It was perfect and everything young boys could want. The house was completely empty, but when we went in, it had the feel that all of its occupants had left at once and in a hurry. Rotting books remained open to the last read page, the bones and dust of food and drink sat on the table, every candle had long burned down to its last bit of wax, still sitting in their holders. Furniture sagged with rain that leaked through the decrepit roof, but was dry enough we could make kindling for the still functioning fire place.
We loved it. There was so much to go through. I spent countless hours with the Henderson brothers, Craig and Bobby, exploring the house whenever we got the chance, day or night. We always talked about what might have happened to the old owners, what family might have lived there, why no one came to claim their stuff. And no answer would ever satisfy, because we couldn’t know, so we could speculate in the most wild and inane ways we wanted.
Until I went into the basement. I don’t know how many times we’d been in the house, but we never went into the basement. Until Craig dared me. For the first time since we started exploring in that old home, I hesitated, feeling my skin gooseflesh. I said I didn’t want to, that it was probably cold and damp, but Craig and Bobby dared and teased until I did.
Unlike the rest of the house, my flashlight showed the basement was empty. Despite what have must have been years of rain, it was dry too. The only thing I saw was a wooden hatch in the middle of the floor. An old, black metal ring sat at one end of the hatch’s square, across from its hinges, like something you’d see on a pirate ship.
I couldn’t resist. I took the 17 steps forward and reached for the ring. When my fingers were inches from it, something bumped against the hatch so hard it rattled the metal like someone shaking chains.
That was the only time I ran from the house. I ran so fast and so far that Craig and Bobby followed me, right behind me, making me think I was being chased, which made me run faster, which made them run faster. We kept that up until we were exhausted and then collapsed in the grass lot behind my house. After we caught our breath, we laughed at each other, teasing each other to make ourselves feel better about being chicken.
I kept chuckling all the way home until I got inside and Mom asked me to go downstairs to get some canned peaches. I turned on the basement light so I could find the right tin, but I never got that far. In the middle of our basement floor was something that had never been there before. An old wooden hatch with a black metal ring for a handle, just begging for someone to open it.