The Windows

 by: Hankster

© 2020 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

hankster@tickiestories.us

Chapter 4

Coop entered his office early Monday morning.  None of the staff had arrived yet.  His attaché case made him look very professional.  He was clean shaven, freshly showered, and nattily dressed, but he looked like hell.  His face was drawn and pallid, and he actually looked like he was about to cry. 

Pete had not come home on Sunday evening, even though he still had four more days of school.  Coop, assumed that he meant it when he said he would stay the entire summer, but it was not like him to shirk his duties.  Then again, nothing was like him anymore. 

There was no cell phone signal at the cottage, and the land line had not been turned on.  Fortunately, there was an old-fashioned phone in the cottage.  It actually plugged into the wall.  Coop sat down at his desk, wondering how he was ever going to get any work done.

When his secretary arrived, she was about to comment on his appearance, but she thought better of it, and said nothing.

“I didn’t expect to see you so early,” Sherry said.  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks Sherry.  Do me a favor.  Hold all my calls.  I’m working on a sticky problem.”

“Sure,” she said.  Poor Sherry was madly in love with her handsome boss, but she knew that he was married and gay, so she continued to work for him in full frustration mode.

When he was alone in his office, he went to a file cabinet which was tucked away in a corner.  It was his own private file for his personal papers.  He removed the file with the closing documents for the cottage, and jotted down Chester Smith’s phone number.  It was past nine, and he called the real estate agent.  Chester was definitely nervous when he heard who was calling.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked as cheerily as he could.

Coop was not about to make small talk or to make nice-nice.  He came right out with it.

“Listen Chester.  That place you sold us is cursed.  I know it must have a history, and I want to hear it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play games with me, Chester.  I’m a lawyer.  If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll report you to the real estate board, and you’ll lose your license.”

Chester was scared now.  “Report me for what?” he asked.

“Lack of full disclosure.  That’s a real no-no.” Coop was making all this up as he went along.

So, Chester told Coop all about Jim Watkins. 

“He was a sane business man when he moved into the cottage.  Little by little he stopped going to work and spent all his time there.  When his family couldn’t contact him, they came to investigate.  He was lying in his own urine and feces.  He hadn’t showered in days, maybe weeks.  He had gone stark raving mad, and he had to be committed to an institution to be treated for schizophrenia.”

“Do you know where he is?” Coop asked.

“Yes. I had to go there to get him to sign a contract for me to act as his agent.”

“Well?’

“He’s at The Miracle of Hope Convalescent Hospital on E. 87^th Street in Manhattan.”

“Thanks Chester.  See how easy that was?”

“Mr. Cooper.”

“Yes?”

“For what it’s worth, I think the place is haunted also.”

They both hung up at the same time.

The next call he made was to the telephone company office nearest to the cottage.  They gave him the new telephone number, and assured him that service would be activated by midnight that day.

He buzzed Sherry.  “I have to go out for a few hours, and I can’t be reached.”

“Can you tell me where you’re going?”

Coop figured that he should tell her something.  Everyone would ask, and it wasn’t fair to her to be left to tell lies.

“I have a very sick friend.  He’s in the hospital.  I don’t know how much time he has left, and I want to run over to see him.”  Coop didn’t feel that he had lied.

“Okay, I’ll hold down the fort,” she promised him.

Coop went to the reception desk at the hospital, and asked if he could visit Jim Watkins.  The receptionist was surprised.  Nobody had visited him since he was admitted, not even any family members.  She asked Coop to have a seat and she would buzz his doctor.

Five minutes went by very slowly, and finally, the doctor came to reception.  He spotted Coop and went over to him.

“I’m Dr. Goodman,” he said, and extended his hand to Coop. 

The two men shook hands, and Coop said, “I’m Albert Cooper.  I’m an old friend of Jim’s.  I wonder if I could see him?” 

“He’s totally unresponsive,” the doctor explained.  “He’s never had a visitor before.  If he sees an old friend, and you talk to him, even if it’s a one-way conversation, perhaps we can spark a reaction in him.”

“I’d like to try.  If I could get a response from him, I’d be grateful.”

“Me too,” the doctor said.  “Then come with me, but don’t get your hopes up too high.”

Dr. Goodman led Coop to a large room that looked like a recreation center.  Patients were watching TV, reading books, playing cards and board games, or just chatting one on one or in groups.

One man was sitting alone in a corner staring into space.  Coop knew immediately that this was Jim.  He was not as Chester had described him.  His hair was cut, he was clean shaven, he smelled fresh showered, and Coop even thought that he was a very handsome man.  There was an empty chair right next to his.

“Why don’t you sit in that chair,” the doctor said.  “If you get uncomfortable, or if Jim does something you don’t like, just call that attendant over there.  His name is Gus.  I’ll tell him to keep an eye on you.”

Coop sat down next to Jim.  He made no attempt to shake his hand.  “Hi Jim,” he said.  “My name’s Coop.  I came to visit you.”

Jim continued to stare into space.

“You don’t know me,” Coop continued, “but I bought your house in Dutchess County.”

Jim snapped his head around, and stared at Coop.  His blank face hadn’t changed but his eyes betrayed a spark of interest.  He spoke for the first time in years.

“Take me back,” he begged.  “I’ve got to get back,” he said.

“Why?”

“The windows.  I’ve got to wash the windows.  Without me, who’ll take care of them?”

“What’s so special about the windows?”

“When I touch them, my whole-body fills with energy.  I feel like I could rule the world.”

Coop should have been shocked, but somehow, he expected to hear something crazy like this.  He was beginning to believe that the grime on the windows was acting like a drug, an addicting drug, at that.

“If I promise to wash the windows for you, will you promise to listen to the doctors and get well?”

Jim didn’t answer.  He just resumed staring into space.

On the way out, Coop stopped at Dr. Goodman’s office.

“Thank you, doc,” he said. “I appreciate the visit.”

“Did he respond at all?

“I’m afraid not,” Coop lied.  As an afterthought, he added, “but don’t give up on him.”

“I won’t,” Dr. Goodman promised.

There was a bus stop right in front of the entrance to the hospital.  The bench was empty.  Coop slumped down on the bench and started to cry.  He had to get Pete out of that house, but he had no idea how he was going to do it.

He called Sherry, and lied again.  “Seeing my friend that way has really depressed me. I’m going to take the rest of the day off.  I’m too down in the dumps to work.”

“Okay boss. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Coop hailed a cab, and went home.  When he got there, Pete was in their apartment.

Coop was too shocked to say anything.  Pete did not comment on Coop being home so early from the office.  In fact, he seemed oblivious to everything.  He gave Coop a peck on his cheek, and acted like everything was normal.  Coop was getting more and more confused. 

Finally, he had to ask.  “Why didn’t you come home last night?  I thought you had classes until Thursday?”

“Yes, but as soon as I started for home, and I got cell phone reception, I called the university.  I told them that I was too ill to finish the semester.  They said that they had it covered.” 

“Then how come you came back to New York if you didn’t have classes?”

“As I told you, I’m staying for the summer, sweetie, but I didn’t have nearly enough clothes with me, so I came home to stock up for the summer.  I’ll be out of here in a jiffy.  Wanna have a quickie before I leave?”

Coop had to work really hard not to cry.

“Sure,” he said.  They rushed into the bedroom, but this time Coop fucked Pete.  He wouldn’t allow Pete to do anything but suck his cock.

Pete really rushed through the whole process with zero passion, and he left as soon as he could.  Once he was out of the apartment, Coop couldn’t constrain himself any longer.  He broke out crying, and sobbed for hours.  He thought he might have to take another sick day tomorrow, just like Pete.

To be continued...

Posted: 05/22/2020