Hi, my name is Julia, and I run a Hauntch Store. Before we go any further, yes little giggling children call my store all the time asking if I’ve seen their bare haunches on display in my windows. But this is not a Haunch store, this is a Hauntch Store. I know what you’re thinking, so what is a hauntch? And that’s exactly what I was asking myself just two months ago.
“Miss Julia Deardhorn?”, an aging rounded man held out his hand towards me. “I am Albert Finkenstankle, your great aunt Gileda Deardhorn’s solicitor. That is to say, I’ve called you here for the reading of the will.” His white bristly sideburns were almost standing on ends as he leaned backwards and motioned towards the door. “Of course,” he continued as I walked towards the doorway. “There is only you and Tabitha.”
As I reached the doorway and glanced in, there was a small room lined with bookcases. The bookcases were filled with stacks of paperwork and old law volumes. In the center was a dark, heavy, wooden desk. The desk cluttered from every angle with paperwork, and small objects meant as paper weights. To either side of the desk sat worn comfortable red leather chairs. I noticed to the right, glancing up at me with great curiosity, a slender orange tabby cat. She resumed her curled up position as Mr. Finkenstankle pushed past me.
“Please do sit down.” he motioned to the empty chair as he shuffled through papers. “And so it was.”, he pulled out a stack of papers and begin to read through them. “On the passing of Gileda Wastborn Deardhorn, the whole of her estate and store front property on the dock is to be shared equally between her long time companion and friend Tabitha Wilkinson.” He paused motioning to the cat. “And her surviving niece, the last of the blood line, Julia Grace Deardhorn.” he did not look up but continued to go on.
While legal terms flew above my head and out of my mind, I glanced at the cat. She rose her head up a bit glancing at me, and winked.
As she laid her head back down I was pondering how many times I had ever seen a cat wink. My thoughts were interrupted by Finkenstankle clearing his throat.
“And do you have any questions, before I take you out to see said properties?” he watched me.
“You said I had a store on the docks?”
“Yes, quite. The Hauntch Store.”
“What exactly is a hauntch?” I interrupted.
“I, umm, err…” Mr. Finkenstankle began fumbling for words. Upon clearing his throat he continued, “Well you are aware of how eccentric your great aunt was?”
I replied flatly, “I was not aware, of any such thing.”
Finkenstankle fumbled for words again, then figured out what to do. “Perhaps it’s best, if I just show you.”
We pulled up to the first row of many one story wooden shacks. They started off with one row facing a pier, then each row sat behind it. The front of one building was the back of another, unless you had waterfront property. Finkenstankle assured me that the most desired property was the waterfront one.
The structure sat on a foundation of creaking old wood, that literally faced out openly to the water. There was no guard railing at all, however in diffrent places there were spots to tie up a boat. There was unfortuntaly, no place to tie up a boat near my store. Mine was Sixteen Seventy Three, which looked like Sixteen Seventy Four, and exactly like Sixteen Seventy Five. It looked just like all the Sixteen Seventies that I saw, actually. Old, weather-worn, wooden planks made up the exterior walls. A single, rusty, metal roof connected all the buildings together. Each store had it’s own small window, the size of an adult face. There was a solid wooden door for each front entrance.
“There’s no signs on these doors.” I remarked.
Mr. Finkenstankle wasn’t feeling chatty anymore.
As I glanced over at him, I noticed he was shaking slightly. A small look of fear was present in his eyes as he stared into the vacant window. Then he quickly pulled the keys out his pocket and thrust them into my hands. “I have an urgent matter I must attend to, urgently.” He excused himself suddenly and began to almost trot away.
“How odd.” I muttered, as I watched the back of him now sprinting out of sight. I grabbed the golden brass door knob, and paused. This doorknob looked brand new, there wasn’t even a smudge on it besides mine. The first two keys didn’t work, but the third one let me in.
