Marco's Story: The Colonel's Place
Note: this was written as part of the Penter Painter’s Holiday Haunts collaborative writing universe by
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“No, ma, I’m fine,” Marco said, voice laden in exasperation. Somehow word had gotten around that he’d been involved in the fire at the Arnold plant, and naturally his mother had called him and demanded he immediately come back home where it was safe instead of staying there in that awful town getting burned up or knocked over or whatever it was he did for a living. In the course of explaining that everything was all right, really, he’d accidentally let slip that he’d drawn one of the bad straws in the Dumont Drawing, and that had started everything all over again.
“No, ma, the boss said we’re not going back there again.”
“He promised, ma. Told old man Dumont and everything.”
“No, ma, the office party was yesterday. No, I don’t think the receptionist is sweet on me. Tell you the truth, ma, I think she’s got a thing for-”
Just then Chuck emerged out of the garage bay. “Oh, hey, gotta go ma, talk to you later, okay? Love you!” Marco quickly hung up and approached his boss. “Got another job today?”
“Just a small one,” Chuck said. “No need to send the whole crew. And anyway, David’s handling the Seville by the Sea job and the other David’s meeting with the lawyer about the thing with the hardware store, so it’s either you or Chris. You got first pick, seeing as you’re here and Chris is…where is he, anyway?”
Marco shrugged. “Beats me. What’s the job, anyway?”
“Colonel Putnam’s. Now, I know, he’s not technically a colonel anymore, and I know he likes to talk your ear off, but he doesn’t need much, just a bit of lighting help and a paint job. And hey, he’s good with the tips too. That work for you?”
“You say so,” Marco said, packing up his gear and heading out. He’d never worked the Colonel’s house before, but he’d heard stories. His buddy Lionel said the guy’s great great grandfather’s brother had fought for the British back during the Revolution, and Marco’s sister Jessica swore she’d seen some guys who looked like they were straight out of Hamilton hanging around the place only when she went back the next day they weren’t there and not even the Colonel knew what she was talking about so that meant they had to be ghosts from the 1770s or something right?
Marco didn’t know. He did wonder, though, as he pulled up to the old house with its one old chimney, out on the edge of town, facing the cold Atlantic. He didn’t see a car in the driveway, or any sign that anyone lived in the old house at all.
He approached the house cautiously, carrying a string of lights in one hand. “Mister Putnam? Sir? I’m here from Penter Painters and Holiday Decorating?”
No one answered. The wind blew low and sad around the house, echoed by the ocean waves booming in endless behind him. Marco hesitated, but finally knocked on the door. It looked sturdy enough, but he’d hardly gotten his first knock out when it swung open.
Gingerly he stepped inside. “Hello? Mister Putnam? I’m here about your decorating, sir?” His voice echoed slightly off the creaky wooden floors and dusty ceilings. Marco wondered if he’d got the address wrong. This place didn’t look like it’d been lived in since-
At that moment he heard a distant staccato-shrill beat, steady and whistling, that almost but just couldn’t be a fife and drum, and then he heard a sudden marching, the tramp tramp tramp of oncoming soldiers, but it wasn’t until a sharp crack of a long-silent musket that Marco fled in absolute terror, dropping the lights on his way out.
“Penter Painters and Holiday Decorating, this is Katie, can I help you?”
Yes, this is Colonel Putnam, late of His Majesty’s Army, I just wanted to telephone down there and express my profoundest gratitude for the work your chap Marco did at my residence this afternoon. Really wonderful job. Never had a better experience in all m’life. So to speak.
“Oh, well, thank you very much for calling, Colonel and, actually, I see that Marco’s just pulling in our garage now if you’d like to speak to him yourself-”
*click*
“Colonel?”
“Colonel?”
You work fast! Love the history you worked into this one! I’ll add it ASAP