Old Jensen Place

Old Jenson Place

Old Jenson Place - Written by Tarran Jones

This is one of my short stories that was shortlisted in the Aus Lit Review.

My bricks are tumbling down, while my mortar crumbles to dust. Red dirt fills my rooms while lush grasses carpet my floors. Animals make me their homes while the wind blows through my heart. Once, I was filled with lust, laughter, sadness and tears.Anger and love ran rampant through my halls while children played hide and seek within my grounds. People say these walls can talk and I know this to be true.

I have witnessed many things: floods, drought, love, arguments,bush fires, wars. Truly amazing things have happened here. I was there when the dream started. When loving hands gently caressed my stones and lovingly spread my mortar. Brick by brick the dream spread. Room by room I was created. My family started small: first only one, which turned into two, then into more.

Generations passed till hordes have passed through my rooms,which had slowly started decaying. My people soon forget the love that started me. They forget I was there for them from the beginning. More and more I fall apart. Harsh winds thunder against my walls, chipping at my bindings. Rains will torrent down on my roof, washing out my inner workings. Fire creeps closer to my heart as the brilliant heat of the sun dries out my lush grasses. Soon I start to crumble and my people, without a regretful glance, leave me to my fate.

The years pass slowly and I see what happens to the countryside while I lose a brick here and there, and other people come and take a piece of my heart for themselves. I survive while others don't, till I am a ruin of a home, nearly completely broken. Forgotten, my story is waiting in these walls.Waiting for a time when these walls will talk.

Amelia put her pen and notebook away and sighed. She drove past the weathered house every day as she traveled out of the township on her way to work. Every day she wondered what the story was with that house. Who lived there? What was its story? The poem she had just written in her notebook came to her while she sat and stared at the house.

'Toot, toot!' Amelia jumped, her heart in her mouth and cracked her knee against the steering wheel. Pain went through her body and Amelia felt her eyes start to water.

'Shite!' she hissed as a green car pulled up next to her. The other car's window rolled down and a blonde head popped out. 'Yo, Amelia.Are you staring at that house again? Come to the Feddy for a drink! It's Friday night and we're getting ready to party.'

Amelia shook her head, 'I can't tonight Lissa. I have to finish my assignment.I need to email it off tomorrow.'

Lissa scowled, her face scrunching up in displeasure. 'Come on, Meals. You never hang with us anymore. We're going to have something to eat at the Feddy and go to the water tower for a smoke afterward. Your assignment can wait.'

'No, it can't. If I want to get my vet qualifications and replace Peter the pet killer then I have to study. It's like an hour and a half drive to Lockston to visit another vet. We need one here. Only two days ago, over at the Tyler farm,they nearly lost a cow that had a difficult labour. As it was, they lost the calf.'

Lissa nodded. 'Fine. Be boring. You know where we will be if you want to join us later.' Lissa started her car and the back wheel spun for a few seconds,clouds of dust gathered and then she was gone. Amelia stared wistfully after the departing car, wishing she could go out. There wasn't that much to do in a small country town but she was serious about replacing Peter.It just wasn't safe to take your pets to him. One time a dog went in for shots and came home in an urn. She glanced back to the house for a moment and started for the second time in an hour. There was a girl in a cream frock standing in the doorway. Amelia's eyes were sore after staring at the old colonial house for an hour, so she thought she was imagining things. 'What the...' Amelia looked again and rubbed her eyes. The girl was gone. 'Well, that's my cue. Home it is.'