Crimson Irises

House Hunters

 For about a month, at least, we lived under a rock. We slept in our van right outside downtown and one of the few times we went into town was to get groceries. Sometimes we went out to dinner , but it still took a good amount of time to get there. Other times, we went shopping- clothes, mostly-and it still took a good amount of time to get there. Mostly, it depended slightly on which mall she wanted to go to.

How it seemed to work was that whoever wanted to go somewhere took the wheel, and if we ever bought something, it went in the back. We had an exception to the rules above: laundromats. For those, we had to agree when we went and where we went. We had a bit of a schedule too. Strung across the back of the van was somewhere around 18 shirts, pants, and socks total. It was a simple life.

As for getting caught by police, that is, we each costumed up and acted like hippies. For a while it actually worked.

Other times, officers threatened us. That's when we moved our car even farther from the center of town. It felt like that would be an endless cycle and we'd eventually be shoved back into Portland, I hypothesized.

That's exactly what I didn't want.

We needed to find a better place.

One day, I proposed the thought to my girlfriend. "We need to get a house or something. I've had enough of this." It was the middle of active, sunny April, and the van had almost been reduced to rubble. If we took it to the shop, we'd technically be homeless. "I can't be living like this until I'm old or determined enough to buy us a house."

She looked at me, a little puzzled. "But where would we go, exactly?"

I leaped into the driver's seat. "I've been coming up with a plan for a few weeks now. Don't worry, I'll tell you when we get there." I turned the key. The engine didn't turn on. "Ugh." I repeated the process. I needed something done, and this was a bad time for it to stall. Finally, the engine began to sputter after multiple minutes.

She slithered into the passenger seat and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll trust you. It's going to be a big step for our relationship if you do pull this off, well, if we pull this off. Together, right?"

My plan didn't involve her, but I needed to make her feel safe. "Together." I slammed down the pedal and the van jolted down the street. "We're going into town. Gear up."

"Ooh! You're going to get us something there? Well, I'm already geared up! You?"

"You know it."

As time sped by, we ended up at the prospective house without a hassle. After all, it was already noon, and the rest of the world was at work, school, or something of the like.

The house arched in front of me at the top of the hill, repelling any bystanders with its damaged window-eyes. Even the neighbors were frightened away, because there were no other houses within a fifty-yard radius. The gray paint was cracking like a million eggs all at once, and the roof sunk in. It was a weathered, delicate mansion. The front stone steps were cracked and moved underneath my girlfriend's feet as she slowly crept up the stairs. "Don't go in that way," I called.

"Why?"

"There's a back door to the basement. It's easier."

She pivoted on her heel. "It's much easier to go in this way. Why would we go in that way?"

I sighed. "It's an abandoned house. Don't go in the front door. Horror movie standard," I called up to her from the bottom of the hill, and after my comment, she slowly climbed down.

"There's no rental sign, then why are we h-"

"Just trust me. I know how to make a deal."

She laughed. "Since when?"