In Absentia (Black Acres Book 1)

  In Absentia

  a Black Acres novella

  Volume 1

  By Ambrose Ibsen

  Copyright 2015 by Ambrose Ibsen. All rights reserved.

  Synopsis:

  There's No Place Like Home.

  Kim and Julian Taylor are in the market for their first home, and a visit to the secluded Beacon estate finds them enamored. It's a peculiar home, rather large and in need of some renovations. The price is right however, and after a tour, they snap the house up without hesitation.

  The man who sells them the house has one last detail to share before they sign on the dotted line. The previous owners of the home disappeared under mysterious circumstances nearly eight years ago and have recently been declared dead in absentia. Unperturbed by this fact, Kim and Julian set about making the home their own.

  It quickly becomes clear that the two of them are not alone there, however.

  In Absentia is the first novella in the Black Acres serial by Ambrose Ibsen. It is approximately 25,000 words and contains adult language, scenes of horror and a cliffhanger ending. Reader discretion is heavily advised.

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  In Absentia

  Black Acres Volume 1

  Chapter 1

  The tires kicked up gravel as they dug into the snaking driveway.

  Julian turned to her and grimaced. The house was coming into view just ahead. It was a big house, but it still looked awfully small to warrant the superlative “estate”. “I can't wait to stretch my damn legs,” he yawned, wiping at the corner of his eye and giving the wheel a slight nudge to the left. “I feel like we've been in the car for days.”

  Kim leaned back in her seat and stretched out, one of her flip-flops dropping off in the process. “You and me both.”

  Their visit was owed to a brief internet posting. For a few months now they'd been scouring the web for real estate listings, looking for something that they might fashion into a dream home. The Beacon estate was at the end of a long line, the latest in an effort to find an HGTV-worthy diamond in the rough. They had very strong opinions on what sort of house they were looking for, and they knew just how they'd renovate and decorate it once they'd found it, from the countertops they'd select for the kitchen down to the finish of the furniture in the living room.

  From the very first, the look of the Beacon estate threw them both for a loop, however.

  The two of them leaned forward in their seats in near-unison, looking it over narrowly as it loomed large just ahead of them. Stopping at the end of the lengthy driveway they idled for a time and studied its exterior, a smooth, beige stucco. They'd seen a few grainy photos online, but in-person the building possessed an arresting quality. The seeming bastard child of a smattering of architectural styles, the first story appeared long and wide, with numerous bay windows jutting out towards the woods at the rear of the property. Perched atop it in relative simplicity was the second story, a narrower, somewhat boxy thing that terminated in a black, slanted roof. The shingles looked not unlike a bolt of black hair atop a long and malformed head. Neither of them could come up with a detailed critique of the house right off the bat. It had character. That was about all either of them could say.

  Julian shut off the car and stepped out, stretching and carrying on with exaggerated vocalizations. He placed his palms against the outside of the sedan and squatted down, testing his range of motion and reawakening the muscles in his legs that'd gone dormant over the long car ride. Kim stepped out, yawning as the autumn sunlight washed over her. There was a pleasant, earth-scented breeze pouring in off of the woods. The sky was mostly blue, save for patches of wispy white clouds peppered throughout. She stationed herself against the hood of the car and poked her husband in the side as he ambled by. “So, we're supposed to be meeting the guy here, right?”

  Nodding, Julian looked this way and that. “Yep. He said he'd meet us here, outside. And we're right on time. Dunno where he's at. We should have a walk around the house in the mean time. Get a good look at it, you know? That way, if there's something hideous about it-- and I'm not loving the look of that cupola up there-- we can take off before he gets here, yeah?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, all right.”

  They paced around the perimeter of the house, taking in the sights and sucking in lungfuls of the gorgeous breeze. The air out here was different than it was back in the city. Julian had talked about living out on a farm as a kid, had said again and again how different it was from city life. Only now was she beginning to understand what he meant. A dyed in the wool city-dweller, Kim had never spent much time in rural settings. She was used to the constant clatter of pedestrians in the street outside their apartment, the sounds of rush-hour traffic as a backdrop to their dinners, the smell of exhaust in the air. The marked lack of these things was baffling and interesting to her, if not a little disorienting.

  Pausing before the back door of the house, they peered up at the small balcony, at the beige cupola Julian had taken such an exception to, at the dust-choked, heavy-looking windows that peered down at them from up above. They pushed on, marveling at the grounds as they went. Stacks of sun-bleached logs littered the back yard. Who'd put them there or how long they'd sat was hard to say. There was a fire pit, clogged up by the refuse of the changing seasons and fallen into disuse. The grass was tall in places, absent in others. Julian opined on the patchy lawn as they rounded the other side of the house and appraised yet more of the heavy windows with their thick, wooden frames.

  All the while, they stole occasional glances at the woods, which came up a hundred yards or so from the back door of the abode and stretched on for what seemed to be an incalculable distance. The trees shot up from the ground like thick Roman columns, but not one of them seemed to have anything in the way of leaves. The limbs jutting out from the ash-colored trunks were all shrunken and bare, and the forest floor was curiously clear of fallen leaves. Though Kim was no expert on trees, she couldn't ascribe the sight of that forest with the usual shedding of autumn. The forest looked utterly dead to her, nothing but bald, rigid trunks to be seen for miles.

  Rounding the other side of the house and walking about the front, they admired the large door and the smooth concrete steps that led up to it. To the immediate right, flanked by a few unruly bushes, was a dirt-flecked garage door that'd seen better days. Julian tugged on the waist of his jeans and sidled up to the house, climbing the few steps and running a hand against the smooth stucco. He pressed his face up against the nearest window and attempted to look inside. The interior proved dim, impenetrable.

  “Well?” asked Kim, waltzing over to the spacious front porch and taking a seat upon the steps. She plucked a curious-looking yellow flower from the grass and wrenched its petals off one-by-one. “What do you think?”

  She could already tell by the way he studied the house and tried to look inside that he was interested however. Julian tried to play it cool, sniffing the air and stretching, giving his shoulders a rotation and hitching his hands behind his head. “Not bad,” he said. “Looks to me like a little work could go a long way with this one. Won't know until we get inside, but she's got good bones. I'd bet you top coin she does.” A little grin betrayed his excitement. “And did you see that back yard! More space than we'd know what to do with. Could finally take up a proper garden, just like you've always wanted.”

  They were set to meet with the home's owner, a man by the name of Edwin, for a tour. It'd initially caught their eye for its remote location, and because it fell well into
their price range. This was a lot of house, and for only a little more than a two-room bungalow in the city might cost them. She hoped their search would end here, that the inside would impress them as much as the exterior had. Though hodgepodge, the house was large and boasted a great, quiet location. The only problems to speak of were cosmetic, and even then, there'd been nothing so egregious as to turn her off. She chuckled, combing a hand through her black hair and knocking a small yellow leaf from her locks. “Why do you think this place is so cheap?” she asked, looking up at Julian, who now paced across the porch like a caged animal. “Think there's a mold problem? Did someone get canned in the living room? This place ought to be way out of our price range.”

  A disturbance in the gravel driveway attracted their gazes at once.

  From the main road a large pick-up truck could be seen to pull up, maneuvering the winding stretch of dull grey pebbles before stopping behind their sedan.

  Julian nodded towards the truck. “Guess we're about to find out. I reckon that's Edwin.”

  Chapter 2

  After nearly a half-hour's worth of chit-chat, the portly Edwin Kelley prepared to take them inside the house. A squat man of about Kim's own height with a swollen paunch and a thinning veil of greyish brown hair swept greasily to the side, he wore a faded Carhartt jacket and spoke in a baritone voice tinged with chain-smoking raspiness. In fact, as they spoke outside, idling near the porch, he'd gone through two cigarettes and seemed on the verge of lighting up a third when it finally occurred to him to carry on with the planned tour.

  “Lovely couple,” he said as his sausage-like fingers sank one-by-one into his pocket in search of the keys. “How long have you been married?”

  Kim smiled politely, glancing at Julian, who was absolutely twitching with impatience. “Uh, three years now.” She cleared her throat. “Just looking for a good starter home. Tired of living in the city. We've got an apartment right now, but want to upgrade to something full-size.”

  Edwin loosed a laugh, almost dropping the keys as he sank one into the meaty deadbolt. Nothing she'd said had been particularly funny but he laughed all the same. “Oh, this will be more than enough house for the both of ya, I'm confident of that. This ain't like some tiny apartment in the city, no, this is a proper house, plenty of room for you both. And plenty of room for any tikes down the line, too!”

  Kim blushed. In her few years as a married woman, she had noticed strangers to have a certain fascination with the concept of children. The first question new acquaintances tended to ask was always how long she'd been married. Then, when that was out of the way, they were quick to follow up the first query with “So, when are you going to have kids?” It wasn't that Kim disliked the thought of children. She and Julian had discussed starting a family and it was something they would likely pursue in time. Nevertheless, the insistence of strangers that they breed always came across as obnoxious to her. The man was just trying to be friendly, to make polite conversation, but he was relying on the most grating of tropes.

  With a grunt, Edwin shoved the front door open. Then, with a clumsy theatrical flourish, he bared his yellowed teeth in a grin and waved them inside. “Right this way, folks.”

  Julian all but rushed past the man, stepping into the foyer and studying his surroundings with the utmost urgency. When he'd taken in the sights, he pushed on further without invitation, stepping into the living room, and then the kitchen.

  Edwin hitched a finger Julian's way and grinned at Kim. “Fella's excited, I take it?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, he's been waiting all day for this.”

  “Well, I know you folks came a long way, so let me give you the run-down on this old house. They call her the Beacon estate.” He sucked in a deep breath, his paint-dappled work boots producing a persistent thudding against the dusty wooden floors.

  “Why is it called that?” asked Kim, tugging on Julian's sleeve and drawing him back towards her. He frowned, not wanting to be hampered in his exploration, but fell into step beside her as Edwin entered into his spiel.

  “No reason in particular that I know of,” admitted Edwin. “But I'll tell you what I do know about her.” Approaching the chimney he rested a meaty paw upon the mantle, a gesture that required him to reach upward awkwardly, and stroked the lacquered wood lovingly. “She was built back in the 60's, late 60's. There'd been an old house on this land before that, but it was torn to make room for what you see all around yas. Property extends all the way to the main road up front and all the way to the edge of the woods around back, but the woods are effectively yours as well, since there ain't another property to be seen for miles around. I mean, your closest neighbor is probably on the other side of those woods, and ten miles away. If you're looking to get away from city living, for something secluded and private, you simply can't beat this.

  “Anyhow, like I was saying, this old house was built in the late 60's by a pair of young lovers not unlike yourselves, went by the names of Marshall and Dakota Reed. Lovely folks, and they financed the construction of this house themselves. Built her from the ground up, they did, after tearing up the old shanty that used to be here. Put in five bedrooms, two bathrooms, an attic and built her to last.” Edwin cleared his throat and moved from the mantle, starting into a rambling tour. First he led them into the kitchen.

  Kim's first reaction to the kitchen was one of dismay. The room wasn't simply outdated; it was essentially a snapshot of the 1960's set in amber. The appliances were ancient, probably didn't operate, and everything else, from the tacky-looking brown linoleum, to the orange tiles along the wall, would have to go. She almost threw her hands up right then and walked out. This room alone would require an incredible amount of work. The cabinets were perhaps the only thing that could be salvaged, done up in a traditional style from hardwood, however a few of them looked shabby on their worn-out hinges and would have to be repaired. She'd been looking for a fixer-upper, but this was a whole other level.

  “Now I admit,” said Edwin, scratching at his ear, “that this kitchen could stand a little update.”

  Kim held back a laugh. A little update? That was one hell of an understatement.

  “But she's got good bones,” he said, switching on the tap as if to make a point. It sputtered to life, spilling into the worn-looking basin. “Pipes still in good shape. Copper, sturdy. None of that plastic crap you'll find in the city.”

  Amused, Kim looked to Julian, expecting him to call the whole tour off, or to offer some sarcastic quip.

  But to her surprise, his eyes were alight. He was clearly fascinated, looking around the room and imagining what it could become. She'd seen this look on his face before and knew that he was falling hook, line and sinker for this old clunker of a house. She placed a hand on his forearm, hoping he'd snap out of it, but instead he only dove deeper down, tapping on walls and knocking on the floors with his heel. “Seems solid, overall. A little work and this could be a Michelin-star-worthy kitchen.” He threw his arms out and shot a smile at Kim. “Look at all this room! You bust out this linoleum, throw an island in the center and you're all set. Gut the cabinets and such, too, of course. But just think! No more standing shoulder-to-shoulder in that little kitchen back at the apartment. It's an open floor plan in here, not some little corner to hide away in!”

  Kim chuckled, but was having trouble seeing what he saw in it. To him, it was a grand project. To her it was a long, grueling chore. “Let's see the rest of it,” she pressed.

  “Sure thing.” Edwin waved them on through the hall, leading them into the nearby living room. “You've got wooden floors throughout, and as you can see the former owners were real good about maintaining 'em. Just a little white vinegar from time to time will keep these in tip-top shape. That's the secret.” He pressed on the floorboard beneath his boot, making it squeal. “Good, strong floors. No nasty carpet in here.” He started through the room, motioning at the bare, white walls. “Could paint this up any which way. Walls are all white in this house, so
painting over 'em and making it your own is real quick and simple.”

  They started next into a dining room, which looked much the same as the living room. Then there was a small alcove, featuring a closet and a hallway. Down the hallway they discovered a stairwell, which was marked by a hand-carved bannister. Small figures had been etched into the side, seeming to depict a rudimentary biblical scene. Kim frowned as it came into view, the clumsily-carved cherubs in the varnished wood looking back at her. It was just another thing that would need replaced. Here and there, too, in the molding, she'd noticed the occasional artistic flourish. Some amateurish hand had attempted to personalize a good deal of the house, whittling tacky motifs into places they didn't belong.

  Edwin led them upstairs, and Julian's interest remained palpable all the while. He asked a lot of questions of the guide, examined many features and remarked consistently to his wife upon the qualities of the place. He was enamored by it, and though she didn't share his enthusiasm entirely, she had to admit it was infectious. She loved seeing him in this mood, and wondered if she couldn't tolerate the house's gaudy charm. It would take a lot of work, but given enough time, they could probably flip this house into something respectable; attractive, even.

  And time was something they had a lot of. The entire reason for their move was Julian's sale of a new screenplay to a Hollywood studio. They'd paid him well for it; so well, in fact, that they could afford to move out of the city, settle in a proper house and have more than enough to renovate it. After years of struggling in the industry and near-constant money troubles, Julian had made some progress. Now he was determined to enjoy his spoils.

  The bedrooms were all plain but relatively large. In their open spaces Kim saw potential. The bathrooms, though hideously dated, were not beyond help. They, along with the rest of the house, could be salvaged. By the time the tour ended at the foot of the attic stairs, Edwin was terribly out of breath and red-faced for the exertion. “I think that about wraps it up,” he said. “But if y'all have any other questions for me, fire away.” He led them back downstairs, and the trio exited the house. Fanning himself in the cool breeze, Edwin lit up a cigarette. “What do you think of her?”