The House on Mendocino Street

Hey, everyone! This is the fourth scene of the story that I’m posting as I write. I’m doing my best to keep it at or under 300 words. It’s based on a true story. Mine. The names of people have been changed to protect the innocent. Also, this has not been edited so it’s not going to be perfect. I plan on expanding and polishing this later on for publication.

If you want to follow the sequence of this story click below:

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

THE HOUSE ON MENDOCINO STREET

Maddie pulled her brows together. She had searched the Florida Department of Law Enforcement website the night before for pedophiles and sex offenders in the area. It showed twelve within a five mile radius. "What man?"

"A man?" Bob walked through what looked to be the dining room toward a Florida room covered in jalacy windows. He peered through one of the slats, scanning the backyard. A big black bird sat on the lowest branch of the large tree. “I don’t see anyone. You sure this isn’t a new imaginary friend, Niki?”

"His name is Ed," Niki said. “He’s not pretend. He’s real and  he pushed me on the rope hanging from the tree. Sylvia said she would do it. But didn't." She twisted a long strand of hair, wide-eyed looking at her mom. “He’s real, mommy. His head is bald. And he has really bushy eyebrows. And he smells like a candy cane.”

Bob chuckled.

Maddie’s considerations kept her from hearing either one, but she said to Bob, "Maybe you should go outside and check." She writhed her hands together. The thought of some sicko touching her daughter gave her a sick feeling.

Bob spun around, casting a steady gaze on Maddie. “She’s making it up for attention again. Why do you let her do this?”

A pasty lump formed in Niki’s throat. She tried swallowing but it wouldn’t go down.

Maddie cocked her brow. She didn’t want to argue in front of a complete stranger about her daughter’s need for imaginary friends. Nor did she want anyone to know her panic button had been pushed by the man her daughter said she saw. Besides, her daughter never told lies to get attention.

"Why don't we all go," the realtor suggested, sauntering to where Bob stood. "The backyard would be great for your little girl to play in."

"Not with some pedophile lurking about.”  Maddie couldn’t help but blurt her thought out. “Niki and I will stay right here.” She knew she never liked this real estate agent. There could be a psycho running lose and all he can think about are his pockets? Jerk.

© Shelly Arkon 2013