasized by her bug like spectacles.
“How
terribly sad dearie, to lose your name for such rubbish.” Miss Dylis’s
hands were cupped around her small mug, she leaned straight back in her
chair watching Veronica.
“It’s
not all that bad Miss Dylis, I’m looking at getting a different job
soon, I can take back Veronica easily enough. They haven’t stolen it
from me or anything.” Veronica tried to make light of it but her hostess
still seem upset.
“Vivie.
Would you mind telling me what’s over on that table? In the corner…”
Miss Dylis’s silly bug eyes smiled as she stood up and scooted over to
the table in the dark corner. Veronica simply sat and watched, relived
she hadn’t somehow ruined her pleasant relations with the mostly sweet
Miss Dylis.
Her
hostess reached around the bottom of the table and flicked a small
switch, small white Christmas lights flickered to life casting light on
the miniature town that was spread out before them on the table. Like a
small train town everything was miniature to a set scale and from
Veronica’s spot she could make out a small town with little hills and
trees populated with small glass figurine people milling about in the
town center. Most everything was set in an early fifties, late forties
vibe. Miss Dylis beamed proudly at her work.
“Here’s
my town. Or at least this is what it looked like when I was a girl. But
you know how time goes, people change, people leave. Here’s where we
are.” Vivie pointed to a small cottage on a hill, which Veronica
couldn’t deny looked very much like Miss Dylis’s home, little less
run-down, but perfectly to scale. Veronica made to stand up from her
chair but couldn’t. Her body was completely asleep, her legs like stone.
Veronica willed herself to wake up to no avail.
Miss
Dylis scooted over and kneeled in front of Veronica removing her thick
glasses. From the corner of her eye Veronica spotted a small black model
car set a ways from the front gate of the little model cottage. She was
panicking, her body was still not responding but it was Vivie’s eyes
that made her panic. Underneath the thick distorting glasses Miss
Dylis’s eyes were small, they were so small. Like little beads or toy
glass eyes peering out from the rough old skin that covered her sunken
eye sockets. Those beady little glass eyes flickered with the light from
the fire place.
“No worries dearie, I’ll take care of you.”
