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Something Wicked ST

Something Wicked - Summertime Blues

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"Alright, fine then.   Let's head on home and get ready to go to the cabin.   I mean I admit I'm curious about this as anyone else, but here's a thought, maybe one of our parents might actually know something, before we go and get ourselves in trouble to start the summer.   Sure, it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission, but Is this really how we want to start summer vacation?"

He could hop the wall easy enough, but just the same he didn't care beyond curiosity.  He'd go over if they all did, he wasn't one to abandon his friends, but beyond that, he just didn't feel strongly enough about this to press the issue.

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The big and buff blonde snorted brashly as she rapped the gate with her knuckles. Maybe it was how Dex had dumped her that was putting Jordan in a contrary mood, maybe it was something else, but the more her friends suggested they leave, the more she wanted to go.

 

"More interestin' way to start summer than most," Jordan countered, then glanced over at her friend and sometime tutor, Hannah, as she nodded at the broken wall flanking the brand new gate. "And all the gate is sayin' is they don't like cars. 'Sides, the only bodies buried at Clairburn are the ones a murderer mighta' buried there decades ago. I'm goin' to say hi and whatnot. What's the worse that can happen?"

 

Boldly, Jordan skirted the gate and over the sliding scree of old and broken masonry as easily and smoothly as mountain lion and began striding up the drive, hard, heavy muscles rippling under the dappled sunlight filtering through the overhanging trees. She only taken several long strides when she noticed the heavy blue construction tarp covering something just off to the side of the driveway and swerved to take a look.

 

"Huh."

 

Flipping her braids over her shoulder, Jordan crouched down on her heels and peeled back the heavy canvas to see what was under it.

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Silas followed after Jordan, curiosity squashing any burble of caution. These were the Clairburns - his family had history here and now there was a mystery. It was irresitable to the young man but the moment he crossed he felt the heavy weight of eyes on him. He glanced at Jordan, but she didn't show any sign of the same creeping feeling and he didn't want to be labeled a wuss by the others for punking out after already having crossed the wall. He joined the muscle-bound girl next to the tarp and pulled up the blue plastic. 

"Just construction stuff. Someone must be moving in and fixing the place up." He pursed his lips, trying to square out a hearse and construction material together. "Think the Clairburns might have finally sold? Or maybe some relative remembered they had a house here?"

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Roach leaned against a tree, staring at her phone's browser as the 'connection' icon swirled endlessly. Forget 3G, this seemed like it was...1F, tops. She turned around to bonk the tree trunk's rough bark with her forehead...and in doing so noticed the unmistakably beefy body of Jordan going over the wall onto the Clairburn house property. Surprisingly, Silas followed.

 

Huh.

 

It was something to do while waiting for the TELEGRAPH MACHINES that were apparently used for cell routers out here to get the packets sent, at least. So she went over to the wall and pocketed her phone before climbing up onto the wall and then vaulting lightly over it.

 

The moment her feet touched the other side, Rochelle felt a very familiar unease. She looked around, especially down the long drive way toward the distant house which was just visible as a looming shape past the overhanging moss draped tree limbs, but didn't see anything immediately out of place. Even so she felt...observed. And, she realized, she wasn't the only one. Silas was glancing quickly around too, almost the same way she'd been a second ago. Huh, funny. Had he spent some time lifting stuff from stores too, or was he just a natural?

 

"The place isn't empty," she said, loud enough for Jordan and Silas to hear, but hopefully not enough to carry far. "You gonna go on up to the house or what?"

 

On sudden impulse she checked her phone to see if it was done loading yet.

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Roach was surprised the google page had finally loaded and to her further surprise there was a link to the local newspaper.

 

nganewsBanner.jpg.2a00e3b00e810ca45703de77f4e300c1.jpg

Clairburn House to be Renovated
The old Clairburn house located off of Gumlog Road is about to get a face lift. Recently Golden Rule Custom Jobs a renovation contractor out of Hiawassee, took the Contract to renovate and restore the hundred year plus historic home located north of Blairsville. Some work has already been done at the location with more to come.
When asked about the upcoming renovations Golden Rules spokesman, Jason Tabbard, was light on info. “We will be bringing the house up to code and restoring the grounds, the exterior, and the interior it to its original state. The owners want the house to be as close as possible to how it was back at the beginning of the last century.”
And who are these owners, we asked?
While Mr Tabbard cited privacy clauses, we here at your trustworthy paper did some investigating and found that the House and indeed all of the Clairburn Properties were still in the Name of the Clairburns and that all taxes had been paid through the current year. Furthermore, the Homes Utilities have been turned on and are registered to a W. Clairburn out of Winston-Salem, North Carolina. So far, our attempts to contact W. Clairburn have met with no success.
When asked how long it would take to finish the renovations Mr Tabbard said that they expected the job to last through the summer.
 

 

 

The article showed that it had just been published online within the last five minutes.

 

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Hank of course followed his friends, going over the wall with a shrug.   It was the same as it had been seemingly every other time he'd crossed the grounds, Though all the construction equipment and such was new.  "Looks like someone's doing renovations.   They're either gonna flip it, or move in.  I mean there's never been anyone here, so I bet they've got alot of work to do, either way."

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Quinn sighed as her friends set off down the road, toward the Clairburn House. She should go home and start on her chores so that she could be done and get to the cabin earlier. Doing that meant letting Silas go without her, and Quinn knew that he couldn’t take care of himself. He’d never proven it exactly, but he was a boy, and she knew that boys were generally dumb and unfocused. Silas was better than most, but Quinn needed to keep an eye on him.

 

Reluctantly, she followed along, sure this was going to bring her nothing but irritation. Had it been any group other than her friends, she would have already left, complete with flipping her hair over her shoulder as she went. She was relieved that the gates were shut, but that didn’t stop some of them.

 

“Jordan, Silas, stop that,” Quinn snapped. Her tone was designed to catch the attention of fractious yearlings and bring them to heel, and she fully expected it to work on her friends. “Clearly they don’t want people here, and trespassing is a fine way to welcome them to our neighborhood. Besides, Silas, your mom’s gonna beat you blue if you don’t hop right back over!”

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"Jesus, relax," chortled Roach as Quinn came over playing mom. "They're right, it's just contractors. Some operation called Golden Rule. They're fixing the place up for some relative who lives in North Carolina. Probably inherited the place or something."

 

She held a hand out, wiggling her outstretched pinky finger and affecting a terrible upper-class British accent.

 

"Dahling, lets go summer in the shit house this year. We just had it renovated. It's SMASHING."

 

Then, with a nod, Roach explained, "That's them. That's basically a tape recording of exactly them."

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“Yeah, and people who sound like that also have a thing about The Poors messing with their shit,” Quinn retorted, resisting the urge to smack down Rochelle’s hand. “They tend to throw money at lawyers.”

 

Seeing that Jordan and Silas weren’t relenting, she scowled and huffed, “Fine, if you want to walk around the back of the horse waving your arms, don’t expect me to accept your one call from Juvie Hall.”

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On 2/10/2020 at 2:39 PM, Silas Walsh said:

"Just construction stuff. Someone must be moving in and fixing the place up." He pursed his lips, trying to square out a hearse and construction material together. "Think the Clairburns might have finally sold? Or maybe some relative remembered they had a house here?"

 

Peeking under the tarp, it was just some shovels and picks, stones and bricks, and bags of cement or concrete or whatever they used to stick stonework together. Jordan replaced the tarp, tucking it neatly, then stood up and rolled her shoulders, giving Silas a small grin, then nodding at Roach and Hank. "Let's go find out."

 

Jordan's fair brows furrowed, Roach's explanation of who the people might be not making much sense to her. Why would folk from North Carolina sound all British and stuff? What was that show mom watched? Downtown Abbey? The oversized girl gave Quinn a somewhat dismissive shrug, thinking the horse girl was getting a little too worked up over nothing. And the more she was saying they shouldn't do it, the more Jordan wanted to. Fuck Dex.

 

"Ain't poor." Her family, the Walsh Road families weren't poor, they just didn't have as much as some others. "Ain't gonna mess with anything. Just gonna say hi, if they want us to leave, we'll leave. Ain't no big thing, then we can get ready to head to the cabin."

 

With that, Jordan began striding down the drive, not trying in the least to skulk or be circumspect.

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"It's so not contractors. I mean, there may have been some there, and might even be some there now, but what we saw wasn't contractors. Contractors don't drive vintage hearses to work at the job site." Hannah pointed out and let it sink in for a brief moment.

 

"And regardless, if the owners actually are there, and don't try to get us for trespassing, it's still gonna look really weird to them for a bunch of kids to drop by, on their own, to say high. Stopping, by, totally unannounced, and probably unwanted, to say hi to the new neighbors should be done by, or at least with, our parents, and with a plate of cookies or something." she explained, trying to make her friends see some realities of the situation they might be overlooking. 

 

"If we want to look around, then we look around, but all sneaky-like from the woods, and at a distance, ideally at dark even. But odds are that this is going to piss them off because, you know, the gate was closed and locked, signalling that they don't want visitors. So strange kids showing up, ignoring their privacy, and locked gate, and possibly even interrupting putting a loved one to rest, is not gonna be a good first impression." she added as she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder with a shrug and a tug.

 

"So why don't we go home, prepare for the sleepover at the cabin, and after s'mores or something, comeback tonight, but more clandestine." she suggested and, after catching the looked on Jordan's face, explained more simply for her friend, "Sneaky-like.", causing Jordan to at least nod in understanding, (and hopefully agreement).

 

Hannah almost couldn't believe she was suggesting what she was. It was one thing to sneak around on the Clairburn place when there was nobody there, but now things were a bit different with a possible resident and she did not want her or her friends to get in trouble. Jordan was being brash and not thinking (again) and most of the others were just caught up in it, with only Quinn really showing common sense.

 

Hannah turned to Quinn, looking to her friend.

 

"I can help you with your chores." she offered, trying to urge things along and away from the Clairburn House for the moment and hoping the others, especially Jordan, would also chip in to help since they knew doing chores around a stable was so not Hannah's forte.

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Jordan chewed on what Hannah said - the slight girl was smart, so Jordan tried to give her words extra consideration - then shook her head bullishly, her braids swinging. "Nah. Be worse, we get caught being all sneaky-like, I think. 'Sides, they ain't burying anybody." She jerked a thumb of the tarp covered pile of tools and landscaping supplies. "Didn't see anybody else and these are fancy folk, they ain't gonna be burying a body themselves."

 

The towering teen looked over at her gang of friends, getting annoyed at being balked, but figuring it wasn't to irritate her. She scrunched her nose at the idea of waiting for their parents just to say welcome. She was gonna be sixteen in two days, she didn't need her parents for everything. And this way, she'd find out if the new neighbours were worth they effort of cooking or baking anything to welcome them to the neighbourhood.

 

"Look, any y'all worried 'bout a spot of trouble, stay back th'other side the gate. I'll tell y'all what's up when I get back, and if any of y'all need a grunt to help with chores, I'll be a grunt. But. I'm. Going."

 

And with that, Jordan continued down the track, long legs moving in long strides, powering her away from any other objections.

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Hank and Silas exchanged glances then fell into step behind the blond bombshell as Jordan marched up the gravel drive. Neither said anything but both were thinking the same thing, Jordan obviously felt like she had to prove something after being dumped, and while the two boys didn't think she did, they weren't going to stop her but still friends were friends and you had to watch your friends back. That was what they were doing watching Jordan's back.

Hannah let out an exasperated sigh and looked at the other two girls, Roach grinned and shrugged and took off after Jordan and the boys jogging to catch up.

 

Jordan heard the boys behind her but didn't acknowledge them but that thye decided to come with her put a smile on her face. She quickly covered the rest of the distance up the drive to the house proper. The drive opened up into a wide circular area that was probably a gravel drive way back in the day but today it was all grass and weeds, that was rough but not that high it had been mowed probably within the last couple of weeks in the center of the yard/drive was a raised foundation which may have at one time had a fountain or something standing on it. Currently there were a couple of tarps covering more building material and tools. Off to the left of the drive where the ground gave way to the woods was a large truck with more material and a ladders and things.

 

Beyond the fountain foundation was the House itself, still looking in better condition than it should have given its age and that it had been empty for three quarters of a century. And parked directly in front of the two story veranda was the hearse, its back door where the coffins would be loaded into it was opened towards them where they couldn't see inside of it.

Jordan paused and looked around it was quiet. The teens that had followed her stopped behind her. The wind rustled in the trees and the shadows caused by the swaying leaves danced. Then with purpose Jordan cut straight across the raised foundation which had once been a fancy fountain and marched right up to the back of the hearse thoughts of vampires and other dead things running through her mind. As she came around the open rear end she stopped and her brow furrowed what she saw wasn't what she had expected. The back of the antique hearse was full of boxes, moving boxes to be precise. Most were closed and tapped up but Jordan could see that a couple were open and full of books. The other kids had joined her by this time.

 

Suddenly a deep gravely voice called from the veranda startling them.

“Not the welcoming committee I was expecting,” said the voice accompanied by the sound of the screen door swinging open. The man was tall and the voice matched his craggy looks, he was dressed in slacks and a dark blue turtlenecked sweater, his shoes were polished and had silver taps visible on the toe when he stepped down off the veranda. He stopped just as he stepped onto the ground “How can I help you kids?”

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Jordan whirled around in surprise and gave the man a sheepish, apologetic shrug of her shoulders. The guy didn't look like a vampire to her - a fresh, cleaned up zombie, maybe. Or one of those fancy college professors, if he had had one of those coats with the leather patches on the elbows. Not a hot one all the girls fell for, but an ancient one that was impossible to fire.

 

"Sorry, sir," Jordan replied with gruff politeness. "Didn't mean to trespass or nothing. Just, nobody's lived here none since our grandparents' time or before, and we were curious and all, 'bout who's moved in." The wind blew again, rustling the leaves and punctuating the silence as Jordan stopped talking. Jordan raised an arm, a bicep straining a sleeve near to bursting as she tugged at one of her braids and she glanced at opened rear of the hearse. "Umm,  I can help you move your boxes in to make up for botherin' you, sir, if you like. I'm Jordan, by the way."

 

She nodded over a broad shoulder at her friends. "Silas, Hank, Quinn, Hannah, and Roach - uh, Rochelle. We all live hereabout Walsh Road."

 

She'd been thinking about trying to get a job over summer. If the man was fixing up the place over summer, maybe she could get a job with the renovating company Roach had mentioned from the news article. She didn't know much about landscaping, but she was big and strong, more than most grown men even, and didn't mind doing the heavy lifting.

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The man smiled at Jordan and the rest of them, "I'm Warren Clairburn, and I never turn down an offer of help given freely." He walks up to Jordan and bends into the back of the Hearse selects a box then stops and looks back at Jordan and sets that one aside and grabs a much larger one, turns to her and holds it out for her, "You look like you can handle this," he says with a grin. Then looking past her at Silas and Hank, "Could one of you boys run up and open the screen use that doohickey to lock it open while I pass these out. Just set em in the foyer you'll see the others, we'll get this knocked out in no time," he says to Jordan.

 

 

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Roach clapped her hands and nodded. "Welp, as awesome as spending an hour or two carting books in boxes around for someone we just met sounds...Imma head out. I just wanted to see the car again."

 

She gave Warren a nod. "1959 Cadillac Miller-Meteor. It's in good shape, you must not drive it much."

 

"So. You drive a hearse around and like restoring old things. Vampire?"

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Clairburn stops moving for a second bent over into the rear of the hears, then turns around and straightens up looking right at Roach, his lips set in a tight grim line. "Vampires?" He glances from young face to young face, "Do you have problems with vampires here," he asks as he lowers his voice?

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One dark eyebrow shot up as Quinn stared at him. “Oh, sure,” she said with teenage sarcasm rolling through her voice. “Real big problems with them all the time. They scare our horses somethin’ fierce. Hear them screaming at night when the evil undead circle the barn.”

 

“Honestly, it’s a little weird when they show up at church,” Silas added with a smirk, even as he followed Warren’s instructions and headed for the door.

 

"Yeah," Hannah added quickly, "there was an... incident...  a few years back. Real messy."

 

Quinn stared at the boxes, then huffed a sigh and grabbed one. She didn’t look as obviously buff as Jordan, but she was pretty physical, too. “Let’s get this done, gotta get back and do the chores.”

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Warren couldn't hold the serious look past Hannah's messy quip, he laughed, a deep chuckle from way down deep and his face split with a toothy grin. "You kids are a hell of a lot better than  bunch of house wives bearing souffles." He  passed out boxes to any that offered and answered Roach, "It doesn't get driven much, it was my grandfathers and then my dads, been in storage since he passed in '05.  It would have cost me too much to have it hauled down here so I figured I'd put the old thing to use after all its got a lot of room for hau;ing...things." He grinned again as he held a box full of vinyl records out towards Roach. "Still heavy but more interesting than old books."

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1 hour ago, Something Wicked ST said:

Just set em in the foyer you'll see the others, we'll get this knocked out in no time," he says to Jordan.

 

"No problem, Mr. Clairburn," Jordan replied, hefting the larger box onto her shoulder without objection, then took a smaller one full of books, and tucked it under her other arm. It was heavy but manageable, the big girl shifting to settle the boxes and make sure she had a good grip on them. "Glad to help."

 

Jordan rolled her eyes in exasperation as her friends and Mr. Clairburn joked about vampires. She hadn't really ever been interested in that kind of stuff - Stakes to the heart to kill the undead dead. A wooden spike to the heart will kill someone living too. She let Silas get ahead of her, then followed him, taking the steps up the veranda two at a time.

 

She was just about to the door when she paused and looked around. This was as far as she'd even been before - she'd touch the handle to the main door two or three times, but that eerie feeling, the feeling that you were sure someone had died there was gone. There was a gentle breeze, and the veranda was warm, heated by the sun over the day. She twisted and ducked down slightly as she followed Silas through the door, then straightened up and looked around the once abandoned house with unabashed curiosity as she looked for where Mr. Clairburn had asked them to place the boxes.

 

No one had been inside the Clairburn place since before she and her friends were born, maybe even since before their parents were born, as far as Jordan knew. And finally, after clearing the stone fence and daring each other to the veranda and back, she was finally getting to see the inside. Vampires weren't really real, but still, Jordan was expecting to find something... something. Hannah would've had the right word for it.

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As Quinn walked toward the house, she scanned the area around the property. Slowly, a thoughtful look crossed her face, and Silas frowned. He knew that look well. “Don’t,” Silas muttered to Quinn as she passed him schlepping a loaded box in her arms, and his best friend gave him an arch look that meant she was going to do it anyway.


She set down her box and straightened with a snap of hair, a bright smile on her face. “Mr. Clairburn,” she said, her tone settling into business-professional, “my family owns the stables across the road, and we train and race endurance horses. Would you mind terribly if we rode across your property occasionally? It’d be great to have some new places to ride. You know, exposin’ the horses to new places helps them deal with whatever may come up on the trail.”
 

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Jordan looked around, the Foyer was big almost as big as their living and dining room back home. To Jordan's left was a set of double doors which were made of sturdy oak and closed to her right another set of doors just like those on the left except these were open revealing a large room empty except for a small stack of boxes visible in the center of the room. To the right of the open doors a flight of stairs led up to the second floor. Past the stairs at the rear of the foyer an open arch leading into another large room that was dark. Beside the arch a single door stood partial opened.

 

The air was clear as if it had been opened up to let the fresh air in although there had been no open windows visible from out front. It was also a lot cooler than it should have been and cleaner. Just looking around Jordan couldn't see any dust.

 

Outside Clairburn looked at Quinn then around at the surround trees. He nodded slowly, "the grounds havent been cared for in a long time it might not be safe, but if we can get some of the underbrush cleared out, i think we can do that put these old grounds to good use"

 

Jordan carried her boxes through the open doors on the left and saw that that room was huge with the rear comprising an open kitchen a large fireplace was built against the interior wall where the stairs were on the other side. Across from the fireplace was another set of door with curtained glass panes. Those doors were open and revealed a grand piano and several sitting chairs along the walls all antique. As she looked around the other kids made their way in with similar reactions to see the place inside as she had.

 

They deposited the boxes and made a one or two more trips then the hearse was empty and they were all gathered on the porch with Clairburn thanking them profusely for the help. “That would have taken me at least another hour or more I'm not as yong as I once was. Its a good sign that you kids around here are good and not self centere my...”

“I thought y'all might be thirsty after your hard work so I made some fresh lemonade.” A new voice startled them all as it cut off Clairburn's speech, standing in the oopen front door hold a silver tray with eight glasses of ice cold lemonade was a young man, none of them had ever seen before.

 

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Spoiler

The boy could be your age or older it's hard to tell. He is dressed in jeans, work shoes, and a button up denim shirt. While he gives everyone a look his eyes will linger on both Roach and Silas especially if you all go up to take glass of lemonade

 

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Silas politely took a drink - you didn't refuse a host's offer, not in Georgia - and pinked just slightly under the boy's scrutiny. "Thanks," he murmured with the shyness Quinn had noticed he'd seemed to have acquired like a bad cold over the past few weeks.

Glass in hand, he took a moment to peer curiously everywhere but at the unnamed teen. "I could help with a garden, if you want," he offered to Clairburn. "There's some fruit trees around, and berry bushes." He blushed deeper as he realized he'd just implied that he'd been trespassing on the grounds. He had - never close to the creepy house, but the outer edges of the property had been summer fair-game for an afternoon snack or good bait for the deercams out at the Cabin, but he probably shouldn't have just admitted that to the new resident and his. . .son? grandson? cute denim butler?

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Jordan was startled by the sudden appearance of this pretty boy, she hadn't seen anyone else when she entered the house nor had she heard anyone. Everyone was focused on the boy and the tray of glasses, she glanced at Mr. Clairburn and saw that his smile had gone tight lipped but as soon as she looked at him he noticed her and his smile came back but seemed a little forced.

"This is..Dylan..."

"Dylan Coventry," the boy interrupted Clairburn again, "I'm Mr. Clairburn's groundskeeper." he stopped in front of Clairburn who took a glass, then he took the last one and set the tray on the cap rail. This left him standing close to Roach, whom he studied unabashedly with a slight smile.

"Dylan's just gotten started working," Clairburn said gesturing at the recently cut grass, "he was out walking the back property, If I'd have known he was back I would have had him help with the unloading."

Dylan took his eyes off of Roach to look across the porch at Silas, "There is a wonderful patch out back that was once a garden, 'course its all overgrown and wild now but it could be a sweet garden again with the right touch." He takes a sip and looks at Clairburn but his eyes cut to Quinn, "The property extends back all the way to the creek, but you kids probably knew that, course its posted so maybe not," again his eyes cut across to Silas, " there's trails that could be good for riding once theys cleared. If that's what Mr Clairburn would like."

 

Clairburn smiles at the boy and the rest of the kids, "Yes its something to consider, but I have kept you all here far longer than I should have and if I recall some of you were talking about chores. I do very much appreciate the help and the greetings it's nice to have caring neighbors and do please come back and we'll talk some more about the garden and the horse trails."

With that while he doesn't physically start shooing you away. you all get the feeling its time to go and as you step off porch, Clairburn follows to lock up the car, Dylan stays on the porch. As you all say goodbye and start past the hearse Dylan calls out to Mr CLairburn, "Did you tell them about Miss Evelyn?"

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Roach, who'd finally, grudgingly, accepted the box of records and helped out a bit, glanced back at Dylan and Warren curiously.

 

Something about Dylan's eying her had shut the usually smartassed girl up. She wasn't used to being stared at.

 

"Miss Evelyn?" she asked with a chortle, her voice low enough that she intended it for just her friends around her. "What is this, a Southern plantation? Did we miss out on mint juleps? Lets demand mint juleps. Jordan, ask them for mint juleps. I'd have Quinn do it, but she'd ask for, like, oat juleps or something."

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